Captive Rose (35 page)

"No! Let go! Let go!" she screamed, punching
her captor in the stomach with her balled fists. Her teeth fairly rattled in
her jaw as she was shaken roughly, her head jerking back. She found herself
staring into a pair of familiar blue eyes. Such relief swamped her that she
almost collapsed. Guy!

"Stand behind me. Now!" he commanded, shoving
her back several feet as five men-at-arms came tearing around the tent,
brandishing their swords.

Shaking her head in horror, Leila kept backing away
until she hit the taut wall of another tent and almost fell. She watched as Guy
drew his sword and faced his opponents, who had stopped short and were eyeing
him warily.

"Come on if you dare," he taunted harshly,
shifting his feet to better his stance. The gleaming blade whistled as he
sliced the air.

"We have no quarrel with you, de
Warenne
," spoke up one of the men. "We only want
the woman."

"And I say you shall not have her. Allow us to
retreat in peace or I shall strike down every last one of you."

The men-at-arms glanced at each other, clearly
uncertain. Matters were not improved when Maude limped around the corner on a
swollen ankle, her face twisted in anger as she shouted out shrill orders.

"Cut him down! He's only one to your five. What
are you? Cowards?"

Capitalizing on their indecision, Guy stepped backward,
keeping his eyes on the men-at-arms while he held out his free hand to Leila.

"Take my hand. Walk quickly and be ready to move
out of the way if I tell you to. Is that understood?"

"Y-yes."

"Good." He spoke again to the five men, who
were venturing a few hesitant steps closer. "Follow us and I swear you
will die."

The men-at-arms immediately froze,
then
began to retreat, sheathing their swords.

"What are you doing? They're getting away! Stop
them! Stop them!"

Maude's screams faded into the distance as Guy kept
Leila moving at a brisk pace away from the tents set up around
Tothill
Fields and toward the towering abbey.

"You were right there, beside my brother's tent.
How?" she finally asked breathlessly, hurrying beside him.

"I was worried about you and I couldn't stand
wondering about it any longer. I was coming to see how you were, no matter what
Roger might have to say about it." He threw her a half smile. "When I
saw you clambering beneath the tent, I knew you were feeling better. Much
better."

Leila felt a curious pleasure to learn that he had been
concerned for her, but she forgot it when another question pressed in upon her.
"Where are we going?"

"To the cathedral. To get married."

Looking up at him in disbelief, Leila tried to stop,
but he jerked her along, his large hand gripping hers tightly.

"I take it you have somehow discovered the truth
about your brother and his lovely wife. Is that not correct?"

"Yes, yes, it is, but that does not mean—"

Guy halted so abruptly that Leila's arm was wrenched in
its socket. His smile was gone, his expression dead serious.

"What does it mean, then, my lady? You had better
make up your mind very
quickly,
for I'm sure Maude is
on her way to find Roger at this moment. Either accept my offer of marriage, or
find yourself back in their custody and a victim to whatever they have planned
for you. If it was enough to drive you from their tent like a frightened
animal, it cannot be pleasant. Now choose. It's as simple as that."

Leila glanced fearfully toward Westminster Hall, then
back at Guy. "You are forcing me as much as they!"

"Perhaps. You're wasting precious time, Leila.
Choose."

"You know I hate you! I will always hate you for
what you've done to me. Always!"

"We shall see."

Her heart seemed to skip a beat at his words, but she
continued to glare at him, chewing her lower lip.

She could not go back to her brother. She would rather
die first. Marrying Guy de
Warenne
was her only way
out of this terrible predicament.

That doesn't mean I have given up on seeing my home
again, Leila assured herself. It only means I have bought myself more time.
Time to think. Time to plan.

"Very well, Lord de
Warenne
.
I shall marry you."

Joy lit his eyes, mixed with unmistakable relief, but
all he said was, "Practice those words for the priest, my love. We must
hurry."

"But won't I need Roger's consent as my guardian?"

"No, thank God. The Church deems such consent
unnecessary for anyone older than fifteen. Come."

