by Park, Elsie
Gail stood up from the table, placed her palms on the surface, and leaned in. “We’re all speaking as if we’re just going to let this occur. Well, I, for one, won’t.”
“Well said, Lady Pritchard,” Heath praised. “You can be sure we won’t let anything happen to Lady Gibbons.”
“Yes,” Roland agreed. “We must protect her at all costs. We must be ready for anything, for I don’t know how Doyle plans to get at her. He could send out a single knight or maybe a group of them. At least one of us,” Roland nodded at Heath, “must be with her at all times, as her knight protector, agreed?”
“Agreed,” Heath said.
“You forget that I can defend myself,” Audri said. “You’ve been training me hard for months to what end? I’m not exactly useless.”
Roland smiled. “I know that.” He winked at her before continuing, “Which is why we’ll be girding your side with a sword.”
Audri looked confused. “But I haven’t been knighted yet.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Roland shook his head. “This is a precarious situation requiring action of the utmost security.”
Audri’s eyes lit up. “Good enough for me,” she grinned, excited over the prospect of finally carrying a real sword at her side. Although she hoped she wouldn’t be forced to use it, she felt confident in the skills Roland had drilled into her. She looked at Roland, grateful for his rigorous regimen.
“It appears Festus’s original plan for your submission drastically failed,” Roland said with a smirk as he knelt in front of Audri in the armory. He tightened the leather belt holding the short-sword around her waist. “Our arrangement only served to make his opponent stronger,” he looked up at her with pride, “in mind and body.”
Audri smiled over his head, her face heated from Roland’s touch. His strong fingers had repeatedly brushed her waist and hips as he adjusted the sword strap.
He stood up. “There. How does that feel?”
Audri took a few steps around the armory to make sure it wouldn’t loosen and slip off. “Feels good,” she said, stepping back to him.
“Good.” Roland placed his hands on her shoulders and regarded her again, his face serious. “Listen, we don’t know what’s going to happen, but this I promise,” he began, cupping her left cheek in his right hand, “I will always come for you. Never doubt that.”
“I know,” Audri said, believing it. Her eyes welled up with tears as he took her in his arms and held her tight. She turned her head, resting it against his chest. Her ear listened to the rhythm of his heart. The steady beat sent peace and comfort throughout her agitated body. Oh, how she loved him. No matter what, Sir Roland would rescue her. Though in her heart, Audri knew he already had, for their souls had become forever entwined.
Chapter 17
“I need a drink,” Heath said, moving his tongue around his dry mouth in an attempt to create some semblance of moisture.
“With all this rain, you could just open your mouth,” Roland joked.
They all laughed. They’d just finished their morning drills and were headed back to their chambers. Audri felt carefree but only for a moment. Her unknown predicament, as well as the siblings still trapped in the dungeon, ever loomed in her anxious mind.
It had been several days since the news of Bannockburn and Doyle’s secret declaration that she held the key to Guildon’s peace. No one had tried to approach her since then. In fact, she’d seen very little of Doyle and Festus. Doyle was likely waiting for them to relax, to catch them off guard. Roland mentioned that Doyle hadn’t confided in Heath for days, alluding to Doyle having doubts about Heath’s loyalty. This, of course, prevented them from attaining any warning of an abduction attempt.
The thought had crossed Audri’s mind that perhaps something had taken place between Doyle and the Scots to remove her from the original plan, whatever that may be, but Roland wouldn’t deter his watch.
All these things had visibly set Roland on edge, and he took extra precautions to keep her safe. He was with her all the time, even sleeping with his door open to hear if anyone approached her chamber. He felt it best to keep her away from the chaos of large crowds. She could be grabbed and carried away before he knew it. This put a temporary hold on her village classes. She was disappointed but understood the reason, trusting Roland’s discretion. He escorted her into the village and allowed her to visit the Griffiths.
“We’ll be here when this is all made right,” Liliana had assured her after the situation was explained to them.
“Yes, and we’ll be ready to take on new lessons in arithmetic,” Richard had said with a tentative smile. Though their words were encouraging for the resolution of their plight, the look in their eyes had shown uncertainty.
Roland also continued her drills, though not for Doyle’s and Festus’s sake. Audri truly enjoyed the training and needed to stay honed. It brought her a sense of security and purpose. It gave her something to do other than think about her ambiguous future. Would it be as a forced wife to a Scottish oppressor, or would it be with Roland?
She looked over at her knight protector. With the main attention on her, Audri had to remind him that he too was in danger, cautioning him to be just as diligent about his own life.
“With Doyle knowing you’re a Fletcher,” she said to him, “he might try to get rid of you before he thinks you can discover his involvement with your parents. You’re also standing between him and his peace treaty, something that wasn’t an issue a few days ago. These are two good reasons for you to watch your own back. Doyle is a cunning fox—a sick and depraved one.”
“I know,” Roland said. “I saw for myself the horrors that await those thrown in the dungeon, and I dare say Doyle thinks I’d make a fine specimen for his collection.”
