The Fifth Knight(81)

He’s killed Ursula. Grief and rage flooded Theodosia’s arms with fresh strength, and she clambered on. As she neared the dry stone wall at the top, Benedict leaned down to her from the gap.

“I’ve got you.”

He hauled her up beside him, and she stood up. Her legs shook from fear and effort and would hardly support her. The driving mist cloyed her face, dampened her hair.

“Where can we go?” She scanned the fort top, but all it consisted of was the dry stone wall and a smooth green circle of grass inside it.

“I’ll hold them off.” Benedict didn’t take his eyes off le Bret and Fitzurse far below. He bent to pick up another couple of black and gray rocks from the fallen area of the wall.

She gasped. “They’re climbing up here.”

Benedict flung a rock down, and it caught le Bret on the shoulder.

“You’re dead, Palmer.”

“Go along the wall to the other side,” Benedict said to her. “Stay on the top, it’s quicker than cutting across the middle.” He threw another stone, this time at Fitzurse.

But the element of surprise was lost. The knight swiveled to one side, and it bounced past him without harm.

Benedict continued his rapid orders. “Once you’re as far across as you can go, climb down and double back for the horses. Take Quercus. And go.”

“I’m not leaving you.” Theodosia grabbed at a stone and cast it down at le Bret. Her aim was true and caught him on the arm, but had no effect.

“My, my,” said Fitzurse. “Throwing pebbles, Sister? How unbecoming.”

Le Bret grunted with laughter as he made swift progress.

“Go, Theodosia.” Benedict’s look allowed no argument.

She clambered up onto the high ridge of intact wall. To her left, a drop of fifty feet, to her right, twenty, both veiled in swirling wet fog. Her head spun. She concentrated on the narrow gray path beneath her shoes as she took fast but cautious steps.

“Le Bret! The wench is making a run for it!” came Fitzurse’s shout.

Theodosia increased her pace as much as she dared, then slithered to a halt. The wall hadn’t crumbled only where Benedict stood. It had collapsed here too, in a wide gap of fallen stone. What else could she do? She turned to call to Benedict. In time to see le Bret haul his monstrous bulk up onto the wall between her and her knight. She was trapped.

“Theodosia, don’t stop!” yelled Palmer, as le Bret steadied himself, sword ready.

The mist shifted in a gust of cold wind. Forcurse it. A gap in the wall. She could go no further.

“You’re mine, Sister.” Le Bret closed in on her along the top of the narrow wall.

“Get away from her.” Palmer aimed a couple of rocks at him. He may as well have thrown a daisy at a bear.

Theodosia backed away from the sword tip, feet inches from the edge of the long drop. “Never.”

“Need a hand up there?”

Palmer looked down. Fitzurse had changed course to le Bret’s path and made steady progress toward the big knight and a rigid Theodosia.

Palmer bent and grabbed two of the largest chunks of flint he could see. “I said leave her, le Bret.” He jumped up onto the wall and bolted to where le Bret loomed over Theodosia.

The huge knight adjusted his sword in both hands. He raised it up, preparing to smash it through her skull as he had done with Becket’s.

“Le Bret! Your back!” Fitzurse’s warning came close below.

Le Bret paused and turned at his lord’s warning. When his eyes lit on Palmer, he grinned with the unscarred side of his mouth. “Come for a closer look, Palmer?”

Benedict threw a flint at him. It caught him on one temple, and blood exploded from the blow.

Theodosia’s hands flew to her face.

Le Bret roared in pain and teetered on his feet but steadied himself. “I get you after the girl, Palmer.” Le Bret readjusted his grip before he turned back to Theodosia.

Palmer’s fist closed around his last, heavy stone, Mother Ursula’s words sharp in his mind: Le Bret has a huge wolf bite at the top of his leg. He aimed at the bandage on Le Bret’s thigh. Then he threw.

Le Bret’s scream of agony echoed through the fort of the ancients as he doubled over. His heavy sword overbalanced him, and he fell into the collapsed section of wall. His massive frame struck the pile of loose rocks. They shifted under the impact and began to roll.

Fitzurse flung himself to one side as a screaming le Bret and the pile of knocking rubble surged toward him. It was of no help. He too was swept down in the bruising, suffocating flood of rock.

The avalanche settled in the bottom of the moat, and silence returned to the hillside, save for the moan of the wind.