The Herald's Heart

by Rue Allyn

  “Then she is wise beyond her years.”

  “I want to earn her trust, Mother Clement.”

  “Why?”

  “I ... I need her.”

  “The flowers need the rain, my son. Do they strive to earn the blessing of its fall?”

  “You speak in riddles, madam.” They neared the gate, and Talon remained uneasy.

  “No doubt it seems so to you. Think on what I have said. When you understand, you will have the answers you seek. Until then, be as the lilies of the field.”

  She held out her hand for his kiss.

  Talon knelt and made his obeisance, then stood.

  “Before we part, Mother Clement, tell me about the anchoress.”

  “What would you know, my son?”

  “Who it is that she fears. And why does she believe herself the instrument of God’s justice?”

  The abbess was silent for several moments. Just as Talon decided she would not answer, she spoke.

  “Years ago, when she was a novice at the abbey—not an anchoress—the earl was one of several men who found her alone in the woods.”

  “They hurt her?”

  “Deeply. Her mind was so damaged that only intense prayer saved her from death at her own hand.”

  Talon sucked in his breath. “Surely no woman of faith would commit so grievous a sin?”

  “We cannot know. But I have seen sorrow and shame turn strong men to self-murder.”

  The mention of murder made him pause. “No doubt she is right in believing herself to be God’s instrument, but do you think she did so deliberately?”

  Mother Clement jerked to a stop, as if suffering a great shock. “You cannot think that she intentionally created those poisonous candles.”

  Talon braced his legs and clasped his hands behind his back. “I don’t know what to think, Mother Clement. The earl was murdered. We know the instrument of his death. Of the people who had access to those candles, two, Father Timoras and Lady Larkin, have been proven innocent. I had not considered the anchoress, because, locked away as she is, I could not imagine how she would have gotten the itchweed.”

  “And now you think she somehow escaped her anchorage to gather poisonous weeds with which to murder a man she had good reason to hate.”

  “No. I think she asked someone she trusted to get those weeds for her. Someone who may not even have known why she wanted them.”

  “That is ridiculous.” The abbess snorted and strode toward the gate.

  “I don’t think so.” He hurried to keep up with her. “She must be tried in the king’s court.”

  “No.”

  “’Tis the only way to prove her innocence.”

  “No, I say.” The abbess turned on him with surprising vehemence. “Even were she able to be tried, as a holy woman, that duty would fall to a church court. Since she is dead to the world, God can be her only judge. Earthly kings and laws hold no sway over the dead.”

  “I doubt King Edward would see it that way. He takes a dim view of murder and a dimmer view of those who hide behind holiness to accomplish it.”

  “Then write to your king and ask him. Meanwhile, I will write to the archbishop and the pope. We will see if Edward Plantagenet wants to risk excommunication over the issue.”

  Talon couldn’t believe that one woman held sufficient influence to have the king of England excommunicated. But what if she did? What if he’d underestimated the abbess? Edward must be warned. Since he was needed here, Amis would have to go. Then Talon would do what he could to decipher Mother Clement’s advice and restore himself to Larkin’s good graces.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  As she descended to the caves, Larkin thought about the various ways the earl could protect the box from water damage. The best method was to keep it away from water. Were there passages that did not flood? Perhaps hidden by rock falls or with entrances as difficult for humans to access as it might be for the sea? In pursuit of such places, she wandered farther than she intended. But, truly, she could find the marriage box here, because, after wriggling her way up into an opening in the roof of an unexplored cavern, she discovered a cave that had no marks from the tide.

  She raised her lantern and peered into the narrow opening before her. Did the passage end here, or was there a chamber beyond? Perhaps the passage split again, like the three previous ones she’d explored before finding this unexpected hole. She would have to force her way in to find out what lay beyond. No matter what she found, ’twould be the last exploring she did this day.

  She walked forward, her shoulders brushing the rock on either side. Loose stone fell to the ground behind her, and small pebbles crushed underfoot. She emerged into a small cavern with three passages splitting off. ’Twas filled with rubble and natural ledges that faded into the darkness of the passages. ’Twould take hours to search this place.

  Off to one side, more stone scattered from roof to floor. The cave was none too stable. She’d best go for help. At the roof opening, she lowered her lantern to the floor first, then gripped the edge, and let herself down. As she lifted her lantern, the light increased oddly, and she found her way blocked by Baron Le Hourde.

  “How did you escape?”

  “The same way I managed to bar the passage door, to shoot arrows at you, and place gold in your pockets after pulling a wall down on top of you, all without being anywhere near this keep.”

  “Unless you had help, you make no sense.” Help was an absolute necessity, but who? And was that person near? She had a slim chance of escaping one assassin, but not two. Yet be it a hundred, she would not die without a fight, and heaven help her, if possible she would take every one of them with her.

  He smiled. “You’re not as stupid as most women. Yes, Cleve has been a great help to me, especially after I put his wife and child in the dungeon at Rosewood. I only fed them if he did my bidding.”

  “You are a madman.”

  “Like all women, you talk too much. I’ve a better use for your mouth.” He eyed her as a farmer might examine a prize cow. “You’re a bit older than I like, but then so was your mother.” He grinned.