Audri glanced across the courtyard. She shuddered as she spied the devil himself and his twin cronies. They spoke to each other with animated motions but were too far away to be heard. Audri grabbed Roland’s arm. He stopped walking and followed her gaze. The trio of distrustful knights turned and stared at them before stalking off. The determination in their step gave Audri an ill feeling.
She exchanged an uneasy glance with Roland before they continued across the courtyard.
If she somehow avoided being used to buy an alliance, there was still the issue of bringing Doyle to justice for his many crimes. But an arrest surely wouldn’t come from inside Guildon. It was too corrupt, and Doyle held too much power. Festus would surely protect his head knight. With all missives leaving Guildon’s borders being regulated by Festus himself, how could they send word out to other magistrates with the evidence they’d found to implicate Doyle? She didn’t know. At least they had the evidence tucked away in Roland’s room, ready to use when they figured it out.
And then there was Festus. His very name reminded her of an infection that had to be dug out and discarded for the wound to heal. But she didn’t see how that could be accomplished so easily, aside from killing him. He was too powerful, too feared by his people to gain help in an overthrow. She worried not only for the life of her mother but for her relationship with Roland. Would they be torn apart?
Oh, how would any of this end? Again, she didn’t know. But she did know that she trusted Roland, and she trusted God.
And for now, that was enough.
“I sent Bryant ahead to order us some food,” Heath informed the others as they entered the main door to the living quarters. For reasons of security, Roland thought it prudent to take all their meals in Audri’s room. “He’ll have it brought to Audri’s chamber again.” Heath extended a bent arm to Gail, who looped her hand through it as they walked to the chamber.
Eating in solitude also gave them the opportunity to discuss private matters, including a tentative plan to release the siblings from bondage by finding the entrance to the secret tunnel on the Scottish side and entering the dungeon from that dir
ection.
Arriving at the chambers, Roland entered his own to change and to retrieve the dungeon map so they could study it again. He closed the door behind him, leaving it open a crack. Sir Heath remained in the corridor to keep watch.
Gail opened Audri’s door. “Goodness, Bryant was swift today. Looks like the boy delivered our drinks already,” she said with a smile. “He’s already poured the wine. He should be returning with our food soon.”
At the mention of something to drink, Heath poked his head in from the hallway. “Did you say wine?”
Gail sent him a good-natured huff while rolling her eyes. “Come grab a drink, Sir Heath,” she said, giving the large knight permission to enter. He stepped into the chamber and snatched a goblet, downing the contents with multiple gulps before setting the empty cup back onto the table.
“Ah, thank you, Lady Pritchard.” Heath wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his tunic and turned to leave.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Gail said. Heath paused and turned around. “Have another cup if you’re that parched.” She poured more wine into his goblet and handed it to him.
“Ah, much obliged, good woman.” Heath gratefully took it with him and left the room so Audri could change. Gail shut the door behind him.
Audri set her crossbow on the floor beside her bed and then removed the sword belt from her waist, placing it next to the other weapon. She winced at the pain in her hips, bruised and tender from bearing the burden of a weapon she wasn’t used to carrying. It weighed more than the wooden practice sword. The pain had been worse yesterday, so she knew it was subsiding. It would be a few more days before her body was completely calloused to the weight of it.
“Audri?”
Audri looked over at the table where Gail had two goblets in hand. One was held out to her.
Audri shook her head. “Let me clean up first. Only then can I fully enjoy some refreshment.” Gail set Audri’s cup down but emptied her own before coming over to help Audri change.
Peeling the muddy attire from her body, Gail helped her rinse off with soap and water before putting her new clothes on. Pulling a clean tunic over her head and tying the cords at the neck to cinch it, Audri smiled at how her opinions had changed over the months. Though there were occasions when she wore a kirtle and surcoat, enjoying the favorable looks men sent her way, she cherished even more the flattering gaze Roland cast on her in men’s attire. She had also come to love the feeling of freedom those clothes supplied, appreciating the many opportunities she had to don them. She took such pleasure in her dual state and was honored to hold a position women usually weren’t allowed. With this thought, she proudly strapped the sword onto her sore body again.
“Ohhh.”
Audri turned to Gail. She was bent over at the waist, holding her head in her hands.
Audri placed a hand on her maid’s back and leaned over to view her pained face. “Gail, what’s wrong? Has lack of food caused a headache?”
Gail shook her head, but that only resulted in her staggering.
Placing an arm around Gail’s slumped shoulders, Audri ushered Gail to her bed in the corner. “Lie down and rest.”
As soon as Gail’s body stretched out on the straw mattress, she seemed to lose all consciousness. Audri tapped her. Gail didn’t move. Audri bent her face down near to Gail’s. She still breathed, but it was slow, as if she were in a deep sleep.
Something wasn’t right.
Audri straightened her back and turned, her eyes resting on the wine. It had been waiting for them when they’d arrived, but perhaps it hadn’t come from Bryant. Perhaps . . .
She sauntered to the table, uncorked the bottle, and sniffed. At first, she didn’t perceive anything, but she sniffed again. Yes, there it was. Something different. Something was off. She was sure it had been altered.
And Sir Heath had some too! I have to tell Roland!
