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again. They'd had this argument before, and shouting only made things worse. 'Emma, after what happened we can never return to Forest Castle. They'd hang both of us.' 'I only wanted to help,' said Emma. 'It just got out of hand.' Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html All the long years of bottled-up anger suddenly came together in Gawaine, and he finally asked the question he'd promised himself he'd never ask again. 'Why did you kill him, Emma? Why did you have to kill him?' 'He was your rival, Gawaine. He stood in your way. If you were ever to get on at Court, he had to die.' 'But suspicion was bound to fall on ... us. And I never gave a damn for his position, or getting on. I was happy as I was.' 'You never were ambitious enough, Gawaine. So I had to be ambitious enough for both of us. Looking back, yes, it was a mistake to kill him. But it was such a clever plan, and it would have worked if we hadn't been betrayed.' Her hand drifted across under the bedclothes and fastened on to his. Their fingers intertwined. 'And you took the blame for me, Gawaine. I've never forgotten that. You gave up your position and your honour to save me. What other woman was ever loved more than I?' 'What else could I do?' said Gawaine, and if there was the faintest tinge of weariness in his voice, Emma didn't hear it. Gawaine gave her hand a comforting squeeze. 'Go to sleep, love.' She snuggled up against him, her hand resting on his shoulder, and her slow breathing gradually deepened as sleep took her. Gawaine lay still, staring into the darkness. King John had trusted him, knighted him, loved him as a son. He had been honoured and content as a knight of the Forest Kingdom. And then everything had gone wrong, and in the space of a few months he'd had to give up everything he'd ever cared for, to save his wife. Perhaps the saddest truth of all was that deep down where it mattered, he was no longer sure he loved his wife. He kept it from her, as best he could. If only because he felt guilty for not loving her as much as she loved him. I did it for you, Gawaine. I know, Emma. I know. Jordan woke slowly and reluctantly from his slumber, but the persistent voice and the tugging at his arm wouldn't let him rest. He sat up on the bed and looked blearily about him. The candles were still burning in their holders, but were little more than stubs. He'd had barely three or four hours' sleep, and it felt like a hell of a lot less. His head was muzzy, and his mouth tasted as though something had died in it. He yawned and stretched and scratched at his ribs. He hated sleeping in his clothes. 'All right,' he said roughly, 'I'm awake. What's the emerg-ency?' He glared around to see who'd disturbed his rest, and then snapped wide awake as he found himself face to face with the ghost child, Wee Geordie. The young boy's face was screwed up with fear and worry, and he was tugging urgently at Jordan's right arm with both hands. Jordan's first thought was that he ought to be frightened at being woken in the early hours of the morning by a ghost, but the open dismay on the boy's face wouldn't let him be scared. Geordie was already frightened enough for both of them. 'What is it, Geordie?' he said more gently. 'What are you doing back here?' 'You've got to help her! She's going to die if someone doesn't help her!' 'Who is? Who's going to die? Slow down, lad; I'll help you, I promise. Now, who is going to die?' 'Kate Taggert, the Steward lady.' Geordie's voice choked up for a moment as though he was going to burst into tears, but he got control of himself again and carried on. 'She went into the West Wing with Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html Damon Cord and Mother Donna, and it's awful in there. The Unreal's broken loose. It's out of control, and they're all going to die if you don't do something!' Jordan swung down off the bed, buckled his swordbelt about him, and headed for the bedroom door. He wasn't sure what Geordie was on about, but he knew genuine terror when he saw it. He'd been very impressed by the Steward's style in the Great Hall earlier on, and if she was in trouble he wanted to help. He strode quickly through the suite and pulled open the main door. He was glad to see both the guards were back on duty. He had a use for them. 'I want Count Roderik and Sir Gawaine, as fast as you can get them here. Now move it!' The two guards looked at each other, and the one on the left cleared his throat. 'With respect, your highness, I really don't think the Count would take kindly to being disturbed at this hour. And we were given strict orders not to leave you unattended, for any reason.' Jordan stepped forward, thrust his scowling face at the guard's, and gave him his best intimidating glare. 'Get moving right now, soldier, or so help me I'll deep-fry you on the spot.' He raised one hand in a [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |
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