The next thing Leila knew they were running beside the
cathedral's
massive buttressed walls and then up the marble
steps and into the cool, shadowed narthex.

"You there, stop!" Guy commanded a somberly
clad cleric who was preparing to exit from another door. "Me, my lord?"

"Yes." Still holding firmly to Leila's hand,
Guy rushed with her up to the startled priest. "Are there other clergy in
the cathedral, or has everyone gone to the feast?"

"There are a few others, my lord. You'll find them
praying near the altar."

"Excellent. I want you to take this" —he drew
the heavy gold medallion over his head and handed it to the man— "to King
Edward."

The priest's eyes grew wide. "The king?"

"Yes. Tell him Lord de
Warenne
and his new wife, Lady Leila, have sought refuge in the
abbey
and are waiting for him in the right transept behind the altar. Do you have
that?"

"Yes, yes. The right transept."

"Good. And tell him to please hurry, or blood is
sure to be spilled on his coronation day. He will understand." Guy took
the man none too gently by the arm and steered him to the open door. "Now
go. Run!"

The priest did just that, his brown
robes
billowing
behind him and his sandals clattering as he flew down the
steps.

"Come." Guy's strides were so long as he
hurried down the wide center aisle that Leila practically had to run to keep up
with him. Several priests kneeling at the altar turned their heads and peered
curiously over their shoulders as they approached.

"I need one of you to perform a wedding ceremony.
The rest of you must serve as our witnesses."

Panting for breath, Leila swallowed hard as the three
priests glanced at one another,
then
seemed to rise in
unison. It was clear they were taking the urgency in Guy's voice very
seriously. One of them, a tall, spare man, came forward and looked closely at
Guy with pale blue eyes.

"I know you, my lord. Lord de
Warenne
,
is it not?"

"Yes, and this is Lady Leila
Gervais
.
We have come to be married."

The priest studied Leila's flushed cheeks thoughtfully.
"Have you given your consent to this marriage, my lady?" he asked
pointedly, holding up his blue-veined hand as Guy almost answered for her.

Leila hesitated until she felt a very hard squeeze on
her fingers. She did her best not to wince. "Yes, Father. I have
consented."

"Then come forward, my children."

Guy sensed Leila's tension as he led her to the altar
where they knelt before the priest. Her small hand was shaking in his. As they
recited their vows, she refused to meet his eyes, but when he firmly intoned "I
will," after the priest, she glanced at him. Her gaze was stubbornly
defiant, but there was a curious softness to her expression that made his heart
thunder in his chest. How he loved this woman!

The momentary spell was broken when the priest bid them
to rise. Their union was scarcely blessed when Guy heard Roger's angry voice
carrying to them from the cathedral steps.

"Come with me, Leila. Quickly," Guy urged. To
the priest he said with quiet vehemence, "Hold them off for as long as you
can, Father. Our lives may depend upon it."

The astonished clergyman nodded, but before he could
ask any questions, Guy had swept Leila past the altar and into the right
transept. He did not stop until they reached the far, shadowed comer. Drawing
his sword, he pushed her behind him, blocking her with his body as the sounds
of tramping feet and chinking armor grew louder.

"Where are they?"

Roger's furious query echoed ominously from the lofty
arched ceiling, causing Guy to tense. He glanced over his shoulder at Leila,
huddled in the corner. Her amethyst eyes were wide and frightened; he had never
seen her look so vulnerable. His beautiful, proud, and reluctant bride was
trembling from head to toe.

Guy held his finger to his lips, commanding her silence
as Roger's voice rang out again.

"Speak up, man! Where are they? Believe
me,
I would not hesitate to use my sword on a priest if I
felt it necessary."

"And I, sir, demand that you and your men sheathe
your swords at once in God's house! You defile its sanctity with your armed
presence and vile threats—"

"Get out of my way!"

Guy
grimaced,
hoping the
pained cry he heard meant the priest had only been shoved to the floor and not
skewered.

"Search the entire building, even the catacombs.
Find them! I know they are here. My wife swore she saw them running toward the
abbey."

Guy spun, gesturing for Leila to duck behind the last
wooden pew. He crouched next to her, holding his sword at the ready, scarcely
breathing.

