Fox lifted Jordan onto his horse. She tried to slide away, but he swung up into the saddle behind her, dragging her up. She tried to spit out the gag in her mouth and finally managed to free herself of it. But her cries died beneath the roar of the flames and shouts of the castle occupants desperately trying to douse the growing fire.
Fox covered her mouth again and seized the reins. He spurred the animal toward the outer gatehouse.
Fox glanced back in the direction of Castle Ruvane. The towering structure was almost out of sight, nothing more than a small blemish on the horizon. The road behind them was empty. It didn’t seem as if they were being followed. He glanced at Scout. She shook her head, confirming his sentiment.
They weren’t being followed. The guards must have been too busy with the fire Smithy had started to notice their escape. Jordan shifted her position slightly in the saddle before him and Fox’s gaze was drawn to her. The hood blew off of Jordan’s head and a strand of her hair whipped free of the confines of her braid. The wind blew it back against his face. It rubbed his cheek as though it was a caress. Fox lifted a hand to push the hair from his face, but he caught the surprisingly soft lock in his palm. He gazed at it a long moment before opening his palm to free it.
He lifted his gaze to the back of Jordan’s head. The lack of pursuit won’t last long, he thought. Not once Ruvane finds out I have his daughter.
Fox groaned softly. That was the last thing he needed, to bring down Ruvane’s wrath on his friends. Why did she have to come out of the stairway then? Why did you feel compelled to bring her with you? another voice inside him wondered. You should have just left her there. But now that she is here, what am I going to do with her? he silently mused.
“What are you going to do with her?”
They had stopped to give the horses a rest, and Fox allowed Jordan to dismount. Her legs were cramped and achy from the long ride. The other monks had long since shed their disguises, discarding the robes. And now Jordan felt all of their eyes on her as they awaited Fox’s reply to the big man’s question. She bowed her head, refusing to look at them. At least Fox had not found the dagger hidden at her thigh. But the weapon brought her little comfort. She couldn’t use it against all of them, no matter how good her aim had become. And besides, her wrists were still bound behind her back.
“Just let her go,” the man named Beau offered. She had heard Fox call him by that name. “She’ll be more trouble than she’s worth.”
Yes, Jordan encouraged silently, lifting her gaze to lock with Fox’s.
“I don’t want another woman in our home. One is quite enough,” the old man with whiskers said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” the solitary woman in Fox’s pack of rogues asked.
“Let her go, Fox,” the tall man added. “We don’t need the trouble.”
Fox sighed and his gaze bore into her.
Hope surged through her, but she dared not say a word.
She knew whatever she told him, he would do the opposite. Let me go, she prayed.
“You want me to cut her free?” the tall man asked and stepped toward Jordan.
“No,” Fox whispered. “She stays. We could use the ransom.”
“Ransom?” Beau echoed. “That could take days. Even weeks. What are we supposed to do with her in the meantime?”
“No,” Jordan whispered. Panic constricted her chest. She had to do something. Weeks. The children would think she had abandoned them. She couldn’t be gone for weeks. She had to do something. Abagail was there, yes, but she didn’t know where to get the food, much less how to pay for it. They needed her. She had no time to waste with these... murderers.
They all stood watching her, tired from the long ride. None of them seemed to be on edge, or even very alert. This would be her only chance. Desperate, scared, she spun around and elbowed one of the horses in the flank with her bound hands, screaming at the horse, frightening it enough so it reared and kicked wildly. Startled, the gathered band of thieves moved quickly back from the upset animal.
Jordan whirled and raced off into the dark, thick forest, disappearing into the night.
Fox and company all stood for a long, quiet moment watching Jordan run into the trees.
Fox glanced at Beau. Beau shook his head. “I’m seeing to my horse,” he said and moved to the horse Jordan had set into motion. He rubbed the animal’s mane, calming the beast with easy strokes. Then he sat down, placing his hands behind his head.
Fox’s gaze shifted to Pick.
Pick smiled and shook his head. “You’re the one who wants to ransom her. You go and get her.”
