A Clash of Honor - By Morgan Rice Page 0,20

or to die—their relationship had always been so fraught with tension.

Gwen had also slept in the cottage because she did not know where else to go. She felt unsafe returning to the castle, to be under the same roof with her brother, and she felt safe here, in Illepra’s care, with Akorth and Fulton standing guard outside the door. She felt nobody knew where she was, and she wanted it that way. Besides, she had grown fond of Godfrey these last few days, had discovered the brother she had never known, and it pained her to think of his dying.

Gwen scrambled to her feet, hurrying over to Godfrey’s side, her heart pounding, wondering if he was still alive. A part of her sensed that if he woke in the morning, he would make it, and if he did not, it would be over. Illepra roused and hurried over, too. She must have fallen asleep at some point in the night; Gwen could hardly blame her.

The two of them knelt there, by Godfrey’s side, as the small cottage filled with light. Gwen placed a hand on his wrist and shook him, as Illepra reached up and placed a hand on his forehead. She closed her eyes and breathed—and suddenly, Godfrey’s eyes opened wide. Illepra pulled her hand back in surprise.

Gwen was surprised, too. She did not expect to see Godfrey open his eyes. He turned and looked right at her.

“Godfrey?” she asked.

He squinted, closed his eyes, and opened them again; then, to her amazement, he propped himself up on one elbow and looked at them.

“What time is it?” he asked. “Where am I?”

His voice sounded alert, healthy, and Gwen had never felt so relieved. She broke into a huge smile, along with Illepra.

Gwen lunged forward and embraced him, giving him a big hug, then pulled back.

“You’re alive!” she exclaimed.

“Of course I am,” he said. “Why wouldn’t I be? Who is this?” he asked, turning towards Illepra.

“The woman who saved your life,” Gwen answered.

“Saved my life?”

Illepra looked down to the floor.

“I only helped a small bit,” she said, humbly.

“What happened to me?” he asked Gwen, frantic. “The last I remember, I was drinking in the tavern and then…”

“You were poisoned,” Illepra said. “A very rare and strong poison. I’ve not encountered it in years. You’re lucky to be alive. In fact, you’re the only one I’ve ever seen survive it. Someone must have been looking down on you.”

At her words, Gwen knew that she was right, and she immediately thought of her father. The sun streaked into the windows, stronger, and she felt her father’s presence with them. He had wanted Godfrey to live.

“It serves you right,” Gwen said with a smile. “You had promised to forsake ale. Now look at what happened.”

He turned and smiled at her, and she saw the life back in his cheeks, and she felt flooded with relief. Godfrey was back.

“You saved my life,” he said to her, earnestly.

He turned to Illepra.

“Both of you did,” he added. “I don’t know how I shall ever repay you.”

As he looked at Illepra Gwen noticed something—it was something in his look, something more than gratitude. She turned and looked at Illepra, and noticed her blushing, looking down to the floor—and Gwen realized that they liked each other.

Illepra quickly turned and crossed the room, turning her back to them, busying herself with a potion.

Godfrey looked back to Gwen.

“Gareth?” he asked, suddenly solemn.

Gwen nodded back, understanding what he was asking.

“You’re lucky you’re not dead,” she said. “Firth is.”

“Firth?” Godfrey’s voice rose in surprise. “Dead? But how?”

“He hung him from the gallows,” she said. “You were supposed to be next.”

“And you?” Godfrey asked.

Gwen shrugged.

“He has plans to marry me off. He sold me to the Nevaruns. Apparently they’re on their way to take me away.”

Godfrey sat up, outraged.

“I shall never allow it!” he exclaimed.

“Neither shall I,” she answered. “I will find a way.”

“But without Firth, we have no evidence,” he said. “We have no way to bring him down. Gareth will be free.”

“We will find a way,” she responded. “We will find—”

Suddenly the cottage filled with light as the door opened and in marched Akorth and Fulton.

“My lady—” Akorth began, then turned at the site of Godfrey.

“You son of a bitch!” Akorth cried out in joy to Godfrey. “I knew it! You cheated just about everything in life—I knew you’d cheat death, too!”

“I knew no mug of ale would take you to your grave!” Fulton added.

Akorth and Fulton ran over, and as Godfrey

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