A Knight With Mercy - an Assassin Knights novel

by O’Donnell, Laurel

  She nodded. “I’m Kit’s mother. Do you remember me?”

  A moment passed in which she thought she could be wrong. Maybe this wasn’t Rafe. But then, his eyes widened. “Yes! I remember you! I remember! I used ta play with Kit! You lived in the same village as me! Can you take me home?”

  Her heart ached. Rafe! He had been taken four years before Kit, just before Dean’s death. “Yes!” Overjoyed, she stepped forward to embrace him, but he pulled away from her quickly. She froze, staring in shock. What had happened to him? What had the bishop done? She nodded, trying to reassure him without touching him. “It’s alright. I’ll take you home.”

  Hesitant and fearful, his stare swept over her. He nodded and kept his distance.

  He wasn’t the carefree, happy child she remembered, the young boy who had played with Kit. Kit! Rafe would know where he was. “Have you seen Kit?”

  Rafe shook his head.

  “Where did the bishop take you?”

  “Why didn’t ya stop him?” Thomas demanded. “Why did ya let him take Rafe?”

  “I couldn’t,” Mercy replied, but at his accusation, a dagger of repentance and horror sliced through her. “I couldn’t stop him. The bishop is very powerful. He has soldiers.” She sighed softly. “I’m sorry. I would have if I could.” She dropped to her knees before Rafe. “I’m sorry.”

  Rafe nodded but wouldn’t look at her.

  “I will bring you home.” She looked down at the ground, at the ripped blankets strewn about. “But I have to find Kit first.”

  “Can’t you take me home first?” Rafe asked.

  “It’s not safe. The bishop might go back to Goodmont. If he found you –”

  Rafe’s scowl was fierce and angry. “I’m not going back with him.”

  “I will take you home. I promise. When it’s safe.”

  “It will never be safe. I escaped once. He would never let me escape again.”

  “We all escaped,” Thomas proclaimed proudly, lifting his chin in defiance.

  “From where?” she demanded. Because that was where Kit was. “Where did the bishop keep you?”

  “The castle.”

  “On the hill,” Rafe added.

  “He keeps us prisoner there.”

  Bishop Devdan’s castle. It wasn’t far. The boys could have escaped and come here to find safety. He kept them prisoner? That wasn’t what he told the village. “Did he hurt you?”

  They looked from one to the other and then down at the floor. “No,” Thomas said for all of them.

  She didn’t believe him. There was something in the way he answered that was practiced, fake. She clenched her teeth. “I’m going there. I’m going to get the rest of the boys.”

  “No!” Thomas said. He shook his head frantically. “You won’t come back.”

  Sympathy swept through her. How much agony had they known? “Did the bishop take you from your family?”

  Thomas scowled. “Me mum sold me ta ‘im.”

  Mercy was horrified. What kind of mother would sell her son? “As a slave? What did the bishop do with you?”

  Thomas looked down, his lips pursed.

  Mercy looked at the other boys.

  Rafe scowled fiercely and the other boys looked away.

  “It’s alright. It doesn’t matter,” Mercy told them. “You don’t have to tell me.” It was enough that they were prisoners. She didn’t need to know the horrors they went through. “It’s alright.”

  How was she to get to the castle without being noticed? She looked at Thomas. Then her gaze swept Rafe and the other two children. They had escaped. They would know how to get in. She dropped to her knees before Thomas. “He has my boy. I have to go to the castle and find him. I have to find Kit.”

  Thomas shook his head in disapproval.

  “It’s not just Kit. There are others there,” Rafe said quietly.

  Mercy looked at him over her shoulder. “How many?”

  “I don’t know. We were never allowed to see each other.”

  “They kept us in separate small rooms. Until the bishop wanted us,” Thomas said quietly.

  Like animals, Mercy thought.

  “There was one time he brought us out. He made us line up,” Rafe said. “I remember how happy I was ta see the sun. There were maybe six or seven others.”

  Thomas nodded, but there was no happiness in his face. Only a haunting coldness.

