Unending Love (19 page)

Blood splattered as Maddoc’s enormous hands did
severe damage.  One man fell almost immediately while the other put up more of
a fight. Adalind watched with terror and fascination, picking herself up off
the ground, as Maddoc’s fury was unleashed.  It was truly a sight to behold.
She didn’t even notice that her mother and grandmother, plus a host of
Canterbury men, had carried David away.  The only thing she was aware of was
Maddoc and his unearthly strength and skill as he battered the second man to a
bloody pulp.  Even after the man finally went down, Maddoc gave him a swift
kick in the kidneys for good measure.  Then he turned to Adalind, somewhat out
of breath.  Beating arse the way he did was something of an exertion.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She nodded, her eyes wide with surprise and
perhaps some realization as to Maddoc’s true capabilities.

“I am well,” she assured him. “You did not hurt
me.”

Satisfied with her answer, he winked at her as
he turned back for the field, collecting his club, which had fallen to the
ground, as he went along.  As Adalind watched, he jumped back into the fray,
pounding man with either fists or club.  Blood spurted, men fell, and the crowd
went mad with approval.  It was a gory bit of fun.

The mêlée actually took a few hours.  It wasn’t
an easy game, nor was it quick.  It was quite brutal.  There was a good deal of
blood and broken bones, split scalps and the like.  Since David was out of
commission, Maddoc took charge and corralled the earl’s team into a circle, and
that circle was making its way slowly through the battle and destroying men as
they went. 

Every knight in Maddoc’s circle was back to back
with another knight so they covered each other from the rear and formed an
unbreakable bond.  It was classic warfare tactics, now employed to ensure
Canterbury’s team emerged the victor.  All went well until two hours into the
fight when a new and fresh knight was introduced.

That’s when things started to change.

Universal joy, universal sorrow, universal life.

CHAPTER
ELEVEN

The field marshals had allowed the new knight to
enter at Victoria’s insistence.  The man had arrived late to the festivities
and had very much wanted to compete in the battle. Usually, late entrants were
not allowed but Victoria begged enough so that her father forced the marshals
to make an exception. 

The fresh knight was dangerous against the weary
ones, and began destroying everything in his path.  The crowd, smelling blood,
got in behind the newest arrival with their cheering.  New life was breathed
into the waning event.

The first thing the knight did was go after Maddoc’s
circle.  Adalind and Willow, no longer jumping and screaming but standing
wearily on the sidelines, noticed the unfamiliar knight from the onset.  He was
very big, with expensive armor, and he went straight for Maddoc the moment he
entered the field.  Maddoc, having survived two hours of battle, was on the
defense as the knight swung the club at his head. 

It was a nasty fight from the inception and
Maddoc’s circle began to get pummeled from all sides by other combatants now
that Maddoc was distracted.  Maddoc’s reflexes were cat-like as he countered
the fresh knight’s attack and, soon enough, he began to retaliate.   As his
weary circle began to crumble, Maddoc broke ranks because he had no choice. 
The new knight was attacking him as if he had a personal vendetta against him,
so Maddoc’s tactics changed. To hell with the group; now he was out for himself.

Maddoc stamina was strong.  He went after the
knight with a vengeance, pummeling him so hard with his club that he eventually
knocked the knight’s weapon out of his grip.  As it clamored to the dirt, the
knight balled his fist and slugged Maddoc in the neck.  Maddoc staggered back
and inadvertently dropped his club.  The club had no sooner hit the ground when
Maddoc threw two punches at the knight, in rapid succession, and knocked the
man off balance so decidedly that he ended up on one knee.  Seeing his opponent
on the ground fed his frenzy and Maddoc pounced, grabbing the knight around the
neck and pummeling him with a deadly fist on the side of the head.

Somehow, the knight didn’t go down completely. 
He was big and strong, and managed to sweep Maddoc’s legs out from under him
before Maddoc could knock him unconscious.  Maddoc fell heavily on his left
side but rolled out of the way before the knight could leap on top of him.  Then
Maddoc rolled to his knees and grabbed the man around the neck again, shoving
him face-first into the once-green grass that had now become a mud pit. 

