Fire Dance (47 page)

"Betrayed you? I always told you I would kill you."

"And you failed. Now it is time for my revenge. I shall kill this fat obscenity, and that coward of a husband who stands behind you. You will see then where you belong."

"You will not. For I have something you want more."

Fyren's mouth worked at one corner in an ugly sneer. "Have you, girl? I doubt that. You know naught more than I."

"But I do, Fyren. It is I who have translated the Greek manuscripts you so carelessly left in that little room. I know what you want. And I have it."

"What?"

"Greek Fire."

Fyren let back his head, and his laughter convulsed through him. "It is no secret."

"The real one is. You know it as well as I."

"And it is lost. You also know that."

"I have found it, encoded into the very passage that proclaims it lost forever. You may have it, Fyren, for a price."

"You lie."

Melisande smiled, a thin line as malevolent as Fyren's. "Do you want it? Or shall I keep it and use it against you? You are not so fond of fire, are you?"

"You lie, I say."

"Mayhap I shall show you. For a price."

"What do you want?"

"You know the price. Let him go, Fyren. You do not need him. With Greek Fire, you can take all England."

"If you thought so, you would not let me have it."

"Would I not? Mayhap you are right. I want only to see you dead. And I will. Mayhap I have something even better. But you will never know. You are too cowardly to risk it."

"Naught frightens me."

"Except fire. Aye, that is it. You want it, and fear it. Ah, it is too bad. You will never know."

"Do it, then."

"Here? Nay, in there. But let the king go. Over there, by my husband." She pointed to Alain.

"He stays."

"Then you learn naught."

"You will show me. You want him too badly."

"You want Greek Fire more. If I am wrong, I shall leave."

"Dougal! Seize her!"

Melisande fixed fierce eyes on Dougal. Her hand shot forth before the man, fingers spread wide. Dougal halted, mid-pace.

"Nay, Dougal. This fight is mine."

Dougal stepped back, sizing her up. For what seemed forever, their eyes locked in combat. Then with his own hands held out, he restrained his men. "Aye, lady. It is yours. He is worth naught if he cannot defeat a woman."

"Then, Fyren, choose."

Fyren's great blue eyes, fierce and malevolent, glared at Dougal, who did not flinch. He swept his gaze across the gathered knights. "Do it."

With a sideways shake of his head, Dougal signaled the knights to release Rufus.

Alain leaped forth and grabbed the king's arm to yank him from the fray, already knowing Rufus's intent. "Nay, Sire. Let her have it."

"Alain, you cannot let her!

"It is her fight, as she says. She knows what she does."

"Alain!"

Alain hissed at him, begging the king silently. Rufus's pale blue eyes filled with horror, but Alain would not release his grip.

"Block the stairs," said Fyren.

Melisande sneered at the feeble gesture as a knight sidled there. She looked about her with the regal carriage of a queen surveying her domain, and walked into the larger chamber beyond. Behind her followed Fyren, his eager greed only barely disguised.

"Alain, I beg you, you must not!"

"Aye. We go, too."

"He will kill her, Alain!"

"Believe in her, Sire."

No danger of his own could have ever brought Rufus to trembling. Few men understood that as well as Alain. But the king's hands trembled for the lady with butter-yellow hair who dueled with the magician. His large Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed repeatedly.

And none knew fear as Alain did at this moment. He too was desperate to save her. He was a knight, a warrior. It was for him to fight, to protect his lady, as he had intended earlier to do. But if he did, if he stepped in and slew Fyren, she would never be free. Fyren, and a lifetime of fear, would imprison her, even to her grave.

Nay, she was right. The fight must be hers.

And he was so terrified, tears formed in his eyes.

* * *

She turned her body and soul to stone. She would not show him fear. Never. Yet she could not see how she would turn this to their favor.

She must. God was on her side. And she would bluff them until the inspiration came. What else could she do?

Antithesis. What was it?

"I need yet one thing, Fyren, and I know you have it."

Melisande's eyes roamed over the large oak table that had been set back on its legs.

"What?"

"I shall not tell you. I have promised only to show it. You will not have the formula until the king is safely back in the hall."

"Get on with it, then."

Her eyes took on the lean look of a predator closing in. One eyebrow cocked itself high, assessing the adversary, then slid confidently back into place. Before her, she spilled the powdered contents of one jar onto the floor. Judging it adequate, she took the second jar and let loose a quick burst of liquid onto the powder. She stepped back.

Nothing happened.

Fyren laughed. "Is this what you call Greek Fire?"