  Mercy swallowed. “Thomas. Rafe. You escaped. How did you do it?”

  Rafe and Thomas exchanged uneasy glances. “I used to go exploring at night,” Thomas said quietly.

  “If you were bad, the bishop would make sure you had a guard,” Rafe explained. “Or if there were visitors. The bishop didn’t want us seen. He would make sure we didn’t leave our rooms by putting a guard there.”

  Thomas nodded. “In the beginning, you have an escort. Until you get used to the rules.”

  “But you are not allowed to leave your room. Ever.”

  Both boys were silent for a long moment, remembering.

  Mercy looked at the younger boys sitting on the floor. “What if you were caught?” she wondered.

  “You were punished,” the smallest boy whispered. It sounded like a shout in the small cave. He sat in the corner of the cavity; his knees pulled up to his chest.

  Both Thomas and Rafe looked at the boy.

  “They caught him out at night once,” Thomas said quietly.

  Rafe went and sat next to the boy. He looked at Mercy. “Will was in the room next to mine.” He looked back at the small boy. “We talked through a hole in the wall. I promised him I wouldn’t leave without him.”

  The boy nodded, looking at Rafe with adoration. “And ya took me with.”

  Rafe nodded, a strange grin on his face.

  Mercy’s heart twisted. How many other boys were like Will? Punished. Hurt. What did the bishop do to them?

  Thomas sneezed twice and then dusted his shirt off. “I started sneaking out of my room at night ta find a way out. I finally did. Through the crypts.”

  “The crypts?”

  “Where they keep all the dead of the castle. I think the bishop’s mom and dad are down there.”

  “Can we get into the castle that way?”

  Thomas shook his head. “I’m not goin’ back.”

  Mercy couldn’t blame him. She didn’t want them to go back. She didn’t want them in danger. “No. You don’t have to. I just need someone to show me how to get in.”

  Rafe looked at all the boys.

  “I would never ask you to go back into the castle. It’s too dangerous. But I have to. I have to find Kit.”

  “There are other boys like us,” Rafe said. “They’re prisoners there.”

  “It’s not our concern,” Thomas stated strongly. “We got out.”

  Rafe looked at Will. Finally, he stood. “I’ll show you how I escaped. I’ll show you where to go.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  In a large room in Devdan Castle, Richard was shoved to his knees by two guards. His hands were bound behind him. A large wooden cross hung on the wall before him.

  “Sir Richard le Breton,” a voice said from the darkness. Clunk. Shuffle. Clunk.

  Richard’s lip was cut where a guard had punched him. He had been overpowered in the cathedral by the bishop’s soldiers.

  “Have you come to put a sword through my head?” the bishop asked.

  If only he could. If only his hands were free. He needed no sword to end this Satan’s spawn’s life. But he remained silent.

  “You have no words for me?”

  “I have many words for you. None you would like to hear.”

  The bishop emerged from a dark corner of the large room in his white vestments. “You dare to enter a holy place of worship after what you did?”

  It was a statement that required no response from Richard, and he kept his mouth closed.

  “What were you doing there? Seeking repentance?”

  Richard kept hi
s head bowed, even as his teeth clenched and his hands fisted.

  “Or were you looking for something? Or someone?”

  He knew! Devdan knew why he was here. He knew that Richard was looking for the boy.

  “Where is the woman?”

  “If you’re looking for a woman, you are in the wrong profession.”

  The bishop’s eyes narrowed on his thin face. “What was her name? Mercy Brooker.”

  Dread sliced through Richard. He hoped Mercy was nowhere near this castle or the bishop. But he had been betrayed by that priest, so she must have been also. “I don’t know her.”

  “More lies?” Clunk. Shuffle. Clunk. “I shouldn’t be surprised. Not from one such as you.”

  Taunts would not work with him. It had been eighteen months since the murder of Becket. He had grown used to them from knights and peasants alike. “What do you want with me?”

  “The murderer of the Archbishop Thomas Becket?” The bishop laughed and it came out as a high-pitched crazy sound. “I could execute you and be called a hero.”