Scout notched an arrow and pointed it at Jordan’s retreating back. “I’ll bring her down.”
Fox cursed silently. “No, no, no. I’ll get her.” He pushed Scout’s bow aside and watched Jordan for a moment. Did she truly think to escape him with her arms tied and her long dress hindering her movement? Fox sighed heavily and walked into the forest after her. Even in the darkness, he could see her shadow moving ahead of him. His large strides kept her in view. The thick undergrowth tugged at her dress, slowing her pace to nothing more than a brisk walk.
Where did she think she was going?
Then she tripped over a branch and fell, face forward to the ground.
As Fox reached her side, she was sliding her hands beneath her feet so they were tied in front of her instead of in back. He grabbed her, pulling her to her feet.
“Let go of me!” Jordan snapped. She twisted out of his grip, and Fox suddenly found himself staring down the tip of a dagger.
Slowly, a grin spread across his lips. What did she hope to do with that?
Jordan held the dagger firmly before her with her bound hands. Suddenly, she thrust the dagger at him and he took a quick step back, easily avoiding the strike. “Are you actually trying to kill me, Jordan?” he asked, incredulous.
“Get back,” she whispered.
“You won’t get away.”
Jordan took a step backward. “We’ll just see about that.”
Fox watched her with growing fascination, watched the way the moonlight made a halo around her magnificently curvaceous body. Time had been very friendly to Jordan Ruvane. Very friendly indeed. She took more steps back, away from him.
He took a step toward her, but she suddenly leaped away from him, twisting her body in midair, doing a sideways somersault over a fallen log. With her hands bound! It was one of the most amazing maneuvers he had ever seen. Then, almost immediately, he felt a sharp tug at his clothing and heard a loud thunk near his stomach. He glanced down to find his tunic pinned to the tree behind him by what could only have been her dagger. Amazement washed through him. How had she...
It didn’t matter now. He had to stop her. He quickly reached up and pried the dagger loose with sharp back and forth motions, then lurched forward to give chase.
But she was gone, the trees hiding her like a blanket. Fox cursed silently. He gritted his teeth and froze, forcing his breathing to slow. Calm. He had to remain calm. He closed his eyes. Silence. Then, from in front of him to the right, he could hear her, moving through the leaves and branches. Running. Fox knew he couldn’t lose her. He would never hear the end of the jabs and ridicule from his friends.
He vaulted into action, ducking tree branches, leaping over fallen logs, bursting through underbrush. Then he paused again. Instantly, he heard her, this time closer.
His heart raced as he continued his pursuit. He would catch her, he had no doubt. But rage rose in his heart that she would dare to even try to escape. He had expected her to be frightened and docile, but she was proving to be more stubborn and brave than he had anticipated.
Fox closed quickly on her and reached out for her, but she dodged left and he grabbed nothing but air. He cursed silently and adjusted his path. She was directly in front of him now. He reached out again and grabbed her shoulder, trying to halt her. “Jordan!” he shouted, his tone insisting she stop.
Jordan yanked
free so hard she was propelled forward onto her hands and knees. She skidded slightly from the impetus and finally came to a stop on the muddy forest floor.
Fox halted beside her, breathing hard. He stared at her lowered head. Strands of her brown hair had come free from her braid and curled around her cheeks. She was breathing hard as well, her back rising and falling with each hard-earned mouth of air. Fox shook his head. Stubborn little...
“Why are you doing this, Fox?”
Fox straightened. The tenderness and confusion in her voice pulled at what remained of his heart for a moment. But only for a moment. He grabbed her arm in a fierce grip and pulled her to her feet, then whirled and headed back toward his group, dragging her roughly in tow.
He hadn’t taken but two steps when Jordan stumbled. He looked back at her and realized she was limping. Her skirt was ripped from her knee down, and a slight trickle of blood trailed down her left leg. Serves her right for running from me, he told himself.
