Declan wouldn’t, or couldn’t, be reasoned with. He’d spent his whole life bitter and resentful, so it was difficult to change that way of thinking.
“It’s a mercenary heart that is going tae get me what I want out of life,” he said. “Not all of us had fathers who insisted we train at the finest English homes or gifted us tae kings.”
Payne mulled that over, a sad expression on his face. “Is that it?” he said. “Ye envy what Da did for me?”
“He did everything for ye.”
“That wasna my fault, Declan,” Payne said. “I did as I was told, as ye did. And ye have had the privilege of serving with Maudie for the past ten years. I dinna. I wish I did.”
Declan faltered, but only slightly. “I’ve spent the past ten years being told what tae do by my mother,” he said. “Do ye know how humiliating that is?”
“She’s Bloody Maude, for Christ’s sake!”
“She’s a woman!” Declan shouted in return. “A woman, my mother, and I was forced tae serve her. A grown man and his mam!”
Payne could see that there were a few issues at play here. It was the most he’d ever gotten out of his brother about the man’s views. Although he’d known what they were, to hearDeclan voice them was a milestone. Declan would rather ignore things, or gossip, or cast dirty expressions rather than discuss his feelings.
“Again, nothing I had control over,” Payne said evenly. “Yer battle is with Maudie, not me. Or Da, but he’s not here. It’s not me ye’re angry with, but them.”
“It’sye,” Declan insisted. “I’ve been the middle brother for too long. When ye’re dead, I’m going tae take yer wife and sell her back tae the Portuguese. Or mayhap I’ll keep her on my ship tae please the men. I told ye once she was a royal whore. Someday, it’ll be the truth.”
“I’ll kill ye first.”
“Ye can try.”
Payne moved before Declan had a chance to prepare. One moment, they were standing several feet apart, but in the next, Payne was nearly on top of him. The violent storm that was The Tempest was in action as his sword moved in his brother’s direction, as fast as lightning. Declan managed to step back and lift his sword to defend himself, but not fast enough. Not high enough. Payne hit the sword and then he hit Declan.
After that, the fight was on.
For the most part, the battle at the Black Cock was over. There were dead and injured men on the ground, with colleagues trying to help them. The tavern was in complete disarray, with broken windows and tables and chairs, and somewhere in the back, Hobbes and Margit were trying to keep their servants calm.
But Payne couldn’t think about that. All he could think about was subduing his brother and throwing the man in the Blackchurch vault for eternity. He didn’t want to kill him. He just wanted him neutralized. When all was said and done, Declan was still his brother, no matter how much the man hated him, and truth be told, the fight between them greatly saddenedPayne. He’d never wanted to be at odds with his brother, but Declan had made any sort of pleasant relationship between them untenable.
And that was the saddest realization at all.
Declan wanted him dead.
But Payne wasn’t going to let that happen. He was better trained, better educated, stronger, and bigger than his brother. He had everything in his favor, including a blossoming love for the woman he’d married, a woman that Declan had threatened. Therefore, Payne was pursuing Declan all over the common room, trying to disable the man or, at the very least, subdue him.
But he wasn’t happy about it.
In his periphery, he could see Sinclair still standing on the edge of the room. Someone else was there, too, and it took him a moment to realize it was Amir. Both men were watching the fight, waiting to see if they were needed. In Sinclair’s case, it would be breaking a vow, but Amir had made no such vow. Sinclair had whispered the situation to him and Amir was prepared to step in if things got out of hand. But Payne was handling himself beautifully, using his skill and training and talent, and Declan was mostly running from him at that point.
Until the tides changed.
Declan disappeared into the alcove that the Blackchurch trainers usually inhabited on their jaunts to the Black Cock and Payne went in after him. No sooner had he entered the chamber, there was a loudthudand Payne suddenly hit the floor, blood pouring from his face. Those in the common room could see the man on the ground. A broken stool ended up on the floor next to him, clearly thrown by Declan after he broke it on his brother’s face. Realizing they were watching the moment when Declan would kill his brother, Sinclair and Amir rushed toward the alcove, hoping they would be in time. Right now, Payne’s life was measured in seconds.
And it took several to get across the common room floor.
But then a strange thing happened.
The small corridor that led to the livery yard was adjacent to the alcove, and before Sinclair and Amir could get across the destroyed common room, Maude appeared with Francis behind her. She was beaten and bloodied, but upright and heavily armed. The first thing she saw was Payne on the ground, with blood on his face, and she charged into the alcove with Francis on her heels.
Sinclair and Amir reached the chamber a second later only to see Maude charge Declan. Seeing his mother coming, Declan thrust his sword at her, the sword meant for Payne, and Maude ran straight into it. As they watched in horror, Maude impaled herself on the sword in her haste to get to her middle son, but the sword she was holding in her right hand plowed directly into Declan’s neck, pushed into him with such force that it nailed him to the wall behind him. As Declan breathed his last, impaled through the neck, Maude fell to the floor with a sword in her chest.
“My God,” Sinclair gasped, leaping over Payne to get to Maude. “Easy, lady. Be at ease. I have you.”
Francis, who had been trying to drag Payne away from the fighting, saw what happened to his mother and cried out in horror. He dropped Payne and rushed to Maude’s side, pulling her off the floor and holding her as Sinclair tried to assess the damage. Meanwhile, Payne started coming around as Amir pulled him into a sitting position.
