However, Hugh had recovered enough to bark a disbelieving laugh. He did not move back, but rather threw an enraged glance to the captain of his guard. “There are a score of you, and only one of him. I command you to take him into custody without delay, so that he may be confined and questioned, as is to be every Templar found in England, at our great king’s behest.”
“You might want to reconsider that order, Captain,” Damien called in answer, and at that signal, he heard the movement behind him indicating that Richard and the other Templar Knights were stepping forward from the shadows near the door to show themselves. Damien tilted his head at the captain, never moving his gaze from the man’s face. “As you can see, I am not the only Templar Knight here this day. You will need to arrest us all, if you decide to obey your lord’s command.”
Without turning to look, Damien knew the Templars were lining up in a position of defense behind him that would be awe-inspiring to behold, forming a wall of the most fierce and skillful warriors the world had ever known. They aligned with each other in a readiness borne of constant training, lethal focus, and unwavering discipline to the art of warfare. Aye, they were outlawed Templars, desperate under the weight of the persecution against their Order and the Brotherhood that had sustained them—but nevertheless prepared to dispense justice with the bite of their blades.
And Hugh’s men knew it.
The soldiers could not help but react, their indecision turning to blatant fear in the face of the mighty Templar force only half their number. The priest looked more dismayed than ever, and he stepped back, as if standing too closely to Hugh might in some way taint him with sin. At the same time, Alissende struggled to pull away.
But Hugh was not ready to give up.
“You are going nowhere, sweet, until I say you are,” he growled to her. Suddenly his arm moved, and he grasped something near his waist before his hand raised again, with lightning speed, back to Alissende’s throat. Damien stiffened, bone-numbing fear surging through him when he saw that a dagger glinted in Hugh’s grip.
In reaction, the Templars all cleared their swords, and tumult ensued in the chamber, the assembled people not knowing whether to shrink back from the altar, or the aisles, or the doors at the back, hemmed in as they were on all sides by men wielding deadly weapons.
“Lord Harwick!” the priest called, compelled into action at last by this second burst of violence. “This is a house of God, and such threat of bloodshed is not only unmanly but profane! You risk excommunication in behaving so!”
“Then let it be, old man, for I will not give her up now. The king will back me and see this escaped heretic returned to the custody of the Inquisition!”
Hugh gripped Alissende more tightly, the edge of the blade digging into the tender skin beneath her jaw; she lifted her chin with a choked whimper as he leaned in to rasp in her ear, “Come along now, Alissende. We’ve no more time to waste.”
Then, yelling to his men nearest the door on the Gospel side of the chapel to give him cover, he began pulling her with him, slowly and painstakingly making his way toward the escape he was preparing.
Richard rushed forward with his men, but Damien lifted his hand to forestall them for a moment, not wanting any further distraction to hinder what he prayed would happen next.
Desperate, he sought Alissende’s frightened gaze, trying to keep his own calm, in that instant nodding and lifting his dagger in preparation, hoping she understood his unspoken message to her. He was encouraging her to take action, so that he might save her from the glittering doom at her throat.
And then everything seemed to slow, strung out in images that caused his blood to freeze, even as blind instinct and love took over.
Alissende took a deep breath, the panicked sensation inside her subsiding under the force of Damien’s gaze. She felt Hugh pulling at her, felt the sting of the blade at her throat, but she concentrated, remembering, and fisted her hand as she brought it forward. Then in one burst of explosive movement, she drove her elbow into Hugh’s belly with all the strength she possessed, at the same time gripping the smallest finger of the hand that held the dagger at her throat, and yanking back on it.
Damien and everything around her seemed to fade in a burst of white-hot light. She felt the blade bite sharply, felt the warm trickle of something—it had to be blood, her shock-dimmed mind supplied—slip down her neck.
I’ve failed. Oh, God, I’ve failed…
That horrible thought swept through her, the stunning realization overwhelming, sickening. But then suddenly, Hugh let go of her, and with a sudden rush everything that had been fettering her to him seemed to fall away. The world went topsy-turvy, and something hard slammed into her with a jolt that was none too heavenly. It felt like she’d hit the floor. The very hard floor. But she couldn’t feel that if she was dead, could she? She frowned in confusion and tried to speak, but no words came out.
“Alissende—oh, God, Alissende. Open your eyes, lady. Answer me.”
The low, penetrating voice filled her senses, and calm spread through her. It was Damien’s voice, and the unbearable love echoing in it made her want to smile. So she did, opening her eyes at the same time and seeing him hovering over her, before he clasped her to him. Then he pulled back and cupped her cheek, anguish, relief, and laughter all battling for precedence in his expression, making her smile more fully as she murmured, “I am not dead, it seems.”
“Nay, thanks be to God,” Damien said hoarsely, smiling too as he helped her up. “The wound is slight and should heal without stitching,” he murmured, brushing his thumb gently over the stinging cut at her throat. He gazed into her eyes for one long, beautiful moment, all the feelings inside of him apparent in his face, his love for her visibly driving out the fear that had dwelt there.
Then he leaned in and kissed her, gently and so sweetly that she knew she could not be dead, because she could not imagine feeling such sensations if she was no longer in flesh. In fact every inch of her felt the wonder of it, and hungry for more, she pressed her palms to his cheeks and pulled him closer, breaking their caress only when she was too breathless to continue.
But before they could speak aught else to each other,Mèrecame running up to them and pulled Alissende close to her, crying, the tears interspersed with kisses and murmured endearments in French. It was all quite dizzying. Damien apparently tried to move a little apart to give Lady Blanche room, but her mother would have none of it, pulling him closer again, and hugging him too, in gratitude and affection. In the next instant, though, she turned back to Alissende, examining the cut Hugh had given her, before she was gone again like a whirlwind, off to fetch her kit for healing ointment.
“My, butMèremoves quickly,” Alissende said under her breath. Still feeling dizzy with all that had happened, she reached out to Damien, who supported her, holding her close as she struggled to bring the world around her into focus once more.
The sounds and sights of people—so many people—moving and talking finally broke through her dazed feeling. She looked around her, watching Richard and several others of the Templars moving around the church, containing Hugh’s soldiers and trying to restore order among the people, many of whom still appeared distraught themselves. She saw the old priest, bent over near the sanctuary in prayer, his face ashen, likely thanking God for the blessing of living through the disaster that had almost come to pass.
And then she saw him.
Stiffening, Alissende clutched Damien’s hand more tightly, unable to tear her gaze from the sight of Hugh, who was lying not ten paces from them, sprawled upon the altar. He was on his back, and his eyes were sightless; his mouth was opened slightly, as if in shock…and the hilt of Damien’s dagger protruded from the center of his chest.
“You killed him, then,” she said with the slightest catch in her voice.
“Aye, Alissende. I am sorry, for I know he was your kin, but I could not risk anything less. When he held that blade to your throat—”