Part of him wanted to stop and make sure she was all right but he refused to listen to that weaker voice inside him. He wanted nothing to do with her. The only value her life had was the ransom she would bring. He yanked her forward, his hand tight around her upper arm. She stumbled, but this time he didn’t stop. He pulled her sharply along behind him without even a glance back.
Finally, he broke through the bushes to where the others were waiting. Fox released Jordan in the middle of the group, roughly shoving her away from him. “We waste no more time. Let’s move.”
The others nodded at him. “Took you long enough,” Beau chided Fox. Scout had a dark scowl on her face as she turned to mount her horse.
Fox turned back to Jordan and grabbed her waist, intending to lift her onto the horse. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of her face and faltered. Strands of curling locks hung damply to her cheek. He swiveled his gaze to study her face. Her lips were full and pouty. The lower one actually jutted out slightly as if at any moment she was going to cry. Her cheeks were slightly red, whether from exertion or embarrassment or anger, Fox didn’t know. Her large blue eyes were sad and full of tears. The years had changed her so much. She was beautiful.
He shook himself mentally. She was a spoiled woman who was going to burst into tears at any moment. Well, he didn’t have time for a weeping, wailing woman. He leaned close to her to lift her.
“Take your hands off me this moment, Mercer,” she commanded.
There had been no tears in her voice, no quivering tone. He pulled back to look at her. The tears glinted in her eyes, but now he was sure they were tears of fear, of uncertainty. And suddenly, irrationally, he wanted to wipe away her fear.
The thought was fleeting and he shoved it from his mind instantly as though it had scorched his brain. He narrowed his eyes. “The Fox Mercer you knew doesn’t exist anymore. He has been dead for a long time. I am the Black Fox.”
“Call yourself what you will. But I will call you a barbarian. A thief. A criminal. A murderer. You hide in the dark like a coward.”
“I am not a coward,” he growled.
“No? Then what do you call a man who steals a woman from her home to ransom?”
“A desperate man,” Fox snarled. He lifted her up onto the horse and quickly mounted behind her, holding her tight against him so she couldn’t escape.
“I loathe you,” she said with all the vehemence coursing through her slender body.
“As you should,” Fox replied and spurred his horse forward toward Castle Mercer.
Chapter Ten
Jordan trembled in the saddle as she stared at the crumbling ruins of what used to be Castle Mercer. She knew the castle had fallen into disrepair over the years, but she was surprised at the extent of its decay.
The morning sun was just beginning to rise on the horizon. Its reddish light drenched the collapsed walls and cracked stones in a blood-red glow. For a moment, she felt as if she were looking at some fallen stone giant, its numerous wounds spilling blood everywhere she could see, staining the half-erect walls with the red-smeared memories of a hard-fought battle. A chilling breeze seemed to float forth from the empty castle interior, whistling soft, eerie whispers to her as the slight wind circled round her.
Jordan shivered and goose bumps peppered her arms. She wanted to rub the chill away, rub her hands up and down her arms, but her bound wrists prevented her from doing so.
As they crossed the drawbridge, the planks creaked and moaned, and Jordan thought for certain the rotted boards wouldn’t support their weight. At one point in the middle of the bridge, a gaping hole showed the brown, murky moat below. The water was dark, its surface overgrown with decayed plant life.
The horse continued on, moving beneath the rusted portcullis. Jordan glanced up as the animal brought her under the raised metal spikes. Teeth. That’s what they were. Huge, metal teeth waiting to take a bite out of any unsuspecting visitor. She quickly looked away.
Inside the outer ward, the houses, which had once been home to thriving merchants and villagers, stood empty, some without doors, some with collapsed thatched roofs. Weeds had overrun the outer courtyard, climbing their way around the houses and up the castle walls, encompassing the cracked and crumbling stone in a tapestry of varied greens and browns.
Her wrists chafed, the tight ropes digging into her flesh, the binds seeming to grow tighter and tighter the deeper they moved into the castle. Again she shivered, but this time it wasn’t from any chill wind. She knew the source of the dread snaking up along her spine. It was this place, Castle Mercer.
