End of days

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

After the doctor revived the Slasher, the play was over. The mummers accepted the applause of their audience as well as coins from Rayford. The feasting lasted long into the afternoon, with more skits, dancing, and merriment. By the time dusk fell, many of the men were too drunk to walk home and were allowed to sleep off their overindulgence in the hall. Families with young children were the first to leave the castle grounds for the trek home. Leah Rose found she was quite fatigued by the time she accompanied Rayford upstairs.

"That was fun," Leah Rose said as she walked into their chamber before Rayford.

"Aye," Rayford agreed. "Thank you for all your hard work, organizing the feast."

"You are welcome," Leah Rose replied with a smile. "I enjoyed it." She went to her clothes chest and retrieved the basket she had decorated for Rayford. The basket was trimmed with blue and silver ribbon. Inside, lying on a bed of straw, were the five eggs that she had decorated especially for him. This was the first present she had ever given him, and she was unsure how he would react. After all, Easter eggs were not exactly manly.

"Rayford?"

"Hmm?" he muttered as he hung his cloak on a peg.

"I have made something for you." She extended the basket to him as he turned to face her. "Happy Easter."

Rayford took the basket with a bemused smile. She waited anxiously as he picked up an egg dyed green with yellow stars. Silence stretched as he carefully replaced the green egg and picked up the blue one with white stripes. He looked up at her with a delighted, boyish smile.

"These are amazing. I have never seen such beautifully decorated eggs before. They are very intricate. However did you make them?"

"First, I made a pin prick in the shell and drained out the egg so it would last longer. Then I melted some beeswax and applied it to the shell before dipping the eggs into dye. When the dye had dried I melted the wax off the egg."

" Leah Rose, thank you so much."

"I am glad you like them."

Rayford set the basket down on a table. "May I give you a thank-you kiss?"

"Aye," she whispered.

Rayford gently took her into his arms and lowered his head to kiss her. She leaned eagerly into him, sliding her hands around his waist as he kissed her. Much too soon for her, he reluctantly drew back and cleared his throat.

"I have something for you," Rayford said, releasing her.

He opened his clothes chest and pulled out a small wooden box tied with a gold ribbon and handed it to her. She could not remember the last time she had received a gift. Smiling, she untied the ribbon and took off the lid. She stilled when she saw the gold cross pendant lying inside the box. The cross was studded with jewels--brilliant

rubies, emeralds, and diamonds sparkled in the candlelight. "Oh, Rayford," she breathed, stunned. ""Tis beautiful." She looked up at his smiling face. "Thank you." "You are welcome," Rayford said. "Shall I put it on you?"

"Aye."

She turned and lifted her wimple so he could fasten the necklace around her neck The gold chain was long so the cross pendant lay between her breasts. She touched it in awe, still not able to believe he was giving her such a costly gift. "Do I get a thank-you kiss?"

"Aye."

She dropped the pendant and pivoted to face him. Putting her hands on his waist to steady herself, she raised her face to his while he lowered his head to meet her. She kissed him with all the love that filled her heart. Gradually she drew back from him and met his searching eyes. Sliding her arms around his waist, she laid her head on his shoulder as he enclosed her in his arms.

Rayford rode at the head of his men, leading them through a dense thicket of trees, all the time scanning the woods for any sign of danger. After sending the huntsmen back to the castle with the dogs and the stag they had slain, he lingered in the forest with his men, hoping to attract attention and end the waiting. Spring had filled the bare branches of the trees with fresh green leaves, but the cold rain had turned the day gray and miserable. Rayford shook his head to clear away the rain dripping from his coif into his eyes and down his neck.

He was tired of this endless waiting. It had been two months since the attack on him. If Cardel didn't make a move soon, he was considering taking the fight to him in Narhex. He sighed, chiding himself. As satisfying as that course of action would be, it was out of the question. He had no proof Cardel was behind the assassination attempt. Although Langston had been interrogated several times, he still resolutely maintained his innocence. Rayford was beginning to feel guilty for Langston's long incarceration. Leah Rose had not broached the subject of Langston since their violent confrontation at the beginning of March, but he knew she was troubled about her friend.

Thoughts of Leah Rose warmed him. He had taken Hugh's advice and been courting his wife. Whereas before, when he had been training her to accept his touch, he had only been concerned with her physical reaction, he now found himself vitally interested in all her feelings. He shared activities with her that he knew she would enjoy-riding, taking walks along the allure, playing chess. Mostly, they talked.

Mindful of his castellan's counsel that Leah Rose would be in command of the castle should he be away or if something should happen to him, he started educating her about the garrison and the castle defenses. He found her an apt and keenly interested pupil. She had an excellent understanding of tactics and strategies, no doubt honed by her own harrowing experiences.

With his mind occupied, Rayford let his vigilance slip. He rode unsuspectingly into the trap. A rope sprang up from the thick underbrush, smashing into Geneir's chest. The horse reared back, furiously pawing at the air. An arrow slammed into Rayford's calf, another into his uncovered arm. Geneir's front hooves crashed down, the violence of the movement sending Rayford tumbling to the ground.

The quiet forest suddenly reverberated with the screams of horses, the shouts of men, and the clank of steel as hordes of men in tattered garments ambushed them. Staggering to his feet, Rayford drew his sword from his scabbard. He dispatched one assailant with a sharp stab to the chest, only to have two other men rush him. He swerved, avoiding one blade, and engaged another. Slashing and hacking with his sword, Rayford heard the cry of a horn. Merclif had been notified of the attack. Belwick would immediately dispatch the castle garrison, as they had planned. They just needed to hold out until help arrived. He glanced back to see how his men were faring. Two were on the ground, dead.

Roger and Gordon were off their horses, trying to make their way toward him. Rayford retreated toward his men, parrying the attacks aimed at him, shouting orders as he went. When he reached Roger and Gordon, they stood in formation, their backs to each other. Wave after wave of the attackers assailed them. Gordon went down. Rayford and

Roger stood back to back, fighting for their lives. A blade escaped Rayford's vigilance, slicing into his neck.

Time ceased to have meaning as they battled against overwhelming odds. Rayford saw Bernard, who had been following them and who had joined the battle after sounding the alarm, take a mortal blow to the chest.

Fiercely Rayford fought. A sword cut his thigh...another, his arm. Roger fell under the brutal barrage. A sword cut into Rayford's waist, finding the opening in his mail, and sliced up through his chest. He staggered under the lethal hit and collapsed to the ground. Blow after blow assaulted him as he lost consciousness.

The thunder of hooves filled the air as Belwick raced into the thicket. The few remaining attackers were cut down as they tried to flee. Frantic, Belwick scanned the c*****e. Dead bodies were strewn on the ground, and it appeared as if no one was alive but the men who had just arrived.

"Rayford," Belwick shouted.

Anguish tore at him as he quickly dismounted, issuing orders to his men. They searched through the corpses, separating the ambushers from their own.

"Sir Hugh!" Matthew yelled. "Tis Lord Merclif."

Belwick rushed to where the young soldier knelt next to Rayford's prone body and dropped down on one knee beside his lord. Rayford's body was shrouded with so much blood it was almost impossible to see his injuries. Laying a shaking hand against the uninjured side of Rayford's neck, Belwick closed his eyes in prayer as he felt for a pulse. Hope returned when he detected the faint beating of Rayford's heart.

"He lives," the castellan announced.

Belwick's long years of experience took over as he shouted orders. After stripping the mail and outer garments from Rayford, Belwick applied a tourniquet to Rayford's thigh to stop the flow of blood, while Matthew pressed his cloak against the wound