Stuart, Elizabeth Read Online Free

ghost.
    "Robert!"
    He
glanced back. Geoffrey was fighting like a madman, struggling through the
crush. "Robert wait! Don't chance those stairs alone."
    His
men were rallying to his war cry. They would be with him in minutes. But the
grease was splattering down the length of the stairs. In seconds they could be
an inferno.
    He
caught hold of the wooden railing, lunged forward up the slippery treads.
Halfway up, the man with the grease keg blocked him, sword drawn.
    On
a lower rung of the stairs, Robert was at a decided disadvantage, but he fought
as he had never fought before, because he'd never had so much to lose. And
gradually the man gave way, backing up the grease-covered stairway.
    The
door of the keep swung open. A soldier darted out, waving a flaming brand in
his hand. With a strength powered by desperation, Robert drove himself against
his opponent.
    The
man stumbled, lost his balance in the slippery footing and went down. Robert
kicked him down the stairway, lunging past up the last few steps in an effort
to stop the man holding the torch.
    But
the man had already touched off the grease. It flickered, caught, spread
rapidly, and the platform before the door was aflame.
    The
door to the keep stood open. Robert could see into the shadowy, firelit hall. So
close...
    The
flames were already licking at the grease on his boots. The heat rushed upward.
Rage and frustration swept him. And fear.
    Not
again. He couldn't go through this hell again!
    But
he was so damned close!
    With
an animal-like snarl of his war cry, Robert launched himself through the
flames. The guard stumbled back through the entrance, hastened to slam the
great door.
    But
a stick of firewood jammed it, a grubby kitchen lad clinging desperately to one
end. The guard kicked the boy aside, but those few precious seconds were
enough.
    Robert
caught the door, put his shoulder into the crack and shoved his way through the
entrance.
    And
he was inside!

Two
    The
interior of the great hall was smoky and dim and a hush of fear lay upon it. In
the raised central hearth, a dying fire sputtered. Rushlights burned near the
entrance and long, wavering shadows barred the floor.
    Robert
hesitated in the doorway. Save for the soldier before him, the near portion of
the room lay empty. The man held his sword at the ready, his shield well up,
but he was ashen-faced, the whites of his eyes showing.
    Robert
lifted his sword and stepped forward, but the man began backing away.
"T-the Lion," he stammered out. "Christ save us! 'Tis the Lion
of Normandy up from the dead!"
    With
the smoke and flames behind him, Robert knew he must look like some specter
from hell. He didn't hesitate to press the advantage. He was only one man
against an unknown number back there in the dark.
    He
lunged forward, hoping to finish the man, but the soldier whirled and fled,
disappearing into the great gaping blackness at the far end of the hall.
    Robert
held his breath, listening. The thud of boots told him the man had made the
stairs to the upper floor. His ears told him something else as well. The hall
wasn't empty. There were hushed sounds of movement, stifled breathing, back
there in the dark.
    Straightening
slowly, he gathered himself, fighting for control of his twitching, tingling
limbs. The fierce struggle for Belavoir had lasted scarcely ten minutes, yet he
felt he'd been fighting for hours. His heart was pumping wildly, his blood
surging with the battle lust that made him long to seek out his enemies.
    But
that would be the act of a fool. There could be any number of men back there
waiting to fall on him. Here, he had only to hold fast and defend the door.
Geoffrey and the rest of his men would be moving heaven and earth to get up
those stairs.
    "My
lord... be you demon or man?"
    With
a violent start, Robert swung around, lifting his sword. A few feet away a face
peered out from behind a stack of trestles—the boy who had wedged the door.
With the face came the memory.
    Robert
caught a