Constantine held Christian’s face pressed to his tunic, turned away from the sight of the fiend and his dam.
“Fetch my horse, Mother,” Felsteppe commanded, brandishing his sword in a laughable display, as if he would hold off the men before him.
“We don’t need your horse where we’re going,” Eseld said, walking toward him with a smile.
“I’m certainly not walking.” Felsteppe sneered at her.
She stood close to him, reaching up with one trembling hand and stroking his face. “I tried my best to love you,” she said through quivering lips. “It wasn’t your fault in the beginning. But I just couldn’t,” she said in a coo, raising her eyebrows.
Then Eseld’s left hand shot up from her skirts, burying the dagger clenched in her fist beneath Glayer Felsteppe’s ribs as he gasped.
“You ruined my life,” Eseld said through gritted teeth.
Constantine held Christian’s head against his tunic. “Don’t look,” he whispered.
Felsteppe raised his own blade and drove it into the woman’s back. Eseld gave a feeble cry and seemed to gather her strength to withdraw her blade and pierce him a second time.
They collapsed to the dirt together, staring with black malevolence into each other’s eyes as first Felsteppe and then Eseld breathed no more.
The road was as silent as the tomb for which it currently acted for the pathetic pair fallen in the weeds. Only the hush of the wind, the creaking of saddle leather, and the scrape of hoof disturbed the silence.
A sobbing breath erupted from Constantine’s chest. He picked up Christian and held him high against his body, still keeping his son’s face averted from the carnage, and walked up the road toward Benningsgate. He felt more than heard his brothers behind him.
Once he was halfway to the ruin, the line of beings along the ridge of Benningsgate charged down toward the village, setting the road beneath Stan’s feet vibrating. The air was filled with howls and the gnashing of teeth, the Latin drone of the Templars, and later, the sound and smell of a crackling blaze.
The odor was sulfurous.
Epilogue
January 1183
Thurston Hold
Adrian stalked into the room, barely managing to swerve around Christian and William, who were lying on the thick rug before the hearth, playing with one of Adrian’s own discarded models. He lost his preoccupied frown for a moment to smile down and wink at the older boy before once more shaking the plans in his hand at Constantine.
“A word, Stan,” he called.
“Yes,” Constantine answered emphatically while holding up his palm, causing Adrian to cock an eyebrow at him as he unceremoniously shoved the cups to the edges of the table and spread the vellum across the top.
“I think he means it, Adrian,” Dori said with a smile in her voice, picking up her own cup and moving it out of harm’s way. “Constantine has complete faith in your and Roman’s expertise.”
“Yes, of course he does,” Adrian said with a frown, “but we’ve had an idea that changes the north wall. If we entrench this lower level here”—he drew his long finger down the side of the line of the proposed corridor—“and add a second set of stairs here . . .” He pointed to the darker-inked square currently outside the wall. “The perfect location for the storage of armaments, accessible to the soldiers should they need them at a moment’s notice, in the case of a siege or what have you.”
“The oratory,” Constantine said and met Dori’s eyes, already large and fearful at the thought.
“It’s in remarkable condition,” Adrian continued, oblivious to Stan’s wife’s distress. “Built in the old style. It would greatly add to the structure of the new gatehouse, as well as be of immense practical use. I don’t know why we didn’t include it in the first place.”
“No, Aid,” Constantine said quietly.
Adrian raised his eyes. “You really want it filled in?”
Constantine glanced at Dori, who had turned her face away to gaze at the boys still playing on the floor.
“We do,” he said to Adrian.
Adrian sighed and stood aright, rerolling his plans. “Fine. It’s your keep. By the way, Victor said he will be ready for us after supper.”
Constantine laughed. “Supper was two hours ago.”
