Archangel (51 page)

Gart deftly caught the axe, planted his feet, and swung the pike-end of it at the door. Pieces of wood flew off but it was going to take time.  Gart began swinging with all his might.

“I have more men coming,” David told them, breathing heavily from having run to the yard and then to the armory.  “They are bringing axes and weapons.”

“She will be dead before they get here,” Gart grunted, hacking away at the junction just above the bolt. “If I can just make a hole in the door, I can get my arm in and unlock it.”

Above their heads on the staircase landing, they heard weeping.  Gart didn’t bother to look up, but David and Christopher did. Emilie was standing there, sobbing with fear.

“What has happened?” she wept. “Where is Emberley?”

David raced up the stairs to his wife, taking her in his arms. He didn’t quite know how to explain that they had been duped by a madman, feeling sick and ashamed.

“It is all right, sweetling,” he held her close. “We will get to her.”

“But… she is screaming!” Emilie wept. “He is killing her! Oh, please, hurry!”

“Gart is moving as fast as he can,” David was wrought with terror, too. He knew they were all listening to a murder taking place. “He will save her.”

Even as he spoke the words, a great screaming arose from the room. Not only could they hear Emberley screams but Romney’s cries as well, his high-pitched howls joining his mothers. It was a harrowing sound, pitiful and panicked. They were speaking as they were screaming, shrieking words that no one could understand. 

Everyone in the entry hall was filled with anguish at the sounds, but no one more than Gart. He continued to swing away at the door, tears streaming down his face.  He swung so hard that his arms nearly fell off but nothing was going to prevent him from getting through that door to Emberley and Romney. He could hear their combined screaming, the sounds filled with terror.  It was destroying him.

And then… silence.

***

Emberley had been moving to one of the chairs with Romney while Julian meandered over near the hearth.  As she sat in the chair, she looked up in time to see Julian throw the bolt on the reception room door.  Before she could react, Julian suddenly brought up the fire poker he had picked up from his inspection of the hearth and brought it down on Father Jonas’ skull.

The priest never had a chance. He had been facing Emberley and Romney and never saw it coming. He fell to the floor, his skull split, and Emberley screamed with terror. Julian was suddenly running at her with the poker and she bolted up from the chair, running for her life.

“Gart!” she screamed.

Julian swung the poker at her, missing her by a wide margin and slamming it in to a chair.

“He cannot help you,” he snarled. “You foolish bitch – did you truly think I would grant you a divorce? Did you truly believe I would reward you for shaming and disobeying me?”

Emberley was in a panic, struggling to keep her wits about her as Julian chased her around the room, swinging the poker and smashing valuable and expensive pieces as he went. They could hear banging on the door and men shouting, trying to break in, but the old oak door, built to withstand a siege should the enemy break into the house, held fast.

“Julian, stop!” she begged. “Please stop!”

He wasn’t listening to her. He was fully committed to smashing her skull with the poker just as he had smashed the priest’s and the more he chased her, the more excited he became.

“You have always been disobedient and insolent,” he seethed, swinging at her again as she neared one of the lancet windows and getting the poker tangled up in a tapestry that hung there.  “I should have killed you long ago but you were beautiful and gave me three strong sons, so I allowed you to live. Now I hear that you are pregnant with Forbes’ child? I shall kill you for it!”

Emberley screamed as he came close and narrowly missed clipping her in the back.  She raced across the room, dodging fallen chairs and the broken table that Julian had so willfully smashed.  More banging filled the room as shouts and threats emitted from the other side of the locked door but still, the sturdy oak and iron held fast.  No one could budge it.

“Gart!” she screamed again. “Help!”

Julian crowed with laughter as he cornered her by the edge of the room and a table.  Emberley tried to dodge the flying poker but this time, it caught her in the arm.  She shrieked with pain, grabbing hold of the gash he had inflicted.

“Forbes cannot help you,” Julian was fed by the bloodlust, an almost spiritual experience for him. “Come now, wife. Do not make me chase you any longer. Come to me like a good girl and face your punishment.”

Emberley was racing all around the room, trying to avoid Julian and his swinging poker.  She could see Romney in the corner of the chamber, absolutely terrified as his mother fought for her life. But she couldn’t focus on the boy too long, afraid that Julian would catch up to her if she did. She had to stay alive.

Julian was growing weary of swinging. He tried to leap over a chair to get to Emberley but she dodged him and he ended up falling, twisting his wrist. Furious, he fell back, holding his wrist, suddenly noticing Romney cowering against the wall. He reached out and grabbed the boy by the hair.  Romney screamed and swung his fists.

“Nay!” Emberley cried. “Leave him alone!”

Julian cocked a confident eyebrow. “Come here and I shall.”

