He wanted her to hear it from his lips.
“I was wrong,” he said. “I was wrong not to have believed you. If you cannot forgive me, I understand, but I hope you will consider it. I would be grateful.”
Grier’s mouth popped open in surprise and her hands flew to her mouth as if to hold back the gasp of shock. With all of the turmoil she’d gone through, the heartache and the anguish, those simple words ended it all as if her pain had never existed. Dane’s words had wiped it all free until the love she felt for the man was the only thing she was aware of.
“There is nothing to forgive,” she said tightly. “It was my fault. It was my clumsy attempt to help in a situation I should not have meddled in. I thought I could help, but I made a mess out of things. I hope you will forgive me, too.”
Dane smiled faintly, hearing the adoration and sincerity in her voice. His heart swelled with joy. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, but there were dozens of men standing around, including one man who wanted Grier very badly. He was afraid that if he told her of his feelings for all to hear, it might incite ap Madoc somehow. But as he thought about it, he truly didn’t care if the man knew or not. They were both fighting for the same women. The winner would depend on who loved her most, who was willing to fight the hardest.
Dane intended it should be him.
“Of course I forgive you,” he said simply. “I love you. Remember that.”
Grier looked at him with an expression that suggested she was shocked to the bone by his admission. But the light of warmth in her eyes, the one that Dane had become so familiar with, flamed into a roaring blaze as a smile of unimaginable beauty spread across her lips.
“And I love you,” she said softly. “So very much.”
Dane returned her smile. He heard her words, as nearly everyone else standing around them had, but he didn’t care who knew it. He loved the woman and she loved him, and that was all that mattered. That knowledge gave him the strength of angels.
Turning to Davies, he could feel an unusual sense of power surge through him.
“Now,” he growled, eyeing the man. “Let’s get on with this.”
Davies could only feel hatred as he looked at Dane. He’d heard Grier tell the man she loved him, and much as the declaration fed Dane’s strength, it also fed Davies. If Dane was dead, then there would be no man for Grier to love. She would belong to Davies and he would make her love him. He had to make her love him. Perhaps in fighting Dane, she would see how strong he was and she would see how very much he loved her.
Delusional thoughts, but his thoughts nonetheless.
Davies was used to having his way in all things.
Wrapped in a dirty woolen cloak, with a long tunic and hose, Davies yanked off his cloak and tossed it to one of his men. When Dane saw him preparing, he did a little preparation of his own. Boden was still standing back behind him and he turned to the man.
“This should not last long,” he muttered. “However, I will say this – if the worst happens and it looks as if I am losing, William has archers on the battlements. Someone must plant an arrow in ap Madoc and take out as many of his men as you can. But most importantly, get Grier away from here. Get her up to the keep and lock her in. Those bloody bastards must not have a chance to take her. Is that clear?”
Boden nodded grimly. “It is,” he said. “Why can we not simply plant an arrow in ap Madoc now? The man killed Syler, Dane.”
Dane lifted an eyebrow. “And that is exactly why I cannot finish him off right away,” he said. “Ap Madoc is going to feel my wrath. Every blow I deliver will have Grier and Syler’s name on it. I will have satisfaction, Boden. This is as much about me as it is about Grier or Syler. We are all involved. Do you understand that?”
Boden did. He didn’t like it, but he understood. After a moment, he simply nodded, turning to lose himself in the English soldiers, quietly passing the word among them – if it looks as if the duke will lose, grab Lady de Russe and take her to safety. There were enough soldiers that the Welsh genuinely had no chance, but Boden understood Dane’s need to teach ap Madoc a lesson. The man had tried to kill him and ended up taking out an innocent knight instead. Now, he was going to pay.
Let the schooling begin.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Dane threw the first punch, sending Davies flying.
Dane was well-built and muscular, but he was a lot stronger than he looked, and he threw the punch before Davies was fully prepared to take it. But Dane didn’t care, nor did he give Davies a chance to recover. He went after the Welshman with a vengeance, fully intending to beat the man into a stupor and then strangle him. Since they had no weapons, it was the only way to end Davies’ life, and Dane went on the offensive from the onset.
