Page 90 of Anice’s Bargain

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James had caught sight of his father coming up behind Anice at exactly the right time. The old man’s sword raised, his eyes bright with the effects of bloodlust. James hadn’t thought, he had only acted, lunging toward his father with his weapon drawn to protect the woman he loved.

Gaze fixed on his father, he flew through the air with all the strength he possessed. Something struck him in the side, a nudge he barely noticed, but enough to knock him slightly off his aim.

“Ye turned my son against me.” Laird Graham brought the blade down toward Anice.

Though James held only a dagger, he leapt in front of Anice with the paltry weapon held aloft to block the blow. The old man still had strength in him, wiry and determined, and the sword came down with more force than James could stop and sliced his chest.

James staggered back. For that one moment, the entire world slowed, the same as it had when he’d been struck at Lord Bastionbury’s castle. Anice spun around in surprise, then directed her attention from the danger of Laird Graham to James, her expression crumpling. Laird Graham angrily shifted his gaze from James to Anice and lifted his weapon once more. The army of reivers at Anice’s back rushed forward to aid him in killing her. In killing all the people of Werrick, no doubt.

James’s chest and his side blazed. “Nay.” He tried to run forward, cry out, anything that might stop them. But the ground was too slick, his body too tired, his voice only a whisper.

“James,” Anice cried. Seemingly oblivious of the danger behind her, she tried to go to him, but Laird Graham caught her by a fistful of hair and yanked her toward him with such force, the sword fell from her hand.

The momentum pitched her backward and she threw her elbow into the old man’s face. He staggered away, nose gushing with a spurt of blood. An arrow flew from somewhere unseen and sank deep into the aging laird’s throat. The old man hadn’t even had a chance to cry out before falling.

James’s own weight crushed down on legs that could no longer support him and he fell to his knees. Anice reclaimed her sword as several Werrick soldiers broke off from the melee in the courtyard entrance and stood at her back. Ready to defend her as well as their home.

“More men are coming from the east.” The masculine voice echoing down from the battlements was pitched with tension.

James’s mind reeled. More men? How could there be more reivers coming? Hadn’t they all arrived?

He looked to his father’s prone form where he lay face down in a growing puddle of blood. Were there more men joining them that Laird Graham hadn’t told him about?

“Nay.” James’s voice was too weak. He drew himself up, though it cost him dearly to do so. Every part of his body was leaden, and each breath he drew was like fire. Regardless, he filled his lungs and said more forcefully: “Nay.”

The word boomed out over the bailey, echoing over the warfare. He tensed the muscles of his legs to remain upright and straightened his back, though it made his entire body scream in agony.

“As new Laird of the Grahams, I command ye to cease.” The last word rang with authority.

The reivers opposite Anice regarded him warily, even as their dead laird lay at their feet.

“I’m yer laird,” he roared. “And I declare this battle finished.” The intake of breath to speak once more was like inhaling flames, but he continued. “On pain of death, all reivers will cease this fight and leave the inhabitants of Werrick Castle in peace. With my father’s death, so too dies the years of reiving and pillaging.”

As he spoke, the clatter of weapons began to quiet, and the courtyard went still.

“I want peace.” James’s voice was beginning to fail. So too was his energy. He stepped toward Anice, but then faltered, fading.

Anice cried out and ran to him.

“Forgive me.” Her arms came around him, enveloping the haze of pain in her sweet floral scent, easing his suffering with her beauty, her love and her incredible strength. A whimper caught in her throat. A sob.

“Forgive me, my love,” she whispered. Her cool hands stroked over his face. “Do not go to sleep.” There was a bright intensity to her gaze, as though she could will him to comply with her request. “For you may never wake if you do.” Her voice choked off.

“The reivers who are coming.” James gasped through the pain of his wounds. He had to tell her to act in his stead. As his wife, his consort, Lady of Caldrick Castle and a member of the Graham clan. He had to keep her and all their people safe.

Except he could speak no more. His tongue would not form the words and the strength of his neck couldn’t support the weight of his head. As darkness closed around on him, he clung to one very important thought: he must stay alive.

For if he were to die, Werrick would fall.

* * *

Anice had stabbed James.She had been part of the reason he had collapsed, why he might possibly die.

This last thought burrowed in her brain and left her frozen as she cradled James in her arms. His legs jutted out on the bloody cobblestones before them. He needed to be taken to Isla, and quickly. Werrick was still not safe. And yet she could not bring herself to move.

As though hearing her concern and putting it to voice, a soldier on the battlements cried out, “The army is descending upon us!”