Read Online The Pride of Lions by Marsha Canham - Free Book Online Page B

last unlikely moment he shifted his weight forward in a maneuver that should have been impossible to execute. For a certainty Hamilton had not expected it, not this late in the contest. The two blades careened sharply together, the sparks exploding from the steel as Montgomery forced two, three inconceivably swift turns along Hamilton’s saber, causing the lieutenant’s wrist to roll and break tension. A further twist tore the hilt of Garner’s sword out of his numbed fingers and sent it cartwheeling across the cobblestones.
    In shock and disbelief Garner watched as Montgomery recovered his stance and brought his saber lunging forward for the coup de grâce.
    The tip of the blade, aimed unerringly for a point at midchest, veered, in one blink of the eye to the next, to plunge instead into the soft flesh between two ribs. The impact of the cold steel punching through muscle and tissue took his breath away, and Hamilton staggeredback, his gaze fixed with a kind of fascinated horror on the blade as it sank hilt-deep into his flesh, piercing clean through to the other side. There was no pain, not immediately, only a curiously shrinking, sucking sensation that was more pronounced as Montgomery leaned back and pulled the saber free. It was smeared with blood, glinting red in the lantern light, and the lieutenant stared at it, waiting, knowing it would be piercing him again as Montgomery drove for the heart. Hamilton stood his ground, steadfastly refusing to give way to the urge to sag to his knees, although on the next gasped breath he had no choice. His limbs folded beneath him, bringing him down heavily on the damp cobblestones, the crunching of his tall leather boots the only sound in the otherwise hushed courtyard.
    Hamilton folded his hands over the rapidly spreading bloodstain and raised his eyes to Montgomery.
    “What are you waiting for?” he demanded hoarsely. “Finish it, you bastard.”
    Montgomery straightened, the unnatural glow fading slowly from his eyes. He stared at his sword for a moment, then, as if it had suddenly become something repulsive to him, threw it aside and took several steps back toward the flickering row of lanterns.
    Hamilton’s seconds rushed forward and grabbed him beneath both arms to offer support. Montgomery was dimly aware of Damien pressing a wad of folded cloth into his hand, then guiding the hand up to staunch the flow of blood from his temple while someone else poked at the cut on his thigh.
    “Come on,” Damien urged quietly, aware of the goodly number of Hamilton’s fellow dragoons in the crowd. “I don’t think you have made any lasting friends here.”
    “ Montgomery! ”
    The London merchant stopped and turned. Garner was on his feet again, swaying against the efforts of his men to lead him to the side of the ring.
    “Don’t you walk away from me, you bastard!”
    Montgomery’s eyes narrowed. “I have no further quarrel with you, Lieutenant. Take your life and leave it at that.”
    “Leave it? I’ll leave nothing.” He shrugged off the hands holding him and lurched forward, the spittle tinged pink as it foamed on his lips. “You think this makes you the better man? You think this makes you any less of a coward ? You were lucky, that’s all. Lucky.”
    “As you believe, Lieutenant. I’ll say good-bye to you now, however, with sincere wishes that we never meet again.”
    “Bastard.” Hamilton’s jaw clenched through a shudder of pain. “ Bastard! You’re damned right we’ll meet again, and when we do you’ll regret you turned your back on me. Do you hear me, Montgomery? Don’t you walk away from me! ”
    His seconds caught him as he collapsed under a wave of pain. His eyes rolled back so that just the whites showed, and he slumped unconscious into their arms. Two men hurried over with a long plank; he was placed on it and carried into the house, the doctor issuing anxious orders by his side.
    Damien, meanwhile, led Montgomery to the tack room at the rear