Lawrence had let fall his hood and carefully pulled the folds of Adelaide’s hood downward.  Putting his hand inside his pocket, he pulled forth a small bottle. He opened the cap and dipped in his two fingers. Lifting his hand, he touched the ceiling above his head, making the sign of the cross on the wood that was being broken through.        His lips moved noiselessly. Inside his heart a prayer of protection was being said to the Eternal Father. Light poured into the dark cellar. Saber bent down and grimaced with an unnatural glee. Lawrence made no sign, lifted not his face, nor said a word.   ***            The dawn was shining gold on the face of the man. He had a thick brown beard, eyes deep and small, and was both tall and broadly built. He towered over the woman and smiled. In his hands was a large axe and around his neck a large crucifix.    “May God be with you Charles,” the woman said, and they both started to run back to the cabin.   ***

         Thundering, a group of five men on horseback came riding over the last hill toward the cabin. Their hoods had fallen from their faces as the wind sped past them and revealed kindly faces, though set hard as iron; their duty was written in the creases of their brows and was flickering in their eyes. Their horses were snorting in the cold wind that they plunged through, and their hoofs were tearing at the snow and ice over which they galloped.     ***        Saber raised his fist for a dreadful blow; Lawrence still did not stir. The strike never came. Down on Saber came the farmer from above in the loft, who took a leap over the heads of Benoit and Lamond. Away from the hole they rolled on top of each other. Lawrence leaped to his feet and up the short stairs he sped while Wyatt was not looking and struck a mighty blow; Wyatt tumbled to the ground unconscious.      Lamond drew a dagger and advanced toward Lawrence; his brows were knit in furious anger and hate. Lawrence dove underneath Lamond’s stroke and wrapped his arms round the large legs and took a mighty pull which laid Lamond on his back. Lamond lost his grip on the dagger; it fell to the floor. Lawrence saw it fall and snatched it away from Lamond’s groping fingers.       Kneeling above Lamond, Lawrence poised the dagger above him.        “Aye, that the son of a prince would draw steel above me,” Lamond whispered.         “Benedicta, make haste and protect the baby with your life,” said Charles, whisking away for the front of the house. His pace slackened. Round the corner he passed, but two men stood before him. He raised his axe; the men trembled to meet one who had laid them low. One man raised his gun and shot.  The bullet missed its mark by the trembling of the man’s hand. Charles rushed forward before the man could re-load and gave a mighty jab with his boot at the man’s stomach, thrusting the breath from him; he fell to the ground. Before the man could again regain his feet, his companion also shot his gun. It hit. Charles felt a tremor go up his shoulder from where the bullet struck him in his fore-arm. Yet he grasped his axe and swung the haft against the head of the man tossing him to the icy snow.       He found the door bolted. Raising his axe, he took three mighty blows, and the door gave way; the sun poured inside the smoky room. Before him lay a mightily built man, and to his ears came the sound of a scream. Looking quickly to his right, he saw Benoit leaping into the cellar from whence came the scream. Charles ran forward and let his axe clatter to the floor; he reached down the cellar and grabbed hold of Benoit’s waist, pulling him upward with a grimace from the pain of his arm. Benoit could not struggle; his ribs prevented him.       Charles lifted Benoit and threw him out of the house into the snow next to his companions. Turning round, Charles beheld through the smoke a room with men strewn about un-moving, slightly breathing. Lawrence and the farmer were lifting Neville who had been lying unconscious and bringing him toward the door. Charles moved aside to let them pass.       “Bring them all out, Thomas,” said Charles, addressing the farmer. “They will awaken, but never will they return.”       “Aye, but never will we cease to follow in your footsteps,” Benoit hissed through his teeth and looked at Lawrence with a hateful eye “You will be rooted out.”        Lawrence heeded not his words or looked into his eyes but walked back into the house with Thomas. The sounds of voices were heard round the house and a snorting of horses. Charles closed his eyes and kissed the cross that hung round his neck.