Then she saw him, faded and gray, slinking along the wall behind Armand. He had given up on the torch and was resorting to throwing small pebbles and bits of crumbling wood at Eldon, who had bound Nick’s hands behind his back and now slipped a crude noose over Nick’s head.
“Armand!” Simone shouted. “You have what you want! I beseech you, spill no more blood in the name of your madness!”
Nick’s head came up at the sound of Simone’s voice, and he looked around the hall blearily, as if searching for her.
“Madness?” Armand spun on Simone and in three great, dragging strides was upon her, lifting her with one hand beneath her chin. Genevieve skittered away. “You speak to me of madness? Am I mad, Simone?” He shook her, his fingers biting into her throat, and she beat her bound wrists at his arm as her airway was pinched closed. “La-lala-la! Oh, Armand isinsane!” he mocked her. “Youspeak to people who do not exist!Youdrove your betrothed away! All I want is what is due me, what has been stolen from me, denied me, these many years, and I’ll not be denied any longer!”
Tiny pebbles and detritus from the floor bounced off Armand’s head and back, but he paid it no mind, releasing Simone and looking toward Eldon.
“Raise him!”
“Nay!” Simone screamed through her abused throat as Eldon tossed the rope over the dripping beam and proceeded to pull back with all his weight. Nick rose to his feet slowly, stretching his body and neck as long as he could make them, rising on his toes. His feet scraped forward, and with a gurgle he swung out over the pit and rose, higher, higher. The beam creaked and moaned.
“I daresay, FitzTodd,” Armand said, then chuckled. “I do hope that beam does not give out.” He aimed a finger dramatically downward.
Nick’s face was reddening, and his eyes rolled toward his feet. He quickly returned Armand’s glare and kicked his legs.
The madman looked back to Simone, raising a palm to one side of his mouth as if he parlayed a bit of gossip. “Spikes.” He jerked his head toward the hole and wiggled his eyebrows. “Must have been the dungeon at one time. Convenient,non?”
Eldon looped the end of the rope around a rickety support beam two, three times and then stepped away. Simone could hear splintering wood.
“He’ll fall!” Simone cried, and struggled to her knees. She looked wildly for Didier, but he was nowhere to be seen.
“Oh,oui,’tis likely.” Armand nodded. “Or, he’ll strangle. It makes no difference to me.”
Simone gained her feet and began hobbling toward the support where the rope was slithering, slithering slowly as it unwound from the spongy wood. Nicholas gurgled and kicked. Eldon stepped toward her with a menacing growl, but Armand waved him off.
“Leave her. She has not the strength to hold him and ’twill keep her occupied until the wood fails and drags her in.”
Simone reached the rope and looped it as best she could around her hands and bound wrists. She leaned back with all her strength, and the beam creaked louder.
“Simone,” Nick gasped, “let go!”
“Nay,” she sobbed. “I’ll not let you fall!”
“Armand!” Genevieve’s voice, trembling and weak, rang against the howling wind. “Cut him down!”
Simone looked to where the lady’s voice had come. Genevieve had crawled to Nick’s discarded weapons and unsheathed a small dagger. She now held it to her own outstretched wrist.
“Cut him down or I will end my life this instant,” she threatened, her face an alabaster mask, eyes glittering gray ice.
Eldon looked from Armand to the lady, as if unsure what he should do.
“Genevieve, my treasure,” Armand soothed, his eyes wide. He stepped toward her. “There is no need—”
“Stay back!” she screeched. “One step further and I will slit my wrist—I swear it!”
The rough rope was slipping through Simone’s palms, dragging bits of skin with it. She felt as though her hands were on fire and that her spine would snap before the beam. From where she stood, she could see the tall, tree-high timbers standing upright in the pit, their ends whittled to crude, vicious points. The body of the unfortunate guard was skewered halfway down a spike, like a fish over hot coals.
Simone leaned back harder.
Perhaps it was because he was insane—or simply because he was foolish—that Armand took another step toward Genevieve. “My love, my heart…”
Genevieve sunk the tip of the blade into the milky white skin of her forearm, and blood, rich and thick and red, sprang forth.
“Non!” Armand screamed and quickly backed up a step, his good hand clutched to his chest. “You cannot! Genevieve—not after I have waited this long for you.” Tears actually began to run down Armand’s cheeks. “All that I have sacrificed—all for you!”
Genevieve glanced out of the corner of her eye. “Eldon…” she warned.
