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Forty-three

Ian inspected the inner bailey with a practiced eye and thought, Dristan will be pleased when he’s finished with his business inside the keep’s walls. The portcullis was already being raised, admitting the remainder of the king’s army. Hugh’s men began to flee in every direction imaginable with the sole purpose of keeping one’s hide from being captured. All knew ’twould not be pleasant to answer to King Henry or, even worse, Dristan of Berwyck. Better to die in battle than swinging from a rope.

Through the chaos currently ringing out in the courtyard, a faint cry of alarm caught Ian’s attention, and he swiftly took note of the direction of the sound. He glimpsed hair the color of the sun as a young woman was unwillingly dragged into Kenna’s hut. Such an occurrence was out of place with those trying to flee with their lives. ’Twas obvious from the displeasure of the lass’s continued screams that aid was in order. Since he had been tasked to find Lynet, he knew from the color of the hair he briefly witnessed that the girl was deep in trouble. Ian quickened his stride, hoping perchance under all the shyness Lynet usually showed the world, there housed a bit of her rebellious sister’s qualities. ’Twould keep her safe ’til he reached her side.

Sword in hand, he neared the dwelling. Reaching for the door, Ian was startled to hear a loud bang followed by loud curses. Pushing open the door, he proudly gazed upon Lynet wielding a heavy skillet. From the look of things, she had defended herself by waylaying her assailant in the head. The man looked dazed, but still drew his sword forward with a look of disbelief showing on his face. To be knocked senseless by a mere slip of a girl could not be good for one’s ego.

The look Lynet cast Ian from across the room clearly showed she was never so happy to see anyone in her life. A silent understanding passed between them, and she wisely backed herself into a corner away from the two men who were about to come to blows. A draft of cold air raced across the room from the open door. It drew a horrified gasp from Lynet, causing Ian’s attention to return to her. Anger consumed him, seeing the remnants of her gown exposing her breast. The skillet slipped through her hands, rattling on the floor as she hastily gathered the torn fabric together. Ian’s temper rose as he leveled his eyes on the man who had taken such liberties with the lass.

“You were a fool to think you could touch someone as innocent as Lady Lynet and still live to tell the tale,” Ian swore, advancing on the angry man afore him.

“A few more minutes and she would have been mine,” Gilbert declared with a smirk of satisfaction.

Ian’s gaze ran over the man’s features and knew he had come across his afore. “You look familiar to me, or am I mistaken?” Ian queried. “I would at least like to know the name of the man whom I will aid in meeting his master in hell!”

“Aye, you know of me, not that it shall matter. I am Gilbert, cousin of Sir Hugh.”

“I am sure you will meet your cousin again for I doubt Lord Dristan will allow the man to see another sunrise.”

Gilbert spat in the dirt. “My cousin is a fool, and I more so that I followed his idiotic plans.”  He licked his lips whilst his gaze drifted up and down Lynet, who raised her head in defiance. She grabbed the skillet once more. “Mayhap ’twas worth it.”

“Go ahead and just you try coming near me again!” she cried out, shaking the pan towards him. “I’ll gladly give you another lump on the other side of your head so you have a matching pair!”

Ian chuckled. “It appears the lady is not interested.”

“Harrumph! I could have changed her mind.”

Ian’s brows drew together in a frown. “And now you dare insult her in my presence?” he growled and advanced, bringing his sword forward.”

Gilbert met Ian half way across the room, and their swords rang out in the air. “Better to die at a pretty girl’s feet than what the Devil’s Dragon would have in store for me!”

“So be it,” Ian shouted.

The two men, who were of the same size, danced around the furniture, each testing the other’s worth. But Ian had the advantage from having trained with Dristan. His claymore sang out with each stroke that he wielded. ’Twas clear Gilbert was nowhere near his match, nor his equal. From one look in his eyes, he knew it, as well!

Starting to tire, Gilbert was shocked when his sword went flying from his hand. He stumbled a bit and once he regained his footing, he reached inside his boot for a dagger. With a mighty yell, he charged at Ian and the two went flying through the wall with bits of wood splintering around them. Those in the courtyard began to cheer in Ian’s favor as ’twas evident Dristan once more held Berwyck as his own.

“Finish him,” Dristan called out, certain Ian would see the deed done.

A confident smile crossed Ian’s features. He put away his sword and took dagger in hand.

Lynet poked her head out of the new opening of the hut then ran to Dristan when he called to her. He protectively held her in his arms.

“Do not worry, ma petite sister,” Dristan said, loud enough for all to hear, giving the girl a slight hug. “Ian will avenge your honor.”

“Of course he will,” Lynet said in confidence.

Some held their breath as the two men circled one another ’til they came together with muscle and sinew bulging in an effort to survive. Ian managed to finally knock Gilbert from his feet and when he rose, anger blazed ferociously in his eyes. He swiped his knife at Ian; once, twice, thrice, and still Ian easily remained untouched, causing Gilbert to grow more reckless in his attempt to kill the man afore him.

Ian had had enough of Gilbert’s games and advanced on his adversary with a calculating gleam as he assessed the man for his many weaknesses. His dagger sliced through the air with precision and speed ’til the blade crossed against Gilbert’s throat. His eyes momentarily showed a look of surprise afore he fell to the ground dead.

Wiping his blade and returning it to his boot, Ian turned in the direction of the cheering crowd. He watched as Lynet disengaged herself from Dristan and ran to him. Flinging herself easily into his arms, he caught the girl and held her close.

“You came for me!” she said in a breathless whisper. “I knew you would.”

Ian cleared his throat, overcome with emotions, knowing Lynet was safe. “I will always be here for you when you have need of me,” Ian said carefully and placed a chaste kiss upon her forehead.

“Well done, Ian!” Riorden shouted. “May our Lord Dristan have peace upon his land!”

A deafening cheer rose up from the villagers who had come to the castle for protection. They were joined with the garrison knights calling out good health to the lord and lady of Berwyck.

Ian felt Lynet’s arm go around his waist and gave in to seeing the adoration in her thankful eyes. He pulled her closer and saw a beautiful smile alight on her face, and he gladly returned it with one of his own. She deserved a moment of happiness. Not thinking of the consequences of his actions, Ian leaned down and tenderly touched his lips to hers.

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