The Silent Songbird (Hagenheim #7)(77)

“Then why are your guards still holding their swords?”

“My men have been instructed to do whatever it takes to ensure that your ward stays in this chapel until the priest has finished speaking the vows,” Lord Shiveley said from behind clenched teeth.

“You are prepared to defy your king, then? For I forbid your marriage to Evangeline.”

Her breath caught in her throat, and she wanted to laugh in Shiveley’s face. If the king intervened, she would not have to hurt this guard, for she was already planning how to inflict pain on him to get away.

She glanced over her shoulder. The guard was wearing a hood and she couldn’t see his face.

“Why do you forbid it?” Lord Shiveley leaned forward menacingly.

“I do not wish it. I am the king. I do not need a reason.”

“And I say, she will be mine—and so shall the throne! Men, seize the king.” But before he could finish his command, shouts rang out behind them, near the entrance to the chapel.

The guard who was holding her suddenly grabbed her by the waist, threw her over his shoulder, and ran for the door.





Chapter Twenty-Nine


Evangeline screamed. Men, including Lord le Wyse and guards wearing the colors of King Richard, surged into the room and fought with Lord Shiveley’s guards. But the one holding her passed right through the middle of them and out the doorway and into the corridor.

She screamed over and over, beating at his back with her fists. He set her feet on the floor and pulled off his hood.

“Westley!” Her heart nearly leapt out of her chest. She threw her arms around him as a sob escaped her throat. “You’re alive. Thank You, God.”

“I have to go help.” He kissed her forehead and then drew his sword. He plunged back into the chapel and into the fight.

Evangeline followed and watched as he leapt into the fray. He attacked one of Shiveley’s guards and immediately divested him of his sword, but the fight ended soon after. Shiveley’s men surrendered. Richard held his sword point to Shiveley’s throat. Lord le Wyse was standing over a man lying on the floor, as the king’s men had subdued several others.

Westley stepped toward her and put his arm protectively around her waist.

The king relinquished his prisoner to one of his guards. “Take these traitors down to the dungeon and lock them up.”

Westley pulled her out of the way, still holding her, until everyone had departed from the chapel except Lord le Wyse, the king, Westley, and Evangeline. Even the priest had disappeared around the chancel. They all seemed to be waiting for the king to speak.

“Lord le Wyse, I presume.” He nodded at the older man.

“Your Majesty.” Lord le Wyse bowed to the king.

“That was fine sword fighting.”

“My son Westley taught me everything I know.”

Westley responded with a slight smile, standing very straight.

“The truth is, I owe you three my life.” The look on the king’s face was quite somber. “I shall make certain that Shiveley and his men are no longer a threat, but I wish to speak with the three of you later in the Great Hall.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Westley and his father bowed and Evangeline curtsied as the king left the room.

Westley tightened his arm around her waist, as if afraid she might try to get away, and asked his father, “Are you well?”

Westley pointed to a thin line of blood on Lord le Wyse’s chin. His father touched his chin with the back of his hand. “Only a scratch. But be sure and tell your mother and brothers and sisters that the king complimented me on my sword-fighting skills.”

“I shall.” Westley grinned, showing all his teeth.

“I’ll go wash this off.” Lord le Wyse gave a smile and nod to Evangeline and left the chapel.

Westley gazed down at her, now that they were alone. “Are you all right? I wish I could have gotten here sooner.” His tone was hushed, and his thumb gently stroked beside the cut on her lip.

Her heart filled and overflowed into her eyes. She pressed her face against his chest.

“Wait. I don’t know how clean this thing is.” Westley pulled away and stripped off the surcoat that bore Shiveley’s colors. He threw it on the floor and then pulled her to him. She didn’t even mind that the clothes underneath were still damp from his swim in the moat.

They walked over to a bench against the wall near the chapel entrance and sat down, their arms around each other. She touched his hair.

“Still wet.”

“I don’t suppose I smell very good after being in the stinky moat.”

“I don’t care what you smell like. I was so afraid you’d drowned.” She held him tight, pressing her cheek to his shoulder.

“Nah. I’ve been swimming since I was a wee child.”

She suddenly wished she could have seen him swimming through the moat. “But what happened after that?”

He explained to her how he sneaked in and hid in King Richard’s bedchamber and everything that ensued.

“Thank you for saving me.”

He squeezed her tighter to his side and kissed her head. “Not still angry with me, then?”

“No. You were right. I should have stayed in Glynval since I turned out to be useless to you.”

“That’s not true. If you hadn’t been here, we probably could not have proven to the king that Shiveley was a traitor.”