And so the deadly dance continued.
*
Hold up inher luxurious bower, Derica could hear the shouts and screams from the battle. The noise and stench seemed to waft upon the wind in deadly breezes, filling all of Pembroke with tension and fear. The children played on the floor near the hearth, not entirely oblivious to what was going on but not particularly understanding it, either. Derica was thankful they were too young and too naïve to understand the severity of the situation.
Sian seemed to be fascinated with the knights on the walls but Derica kept urging him away from the window and back to his toys. He wanted to know why he could not go outside and fight with Sir Keller, something that was rather tricky to explain without insulting his fighting abilities. Derica assured Sian that Sir Keller was quite capable of defending the castle without him and she further explained that Sir Keller had left him with the women to protect them should the castle be breached. That seemed to pacify the little boy, who went back to his cart and horse, wondering aloud if he was going to get to use his sword today.
As the hours dragged on and the day turned into night, Derica became increasingly uneasy. Changing out of the fine surcoat she had worn to greet her father, she put on a simple surcoat with a deep neckline, the color of violets. Pulling her hair into a single braid, she wound it up at the nape of her neck to keep it out of her way, emphasizing her lovely neck and shoulders.
But she wasn’t thinking on how lovely she looked as she moved to the lancet window that overlooked the outer bailey; she was thinking of her father and brothers fighting to gain her,and of Keller fighting to protect her. There was increasing guilt over the man who would never receive her love or affection yet was more than willing to sacrifice himself. But she was mostly thinking of Garren. She wondered if Fergus had reached him yet.
The night wore on and so did the battle. Derica had given up trying to sleep as she sat vigilant watch over the slumbering children. The severe women had taken up station in a small servants’ alcove that adjoined Derica’s chamber, sitting in a frightened huddle, not moving from the stone bench built into the wall. As the battle dragged on and dawn began to approach, Derica found an excuse to leave the children in their care as she left the chamber, taking the stairs quickly to the main level of the keep.
Fortunately, the wooden stairs leading into the keep had not been retracted or burned to prevent the enemy from storming the keep. Gathering her skirts, Derica rushed outside, ignoring the soldiers calling to her. In her deep violet surcoat, her skin was pale and porcelain in the early morning hours as the sun and fog began to blend.
Breath coming in great puffs in the cold dawn, she made her way to the inner gatehouse but the soldiers on the battlements refused to open it for her. They had the inner ward bottled up tightly. Frustrated, she went to mount the stairs to the wall and ran straight into Keller.
He looked weary and stubbled, his dark eyes intense upon her. He grasped her by the elbow.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked. “Is there trouble in the keep?”
Derica shook her head. “Nay,” she replied. “Everyone is sleeping. I came to see if my husband has arrived yet.”
Keller’s gaze moved over her, the way she had her hair pinned back and the gentle slope of her neck and shoulders. She looked exquisite, more exquisite than he had ever seen her. Herwords, although reasonable, cut at him; the more time he spent with her, the easier it was to pretend that they would be together when all of this was over. He knew that was not the case but, for the sake of his morale, he did not want to think on it. Her words had rudely reminded him.
“He has not,” he replied, trying not to sound bitter. “Return to the keep and rest. I will let you know when Garren arrives.”
He was trying to gently push her back towards the keep but she resisted, finally breaking his hold on her elbow.
“I do not want to return to the keep,” she said staunchly, cutting him off when he attempted to insist. “Keller, if you were in my position and waiting for the arrival of someone you were told was dead, someone you loved very much, would you be able to remain calm? I cannot rest and I cannot remain calm. I want to be on the walls and wait for Garren.”
Keller’s sense of hurt was increasing. “You cannot wait upon the walls,” he said flatly. “Your father is shooting arrows over the walls and I do not want to take the chance that you will be hit. Go back inside.”
He seemed gruff; Derica couldn’t really blame him but she didn’t want to return to the keep. She reached out and grabbed his hand as he tried to shove her back.
“Please,” she begged softly. “Please let me stay out here. Just for a short while. I promise that I will not be any trouble.”
His expression grew frustrated. Just as he opened his mouth, a shout came from the western wall. Derica wasn’t sure what had been said but Keller suddenly bolted.
Derica ran after him and followed him up the narrow tower stairs, taking two at a time, before emerging onto the narrow wall walk. There were dozens of soldiers and two additional knights, armed to the teeth, all peering down into the river below.
It took several moments before two heads could be made out, swimming the cold river in the early dawn hours towards the castle. Keller hadn’t realized that Derica was next to him, heart in her throat as she strained to identify the swimmers. But it didn’t take a genius to deduce who would be making their way across the swift, silty river towards the castle; it was the same path Fergus had taken when he had left. It would only make sense that he was retracing his steps.
Before Keller could clearly identify the shapes in the muddy river, he began waving a big gloved hand towards the great gatehouse on the south side of the castle.
“Ready the archers,” he boomed. “Start launching everything we have at them. Keep their attention away from this wall.”
The two knights and about a dozen soldiers ran to do his bidding as the orders were shouted down the line and across the castle. In short time, the archers were launching great flaming long arrows over the walls and into Bertram’s front lines. The two siege engines that had been threatening for most of the night remained on station about thirty feet from the walls because none of Bertram’s men were brave enough to attempt moving them towards the walls again; all who had tried had been cut down or otherwise injured by de Poyer’s defense. Now, no one attempted to go near them as they all dove for cover.
With the main gatehouse alive with a renewed offense, Keller snapped orders to the men remaining around him.
“Lower a rope,” his voice was quick and controlled. “Get ready to pull them up.”
Derica was still hovering over the side of the wall, watching as a figure she recognized emerged from the river. She would have known that tall, powerful form anywhere. Joy at the confirmation surged and forgetting herself, she suddenly waved her arms and screamed.
“Garren!” she cried.
Startled, Keller ran at her and threw her in a bear hug, pulling her away from the wall. Derica struggled violently against him.