Chapter thirty
The silence was indeed necessary to the lads. Slowly, their gazes travelled along the corpses before them. It was almost difficult to get their feet through the river of bodies.
"That little whore," Earl gasped under his breath while his hands gripped Jason to his side to support his steps.
Lancaster soldiers lay dead with their bodies battered. The number was well over significant, and looking at them would prove the Scottish was in a disgusting mood.
Unavoidably, The Duke looked out through  a window deep in an aclove at the left of the hallway. It seemed the party was over. Well that wasn't the part that disturbed him.
A little more than twenty soldiers were making their way across one of the battlements leading to the tower they were in. And they surely had a different imprint on their armours from that of the Lancaster corpses that lay before them. A little more scrutiny made him realise they were guard of this very empire.
A gasp escaped his lips at that moment with a strong grip on the window pane.
"The women must have reached the party and spread the news," he heard Jason rasp just before he released a soft groan at the biting pain from his wound.
Now, with sudden speed, Philip Forland raced on forward while shouting orders to the rest, "No matter what you do, do not let those soldiers get into the tower! Wait for Monica and I by the gate!"
They watched him disappear round the corridor with hopeful gasps. He had better be alright.
***
Nichols had a hand in the air for some reason, with his men scurrying behind him. With a tilt of his head, he studied the damsel.
The lady had her veil tight around the neck of one his soldiers, pulling with strength he figured not every woman had. What angered him was not the point his man was dying; but that the lady sent him a teasing smile while she did it…with just one hand!!
When the victim had struggled to lose freely to no avail, he stopped and felt his nerves tighten.
And with an even wider smile, Monica let go of the veil and the soldier fell limply to her feet…lifelessly.
Now, she arched her waist and rolled her tongue, giving the secretary the most inviting pose she had ever given any man.
He eyed her up and down, undoubtedly beautiful, but adamant not to fall for any of her seductions when his duchy needed him most.
Finally, he lowered his hand.
Simultaneously, his men strode past him on both sides, heeding to his silent order to attack.
Monica had her swords in her hands already, watching the men pounce towards her. Her eyes wandered across them, studying like a predator should, fast and accurate. Who would she strike first…?
And then it happened.
She bent below a blade brought to her with her sword already in perfect position. While her attacker soared past, he felt the blade pinge deep into and through his waist.
While the Scottish retrieved her weapon, she had the other one swinging towards a second man, her body now coming fully straight from it's previous crouch.
Her second sword won her a prize of a cut arm.
Now she panted hungrily as she studied the bloody blades, raising them for more blood.
The swarm the soldiers came in did  not seem to scare her. Instead, she increased speed, swinging, bending and slicing as fast as time.
Even with her mind deeply engrossed in the fight, the corner of her eye sighted Mathayus appear from behind his brother, raising a barrel gun to aim at her.
Her next action came with shocking suddenness.
She seized one of the men around her and forced his body before hers as a shield.
The bullets the Duke of Lancaster released did nothing less than batter the soldier's body. It was foolish how determined he was to kill her. So determined he didn't stop shooting even when his man was being torn to a carcass. He still strangely believed he'll manage a shot at the lady.
And when he ran out of them, his faced had the strongest lines of anger.
Monica pulled her usual smile on and tossed her human shield aside. "You pig," she made sure to spit her words, "which are you afraid of. Me or my body?" Then the roll of her tongue…
Her near seduction was cut short by a hand around her neck in one hard, murderous grip, making her remember she still had soldiers around her. Earl's pistols finally became useful then.
Taking it out, the Scottish raised it to her predator's head and pulled the trigger.
When that was taken care of, the rest of the men were just a handful. And from what they'd just experienced, they seemed reluctant to attack.
That put a small smile on the lady's lips as she staggered through the gasping soldiers. To her,they held no threats any longer. "It seems your men are afraid of me…" she stated to the Duke of Lancaster.