As Davies ended up on his knees, bells ringing in his ears, Dane jumped on him and threw an arm across his throat, preparing to kill the man from the beginning. He squeezed as Davies tried to dislodge him, but when that didn’t work because he was starting to see stars, he grabbed a handful of dirt from the bailey beneath his hands and threw it back in Dane’s face, temporarily blinding him.
As Dane launched himself backwards, off of Davies, the Welshman picked himself up and charged. Dane hadn’t quite cleared his vision before Davies was on him, pummeling him in the gut and then slamming him on the back of the neck when he bent over. Dane went down and, now, Davies was on top of him.
But that didn’t last long; Dane had five brothers and he knew how to fight and wrestle. Reaching behind him, he grabbed Davies by the hair and yanked hard, pulling Davies mostly off of him. Then, he rolled sideways, enough so that he was able to come up again and throw himself forward, pitching Davies to the ground. Then he threw two brutal punches, both to the face, and blood began to spray.
Now, the fight turned gory.
As Dane and Davies threw vicious punches at each other, William came down from the battlements and went to stand next to Boden. Together, the two of them watched the fight closely, hearing the increasing clamor from the men as they began to shout encouragement to their scrappy duke.
Usually, it was William and Boden wrestling or throwing punches at each other, and almost always in good fun unless one of them had seriously peeved the other party but, even then, they weren’t out to kill each other. They were only trying to prove who was the strongest and, ultimately, the best fighter. But watching Dane and ap Madoc go at it, they were awed by Dane’s fighting ability. Dane may have been the shortest de Russe brother, but he was by no means the weakest.
Boden began to have new respect for his older brother. And William felt the same.
“Remind me not to anger Dane any time soon,” Boden muttered.
William could only nod his head, wincing when Dane threw a punch at ap Madoc’s face that hit the man squarely in the nose. He swore he could hear the bones crack as blood went spraying over both men. He and Boden glanced at each other, shaking their heads with the brutality of the fight. Nearly at the same time, they looked to the opposite side of the circle of men surrounding the two combatants to see how Grier was handling it.
Terrified didn’t quite cover the expression they saw.
She was clinging to the other woman, watching the fight with horror, turning her head away when the bloody spectacle became too much. As Boden and William watched her reaction, Boden leaned in to William.
“We have to get her away from those Welsh,” he muttered. “I do not want to wait until the end. It is possible that they will not let her go even if Dane wins.”
William nodded, for he’d been thinking the same thing. “What do you want me to do?”
Boden thought swiftly as ap Madoc delivered a blow that sent Dane stumbling backwards. “Ap Madoc’s men are watching the fight,” he said. “You could go over there and steal her away where she is standing. They wouldn’t realize it until it was too late.”
William was willing to do it. “You keep your eye on the fight,” he said. “If it looks as if Dane is losing, giv
e the signal to the archers overhead. They are awaiting your command.”
Boden knew that. As William slipped away in the crowd, Boden glanced up to the battlements to see several archers positioned, their weapons aimed at the fight below. He felt much better knowing they were there, because when he returned his attention to the fight, it was clear that ap Madoc had managed to knock the wind out of Dane.
Even a man with many brothers got a licking once in a while, and Dane was getting his. Ap Madoc’s blow had sent him onto his back and before he could get up, Davies was sitting on his chest, pummeling his head in the quest to knock him unconscious. The man was sitting in such a way that he was pinning one of Dane’s arms, and Dane was having a difficult time avoiding the blows coming at him. Without any options, Dane had to ram a fist into ap Madoc’s privates just to force the man to stop hitting him. It was a hard blow, and probably not too honorable, but it did the job; ap Madoc grunted and doubled over, giving Dane the chance he needed to push him onto his back and pounce.
