The last sound he heard was his lady’s scream.
“Ramsay!” Evangeline cried, such anguish in her voice that his heart was warmed by her fear for him.
Ramsay had time to acknowledge that he had failed her before all faded to darkness.
* * *
Not Ramsay.
Not thus.
Evangeline knew he would have wanted her to flee alone, but she knew she would not escape Rufus, not now, and she feared that man’s intent. She turned Basilisk and raced the horse back to Ramsay’s side, where Rufus awaited her. His smile was cold and confident, his eyes as chilly as a lake in winter.
“Well met, my lady,” he said, inclining his head slightly. His men gathered slowly around him, menace emanating from them like a tangible force.
“My lord!” one cried and pointed to Hugues and Anna, who stumbled to the north together. Hugues was forcibly tugging the maid after him while she wept, and the two palfreys trotted near them, their reins dragging. “They will escape!”
“Let them go,” Rufus said. “I have no quarrel with servants.” His gaze remained locked upon Evangeline, a clear indication that his quarrel was with her. “Have you no gratitude to express, my lady, now that I have saved you from this ruffian?”
His tone challenged her to disagree with him, but Evangeline guessed it would not be wise to challenge her betrothed outright before those of his men who survived.
“Of course, my lord,” she said demurely, bowing her head. “I thank you.”
“You sound unconvinced, my lady,” Rufus said, then moved his horse quickly to be alongside Basilisk. Once again, he hauled her from a horse’s back. Once again, he cast her to the ground before him. Evangeline’s courage faltered when she looked up at him, silhouetted against the morning sky, his manner both forbidding and forceful.
“I thank you for your intervention, sir,” she said, unable to hide her fear of him.
“And what is this?” He drew his sword with a flourish and she refused to cower, even when he swung it and landed the tip upon her supposed belly. “I heard you had wed another, my lady, but this is a hasty conception.” With that, he flicked his wrist and sliced open the front of her kirtle, ensuring that the spare cloth tumbled from the gash. He clicked his tongue. “It seems your wayward companion has instructed you in the propagation of falsehood, my lady. That is yet another reason to take issue with his deeds.” He turned his head then, the tip of his sword yet against her stomach, and spat upon Ramsay.
That knight did not stir.
Evangeline feared the worst then, and lifted a hand toward Ramsay, earning herself a slash of the sword across the back of her hand.
“Careful, my lady,” Rufus purred. “Your loyalties might be misconstrued.”
“What will you do, sir?” Evangeline had to ask.
“You must have guessed, my lady. You are not so slow of wit as that.” Rufus dismounted and strode to look down upon Ramsay. He kicked Ramsay’s boot, but the fallen knight did not stir. He flicked a glance at one of his men, who dismounted and bent over Ramsay.
“He yet lives, my lord.”
“Nay,” Rufus said with a smile. “He does not.” He lifted the sword to Ramsay’s chest and made to drive the blade into the defenseless man, a travesty of every code of honor Evangeline knew.
“Nay!” she cried and threw herself toward Rufus. Her hand was upon his elbow when he turned to look coldly upon her, but she did not withdraw it.
“Do you question my choice, my lady/”
She straightened. “I merely fear for your reputation, my lord. There are those who might think it unfitting for a lord of your authority to condemn even a brigand without a hearing.”
“And there are those who would applaud my decisiveness,” he replied. “In truth, it would solve a most persistent issue, and do so with a finality that I find pleasing.”
“But surely it is against your knightly vows to take the life of a man who cannot defend himself.”
“My knightly vows require my defense of widows, orphans, children and ladies in distress,” he noted, biting off the words as he watched her. Aye, he did not like this challenge, not before his men, but she could not let him kill Ramsay before her eyes.
“But surely a mere vagabond is not even worthy of your wrath, sir.”
Rufus turned a little, lifting his blade from Ramsay’s chest. If that man had been feigning his condition, this would have been the ideal moment to surprise his opponent, but Ramsay did not move.
