Peyton nearly lost her composure then. She bit her lip so hard to keep from replying that she sampled her own blood. Still, she kept silent. She had no choice.
He laughed softly and dug into his pack, bringing forth cheese and bread. Peyton caught sight of the food and realized she was starving. He ate loudly, enjoying every bite, and Peyton’s eyes stung with tears as she watched and listened. Her misery was growing by the second.
Misery for herself. Misery for Alec. She’d never told him she loved him, not once. True, she had confessed her feelings to Nigel and Alec had heard her, but she’d never told him face to face. She was desperate to see him again, to tell him how she had always loved him. She couldn’t remember when the irritation ceased and the love began, for it seemed as if she had loved him from the start. If God would only grant her the opportunity to hold him one last time, she would be content for all eternity.
The sun galloped across the bright blue expanse of sky, approaching late afternoon. Nightfall would soon be upon them and Peyton began to seriously worry about her stability. Her fatigued body was beginning to scream for release and she knew it would only be a matter of time before her mind would no longer be able to control the physical need. But for as long as she was able, she would fight. Tears spilled down her cheeks as her hand moved over her belly, comforting the child within. God help her, her son would grow to know his father. Her own selfish reasons aside, she had to live for the unborn heir.
Night was nearly upon them. Peyton’s limbs were frozen from hours of sitting upon the wet, cold ground and her eyes were attempting to gain a measure of rest. The lids would droop closed, only to be startled open again by Peyton’s inner sense of self-preservation. Colin had not moved from his post by the tree, and she would make sure that she kept him in full view until he succumbed to the exhaustion they were both experiencing.
She prayed that Colin would find his rest first. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could remain strong. But her exhaustion eventually proved to be too much for the new mother to take– sleep claimed her and she was hardly unaware of the state. She was unaware when she crashed softly to the ground, unaware when Colin rose, his ears piqued at the faint sound. She wasn’t aware when he began to hunt for her in earnest, stalkingher like a cat. She only became aware when someone grabbed her by the hair.
Instantly awake, Peyton let out a howl that reverberated off the trees. Colin had her by the hair, pulling her from her protective thicket, scratching her tender white flesh as he dragged her through the thorns and branches. His grunts of effort mingled with her screams, filling the fen like an eerie symphony.
Peyton was full of vigor, of fight. She swung her fists at him, kicking and biting and aiming for his soft groin or his neck. He struck at her, feebly, for it was difficult to strike and maintain his hold on her hair. She was a wild thing, an animal fighting for survival, and Colin was amazed at the strength she exhibited.
Nonetheless, he managed to pull her out into the clearing that overlooked the bog. His dirk was lodged in the tree trunk and he struggled toward it, dragging his fighting quarry across the cold, dark earth. Peyton dug her heels in, driving her fists into his soft abdomen when he moved too close to her. Gasping, he slapped her across the face.
She slapped him back, and kicked him, and screamed and cursed and howled like an unearthly being. She knew he was moving for the dagger wedged into the tree and she used all of her strength to keep him from reaching it. It did not matter that he was nearly pulling her bald; the loss of a chunk of hair was insignificant to the loss of her life.
Colin was stronger and larger and, inevitably, was gaining ground towards the tree. Peyton had resorted to scratching, drawing blood on the hand that gripped her hair as he cursed and slugged at her with balled fists. Still, she did not give up.She had to fight.
It took a small eternity of screaming and fighting, but he managed to drag her close enough to the tree where he was able to touch the hilt of the dagger with his fingertips. His arm wasextended as long as it could go, straining, pleading, begging to acquire the instrument of murder. He could almost reach it.
Colin was so involved in his quest that he failed to hear the approaching thunder. Peyton was so caught up in her struggle that she neglected to feel the trembling of the ground. All she knew was that her frozen feet were numb, her body was near collapse, and she had bloodied her hands fighting Colin.