It was clear that Maddoc intended to hold the
man’s face in the mud until he passed out.   But the knight somehow managed to
dislodge Maddoc’s grip, bringing up and elbow and smashing Maddoc in the side
of the head.  Even though he had his helm on, the blow dazed him and Maddoc
fell onto his side, his ears ringing and stars before his eyes.  But he wasn’t
senseless and as the knight, who was now showing distinct signs of exhaustion,
moved to pounce once more, Maddoc brought up a massive foot and kicked the man
right in the groin. He fell like a stone.

It had been a particularly brutal and nasty
fight. Since Maddoc was on the ground he could not get up again per the rules
of the event, so he lay there as the last of the mêlée dwindled down around
him.  He watched Gerid take on two men who were determined to send him to the
dirt, but Gerid held fast.  He was strong and steady, and three hours after the
mêlée had started, Gerid finally emerged the winner. 

The moment his victory was announced and the
crowd cheered wildly, Adalind dashed onto the muddy, bloody field and ran
straight to Maddoc. “Maddoc!” she cried, skirts hiked up as she raced through
the muck. “
Maddoc!”

He heard her coming, sitting up as he wearily
pulled his helm off.   His ears were still ringing and his head was throbbing. 
He turned to Adalind just as she fell to her knees beside him.

“Are you all right?” she asked anxiously, her
hands on his shoulder, his arm. “Are you hurt?”

Maddoc shook his head.  “I am not injured,” he
replied.  Then he realized she was kneeling in the muddy mess and he labored to
his feet, pulling her up with him. “Get off the ground, sweetheart. You will soil
that beautiful garment.”

Adalind still wasn’t over the abject terror
she’d felt since the moment she saw Maddoc and the new knight in mortal combat.
 When they both fell to the ground, it was all she could do not to run out on
the field.  She was convinced Maddoc was badly injured, waiting anxiously until
the event was declared over so she could rush to his side.

“Are you sure you are well?” she pressed even as
he pulled her to her feet.  “You are not injured?”

He shook his head, his exhausted eyes glimmering
at her. “I am not injured,” he assured her. “You need not worry yourself so but
I am grateful for the concern.”

She frowned. “Of course I will worry,” she
snapped softly. “I saw you and that knight and… he hit you so hard.  It seemed
as if he was furious with you. Who
is
he?”

Maddoc turned in the direction of his worthy
opponent, who had struggled to his feet and was now exhaustedly unlatching his
muddy helm.  The blow to the groin had the man hunched over somewhat. Maddoc’s
eyes narrowed at him.

“I do not know,” he admitted. “But I intend to
find out.”

Both Maddoc and Adalind were looking at the knight
when the helm finally came off.  His blond hair was close cropped and as he
turned in their direction, they could see his square-jawed, rather handsome
appearance.  His blue eyed gaze lingered on Maddoc a moment, perhaps with some
interest as well as respect, before focusing on Adalind.

“Lady Adalind,” he greeted rather gallantly. “You
are looking as lovely as ever.”

Adalind’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped.  “
Brighton
?”
she ventured. “Brighton de Royans?”

Sir Brighton de Royans grinned, displaying
straight white teeth and big dimples in his cheeks.

“So you do remember me?” he said. “You had
better. My sister is your best friend and I will never forgive you if you do
not recollect me.”

Adalind was torn between shock, outrage, and
some pleasure at his appearance. “Of course I know you,” she said. “Where on
earth did you come from? Is Glennie with you?”

Brighton shook his head and took a few exhausted
steps in her direction. “Alas, no,” he replied. “My sister is at home and I
have come today because I was invited. Lady Victoria’s older brother is a
friend of mine.”

Adalind realized she was rather pleased to see
the man, although she was not pleased at what he had done to Maddoc.  In fact,
she remembered that she was still holding on to Maddoc with a death grip and
she turned to look at him as if to explain her familiarity with someone who had
tried to do him some damage.

