Page 85 of Mesmerized

“Wait.” Alys raised her hand to silence her and cocked her head, listening. “’Tis closer—the fighting.” She stood up and hurried to the door, leaning her head against it. Again she lifted off the bar and eased the door open.

They were so near that she could see them now, only a few feet below her. Blood streamed down the side of John’s face, and his arm moved more slowly. He stumbled a little as his foot sought the stair above him, and Alys gasped, fearing he would fall. But he righted himself and moved on.

He was tiring. Soon he would stumble and fall, and then the swords would come flashing down.

“John!” she called.

“Alys! What are you doing? Get back in the room. Bar the door!”

“Not without you!”

“Are you mad?”

“I will not leave you. I told you that.”

Sword rang against sword. John cursed. He could feel the air from the open door behind him. He eased back, making his strokes weaker, and the lead soldier pressed on eagerly. John continued to mount the steps, moving more quickly now. His opponent followed, outstripping the soldiers behind him. John did not need to glance back; his feet were on the landing. He jumped back, landing inside the room. Alys swung the door shut, but John’s opponent jumped, too, crashing into the door and sending Alys stumbling back.

He pushed his way inside, and Alys slammed the door behind him, pulling down the bar. John came forward, swinging his sword, all pretense of weakness gone. Two quick, hard blows sent the man stumbling back, and John lashed out with his foot, catching him behind his heels, and swept upward, sending him crashing to the floor. John rammed his sword home in the man’s throat.

He pulled the sword out and turned to face Alys. Blood and sweat mingled, streaming down his face. “God’s blood, woman! I told you to close yourself in here! Do you know what you risked?”

“Only what you risked for me,” Alys replied.

He dropped his sword and swept her into his arms, holding her close.

Outside, the soldiers crashed uselessly against the door. John glanced toward it, and his mouth twisted in contempt. “They’ll try the battering ram next, but they’ll find the staircase is built too close. ’Twill take axes.”

He dropped down onto the floor and leaned against the wall, casting a glance toward Elwena. “Why did you save her?”

“I could not let them kill her.”

John looked at her and smiled. “No. I suppose you could not. She would never have done the same for you.”

There were noises outside of men coming and going, and then the sounds of someone hacking at the door.

“Battle-axes,” John judged. “I’ll have time to rest.”

But then there more rustlings at the door, and men shouting at one another. And then, faintly, they smelled smoke. Alys turned to John, alarmed.

“What is that? What are they doing?”

“They must have lit a fire against the door—piled kindling and got it started. They hope it will burn through the door, make their job easier—or smoke us out.”

“It will be much quicker, then, than I had thought.” Alys glanced around. “The flames will set these rushes on fire.”

He nodded and began pushing the dry rushes away from the door and toward the center of the room.

“Wait.” Elwena motioned to them to come nearer.

“What is it?” Alys went over to kneel beside her.

“I can get you out of here,” Elwena said.

“What?” She must be delirious, Alys thought, from loss of blood.

“No. ’Tis the truth. I know a way out. But you must promise me—promise me you will take my boy. Care for him. Promise you will raise him as your own.”

“Of course I would care for him.” Alys looked over at the big-eyed child sitting beside his mother. “But we cannot leave. There are soldiers—”