On and on it went, blow after blow, and Dane had to admit he was becoming weary. Ap Madoc was, too, because he was becoming sloppy with his fists. The power behind the blows wasn’t nearly what it had been at the start, and with that knowledge, Dane started planning his death blow.
In truth, he’d hoped to wear ap Madoc out, making the death blow easy, but ap Madoc had been surprisingly strong and steady. He hadn’t been easy to wear down, which was where Dane had miscalculated slightly. Therefore, he was going to have to get him on the ground again in order to deliver the death blow. The more he fought with the man, the angrier he became. Ap Madoc was a man who was trying to take away everything Dane had, and he wasn’t going to tolerate it any longer.
Feeling his exhaustion, Dane knew he had to move before it was too late.
The end was coming, and it was coming for ap Madoc.
Grier couldn’t bear to watch but, on the other hand, she couldn’t look away.
Her future was being decided before her very eyes.
Clinging to Eolande, the women watched as Dane and Davies threw punches at each other, rolling around in the dirt and pounding on one another until the blood began to splatter. Grier thought she might sincerely become ill as she watched even though most of the blood was Davies’.
It was all so foolish and wasteful.
It didn’t have to come to this.
“Why could he not simply leave me alone?” she murmured to Eolande. “Why did he have to come, Landy? Why?”
Eolande was holding fast to Grier. “Pride,” she said softly. “Pride and envy. As long as you remained at St. Idloes, he was willing to let you go, but the moment you became another man’s possession, he went mad with rage and envy.”
Grier flinched as Davies landed a serious blow to Dane’s face. Looking away for a moment, she closed her eyes tightly.
“He is a fool,” she hissed. “Your brother is a ridiculous fool. Does he not realize I am Dane’s wife? Does he truly think he can steal me away?”
Eolande was watching her brother’s blood splatter over the ground. “Are you truly happy, Grier?”
Grier nodded, turning to Eolande with an expression that conveyed the distress she was feeling. “Aye,” she murmured. “I love my husband. I never thought I would. You know I did not wish to marry him. But he has been so kind and sweet… aye, I am very happy. And now this…”
She trailed off, unable to continue, and Eolande was struck by the reality of the situation. Grier had actually fallen in love with her handsome husband, for it was the first time Eolande had ever seen him. Dane de Russe, he’d called himself. Big and blond, he’d looked at Grier in a way that made Eolande’s stomach quiver. There had been gentleness and adoration there, as bright and brilliant as when the world was new. All women needed to be looked at the way Dane de Russe looked at Grier.
And now Davies was trying to ruin everything.
Eolande’s heart was breaking in more ways than she could comprehend.
“Davies came to me at St. Idloes and told me that he’d killed your husband,” she said after a moment. “That is why I am here, Grier. He asked me to come with him so that when he married you, I could live here with you both. Even though you’ve been gone a few short days from St. Idloes, I have missed you terribly. I was very lonely without you. So, I came with him, but I also came with him to ensure he did not get into any trouble. See how I have failed.”
There was a loud grunt and both women turned to see Dane literally picking up Davies and throwing him onto the ground, momentarily stunning him. As they watched, Dane came down on Davies’ chest and managed to pin both arms with his knees. His hands went straight for Davies’ throat and he began to squeeze.
The entire crowd of men grew silent as Dane had the Welshman by the throat. He was squeezing so hard that Davies’ face was turning a deep shade of red. Realizing her brother was being strangled, Eolande began to panic.
“Do not let him kill my brother,” she begged Grier, tugging on her. “Grier, please – do not let him kill Davies!”
Grier glanced at her friend, truly unable to look away from what was happening. Dane was winning and Davies was dying; it was as simple as that. But beside her, Eolande was beginning to emit hysterical pants.
It was, perhaps, the most difficult thing Grier had ever had to face.
“I cannot interfere,” she said, finally tearing her gaze away to look at Eolande. “Davies has terrorized us, Landy. He killed one of my husband’s knights, thinking it was my husband. You heard what was said; he has threatened to never stop until Dane is dead and I belong to him. Why did he come to Shrewsbury today? He thought Dane was dead, so clearly, he came to claim the widow. You know it is true.”