“Sir Brighton is Glennie de Royan’s brother,”
she explained.  “She was my very best and only friend at Winchester.  He serves
Norfolk.”

Brighton heard her, nodding as she divulged the
information. “I am now a ranking knight in Norfolk’s army,” he said rather
proudly, his gaze moving to Maddoc as he rubbed his lower abdomen, “and you, my
lord, are a formidable foe.  I am somewhat regretting my attempt to defeat you.”

He had a rather friendly personality, his eyes
twinkling with the mirth of the situation.  Maddoc, however, wasn’t a
particularly outgoing or friendly individual so he responded somewhat formally.
  More than that, he didn’t like the way the man looked at Adalind.  Pure and
rank jealousy was beginning to rise in his chest.

“I thought perhaps I had unknowingly wronged you
and you were out for vengeance,” Maddoc said. “You are formidable as well.”

Brighton shook his head. “I do not know you, my
lord,” he replied. “I simply looked for the leader of the biggest group and
chose my target accordingly.  But that arrogance cost me.”

Adalind grinned because Brighton was
[J35]
 
truly comical the way he delivered the last
sentence. She could see that he was attempting to ease the situation.

“You could not know that Maddoc du Bois is the
one man in all of England that you cannot defeat,” she said, gazing up at
Maddoc fondly. “He is the greatest knight in the country.”

Maddoc, who had been staring at Brighton and
mentally sizing the man up, tore his gaze off of him to look at Adalind.  Her
expression softened his harsh stance.

“She speaks the truth,” he said, his lips
twitching with a smile. “She is as wise as she is beautiful.”

“I would agree,” Brighton said, aware of the
soft and loving expressions between Adalind and Maddoc.  “Since my sister and
Lady Adalind have fostered together, I have, in a sense, watched her grow up.  She
has always been one of the less flighty and silly females I have known.”

He was teasing her, winking at her with a grin,
and Adalind giggled. “Thank you for your kind words, Brighton. How you must
flatter the women with your smooth tongue.”

She was jesting with him in return but before
Brighton could reply, Maddoc interrupted. “I have known her since she was very
young,” he said, making sure that Brighton understood he had known her longer, and
better.  “She has always been an exceptional lady.”

Brighton could sense that Maddoc was not pleased
with his attempts to communicate with Adalind, perhaps sensing it as
competition or, worse, flirtation.  He had only just emerged from a battle with
the man and was in no condition to enter in to another.  As good a knight as he
was, he knew from recent experience that Maddoc was a daunting opponent. 
Wisely, he changed the subject.

“Of that I have no doubt,” he said, shifting
focus. “Sir Maddoc, whom do you serve?”

“I am Canterbury’s captain,” Maddoc replied, not
completely unaware that the man was trying to change the subject. “I have
served de Lohr my entire life, as did my father.”

Brighton nodded in understanding.  “He is
fortunate to have you, then,” he said, eyeing the man a moment before finally
extending his hand. He felt as if he had to. “I tried to best you today and was
turned away. No hard feelings?”

Maddoc hesitated before slowly claiming the
man’s hand and shaking it, once. “None,” he replied. “It made for an exciting
battle.”

“I nearly got my brains beat in.”

“Had I not been so weary, you most certainly would
have.”

Brighton grinned. “Perhaps you will allow me to
join your camp later for food and drink, Sir Maddoc. Perhaps you will allow me
to make amends for our rough introduction.”

“Did you come alone?” Adalind asked.

Brighton nodded as he looked at her. “I am
heading to Gloucester on business from Norfolk,” he said. “I knew that
Victoria’s celebration was happening this week so I took a detour to see her
brother and to wish her well.  Little did I know I would find you here.”

Adalind smiled. “I am eager to hear of Glennie,”
she said. “It has been two months since last I saw her.  The last we spoke, she
was heading home with the hope that her father may have arranged a betrothal
for her. Has this happened?”