The latter had managed to refill his gun, noticing just then his hands shivered while he stuck the bullets in. And the lady was not helping but coming even closer.
Monica Maitland had the wounded, helpless Nicholas at arm's length now…literally. She turned to glance at him before wrapping her arm around his neck and pulling him close to her. The gun in her hand lifted up to touch his temple lightly.
"Drop your weapon or I shoot," she threatened the Duke.
Mathayus was hesitant, his eyes travelling from her to his brother, then her again. For all he knew, he tried his best to shield his fear. However, he was well aware it was entirely obvious to the lady from the way she smiled at him.
For a split of a second, Monica's attention was stolen by something behind him.
Philip Forland strode through an open doorway and approached slowly, with a glare just to give his fellow Duke a larger dose of the fear.
The Scottish lass had a larger problem though. At a crucial moment like this one, she suddenly had that familiar feeling she must steal that man from her cousin. There was nothing she was more sure of than the notion Elizabeth that did not deserve to be the one to ruin his innocence.
At that point, she felt afraid for some reason; that maybe some day, this captivating effect he had on her would prove to be turmoil.
Back to better things, Mathayus realised at that instant he was at a great disadvantage.
"Do you mind saving this one for me darling," Philip teased Monica with a smile and that thing he did with his brown hair that gave her butterflies.
Helplessly, she nodded readily as though lost in that trance he always created. Which she was. Her grasp on Nichols's hair intensified on its own when she had the dirtiest images running through her mind now.
Mathayus grimaced after that offer on who was to take his life was made, "You cannot return Kilmarnock to Scotland." The man tried forcing plea into his gaze and a little hyperactivity as he glanced from lad to lass.
But contrary to what he thought he'd achieve, Philip laughed erratically. "And who's going to stop me?" He tilted his head while he asked, "You, the man scared off by a little flame. Or maybe your men, the ones afraid of a beautiful woman. It seems you all have a problem with fiery objects."
Monica grinned with a bow, acknowledging the hidden compliment. Pleased enough, she yanked the secretary away from her clutch and stood sternly. Now with her and Philip anchored on either end, both men were trapped.
"Do you think we should kill them your Grace," Monica asked in a tone that sounded official with her gaze on her treasure.
Mathayus suddenly remembered he had a barrel gun. Quickly,he aimed at both of them alternately, "I am still armed if you're not aware."
Philip just smiled and studied him.
Not long after, it sounded like they had company. Close by somewhere, they all heard chants that made him realise Earl and the others were not so lucky in stopping the St Ives soldiers from getting into the tower.
And from the sounds of it, the latter were fast approaching where they stood.
He frowned, thinking for a while before he came to a conclusion. Before those men reached them, no matter how, he had to escape with Monica.
The Duke of Lancaster had lowered his gun and was listening as well. Amidst the rustling and bustling noises, there was a barking voice coming through that was oddly familiar. And sure did that voice sound angry.
"How dare pesky bulldogs come to spoil my party?" Now they knew who had it; Edward Vizal, Duke of St Ives, with a temper as hot as hell.
Philip and Monica exchanged glances fearfully, while Mathayus and his brother did same. They all stayed in that stagnant position, debating on what to do until they heard, "Seize them!"
At that, Philip did not think twice before grabbing Monica by the hips and jumping out the window behind her. The height of the tower was scary for sure, but they fell down the entire length of it.
But then of course the Duke of Anfield had not done that without thinking. He remembered the empire harboured lakes in every lawn, capable of giving them a safer landing…or sinking.
They dived in with significant force,   creating a large swoosh of water that emerged upwards from the lake.
Both being beautiful swimmers, they forced themselves back to air, wiping faces and squeezing hair.
And last thing they saw when they looked back up and through the window was the scene of Mathayus being dragged away along with his brother by the soldiers.
"You'll have to thank me later," Philip said without looking at the lady. Immediately the words reached air, he turned away and swam to the edge of the water.