Siege Of the Heart (39 page)

Alric must have seen something in her expression or spied the tremors flaring through her. He tightened his grip, biting into her skin with his fingers, as he spun her around to face him.

“You recognize them.” Fury mottled his face.

Isabel shook her head, too dazed to utter a denial.

With a growl, Alric snapped his hand around her neck, held her still and began to squeeze. “Whore, tell me. Are they your Normans?”

Isabel’s pulse hammered against his thick fingers. The pressure of each breath sputtered through her trachea. “Yes,” she managed to say. “You should run like the coward you are,” she said more strongly. She was feeling lightheaded, but instead of worrying, felt an overwhelming urge to laugh. Absurdity bubbled up her throat as black spots appeared in her vision.

His fist connected with her cheek, and she was suddenly floating, and then rapidly falling, to the forest floor. She could no longer make out Julien’s curses as her eyes drifted shut.

* * * *

Alex’s sword sliced through another Englishman’s tunic. Blood streamed through the tear in the worn woolen fabric. With a brutal kick, Alex pushed the man away from him and his horse as the Normans forced their way deeper into the rebel camp.

When they came crashing out of the trees, he spied Isabel almost immediately. Exhaustion marred her profile, and he could make out dark smudges on her face. Were they bruises or merely dirt? She had stationed herself protectively over a man with the same chestnut hair. His eyes narrowed as he examined the man who must be her brother, the reason his wife had been taken from him in the first place.

Alex’s attention was divided as he dodged and ducked blows, guiding his steed between the fighting men. The next time he was able to safely look back to where he first sighted Isabel, she was gone. For one cruel moment, he thought he had imagined her presence. He had been so heart-sore and desperate to see her, perhaps his eyes had tricked him. Frantically, he scanned the area. He found her, just before she, her brother and another man disappeared in the far trees.

Isabel’s comrade fought nearby. “Kendrick!” he cried out. He hoped the younger man could hear him over the din of clashing swords and axes, iron striking iron. Kendrick looked up the second time Alex called out and made his way over to where he was holding his ground.

“Isabel and her brother have been taken into the woods,” Alex shouted just before he blocked an axe blow with his shield. He grimaced as the force of the impact jolted into his shoulder.

Kendrick had just pushed back another opponent before he turned to Alex again. “I’ll go after them.” He started to extricate himself from the fiercest part of the battlefield.

“No, wait!” It was too late. Alex wanted to be the one to see to Isabel’s safety, but he knew the other man had the better chance to reach her. Alex was still mounted on his horse and in a much stronger position to hold his own against the rebels.

He briefly surveyed the field. Captain Thomas, Hugh and the rest of his men were scattered but effectively managing the rebels’ attacks. For the most part, Radolf and his men were on foot and working together to corral a handful of rebels, backing them up against a pair of wagons.

One of the rebels snuck alongside his horse. Alex barely caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, just as the man sliced through the straps of his saddle.

Gripping his sword, Alex braced himself for impact with the ground.

* * * *

Isabel struggled to consciousness. She had forgotten something important, but her eyes would not obey her commands to open. She lay there in a stupor as someone stroked her hair. Her brother. Alric, Alex, the rebel camp… It came back in a flurry of images.

Julien’s face was impossibly close as she came to. “Easy now.” He helped her sit up.

Kendrick appeared over her brother’s shoulder. Isabel flinched in surprise at his sudden appearance. “She seems well enough,” he said.

“Alric?” she asked, still getting her bearings.

“He left a few minutes ago to join the fighting,” Julien told her.

“Where?” Isabel followed their gazes to the clearing where the Normans battled with the few remaining Englishmen. Some had fallen, and Isabel suspected many of them had fled into the safety of the woods.

Two men ganged up against Captain Thomas, who was a good distance from the other Norman soldiers. Kendrick, too, must have realized the Dumont captain was in trouble. A silent looked passed between him and Julien, and then Kendrick sprinted to Captain Thomas’s aid.

Isabel sought out Alric. Her breath caught when she saw his opponent. Alex.

“That’s him, is it not?” her brother asked before descending into a coughing fit.

Isabel nodded. “Help me to my feet.” She was still weak and rattled from Alric’s rough treatment.

Gingerly, her brother helped her stand. He winced at the effort, and Isabel felt guilty for causing him more pain. She gripped his arm and swayed against him as she waited for her head to clear. “I am ready.”

They trudged closer to where Alex and Alric stood squaring off against one another. Blood of previous combatants spattered Alex’s hauberk, worn over his coat of mail, but Alric was relatively fresh, having avoided the bulk of the fighting, even though it appeared he had lost his axe at some point. Her father’s blade caught the sun as the rebel slashed at Alex.

Isabel stumbled as her brother steered her around a fallen soldier. Julien swore to himself, and Isabel snapped her head up. Alric’s sword caught Alex’s arm before he could pull away and avoid the brunt of the attack.

Isabel quickened her steps, Julien laboring beside her.

By now, most of the English lay injured or had disappeared into the woods, and only Alex and the rebel leader were still engaged in combat. At the other side of the field Thomas’s aggressors had been chased away. Kendrick helped Captain Thomas to his feet.
 

“You fiend!” Alex cried as Alric nearly clipped his shoulder with his sword.

Her gaze returned to Alex. After a few more blocks with his increasingly scarred shield, Alex became more aggressive, backing Alric up with each thrust of his sword. Isabel was unable to look away, convinced Alric was tiring as he evaded Alex’s attacks with less dexterity than before.

