"I can wait no longer." The sound of steel hissed through the night. Moonlight glinted on the silver blade of a dagger. Kathryn paled when the earl stepped forward. A mocking smile curled his lips when she instinctively stepped backward. He beckoned quickly with the hand that held the dagger and Roderick was led forward once more.

He paused before Roderick. "What say you, Hugh?" he asked of another knight who had joined them. "Shall this brave knight be the first to shed his blood this night?"

Kathryn went white with dread. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the earl's long-fingered hands, absently sliding up and down the length of the dagger.

With a lightning movement he pressed the dagger to Roderick's throat.

The earl's eyes never left the other man's face as he said, " 'Tis up to you, milady, whether your lover lives or dies."

Kathryn's heart leaped to her throat. For the first time, she knew fear as Elizabeth must have known it, watching their mother slowly die.

She cried out sharply. "No! No, please do not!"

Roderick's face was a mask of stone. "Do not listen to him, Kathryn! Would you forfeit the lives of those within the keep?"

The earl's lips twisted. "Noble words for a man about to breathe his last." His eyes flickered to Kathryn. "I say again, lady, I have no more wish for bloodshed than you. I seek no war. I want only your uncle."

Kathryn's hands were shaking. How was she to choose? How could she live with the stain of another's blood upon her hands?

The moon slid out from behind a cloud. The knife pressed harder against Roderick's throat. Dear God! The tip of the blade was crimson with blood.

"It is your choice," the earl repeated.

She jerked when a hand touched her arm. Startled, she looked up at the knight the earl had called Hugh. She was stunned to discover compassion on his face.

"Milady," he said softly, "my lord is a man of his word. 'Tis not his way that others die needlessly."

Kathryn closed her eyes. She had faith in no man's honor. . . in no man. Yet she had no choice, no choice at all.

"Then let him give it," she whispered. "Let him give his sacred vow that there will be no murder at Ashbury."

"Kathryn, no! Do not trust him!"

She opened her eyes and gazed at Roderick. "My sister saw our mother die." She swallowed against the burning threat of tears. "I'll not stand by and watch her die—or you, Roderick."

The earl spoke. "I give my word then."

Her eyes blazed fiercely, yet her voice caught painfully. "Your vow, my lord. I would have your sacred vow!"

Guy's jaw tightened. No meek and biddable woman was this! She should have been born a man!

Kathryn sought his eyes. They were hard and completely unreadable. The silence was deathly.

It seemed an eternity passed before he spoke. "By all that is holy, there will be no murder here. As for your uncle, he will have a fighting chance." His voice was harsh. "I promise no more than that."

For an instant Kathryn went weak with relief. Elizabeth and Roderick would be spared. She watched Roderick being led away once more, then straightened her shoulders proudly. "Supplies are taken in through the postern on the far side of the keep. We can enter there."



Hours later, storm clouds gathered dark and forbidding in the night sky. Thunder raged across the earth. The wind was chill and biting, howling eerily as it lashed the ramparts. Deep inside the keep, those within lay deep in slumber.

Kathryn sagged against the damp stone wall, awaiting the earl's next move. There was a cold tight knot in the pit of her stomach. Weary and bitter, she decided that Lord Guy de Marche had the luck of the devil to whom she had unwittingly compared him. Only a moment ago he had received a signal, a signal that the guards on the parapet had been subdued. And now the storm would muffle any sound his troops would make inside the keep. He had already sent his friend Hugh to sneak through the bailey and open the gates for his men.

His eyes found hers through the inky darkness. She stiffened when his arm stretched out and brought her back against him. He bent his head low, so that his lips touched her ear. "Which way to your uncle's chamber?" he whispered.

Kathryn wanted nothing more than to whirl and claw his arrogant face. Oh, if only she dared! Despising her weakness, she nodded toward the stairway at the other end of the great hall. He nudged her forward.

Her slippers made no sound as she led the way, the earl's arm tight about her waist. A small group of men trailed behind them. They were well trained, she noted scathingly. Indeed, they might have been fairies of old, for they made no sound, weaving quietly and stealthily behind their leader.

At the top of the stairs, she paused. Her mind raced in tempo with her heart. What if she were to lead them to the floor above, where Richard's knights lay deep in sleep?

But alas, he had felt the sudden tension in her body. His hated breath fell upon her cheek. "Do not think to deceive me, milady. I could crush the breath from you in an instant." His arm tightened as if to make good his threat.

But he had come too far to risk making his presence known, and Kathryn knew it. She met his gaze fearlessly. Their eyes clashed wordlessly. Realizing the futility of her plan and the helplessness of her position, Kathryn tightened her lips and gave a jerky nod. "Uncle's chamber is at the far end of this floor."

She was taut as a bowstring by the time they arrived outside her uncle's door. The earl's presence beside her was unnerving. She hated the touch of his hand on her body; she suspected he knew it as well. He held her as if he feared she would bolt any moment, yet she was surrounded by his men. Where could she run that he could not find her?

"He is within?" Again he spoke for her ears alone.

Kathryn nodded. She tried to pull back but he wouldn't let her. His eyes gleamed. "Oh, no, lady. If you betray me now, I would know it." With that he flung open the door of the chamber and pushed her inside.

The knight he called Hugh stepped in as well, carrying a rushlight. The room was illuminated. Kathryn held her breath, unsure of what to expect.

"Damnation!" thundered a booming voice. "Who dares disturb me at this hour!" A meaty hand reached to thrust aside the bed curtains but another was too quick.

"You are Richard of Ashbury?"

Richard, red-faced with fury, fell back against the pillows. His eyes widened at the sight of the earl, towering threateningly above the bed. Beside him, another figure stirred. Helga sat up, rubbing her eyes and blinking sleepily.

The earl spoke but three words to her. "You, girl. Out." Helga took one look at the earl, grabbed her clothes, and fled. Another time, perhaps, and Kathryn might have been amused. She doubted Helga had even noticed her standing near the wall.

The door creaked shut behind her. The knight called Hugh walked over and slid the bolt. The air was suddenly pulsing with tension.

"I ask once more." Guy's voice was deceptively mild. 'You are Richard?"

Richard's mouth opened then closed. He hadn't missed the murderous rage in the other man's eyes. His nod was jerky.

Guy stared down at the man he'd sworn would be his. His smile was savage.

"Who are you?" Richard gasped. "I have done you no harm, sir knight. Yet you invade my home. My very chamber!"

Guy's handsome features froze. "I am Guy de Marche, Earl of Sedgewick."

Richard blanched. His gaze darted to the corner. His sword lay propped against the wall, along with his dagger and other trappings of war.

The earl's hand fell to his own sword, still in its scabbard at his side. He caressed the handle with deliberate intent. "You would do us both a favor to go for your weapon," he said softly. "I've a mind to end this quickly."