“If you go above ground”—Reinhart met their gazes—“you could all be killed. Geitbart’s guards outnumber us, and we do not know what has become of the rest of our guards.”
“Then we shall die defending our lord and his castle.” Sir Klas raised his fist.
The men rushed toward the stairs, and Avelina appeared to be going with them. He caught her arm and pulled her back.
“I can help.” She gave him a defiant stare.
Reinhart stared at her, trying to think how he might keep her safe.
“We shall dedicate this battle to the woman who freed us.” Sir Klas turned from halfway up the stairs. “She is the bravest of us all.”
“Ja!” the other soldiers shouted. “She is our lioness! We shall fight for her!”
They all shouted their war cries as they scaled the stairs. None of them had weapons. Reinhart kept hold of Avelina’s arm as they made their way up behind them. “I want you to stay here,” he said quietly. “Stay out of the way of the fighting.”
“Are you going to go fight?”
“Of course. I am a trained knight, and I am the margrave.”
“Then I will fight too.”
“But I very well may die. We all may die.”
“If you die fighting, I want to die fighting with you.” Her eyes were so beautiful, shining up at him.
He knew her well enough to know he could not stop her. “Then stay behind me until I find you a weapon.” He would watch out for her and protect her, as would the rest of his men.
She smiled, so beguiling it made his heart stutter. He started up the stairs behind his men.
Avelina let Lord Thornbeck clasp her hand as he led her up the stairs. Truly, she was prepared to die for this man. All these men were prepared to die. Lord God, if I must die, take care of my precious brother and sister and my father.
Her knees trembled a bit, but Lord Thornbeck glanced back at her, concern in his eyes, then faced forward again. She could do this. She could fight for him, and die, if she must.
They emerged to a sudden cessation of shouting. All around, dozens of Geitbart’s men were kneeling and bowing toward a mounted figure. Lord Thornbeck’s men started dropping to their knees as well.
Lord Thornbeck whispered, “It’s the king.”
Avelina fell into a deep curtsy while Lord Thornbeck knelt and bowed his head.
All was silent. Avelina peeked up to see many horsemen behind the king. King Karl wore a tunic of hardened leather tiles, and sleeves and leggings of mail were visible underneath it. Something about the way he sat, so straight and tall, made him seem regal, even though he was actually wearing a mail hood instead of a crown.
As his gaze swung her way, she quickly averted her eyes to the ground.
The king said in a booming voice, “I require an audience with the Margrave of Thornbeck and the Duke of Geitbart. Is either of those men here?”
“Your Majesty, I am the Margrave of Thornbeck.”
“Very good. When I have quartered my horse in your stable, I shall join you in your Great Hall.”
Lord Thornbeck bowed his acquiescence. The king gave him a sharp, narrowed glance—perhaps wondering about his disheveled appearance—before gesturing with his hand. “You may all rise and go.”
Lord Thornbeck turned to Sir Klas. “Take Avelina to her room.”
He did not look back at her but walked slowly, limping slightly, toward the castle.
Sir Klas gestured for her to precede him, and they walked toward the castle.
In her room Avelina quickly changed her clothes and cleaned herself up. But what was happening with Lord Thornbeck?
A knock came at her door and a wide-eyed maidservant opened it. “His Majesty the king wishes to see you.”
Avelina stood, her heart pounding, and followed the servant down to the Great Hall. Several of the king’s guards stood surrounding the king, who sat on the raised dais in Lord Thornbeck’s large chair. Lord Thornbeck stood in front of the king several feet away. Thornbeck’s guards, many who had been locked in the dungeon, stood just behind their lord.
Lord Thornbeck’s face was stoic. Was he angry or pleased? She could not tell. But his expression changed when he saw her, and his throat moved as he swallowed.
A few feet from Lord Thornbeck, also facing the king, was the Duke of Geitbart. His jaw was rigid, and his black gaze darted from the king to her and back again.
Avelina fell into a deep curtsy before the king.
“Please rise,” the king said.
She did so and stood facing King Karl the Fourth, King of Bohemia, King of Italy, King of Germany, King of the Romans, and Holy Roman Emperor.