  “I don’t think anyone would call you a hero. Child-stealer, maybe.”

  The bishop’s laughter suddenly stopped. “We all have our crosses to bear.”

  “Where do you keep the boys?”

  “They perform God’s work. Even the innocent must labor in the service of our Lord. That is something you know nothing about. Heretic.”

  “Is that what you plan to do? Bore me with your insults?”

  The bishop’s lips thinned. “You should speak to me with reverence. Do you know who I am?”

  Richard slowly lifted his gaze to the bishop. “I know who you are.” His lips curled in disdain. “When I was young, a younger man, really only a boy, told me about a priest. A priest who…did things to him. Touched him in inappropriate ways. Made him touch the priest. He told me the priest’s name and I have never forgotten it.” Richard’s lips twitched with anger. “Tell me. How is that God’s work?”

  Devdan sighed softly. “I repent and am forgiven every night.”

  Richard shot to his feet. “You have no intention of repenting! You use those children for your repugnant sexual urges.”

  The bishop tapped his golden rod.

  “Power has corrupted you.”

  “You are not one to judge. Not after what you did. At least I will be forgiven for my sins. But you cannot receive any of the sacraments. You will die and burn in Hell.”

  “I’ll see you there.”

  The bishop glared at him. “I would take great pleasure in executing you.”

  “Stand in line.”

  Devdan took a deep breath. “All things in good time. I may yet have use for you.”

  “I wonder if the Archbishop knows what you do.”

  A cold grin spread across the bishop’s twisted lips. “Who would dare tell him? He would never believe you.”

  Someone had to stop him. Someone had to stand up to him. But he was careful. He never chose families who had money. He preyed on those weaker than him, those who were vulnerable and afraid, those who would give up a child to remain in good standing with the church. Maybe even an entire town made up of peasants like those in Goodmont.

  “You know it’s true. Good. Guards!”

  The men returned and laid hands on Richard.

  “Take him to the dungeon. I will decide what to do with him.”

  The moon shone high above. Thick shadows stretched throughout the forest. Mercy ducked behind the dense brush with Rafe.

  She had gone to the church earlier, searching for Richard. She was afraid to enter the church; afraid the guards would go there looking for her. Instead, she had waited outside the church, hidden. Richard had not returned. Fear and anxiety gnawed inside her. Did the bishop have Richard? She knew it was foolish to go to the cathedral. Another possibility taunted her. Had Richard decided not to help her find Kit? No. He would never do that.

  Either way, she vowed to continue alone. She would find her son. Still, she was worried for Richard. He would have been here if he could.

  “We have to cross the valley to get to the castle. There is no place to hide until we reach the castle,” Rafe whispered.

  Mercy glanced across the expanse that lay before the castle. Open field. “You don’t have to do this, Rafe. Just point to where the entrance is.”

  Rafe shook his head as he stared out across the open field. “This is the easy part. There are guards on the walkways. They move around the castle. If we time it right…”

  Mercy grasped his arm. “I mean it, Rafe.”

  “I want ta help. I know my mum looked for me, too.” He gazed at her with such vulnerability that Mercy felt a tug at her heart. “You have ta come back. You promised to bring me home.”

  Mercy nodded. “Alright. But I don’t want you going into the castle. Just to the entrance.”

  “You remember what I told you? Which floor they are on. How to get there.”

  Mercy nodded again. Rafe had gone over the layout of the castle with her until she saw it in her mind. “I remember.”

  Her gaze focused on the dark castle, cast in moonlight. Through the crenels, she saw shadowy forms of the guards moving along the walkways. Her heart pounded. She was mad for attempting this, sneaking into a castle to steal her boy from a powerful bishop. Stealing her child back from a man who was not holy.

  She could not sit and do nothing. And she would not end up like Abbey. Richard had given her hope.

  Was she endangering Kit by attempting to take them all? How could she not? How could she leave any of the boys? She glanced at Rafe next to her. He had escaped. And he had endured more than she knew, more than he was willing to tell her. But there were others who had not escaped.