Distant thunder rolled across the fen, lured by the loud screams of a desperate woman. The advance of myth, mortal, and man combined. The Legend had arrived.
Colin was the first to realize the advance. He paused suddenly, his senses failing to believe what his eyes were undeniably envisioning. The largest knight he had ever seen was bearing down on him, flanked by two equally large warriors. They were laden down with so much armor that it was impossible to distinguish any identifiable characteristics other than Death.
Colin knew who they were. Somehow, some way, Alec had found them. His mind was whirling with frenzied thoughts, coming so fast and furiously that he barely had time to grasp them. For the moment, he could barely comprehend anything other than being rid of the banshee within his grasp. It did not seem to matter than Alec would witness his action; all that mattered was being rid of her. The last punishment would be handed out and Alec would witness it.
Colin stopped attempting to drag Peyton by the hair. Instead, he balled his fist and swung as hard as he could, catching her in the temple. Peyton collapsed, falling against him. The ground shook underneath his feet as he swept her into his arms, struggling with every ounce of strength toward the murky bog.
*
Alec saw himcarrying his wife’s limp form toward the bottomless muck. Midas was already moving as fast as he could go, but still, Alec drove his spurs into his silver sides until they bled. He had to make it to her. Christ, he was so close he could taste her and he refused to succumb to the wild panic that was threatening. But even as he raced toward the two figures, he knew he would not be in time.
Peyton hit the muddy water of the bog with a loud splash. A second later, Alec was upon Colin as the man raced back toward his charger, desperate to retrieve his blade. Toby and Ali immediately reined their destriers at the edge of the muddy pit. Ali dismounted first and started to plunge into the cloudy water when Toby halted him.
“You do not know how deep it is!” he shouted. “Give me your hand!”
Ali grasped the extended gauntlet, plunging feet first into the muddy mess. He sank up to his thighs, desperately searching underneath the surface for a scrap of cloth, a bit of hair, a hand.Anything.But his urgent grasp met with leave and twigs, and he continued to descend as the water level moved up to his groin, his hips, his waist. Deeper and deeper he went and, still, there was nothing. No sign, no Peyton.
He let go of Toby’s hand and tore off his helm, tossing it to the shore. He was vaguely aware of Alec shouting his name, but he ignored him. He had to find Peyton.
Armor and all, Ali dove underneath the surface of the bog.
Alec came torest beside Colin’s charger. In spite of the fact that he hadn’t worn armor in twelve years, he moved with the grace of a cat, as if the plates of metal were an insignificant drain on his incredible strength. Sword unsheathed before Midas had come to a halt, he dismounted the steed with unparalleled agility and charged toward his fumbling nemesis. Colin barely had timeto move into a defensive position before Alec brought his sword down in a crushing strike.
The blow sent Colin to his knees. The horses danced about as he scampered underneath his mount in an attempt to escape The Legend’s wrath. Alec kicked the horse aside and charged after his enemy, his mind torn between Ali’s rescue and his own attempt to exact vengeance. He thought he shouted to Ali, once, but he couldn’t be sure. Colin was up in an offensive stance and Alec found himself fully focused on the challenge.
It did not matter that Alec hadn’t wielded a sword since he had gutted his brother in the heat of battle. From the moment he had reclaimed his weapon it was as if it had never left his hand. As if it were a physical extension of his body. When Colin attacked him with a strong downparry, Alec responded with a swift movement of his own that sent Colin reeling into a thicket of holly.
Alec followed him into the brush, desperately torn between his wife’s rescue and the justice he must dispense. He knew, for his own peace of mind, that he must do what was necessary. He would have to trust his wife to Ali and Toby.
As he trusted them with his own life, he would have to trust them with Peyton’s. At the moment, there was no other alternative.
Alec wasn’t in the mood to test his dormant skills. He was determined to bring about a quick kill and when Colin regained his footing, Alec plowed into him with unearthly power. Thrust, parry, thrust, parry…. on and on it went. The very air trembled with the collision of their might.