Julien pressed her hand and pulled her thoughts away from the fight. “Isabel, forgive me.”

She turned to him. What was left to forgive? “Julien?”

He took a deep breath and lurched over to where Alex and Alric remained in heated combat. Without her brother’s support, Isabel tumbled to the ground, surprised by Julien’s behavior. Frantically, she pulled herself into a crouching position, frustrated her body was so unwieldy and weak.

Julien staggered toward the combatants, approaching Alex from behind.
 

A savage grin stretched across the rebel leader’s face. Alex blocked the man’s next sword thrust and pushed him back a pace, giving himself the chance to take a stab at his upper thigh. Alric jumped back, barely escaping the tip of Alex’s sword as he advanced. His next swipe knocked the other man’s sword to the ground.

Alex took another step toward his English assailant. Instead of hanging his head in defeat, Alric just smirked.

Julien quickened his pace, and his cryptic words came back to her. She stiffened at the thought that he would go to such extremes. That he would attack a man from behind—risk his life—simply because Alex was a Norman, because Julien could not bear the thought of his sister married to a brutal conqueror. It mattered not that by now Alex had forced Alric’s sword away and was the victor in their fight.

Time slowed down as Isabel stared forward, tears slipping past her cheeks. She thought she had gotten through to him. She thought Julien understood her position and the depth of her feelings for Alex. However, she could not ignore the despair that filled her or the alarmed faces of the onlookers as they watched Julien explode upon the two men.

English, Norman...the designations mattered not as the three men converged upon one another. All she could do was scream.

25

“No!”

Isabel’s sharp cry drove away all thought. Alex took his eyes off the rebel and twisted his body to locate her.
 

He was suddenly thrown forward. The rebel he had been fighting produced a small knife in all the commotion. Alex toppled to the ground, and he could feel a slight whiff of air against his skin as the blade sliced past him. The man who had shoved him did not fare so well. Alex looked up to see the knife lodged in the breast of Isabel’s brother.

Taking advantage of the confusion, Alex scrambled to his feet and knocked his attacker unconscious with the hilt of his sword, before moving to Julien’s aid. Isabel’s brother must have realized the rebel would have stabbed Alex if he had not intervened.

He laid the man down after removing the blade. Julien gripped the front of his hauberk and pulled Alex close with surprising strength. “Take care of her,” he whispered roughly before collapsing.

Shaken, Alex waved his men forward to tend to him. Isabel had not moved from her spot on the ground a few yards away and looked stricken. He fell to his knees before her and rested his hands on her shoulders. Though she seemed not to see him, she was here, within his grasp. At last. Struggling to find something to say, he drank in her presence.

She blinked, her gaze slow to find him. A sob worked in her throat. “I did not leave you.”

He had to strain to hear her voice. “I know.” He cupped her cheek and ran his fingers along the cuts lining the side of her face. He wanted to tell her how much he had missed her, how much he wanted to hold her and touch her, but her brother’s condition was more pressing.

“Come, see to your brother,” he said with no small amount of reluctance. She looked up at him in surprise but complied as he helped her to her feet and led her to Julien.

As she knelt over her brother’s body, Alex caught Hugh’s grim look. Alex had no idea what Isabel’s reaction would be to her brother’s death. He watched as they spoke softly in English, clinging to one another. Captain Thomas and Kendrick stood by, offering silent support.

When Julien’s words slowed and his hands slid from hers, Isabel placed one last kiss to his forehead, and then straightened. With dry eyes, she marched over to the man Alex had been fighting with. She yanked the sword belt off him and collected the blade Alex had knocked free during their fight. She wiped the sword off in the grass before she strapped it around her waist.

“My brother’s sword, my father’s before his,” she explained softly. “Kill him,” she said to Kendrick, nodding toward the unconscious rebel. The Englishman stepped forward without hesitation, and Alex realized his last combatant must have been the heinous rebel leader who had threatened Isabel. She turned away as Kendrick slit his throat.

The day blurred past. Men were buried, others needed bandaging. Isabel was tireless, checking the injuries of each man. Captain Thomas had suffered a large cut along his side, but he was in more pain than danger. The rebels had knocked Hugh around during the battle as well. An axe blade had nicked his upper arm and a blow to his temple still bled freely. Under Alex’s watchful eye, Isabel knelt before him and saw to his injuries as she had done for everyone else.

Alex only succeeded in getting Isabel to rest once. He cursed her stubbornness, when it was so clear she was exhausted. Unable to watch her push herself any longer, he grabbed her elbow and directed her away from the others so they could have some privacy. While he shared some bread with her, he inspected the cuts on her wrists and face. He was unhappy with the way she rushed the food down and the weight she had lost since her abduction.

She gently pushed him away when she had finished. She had not spoken to him since they had buried Julien, and he had not pressed her. They were together, and it would have to be enough until they had time for themselves.

Alex and his men helped Captain Radolf in assessing the stores and supplies the rebels left behind. Radolf’s men would take the bulk of the foodstuffs and weapons, but little else was of use to them. They burned what remained in case some of the Englishmen returned.

“That is the rest of it,” Radolf said. “When I make my report to William, I will be sure to tell him of your contribution. We would not have been able to take them on without your help.”

Alex nodded in thanks. “I am glad we could be of service.”

“Well, you found what was lost,” he said, indicating Isabel, who talked with Kendrick while they watched the flames of the bonfire. “I had my doubts she would turn up.”