Emberley was cringing on the other side of the room, tears on her face as she watched Julian hurt Romney.  She knew she could not allow the man to harm her child no matter what the consequences. She thought of Gart, of Orin and Brendt and Lacy, and of the child she carried in her belly.  So many people depended on her, people she loved with all her heart and soul.  She had so much to live for.  But none of that mattered if she let just one of those precious souls sacrifice themselves when she could prevent it.

“I will,” she swallowed her tears, pushing down the terror for Romney’s sake. “Let him go and I will come to you.”

Julian yanked the boy by the hair again. “Come to me now or I will not let him go.”

Emberley didn’t hesitate.  She went to Julian and he lashed out a fist, catching her in the jaw and sending her to the ground. 

As Emberley fell, Romney yanked himself from his father’s grasp and ran away, all the way to the other end of the room.  He wanted to run further but he couldn’t. He knew what was going to happen and he knew he had to stop it. He had to protect his mother. 

Fumbling around in his tunic, he pulled out Gart’s dagger that he had stolen from the table in his mother’s bed chamber.  The moment he had feared had finally come and he wondered if he was brave enough to do as he must. For his mother’s sake, he had to. He began to move towards his father.

Julian had his back to Romney as he stalked Emberley, now struggling to pick herself off the floor.  He lifted the poker over his head, getting a good grip on the iron pole as he prepared to do his worst.

“I should have done away with you years ago,” Julian hissed. “Now you shall know what it means to be punished. You are a foolish, wicked woman, Emberley.  For the humiliation you have caused me, you shall feel my wrath.”

Emberley was only half-conscious, hearing his words but having no idea where he was. She could hardly see for the spinning room and she struggled to move away, in any direction, hoping that it would be away from Julian and his madness. She knew he meant to kill her and she labored to collect her wits enough to run again, but she couldn’t seem to manage it. The blow to the head had her reeling and she was fumbling in the dark.

She couldn’t even manage to be terrified at the moment. All she could feel was desperation to get away, to survive, to continue to fight. Rolling on to her back, she saw that Julian was right on top of her, the poker held high. She lifted her left arm to block the blow, hoping it would be enough. As Julian drew the poker back with the intention of smashing it downward into her head, the man suddenly howled with pain and the poker fell to the floor.

Julian grabbed his back and spasmed, falling to the floor in fits.  Emberley screamed as the man came down on top of her legs, blood gushing from a dagger rammed into the small of his back.  Looking up, she saw Romney standing behind his father, a look of shock and terror across his young face. There was blood on his hands.

Romney’s eyes met with his mother’s and the boy suddenly burst into loud, terrified sobs.  Panicked, he reached down and picked up the fallen poker, slamming it into Julian’s back and legs again and again. 

He was screaming louder and louder as he continued to beat his father, hearing his mother scream his name but not acknowledging her. Romney was in a world of such terror that he had to kill the source of it, the only thing he knew to do, stamping out the source of his fear.  He had to beat it until it was dead.

Sobbing heavily, he struck Julian one more time, weakly, before dropping the poker to the floor. Emberley was shrieking with fright, with horror, and Romney was sobbing as if his heart was breaking. He could hear men yelling from the opposite side of the closed reception room door, and someone was ramming in to it heavily, attempting to dislodge the lock. 

With bloody hands, wiping at his tear-stained face, Romney went to open the door.

Chapter Twenty Nine

Gart couldn’t think about the silence beyond the door.  He couldn’t let the deafening roar of nothingness fill his brain because it would shatter him. He blocked it out and kept swinging. He had to get to Emberley. It was the only thought that kept him going.

He was about to bring the axe down again, widening a small hole he had made, when the bolt suddenly twitched.  He came to a grinding halt, panting with exertion, holding the axe aloft because he was sure Julian was about to step through the door and he was going to cave the man’s skull in.  He wait, coiled, as the bolt was removed.

Christopher had retrieved his broadsword and stood next to Gart. Once the axe came down on Julian’s skull, Christopher intended to gut the man. They were all feeling furious and full of sorrow.

Christopher glanced at Gart as the iron bolt rattled, seeing tears streaming down the man’s face and feeling an enormous sense of anguish. It was sorrowful, the results of this day, and he deeply pitied Gart.  He didn’t even know what to say to the man. He did the only thing he could - he stood there with his sword at the ready, preparing to help.

The door shifted, rattled again, as someone tried to open it.  With the bolt thrown, the panel was unlocked and Gart kicked out a massive boot to shove the door open wide. With the axe raised, he saw movement in the doorway and blindly moved to bring the axe down.  He was startled when Christopher threw up his broadsword and blocked him.

“Nay!” Christopher snapped. “Look!”

Gart did.  Romney stood in the doorway, rubbing his eyes with bloodied hands. Gart stared at the boy and, with a cry of anguish, dropped the axe. He reached out and grabbed the child.

“Rom?” his voice cracked. “What happened? Are you injured?”

Romney shook his head. “Nay,” he wept.  “But… my mother….”