The puddle whooshed to wild fire before them. Fyren leaped back with an involuntary yelp.

"Yes, fire, Fyren. That is what Greek Fire is about."

But as it had done before in the kitchen, the blaze quickly faded to little more than a flame in a brazier.

"And this you call Greek Fire, girl? Do not tell me it is unquenchable."

"Of course not, Fyren. It is but the beginning. As I have said, I need something more. I am sure it is here."

Melisande turned her back to the sorcerer to again scan across the remnants of the pots and jars on the table.

"Melisande, put this out!" shouted Fyren.

"Put it out? I have but now begun."

Again she turned away as if she had not noticed the way the flame slowly began to grow again.

"Melisande, it spreads! Put it out!"

"It is but a little fire, Fyren. Are you so afraid? Odd, don't you think, Dougal, for a man who will spend his eternity in Hell, to so fear a little blaze?" She assessed Dougal's confusion. "Ah, you did not know? Aye, there is much I think you do not know, Dougal, for you are a decent man. And you are new to this unholy alliance."

Melisande stepped casually to the opposite side of the fire, leaving Fyren alone to face the flames.

"He has told you only that he has the power to roll back the Norman wave into the sea, and make England Saxon again. But did you know, Dougal, that he used his daughter as a whore? That he stole young girls and murdered them, while raping them? He liked it that way, you see. If you take the time, you will find their bodies deep in the pits of this cavern. But do not believe his magic. Naught of it is any more than you see now, and I can show you how all of it is done."

Fyren's face became red with rage, then paled as panic again overtook him. "Melisande! Put out this fire! It is spreading! It will kill us all!"

"Put it out yourself, Fyren. But then, you will not, will you? You are too frightened."

Her eyes flicked quickly to the pail of water Fyren always kept in the corner to reassure himself.
Fire. Water. Antithesis
. Water! That was it!

But Fyren had seen her eyes, interpreted the sudden wild notion in his own way. He lunged for the bucket before she could reach it. "Now, I have you, girl. You thought you could get it before I did, didn't you?"

With a swoop, Fyren plunged the water over the growing fire. Before her horrified eyes, the flames leapt up with a roar, splashing onto Fyren's robes. Little globules of fire, no bigger than a thumb, suddenly burst into great tongues that clung and licked and danced, merged into a huge, screaming torch before her. She leapt back to save herself.

Beyond the storm of fire, Alain and Rufus screamed to her, desperate to break through the impenetrable wall of searing heat.

"Nay!" she screamed back. "Save the hall! The fire will carry upward!"

"I'll not leave you!" shouted Alain.

"Nor I!" screamed Rufus.

But they could not get past.

"Go! Trust me! I know a way out!"

"Alain, we cannot leave!"

Alain's fists became fiercely tight balls. "Lady!" he screamed.

"Trust me! Trust me, Alain! I can do it! Go!"

She begged God
. Please, just this once, let them give a woman their trust!

Only the outline of Alain's body was visible past the warping heat between them. He sped away, forcing the king ahead of him.

Thank you, God!

She turned slowly, took a long, slow breath. Her gaze swept over the knights that stood, frozen in their fear, then alit on Dougal. She sank a cold, pitiless stare on them.

"Now," she said. "Who wants to live?"

CHAPTER 25

Alain raced to the stone staircase, shoving Rufus ahead of him. "Go!"

"Alain, she'll die!" But Rufus kept running.

"Nay, she'll not. She knows the caverns. Go!" Alain crammed down the terror that rose like gorge. But he had to believe. He'd promised her.

Norman knights poured downward, no longer held off by the single Saxon knight they had knocked aside.

"Go back! All of you!" shouted Rufus. "Run for the hall! Get everyone out!"

Jammed into the narrow space, the knights turned around, but could not move. They passed the word upward until those at the top understood they must get out of the way. Rufus kept shouting, his booming voice carrying as it did on a battlefield, as the upward spiral of stairs cleared ahead of them. Then he began chanting his prayers, calling on Jesus, Mary, God, and all the saints he knew. "God protect her, Holy Mother, protect her."

"She carries God's blessing, Sire," Alain said, as much for his own reassurance as the king's.

"Aye, but it never hurts to ask again." Rufus pushed through the portal at the top, and climbed into the lord's chamber, with Alain shoved at the king's rear.

Once out, Rufus grabbed Alain's arm and yanked him through so quickly that Alain barely missed cracking his head on the stone above him. Saxon knights clambered through the hole behind him, willing to trade anything for the inferno below.