Replacing the stopper, she ran to the door with the bottle in hand. She yanked the portal open but stopped short. Sir Doyle stood across the corridor in Roland’s open doorway. His back was to her, and he hadn’t noticed her. She glanced down the hallway. Sir Heath’s limp body lay on the floor. She hoped Heath was unconscious and not dead. She didn’t see any blood on him. She returned her gaze to Doyle. He watched something inside Roland’s chamber. Audri could hear scuffling and loud thumps as if large animals were wrestling.
Roland is being set upon!
Fuming, she advanced on Doyle, the wine bottle raised above her head. She swung it down, but Doyle turned at the last moment and dodged her assault, nearly tripping on his own feet to get away. The bottle hit the door frame and broke into pieces, red wine and glass littering the floor.
Audri caught a glimpse of the scene inside Roland’s room. Sir Hammond, sporting a black eye and bloody nose, held Roland’s arms behind his back. His overturned table rested on its side, the dungeon map, ledger, crossbow, and Roland’s sword lay on the floor beside it, well out of Roland’s reach. Roland struggled to free himself as he bucked and swung his body to throw the other knight off of him, but Sir Harold delivered a bloodied fist to Roland’s tunicless torso, knocking the air out of him. Hammond brought his foot down onto the back of Roland’s knees. He released Roland as his knees bent forward and connected with the floor. It had all happened so quickly, within the few seconds she stood in the doorway.
“No!” Audri yelled, taking a step into the room and drawing her sword. This brought the twins’ attention to her, and Roland took the opportunity to roll onto his back, kicking his foot up into Hammond’s groin. The knight doubled over with a groan.
Roland sprang up from the floor and glanced at Audri. Blood dripped from his nose and lip. “Behind you!” he yelled to her as Harold advanced on him again.
Audri’s eyes left the fight, her head whipping around. Doyle had regained his footing and had drawn his sword, bringing the hilt of it toward her head. She ducked, stepping from the doorway and into the corridor. She made ready, her sword in front of her. She knew Doyle wouldn’t kill her. He needed her alive to fulfill his plans, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t rough her up. She intended to put up a furious fight, and if it ended in Doyle’s death, so be it. She needed to help Roland get out from under the detestable knights ganging up on him.
“I thought you’d be passed out by now,” Doyle said, his brows turned down in confusion. “Not Roland, of course. He rarely drinks wine, but you must have abstained, too. How unexpected. And are you challenging me with that?” He smirked at the short-sword in her hand. “Do you really think you can beat me?”
Audri swung her blade at Doyle. He deflected it, but his face showed surprise at the strength in her arm.
Then his mouth twisted into a sneer. “It seems your training has been beneficial . . . in more ways than one.” He spoke of her skill, but his roving eyes suggested her fit figure wasn’t lost on him either.
Repulsed, she took another swing at him. He leisurely stepped back as his sword met hers. Again and again, she swung and he deflected, a continuous grin on his beardless face implying his twisted enjoyment. She became angry that he wasn’t taking her seriously as an opponent.
As if reading her thoughts, he said, through puffs of air, “You have no right to carry that sword.”
“Nor do you, you vile brute,” Audri shot back as she swung her sword at him. He met her blade with his, bringing both swords downward. “Just how much coin have you passed to the Scots over the years?”
Doyle smirked and raised his shoulders in a shrug. “A fortune, milady, but it was all for Guildon’s benefit.”
“You mean for your own,” Audri hissed, moving to the right. “I’m sure Guildon was just an afterthought.”
“Not so. How could I run my special dungeon if it weren’t for Guildon and Festus?” Doyle replied as he held his sword up between them. Audri swung her arm, batting his blade aside wit
h her own. “You’ll never acquire the skill to be a true knight.” Doyle laughed, his scorn piercing her pride.
Enraged over the censure, Audri brought her sword up at an angle in one quick motion, slashing a shallow cut into his upper arm and the tip of his chin.
It was her turn to sneer as his smug expression turned to astonishment. He touched a hand to his chin and examined the red liquid dripping from his fingers before running his tunic sleeve across his lower face to soak up the blood. “I’m suddenly regretting the fact that I’ll be handing you over to the Scots instead of tormenting you in my dungeon.”
After this, he demonstrated his own ability as a seasoned knight, making his first offensive move and swinging at her. She was compelled to step back as the power of his sword rang against hers. He swung at her several times, not giving her time to counter the assaults with her own attacks. She could only defend by blocking his blows. He gave his weapon just enough influence to force her back each time. Her breathing came out in labored gasps, and her arms ached from the onslaught. Panic surfaced as Doyle’s seasoned moves surpassed her novice skill.
With a satisfied expression, Doyle stabbed the sword at her. She stepped back to avoid its tip, but her heel hit something on the floor. She fell backward, dropping her sword so her hands could support her imminent fall to the ground. With the grating of metal against wood, her weapon skidded away as her rear end hit the floorboards. Her legs lay over Sir Heath’s motionless body.
She could hear movement in Roland’s room as Doyle advanced on her. She rolled onto her side to grab at her sword, but it was several feet out of reach. Doyle placed his boot on her shoulder and rolled her onto her back. Placing his sword tip at the base of her neck, he pressed it in just enough to keep her from moving lest it pierce her.