He knew it was only a matter of minutes before they
were found out. That fact wouldn't have seriously concerned him if he wasn't so
outnumbered. It sounded as if Roger had brought to the abbey all twenty knights
who had accompanied him to the coronation, as well as his men-at-arms. Fighting
all of them would be impossible, but he would at least try to hold them off
until Edward arrived to put an end to the carnage.

God's blood, what a way for them to spend their first
moments as man and wife! There hadn't even been time for a kiss or an embrace.

He sucked in his breath slowly and tightened his grip
on his sword as two pairs of footfalls drew closer, closer . . .

"My lord
Gervais
! They
are here—"

Guy jumped up from behind the pew and slashed at the
nearest knight who had sounded the alarm. The man went down, screaming in pain
as he held his bleeding arm, and the other knight soon followed, injured more
severely across the stomach.

"Stay where you are, Leila. Don't move!" Guy
shouted, stepping over the injured men as a dozen of
Gervais's
knights and men-at-arms all seemed to descend upon him at once. They halted in a
tight semicircle as Guy swung his sword viciously, holding them at bay.

"You're outnumbered, de
Warenne
.
Put down your sword,"
came
Roger's terse command
as his knights stepped back to allow him to pass. Then they closed ranks
against him, a jagged line of deadly weapons aimed directly at Guy's chest. "You'd
be a fool not to."

"You're the fool if you think I would ever lay
down my sword,
Gervais
, especially at your
suggestion."

Roger took a step forward, his mouth a sneer as his
cold blue eyes found Leila. "So, my sister. You were not unconscious after
all. I should have guessed you were accomplished enough at your healer's trade
to mimic a lengthy swoon. I suppose you heard everything—"

"You don't have to answer him, Leila," Guy
interrupted, stepping protectively backward. He hoped she would restrain her
sharp tongue, if only not to goad Roger's rage. He was gratified when she kept
silent; she was probably too frightened to speak.

"I take it we are too late to prevent a marriage."

"That you are, my lord," Guy stated
derisively. "Leila gave her consent, and she is now my wife."

"Is this true, dearest sister?"

"Yes," Leila answered in a small voice,
trembling as she had never done in her life. Roger was glaring at Guy with such
hatred, she seemed to be witnessing the incarnation of pure evil.

"How ill-advised. You two men, seize her!"

Leila screamed as two knights lunged at her at the same
moment that Roger's sword
came
singing through the
air, directly at Guy's throat. She saw him dodge just in time, but he fell to
his knees and gasped aloud in pain, and she knew with a horrible sinking
feeling that he had been struck. Then she saw no more as he was swiftly
encircled.

"No! Stop it! Please don't hurt him anymore!"
she shouted desperately, her anguished cries echoing through the transept.
Overcome by the horror of what was happening, she struggled like a captured
animal as Roger's men roughly pinioned her arms.

"Cease this madness! In the name of Edward the
king!"

Through dimmed eyes, Leila saw a sudden flurry of
activity as Roger and his men spun around to face two score of armed knights
led by Edward, who held a jeweled dress sword high above his head. Her two
captors suddenly released her and she sank to the cold floor, sobbing. She
could not have been more stunned when Guy broke through the ring of his
opponents and lifted her into his arms. He crushed her to him, soothing her
with whispered words.

"It is all right, my love. You are safe. We are
safe."

"But . . . but Roger struck you. I saw it."

"Only a slight flesh wound, Leila. Merely a
scratch. A small bandage and I will be as good as new."

Leila buried her face against his shoulder, overwhelmed
by incredible relief. She would never have anticipated the intensity of her
emotion, and she did not understand it in the least. It was hardly what she
should be feeling toward a man she had insisted she hated only a half hour
before.

"Lower your weapons, all of you!"
came
Edward's sharp command. He gestured for his own men to
surround the ashen-faced offenders, who quickly complied with the king's order.
Edward began to walk slowly toward Roger, his expression grave as he took in
the bloody scene before him. He stopped directly in front of him. "Explain
your actions, Lord
Gervais
."