Page 46 of Knight of Havoc
A heavy sigh escaped him. “I only wish to keep you safe… at Blackmore.”
“Blackmore is no safer than any other place in England whilst Stephen holds the throne. I wish I could obey your suggestion but as I just said… not without you,” Elysande replied, taking a seat by the hearth.
“You are a tenacious woman, Elysande Norwood,” he muttered, coming to kneel down before her.
“You knew that before we wed. You had your chance to escape, but you chose to persist, so you are now stuck with me,” she said and began to brush a lock of his dark brown hair back into place that had fallen over his forehead.
Reynard took her hand, pressing his lips to the inside of her wrist. His grey eyes met hers. “What am I to do with you?”
She gave him a smile that she hoped reached into his soul. “Why such a question is easy to answer, my love.”
He gave her a roguish smirk as if he could read her thoughts. “And what is your reply, lovely Elysande?”
She leaned forward to place her lips upon his and then gave him his answer. “Just love me…”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Reynard swung hisblade in a wide arc, but he failed to hit his target. He ducked, narrowly missing the sword aimed at his head. Uttering a curse, he pushed forward to slay the knight who had attempted to slice his head from his neck. The knight was briefly distracted, lowering his guard, and Reynard found his opportunity delivering the fatal blow. He witnessed the man’s eyes go wide in disbelief behind his iron helm before he fell backward. Placing his boot on the dead man’s chest, Reynard yanked hard to pull his sword free. He barely had time to wipe the steel on the tunic of his fallen enemy before another foe took his place.
There was always another adversary attempting to take the life of himself and those who fought for the empress, at least of late. Stephen had quickly recuperated from whatever ailment had overtaken him, and with his recovery he went on the attack. But he did not initially attack Oxford where he knew Empress Matilda was staying. Nay… instead he burned, looted, and overtook surrounding castles and land, cutting off any supplies or necessities that might have seen to the survival of those within the city of Oxford and its keep.
Based on the council Reynard had been privy to, the empress thought Oxford would remain a safe haven. After all, the city was surrounded by a deep river. But she was still outnumbered and without additional troops from her brother Robert, there werenot any to call upon for reinforcement. Not when every castle close to Oxford had also seen its fair share of war.
When word had reached them that Stephen’s troops were on the outskirts of the city, the empress went mad with rage. Calling up her men, she had them raise their swords outside the city gates, but by now Reynard could see that their forces were dwindling. They needed to retreat to the main gate of the keep before all was lost.
He swung his sword again in an automatic movement to stay alive. Oswin and Blake were nearby to his left, holding their own. Kingsley was to his right, and if he did not turn in time, he would find himself stabbed in the back.
“Goodee,” Reynard bellowed above the noise of the battle. “Behind you!”
Kingsley rapidly whirled around, raising his arm in time to block the blade aimed at his back. He began to fiercely hack away at his enemy until he was able to send his opponent stumbling over another dead body. As he staggered, Kingsley pushed his blade forward, ending the man’s life. When he did not immediately see another foe who would attempt to slay him, he searched the area and finally espied Reynard. Kingsley gave him a jaunty salute in thanks for Reynard’s warning before once again going on the attack.
That left the whereabouts of Richard unknown. Reynard had little time to randomly look around for the man, but Wymar would skewer Reynard alive if he allowed anything to happen to Richard if ’twas in Reynard’s power to prevent such an outcome. Family meant everything to the Norwood brothers, and Richard had long been considered a part of it. But war was a messy business, especially when there was barely had time to breathe whilst defeating one enemy after another.
He finally caught a glimpse of Grancourt who was battling against a knight much smaller than him. Why, the knight couldnot be much more than a lad who had just earned his spurs, based on his height. ’Twas almost unfair that Richard continued his assault on such a young knight but surprisingly, he held his own against the seasoned warrior.
Knowing there was not much time left for him and the others to reach the keep with Stephen’s army continuing to surge forward to seize the day, Reynard began hacking his way toward Richard to catch his attention.
“Richard!” Reynard bellowed over the noise of clashing swords. “We must flee to the keep.”
“Not without taking this one with us,” Richard yelled back over his shoulder.
“Leave him,” Reynard yelled before smashing his fist into the face of the knight before him.
“I cannot,” Richard exclaimed as he took on another knight who came to assist the younger one.
Reynard cursed, swinging his blade again to fell another enemy. “He may be small, but he shall survive the onslaught of this skirmish. Besides… he is a traitor by swearing his allegiance to the usurper.”
“You do not understand, Reynard,” Richard said as he took another life and turned his attention back to the young boy who now held his blade in front of him with both hands, his strength clearly waning.
“What is there to understand?”
Richard lowered his blade momentarily before he answered. The young knight took a swipe at Richard and missed whilst Richard leapt forward, capturing the boy around the waist. He brought the squirming lad up to his chest and yanked the helmet from his head.
“She’s a woman!” Richard finally answered when he revealed a long tawny colored braid that had been hiding beneath herchainmail. Green eyes flashed angrily at Reynard when he drew near.
“Bloody hell… another one,” Reynard cursed. “Why are these women always showing up on a battlefield where they do not belong?”
The woman continued to struggle against Richard’s grip on her. “Get your bloody hands of me,” she swore, stomping her boot on Richard’s foot.
