| |
SOPHIE DARTED UP the tunnel, changed, and sped into her office. She ducked into the armoury. Michela’s sword and John’s were both gone. She grabbed her broadsword and a shield and hurried into the hallway.
Raquel was at the marble stairs. “Sophie!”
“Where? Where is Morgan?” Sophie went to her. She looked unharmed. Shaking but unharmed.
Crack.
Gunfire?
“He has her in Michela’s hall.” Raquel grabbed her face.
“Who?” Sophie stooped to catch her eyes. “Who?”
“Henry,” Raquel whispered. “Henry has her.”
Sophie roared. She should have known. “You get to safety. No argument.” She gripped her sword and prowled down the hallway. “If he wins, Katherine is outside with Edwina.”
“Katherine?” Raquel bounced on each toe. “Your grandmother?”
“No, my daughter.” Sophie nodded and headed towards the noise of battle. Fury rocketed through her until she growled and she charged into the hall. Henry was over Morgan, her metal hand up to protect herself as she lay prone, shield cracked at her feet.
“Unhand her!” She darted in front of Morgan. Lunged. Drove her sword up and out.
Clang.
Caught the blade inches from Morgan’s head.
“Ah, dear sister,” Henry grunted as she shoved the interlocked blades up. He stumbled back, shorter, skinnier. “How nice of you to grace us with your insolence.”
Sophie felt Morgan scramble to her feet and pick up her sword. “Morgan, go to Raquel.”
Morgan shook her head. “I can’t.”
Henry lunged.
Sophie parried.
Clang.
“Morgan, leave us.” Sophie softened her tone but fury fuelled every movement. She was sick of him. Sick of his venom.
“She doesn’t take orders well, does she?” Henry spat, rolled. Swung the sword at Morgan who jumped backward.
Clang.
It carved a chunk out of the floor.
“Please,” Sophie hissed and fixed on Morgan. “I need you safe.”
“You can find another head of security,” Morgan yelled, dodging another swipe.
Clang.
“Yes, but not one I adore as much as you.” Sophie slammed her blade into Henry’s as he lunged for Morgan once more.
Henry smiled. Dropped his shield and went for his belt.
She threw her shield at his arm.
Crunch.
Henry yelped. Dropped the knife.
Morgan grabbed Sophie’s waistband and yanked her from the room and slammed shut the door. “I like you in one piece. He can stay in there.”
Sophie shoved her back. “It’s wood.”
Crunch.
The blade sliced through the door and wedged.
Morgan pulled her again. “Just keep moving then. Make him work.”
Sophie obliged as Henry ripped the door open and charged.
Clang.
Clash.
Clang.
She fended him off as he came at her in a flurry.
Clang.
Clang.
Clash.
Henry swiped.
Clang.
She batted off his attack and pulled a shield from the nearest suit of armour.
Clang.
Clash.
Crack.
Shield split.
They were next to the stairs.
Swipe. He charged at Morgan.
Sophie slammed the blade to the floor as Morgan hurried into the library. Henry sneered after her and shoved himself upright, sword to his side.
“So, dear brother, what brings you to my estate?” She twirled the sword in the way she had then, back there in the forest, when she’d stopped running and started to fight back.
“It’s mine. You have what is mine.” His crown, hair receding like their father had suffered, glistened with sweat. He swiped his sword.
“Actually, you are a bastard as our dear aunt would say.” She smiled at him, seeing Morgan groan out the corner of her eye. “You can’t inherit anything.”
“Liar!” He lunged at her. “You ran like a coward.”
She parried.
Clang.
She threw him into the stone bannister and yanked another shield from the nearest armour.
“I merely retreated strategically.” She leaned onto the hilt of her sword as Henry gripped his bleeding face, nose gushing. “And, like any true De Breton, I had duty to honour.”
Henry laughed. “Duty?” He spat blood onto the marble. “What duty?”
“To serve this estate and its people.” She raised an eyebrow. “Did we forget that part of grandfather’s stories?”
“Stories? He never told me any stories.” Henry stabbed.
Clang.
She blocked it away. “Well, you aren’t a true De Breton so I am unsurprised.” She smiled, waiting for his anger, for the same vile temper that had scared her as a child and forced her to run and hide.
“I can prove I am.” He swiped the sword again.
Clang.
“And how do you intend to do this?” She yawned as he staggered. “Henry, your fitness is sorely lacking.”
“By winning.” He laughed in her face. “The police have everything they need to find you guilty.” He spat more blood on the floor. “Especially when I’ve beaten you.” He pulled a second blade from his shirt. Threw it.
She shoved up her shield.
Clang.
He brought his sword over. She shoved the shield up.
Crack.
It split in two. She threw the shield. Shoved up her sword.
Clang.
Henry glared into her eyes, his weight on the sword.
She glared right back, rammed the sword up. Henry’s sword spilled to the floor with a clatter and she gripped him by the scruff, swept his legs from under him, and held the shimmering tip of her sword under his chin.
He laughed. “You fell for it.”
He spat blood on the floor as Wood burst in with Edwina through the main entrance.
Sophie sneered into his face as Raquel and Morgan came out of the library.
Morgan nodded to Wood and held up her radio. “You got that?”
“Aye.” Wood held up her hands with a satisfied nod. “If you’ll let him go, Lady Haye, we have plenty of questions for Henry.”
Sophie smiled into Henry’s shocked face. “I win.”