Its eerie tales had spooked nearby villagers for a decade.
As they approached the inner ward, Jordan noticed that not only were both the inner and outer wards empty, but so were the walkways. Wind blew shrilly across the vacant battlements. The only soldiers guarding the castle were the ghosts from long ago.
Indeed, she had heard many rumors and much gossip about the ghosts of Castle Mercer. Many a villager had seen specters patrolling the gatehouses at night. No one would dare step foot into the crumbling castle for fear of being swept away into the afterlife. She glanced up at the rising sun. At least it was almost daytime. Most ghosts didn’t come out during the day. At least, she hoped they didn’t.
Fox halted the horses in the middle of the inner courtyard. Jordan remained seated for a long time, glancing around the courtyard for any sign of dark demons. Castle Mercer was supposed to have been vacant for years. Evan had told her many times no one lived at Castle Mercer anymore. Every year, he sent a man out to make sure none of the villagers had taken up residence there. But the villagers were far too scared to go anywhere near the castle, especially after the year the man Evan had sent returned with a horrifying story of floating ghosts and terrifying footsteps. Evan had to find another man to send every year after that, and most refused to return to the castle a second year.
Jordan knew Evan would not look in Castle Mercer for her. It was a perfect spot for Fox to keep her. Evan was convinced it was empty. The villagers were terrified.
And then there were the ghosts.
Movement behind her caught her eye and she whirled to see a little girl trailing in the distance behind them with a large branch of leaves, dusting the ground, wiping away any sign that someone had entered the castle.
At the feel of hands around her waist Jordan startled, pulling back in the saddle, stifling her scream. She looked down to find Fox had already dismounted and was reaching to ease her from the horse. Jordan cursed herself for letting her imagination run away with her. Ghosts. There were no such things. She was constantly telling the children that, yet here she was letting herself get spooked by old stories and foolish flights of fancy.
She pushed Fox’s hands away and slid from the saddle. She nearly fell to the ground, but leaned into the horse’s side to keep her balance. Her gaze darted to the darkened doorway of the nearby blacksmith’s shop. Had something moved in there? For a fleeting moment, she thought she saw a flash of white pas
s the doorway. She quickly looked away, again cursing her imagination. I’m just tired, she rationalized. Just tired.
Fox put a hand to her lower back and ushered her up the two steps to the Keep. She offered no resistance. One side of the great double doors hung from one of its hinges, leaning heavily against the other. There was just enough room for one person to enter. Fox pushed her gently through the opening.
Jordan stopped instantly when she entered the dark keep. There were no torches on the walls, and only a bare sliver of light from outside penetrated the dark hallway. She involuntarily took a step back, wanting to get out of the murky gloom, but Fox bumped into her as he entered the Keep behind her, stopping her movement.
He gently pushed her a step forward, but Jordan tried to retreat again, afraid to move ahead. In the black interior of the decaying building, she thought she heard someone moan.
Fox’s chuckle sounded in her ear, but Jordan refused to move. He took hold of her arm and guided her down the hallway, pulling her forward.
Jordan remained close to Fox, her gaze flickering from one shadow to the next. Her fingers closed over his tunic, holding it tightly in her fist, a beacon to this world.
Her eyes grew used to the darkness, but the images reaching her made it feel as if she were living a nightmare. Shadows seemed to slither around her, thin black tendrils weaving and shifting in the darkness. More disturbing sounds reached her ears. Footsteps. For a moment she thought someone was walking right behind them, but when she turned to look she could see nothing but more eerie shadows. It took her another moment to realize she was hearing Fox’s footsteps and hers echoing around them off the cracked stone walls.
They moved past the double doors of what used to be the Great Hall. A shaft of rising sun shone in through the open entrance and down the hallway, allowing her a glimpse into the room. She stopped walking, forcing Fox to pause. She was grateful for the momentary ray of sunlight. The Hall was empty, a mere shadow of its former grandeur. There were no rushes on the floor, and several cracked wooden benches lay overturned not far from the entrance.
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