Eolande was looking at her brother in horror. Davies’ face was now turning blue. “But he is my brother!”
Grier was surprisingly unmoved. Given the choice between Davies’ life and Dane’s, she would choose Dane every time.
It wasn’t even a difficult choice.
“He is a murderer,” Grier said. “If Dane does not kill him, then he will kill Dane. Landy, I love you… but I cannot live the rest of my life fearing Davies. And I cannot let him kill Dane. He should have never returned to Shrewsbury, and now he will pay the price.”
Eolande realized that her friend was not going to intervene. It was a shocking realization, which spoke of Grier’s love for her new husband.
That wasn’t what Eolande had expected.
Frantic, she watched as Dane continued to squeeze and Davies’ face turned a deep shade of purple. Another few moments, and Davies would be dead, strangled right before her very eyes. Her brother was reckless, and arrogant, and he had done some despicable things in his life, but he was still her brother. He had been the only one out of their entire family that had ever paid any attention to her. Eolande knew Davies shouldn’t have come to Shrewsbury and she’d warned him against it.
But he’d come.
And now he was dying at the hands of Grier’s husband.
Something snapped in Eolande at that moment; she couldn’t stand by and watch her brother die. Grier wouldn’t stop it, but she would. One of Davies’ men was standing next to her and she caught the flash of the dagger on his belt. Grabbing the blade, she suddenly charged out towards the fighting men, blade held high as she aimed it right for Dane’s back. It was clear what she meant to do with it.
She meant to kill.
Grier was startled by the moment, realizing with horror what Eolande was planning. As she screamed and started to run after her, one of the nervous archers on the wall let loose their arrow, and it sailed right into Eolande’s left shoulder, carving straight through her body and the tip coming out somewhere near her right hip.
She fell like a stone.
Dane, startled by the commotion going on behind him, ended Davies’ suffering by using a twisting motion on his neck, snapping it cleanly. He was finished torturing the man. With his enemy dead, he leapt up from the bod
y and turned to see Grier as she fell atop Eolande, who had a massive arrow embedded in her. Since Dane hadn’t seen Eolande as she’d run at him with the intent to kill him, he was appalled and confused by the sight. Staggering over to his wife, he fell to his knees beside her, his hand on her head.
“Grier,” he said, breathing heavily. “What happened?”
Grier was in a flood of tears as she lay over her friend. “She was going to kill you,” she wept. “She knew her brother was wrong, but he was still her brother. She did not want you to kill him, but I did not believe her capable… oh, God, I did not believe her capable of this…”
With that, she collapsed over her friend, weeping painfully. Dane looked around. He could see the dirk near Eolande’s right hand, now blade-first into the dirt where it had fallen. Behind him lay the body of Davies, his head twisted at an odd angle.
Struggling to his feet, Dane looked at Davies’ men, who were gathered in a suspicious and fearful group, surrounded by Shrewsbury men. Weary, bloodied, and beaten, he faced the Welshmen with as much dignity as he could muster.
“He killed one of my men and coveted my wife,” he said to them. “Had I not killed him, he would have killed me. I am certain most, if not all, of you were present in the raid on the marketplace, but I will not take you prisoner. Consider this my mercy. Take your lord and return home, and tell the Lords of Godor of my mercy in not punishing all of you for Davies’ actions. But know this; the Duke of Shrewsbury’s mercy is only given once. Cross me and I shall be unforgiving. As for your lord’s sister… it was unfortunate that she chose to attack me, and we are greatly saddened by her death. I will say no more.”
With that, he stepped aside as Davies’ men came forward to claim their lord, bringing the cloak he’d tossed away to wrap him up in it. Dane watched for a few moments, reconciling himself to the brutal ending of a brutal battle, but he could hear Grier weeping behind him and that was of more concern to him at the moment.