Keller whirled in the direction of the great hall. It seemed to come from there. He broke into a sprint, closing the distance to the great hall in a matter of seconds. The Ashby-Kidd twins were on his heels, all of them barreling into the great hall. George and Aimery were moving so fast that Aimery actually tripped over George and crashed to his knees. What they saw immediately upon entering the dark and smelly chamber shocked them all to the bone.
Keller was throwing himself at Gryffyn before he even realized he was moving.
Chapter Nine
The blow to the jaw sent Gryffyn reeling.
Sprawled on the rough oak planks of the great hall, Gryffyn shook the stars from his eyes and looked up to see the big English knight moving in for another blow.
Keller had fists the size of a man’s head, but Gryffyn was fast. He managed to roll out of the way and leap to his feet although his balance was off and he ended up bashing into the corner of the hearth. But Keller was coming in for another blow and Gryffyn threw himself to his left, away from his sister’s enraged husband. He knew, by the look in the man’s eye, that he meant to kill him.
Gryffyn tried to lash out a fist at Keller, but the knight was just too fast and too strong. Keller grabbed Gryffyn’s fist, twisted, and ended up snapping his wrist. Gryffyn fell to his knees, screaming in pain as Keller stood over him in a huffing and furious stance. His dusky eyes were smoldering with fury.
“So you have been hiding here all along, waiting for the proper moment to strike,” Keller hissed. “You are a coward of a man, d’Einen – a wretched and vile coward. Now that I finally have you, I intend to do what should have been done long ago.”
Holding his wrist, Gryffyn glared at Keller with eyes as dark as obsidian. “If I am a coward, then you are a fool,” he growled. “You cannot stop me. Nether and everything in it belongs to me, including my sister!”
It was the wrong thing to say. Keller reached out and used his fist to hammer on Gryffyn’s broken wrist, sending the man into howls of pain. But Keller was immune to it. His focus was both deadly and intense as he watched Gryffyn squirm.
“She is my wife now and I swear, by all that is holy, that you shall never lay another hand on her again,” Keller rumbled. “I knew someone was beating her but she would not directly tell me who it was. For all of the pain and humiliation you have cast upon her, she still protected you. God knows why, but she did. How long was this going on before I came, d’Einen? How long have you been beating on helpless women to make you feel more like a man?”
Cradling his wrist against his chest, Gryffyn was in a world of hurt. “You bastard,” he grunted. “You come to my castle in all of your haughty, conquering glory and marry my sister because my weak and foolish father made a pact with the Devil.”
Keller’s eyes blazed. “William Marshal has nothing to do with you taking your fists to your sister.”
“You only married her to gain a castle. Do not act as if she means something to you!”
“It does not matter if she means something to me,” Keller was struggling not to wrap his hands around the man’s neck, although he knew, eventually, that it would come to that. It was just a feeling he had. “She is my wife and I will protect her. I will tell you this now, Gryffyn d’Einen, so there is no misunderstanding. If you so much as look at her in a hostile manner again, I will run you through. Make no mistake. If you touch her again, I will kill you.”
Gryffyn wasn’t used to being questioned or disciplined. He had always done as he pleased. Deep down, he was a spoiled little boy with a spoiled little mind. With a growl, he propelled himself off the floor and charged Keller with all of his furious might. Keller easily reached out a massive fist and caught Gryffyn on the side of the head, knocking the man silly. Gryffyn fell on his bad wrist, collapsed in a heap, and began to bellow.
Keller gazed at the man, not at all sorry for the pain and suffering he was feeling. Had Keller possessed any less self-control, the man would be wallowing in a pool of his own blood. He deserved all of the justified agony and more. In fact, Keller was purposely making the man suffer. He wanted him to feel the pain he had inflicted upon Chrystobel, and upon his family, for untold years. He wanted Gryffyn to feel the humiliation and hurt. As Gryffyn writhed in agony, Keller turned to his wife.
Chrystobel had managed to crawl over to the hearth and now sat propped up against the wall, her dark eyes wide with shock. Keller’s appearance at the most opportune time had been startling enough, but watching her husband pound her brother was a vision of violence and retribution that she never thought she would live to see. Gryffyn was finally subdued and Keller was the reason, protecting her as he had sworn to do. He was a man of his word, English or no. The realization was almost more than she could bear and she gazed at the man, seeing him through entirely new eyes.
This wasn’t the same knight she had met the day before, the man who had shown little to no warmth. That Keller de Poyer was an efficient, humorless man who, she was sure, had viewed her just as he viewed Nether Castle; as an acquisition. The big knight with the wide shoulders and enormous hands hadn’t treated her with anything more than polite respect until this moment in time. Having seen Gryffyn preparing to pounce on her was all Keller needed to unleash his fury against the man, as if Chrystobel meant something to him. As if he was protecting something dear. It had been a truly awesome sight to behold and she was still quite stunned by it all.
As his brother-in-law moaned on the floor several feet away, Keller had eyes only for Chrystobel. She was such a lovely creature. He’d known that from the moment he had first laid eyes on her. But the pain in his heart from a love lost had prevented him from seeing beyond his fear. Fear of feeling, fear of opening himself up again. Chrystobel was a beautiful angel he had never expected to know and now, he could feel himself relenting. He could feel himself warming, perhaps willing to open himself up again. The very moment he had saved her life was the moment he started to let himself feel something.
He crouched down beside her as she sat against the wall, his rugged face, worn by the years and the weather, creased with concern.
“Are you badly injured?” he asked softly.
The buzzing in Chrystobel’s head had eased considerably. “Nay,” she said softly, gazing into his eyes and feeling hope and relief in her chest such as she had never before experienced. “I am well enough.”
Keller’s gaze drifted over her head, her face, as if he didn’t believe her. “Are you certain?” he asked quietly. “I can send for a physic.”
Chrystobel smiled faintly, reaching out to put a hand on his arm in a reassuring gesture. “That is not necessary,” she said, sighing quietly. “I will admit that my head does ache a bit, but food and rest will cure me, I am sure.”