  She would find Kit first. She would make sure he was safe. Then she would save the others.

  “Now!” Rafe whispered. He lurched out from behind the bush and dashed across the field.

  Mercy jolted. Rafe had taken two steps before she acted. She sprinted across the valley to the side of the castle. She followed his lead, huddling next to the cold stone wall of the castle. Stone piles lined the bottom.

  Rafe bent to the ground and removed one of the stones at the base of the castle.

  Mercy glanced up at the crenel above them. No movement.

  He quickly shoved another stone aside.

  She watched him work. It took a moment before she realized he was searching for something. The entrance. He moved another stone. She knelt at his side and began moving the large rocks. All she saw was the wall of the castle meeting the ground.

  Rafe sat back with a scowl. He looked over his shoulder at the valley and then back at the castle wall.

  Mercy glanced up at the crenel again. Their time was running out.

  He scootched to his left and began removing stones again.

  Desperate, Mercy joined him. There were so many stones lining the bottom of the castle. Moments ticked by. Desperation clawed at Mercy. The entrance had to be here. Mercy’s hands burned where the stones scratched her skin.

  “Here!” Rafe whispered.

  Mercy moved to his side and began clearing rocks. She saw a black, dark opening. It wasn’t very big, and she wondered if she could fit into it.

  Rafe crawled forward, moving into the darkness.

  Glancing up at the crenel again, Mercy spied movement. She dove into the tiny opening. Blackness engulfed her. Thomas’s cave came to mind. Another cave? Dread filled her, but she inched forward. The space was tight around her body. She felt the edge of the wall opening with her hands, and moved forward. Suddenly, her hips caught, and she could go no further. She wiggled her hips, twisting them. She could feel fresh air around her calves and feet, and realized they were still out of the castle. On the other side, her head and torso were through the wall and dangling. But her hips wouldn’t move. She was stuck!

  Chapter Fourteen

  The cell was dark. No light permeated the thick blackness. The heavy manacles around Richard�
��s wrist itched. The cut on his lip burned. But he didn’t alleviate either of them. Not by scratching or rubbing. He simply endured them. Penance, he wondered. No. It kept his mind occupied. Otherwise, his mind would wander to a desperate beautiful woman. Had they found her? Was she imprisoned somewhere in this castle?

  He was useless! He drove his fist into the moist stone wall with a grunt of frustration.

  Something scurried in the darkness.

  He couldn’t even protect the woman he loved. Loved? The word caught him off guard. Surprised, he considered it. Is that why she plagued him so? Is that why he couldn’t erase the image of her blue eyes from his mind? Her soft skin still haunted his fingertips. He rubbed them together. Was that why he didn’t tell the bishop she was in the town? He could have bargained with her whereabouts to gain his freedom, but he hadn’t. The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind.

  How foolish he had been for not realizing how he felt about her earlier. Now, she could be in danger. She was in danger; he was certain of it. He had to get free. He had to save her.

  But how? What had the bishop wanted of him? To execute him? No. He would have done that already. No, he said he might have further use of him.

  The thought repulsed him. Did he think to use him as he did the boys? No. The bishop’s tastes were not for mature men.

  Kit. He had to find the boy. He had to get him far away from the bishop.

  There had to be something he could bargain with. Some way to get out of the dungeon.

  Mercy was the only thing that came to mind. He sighed and sat back. What help was he to her? He hoped she was far from Devdan Castle. But he knew she wasn’t. And that thought sent cold shivers through his body.

  “I’m stuck!” Mercy whispered frantically.

  In the gloom of the crypt, she saw a shadow move. Something closed over her wrist. She almost cried out until she realized it was Rafe. He began to tug at her arm. She swiveled her hips and kicked her feet to get through the tiny opening. She sucked in her stomach and pushed against the wall that held her tightly like a fisted hand. This would not stop her, she vowed. She had to get into the castle. She pushed and groaned softly.

  Rafe pulled her. He placed a foot against the wall and tugged.