The Stoneholding

at first, a tear in his hauberk. Keenly sharp, the dagger sliced viciously through the protective chain mail. Thrust into his side by the Queen, Baldrick's own momentum helped drive the thing into his flesh hilt-deep. Groaning with pain and rage, he twisted, tore free of the blade and caught sight of the Queen, still clutching her bloody weapon and wide-eyed with horror. Not wanting to lay open his back to an opponent like Frysan, he resisted the impulse to lunge headlong after her, even as she withdrew, back-stepping out of his reach towards her husband's sickbed in the corner of the room. Frightened by the fresh outbreak of noise, her baby started wailing again.

"Why, you grey-coated leprous witch!" Baldrick roared, ignoring the blood that oozed from his wound. He backed his way into the bedchamber, pivoting around in order to cover Frysan while he advanced on the Queen, his eyes glaring deadly hate.

"Now I'll fix you and yours for good. Blood for blood, my Queen."

Frysan kept pace and stepped warily into the sickchamber. The King lay on a simple bed, his infant son swaddled at his feet. With Baldrick's gory dagger held before her, the Queen took her stand by her lord, like a cornered animal, mindful only of fending off harm from her husband and baby. Now her baby had worked himself into a frenzy of crying, letting loose at the top of his lungs, as if he sensed his mother's fear and the imminence of the danger.

"Stand off, get away! Help, someone, help, for the love of heaven! You, Guardsman there, do ...