CHAPTER FOURTEEN It was dawn in Kent. The mist that had formed in the pre-dawn hours was now hanging like a thick blanket across the land, shrouding the awakening world in a cold embrace. David was standing in the entryway of Canterbury’s mighty keep. His face was pinched from the cold as he leaned against the doorjamb, his eyes riveted to the scene below. He was wrapped in a heavy fur cloak, but it gave him little comfort. He had been standing there all night, watching and waiting. The sounds of broadsword clashing had gone on throughout the night and now into the morning. Maddoc and Brighton had not eased their battle since the inception. It had been stronger at times, weaker at others, but there had been a constant fight since dusk of the previous evening. It had been brutal and bloody to watch, but now as the sun rose and a new day was dawning, it seemed to be gaining steam again. David had sent the womenfolk inside when the battle started, including a hysterical Adalind. She wanted to stay and watch but David would not permit it. If Maddoc was to be killed, he didn’t want her to witness it. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to witness it. Even now, he could see the combatants over to the curtain wall, moving like the walking dead with lethargy and strength and, at times, carelessness. David thought about calling an end to it but he knew it would do no good; they would simply start up again, at some point, so it was best to let them fight it out until a victor emerged. David seriously wondered who it would be.
