He fell back, and Sir Geoffrey came at him hard, driving him to the wall with blow after blow. Cornered, Noel had no choice but to go on parrying desperately. He knew he could not escape unless he somehow seized the offensive from Sir Geoffrey, but it was all he could do to keep from getting himself hacked into pieces.
Sir Geoffrey got too eager. His sword tip crashed into the wall, striking off sharp splinters of stone. Noel ducked and scurried around, seeking to reach Sir Geoffrey’s back, but the knight recovered and whirled with him. He lifted his sword again just as Noel stumbled over the fallen bench and lost his balance.
In that moment time slowed to a crawl. Noel went sprawling, caught himself desperately on one knee, and struggled to bring up his sword.
“No!” cried Frederick over the frenzied barking of the dog.
Sir Olin was shouting too, but for Noel there was only the break in his wrists as his weapon was knocked aside, and Sir Geoffrey’s sword came slashing down like an executioner’s blade.
CHAPTER 12
“Eeeraaagh!”
From nowhere, a pike crashed between Noel and Sir Geoffrey with enough impetus to knock their crossed swords to the floor. Sparks flew from the scrape of steel against stone and set the rushes to smoldering.
Sir Olin twisted the heavy pike and sent both swords skidding to the far corner, then stamped out the fire. “No one sheds blood in my hall!” he shouted, his face crimson beneath his white hair. “Hell’s teeth! Do I have to run you through to prove it?”
“You disarmed me,” said Sir Geoffrey as though he could not believe what had happened. “I had engaged weapons and you disarmed me-”
He reached for his dagger, but both Noel and Frederick held him back from Sir Olin.
He struggled against them. “Let me go, you heathenish-”
“Are you witless?” bellowed Sir Olin. “Have you taken complete leave of the few senses God gave you, monsieur? What do you mean by this conduct?”
Still struggling, Sir Geoffrey ignored the old man. His eyes-dark with irrational fury-blazed into Noel’s. “Stay away from me, sorcerer. Play no games with my mind.”
“I’m not a sorcerer, damn you. Stand still,” said Noel breathlessly.
Sir Geoffrey strained for Noel’s throat, and only Frederick’s desperate grasp on his wrist held him. Little flecks of saliva flew from his lips. “Must kill you. Must make you pay for Elena-”
“What?” said Noel. He gave Sir Geoffrey a shake. “What do you mean? Explain.”
Sir Geoffrey growled something inarticulate and lunged at Noel, sending him staggering back despite Frederick’s efforts to hold him. Sir Olin waded in and seized Sir Geoffrey by the shoulder.
“I’ll kill you,” said Sir Geoffrey, his eyes only for Noel. “I have sworn it. I’ll kill you.”
The others pulled him off, and Noel frowned with growing concern. “Why?” he said. ‘Tell me! What’s happened to Elena?“
Sir Geoffrey abruptly stopped struggling and became still. His face twisted into grief too raw to witness. “Do not mock me!”
“I’m not mocking you,” said Noel. “If something has happened to Elena, I’d like to know what it is. She’s-”
“You are surely damned for what you have done,” said Sir Geoffrey in an awful voice. “If God will not let me be the instrument that smites you from this world, I pray someone else will-”
“Oh, be quiet,” said Noel, losing his temper. “For God’s sake, what am I supposed to have done to her? I give you my word, it’s a lie. I haven’t seen her since-”
“The word of a consorter with demons is nothing but putrescence!”
Noel punched him in the mouth, sending him reeling into the long table. Sir Geoffrey straightened slowly, his hand exploring his lip, which was already puffing up.
“That’s enough from you, you damned coward,” said Noel furiously. “You stinking, dirty coward. Did you have to kill women and children? Did you have to slaughter all of them like dumb cattle? With their slingshots and bows, what match were they for trained knights in armor? Were you so afraid they might fight you with courage that you had to attack them under cover of darkness-”
“What is this infamy?” said Sir Olin in astonishment. “Is this true?”
“Were you afraid to let them see you?” said Noel, while Sir Geoffrey turned crimson. “Or were you ashamed-”
“Enough!” cried Sir Geoffrey. “You goad me too far with these accusations-”
“But they are true accusations,” said Noel. He longed to choke this self-righteous hypocrite by the throat, to dig his fingers into the resistance of flesh and cartilage, to will more strength into his fingers until they crushed air and life from the knight. Memories of the dead tribespeople flooded him, bringing back his sick disgust at such waste and brutality. “I helped bury those people. A whole camp attacked in their blankets and left to rot where they died.” He swung his glare to Sir Olin, who looked shocked. “These are the caliber of men Sir Magnin has collected about him. Do you want to be allied to baby killers?”
“We killed no babes-” said Sir Geoffrey indignantly, then choked off the half admission. He dropped his gaze.
“Monsters,” whispered Sir Olin, and Frederick’s eyes were wide.
“It is not so,” said Sir Geoffrey, but without conviction. “This creature twists the truth for his own-”
“I counted the corpses,” said Noel hotly. “ They are the truth. And with every rock I stacked over every mutilated body, I gave thanks that Elena was not among them. What happened to her? Didn’t you protect her while she was at Mistra? She asked you for the courtesy. Couldn’t you do even that? Or were you so busy murdering her brothers-”
“No!” Sir Geoffrey slammed his fist upon the table. “I had no part in the attack on the Milengi. I spoke against it, but the orders were given. I could do no more.”
“You spoke against it,” said Noel in a soft, mocking voice. “Do you think that absolves you from blame?” His question drove in like a sword thrust, and Sir Geoffrey flinched. “They told me to do it, so it’s not my fault? Oh, come! That excuse has never worked. Are you really that weak-willed?”
Sir Geoffrey went white to the lips. He lifted his fists. “You think you can bend words and make them serve you just as you bend people to your will. You accuse me of this villainy, but it is you who put the spell on Elena.”
“I-”
“Yes, you! Did you not escape the dungeons by supernatural means? Your cell door lifted off its hinges, your jailers mesmerized and unaware of your escape until it was too late? You spirited away Lady Sophia with the help of your demons and turned Elena into a mindless, speechless creature of pity, lacking any will of her own.”
Noel frowned, bewildered. It sounded like shock trauma, and if Elena had seen the massacre of her family that might have put her into such a condition.
Before he could speak, however, Sir Olin lowered his pike to a ready position. “We serve God in this house,” he said sharply. “All my household hears mass daily. There will be no witchcraft under my roof.”
“Then drive him out swiftly,” said Sir Geoffrey, pointing his finger. “Let him not put his curse on you.”
“Nonsense!” said Noel. “I don’t practice witchcraft, you idiot. The bolts and hinges were falling apart with rust. As for Lady Sophia, she showed me a secret passageway from Mistra-a passageway, I might add, that Sir Magnin would pay dearly to find since it also leads to a fabulous treasury.”
Both Sir Olin’s and Frederick’s eyes grew large. “Lord Gerrard’s treasury?” said Sir Olin.
If he’d been a dog his tongue would have lolled out. Even Frederick’s eyes were gleaming. Noel remembered Theodore’s comment that Sir Olin was not a wealthy man.