  Never show fear. Larkin took a casual step to the side. “Did you like killing her?” Horrified that she could even ask such a question, she tried to keep her tone conversational and edged to the side again. Maybe, if she were very, very lucky, she could distract him until their positions were reversed.

  He mirrored her every move. “Nay. She died all on her own. I would have kept at her a lot longer if she’d had the courtesy to live, the bitch. But I did kill your father.”

  “Why?” She sidled toward the opening once more and resisted the urge to shield herself with her hands.

  “He insulted my liege lord. The earl should have punished him. Instead, the pious weakling locked himself in that chapel of his and prayed for God’s vengeance. As the earl’s loyal man, I did what he should have done. I’ve always done what the earl should have done. Though it took a while, I made sure Hawksedge rewarded me for my loyal service, or all would know that murder had been done in his name.”

  “What do you mean?” She nearly stumbled on fallen rock. If she could keep him talking and moving until he no longer barred her way, she had a chance to escape.

  “The earl didn’t kill his wives. Hell, he didn’t even swive them. I had to do that for him too. After we raped that nun, he turned monkish and resented the necessity of making an heir. He wanted to dedicate himself to God, and spent every possible moment on his knees.”

  Terror streaked down Larkin’s spine. “You raped and killed his wives?”

  “Aye.” He strutted as if proud of his accomplishments. “Those women weren’t worthy of the earl. Not after I’d been in their beds.”

  “Did they not tell the earl?” She felt the wall at her back and spied the edge of the exit from the cave.

  “The first one tried to turn him against me. He beat her for lying, but I did the rest. I always thought he was grateful that I’d done his work
for him.” Le Hourde smiled.

  “Why?” She echoed and crept to the left.

  “How should I know? But ’twas a treat to know the earl would have beat the others for the lying sluts they were.”

  She had to keep him talking. If he was talking, he wouldn’t attack her. “You could not know they were sluts.”

  “I know a slut when I see one. I’ve pleasured too many women not to know.” His grin broadened. “Aye, killed ’em with pleasure.”

  He was mad, and she had to get away. “You mean there were others besides the earl’s wives?” Behind her, the stone disappeared.

  His eyes narrowed, but the grin never left his face. “Enough. Lift your skirts. I’m tired of waiting.”

  She bunched her skirts in her free hand. The hand that carried her lantern tightened around the handle. The object was her only weapon.

  “That’s right, Lady Larkin. If you’re good, I’ll let you live long enough to see that bastard Talon once or twice before I kill him.”

  She raised her hem to her knees, hoping to lure him close enough to strike him with the lantern. “What if I tell him what you’ve done?”

  “He’ll never believe you. Too many folk know you for a liar, like all women. Liars and bitches who’ll spread their legs for any man.” Le Hourde stepped within a hand’s reach of her.

  “You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?” She sneered, as ready to defend herself as she ever would be.

  “You dare to mock me, whore!” His hand came up to slap her.

  Larkin dropped her skirts and deflected the blow while she swung the lantern at his head.

  Metal, glass, and hot oil hit their target with a loud crack. Le Hourde howled, dropped his lantern, and staggered into her.

  “Bitch. I’ll take you in the dark.” His hands ripped at her gown.

  “Nay.” She clawed at his face.

  He gripped her throat in one hand, the other fumbled at his waist.

  Larkin kicked at him and pried his fingers loose.

  “I’ll kill you, but not until I fuck you first.”

  She turned, falling as much as running into the opening. Pain scored her from behind, and she stumbled over a rock, landing on her bottom.

  “Where are you, bitch?”

  Larkin stood, picking up the rock and holding it over her head. “Here,” she gasped, hoping that she faced the opening Le Hourde would come through.

  She heard him pant. He was behind her. She whirled.

  “So you decided to cooperate. I thought my blade might persuade you.”

  The pain in her back threatened to undo her. “Aye,” she grunted. He had to come closer.

  She felt his breath on her cheek.

  “Well, here’s some more persuasion.”

  She brought the rock down on his skull at the same time that he sank his dagger into her shoulder. White-hot agony seared through her.

  The blade and Larkin struck a second time, but she was beyond feeling. She struck once more. Le Hourde crumpled to her feet. The dagger pulled from her shoulder and clattered against the stones.

  She slumped, dropping the rock, and climbed past Le Hourde into the next cavern. Had she killed him or merely knocked him out? Better to run fast and far than to linger. But how to find her way in the dark? Which direction led back to the main passage between the sea and the keep? She couldn’t recall. Pain increased her confusion. “Holy Virgin, help me find my path.”

  She stumbled across the cavern into solid wall, bruising her face and other shoulder. She felt along the stone until she came to an opening. Praying that she’d found the right one, she followed the narrow passage until it widened.

  In complete darkness, she had no idea if she was any closer to the keep. Her wounds made her dizzy, and she had to stop often to rest. Just as often she heard the fall of rock both before and behind. She could wander the caves for days until she died. Nature would do Le Hourde’s work for him. Surely someone would miss her. The guard at the cavern door if no one else.

  She was so very tired. She had to find a safe place to wait to be found. Le Hourde was still too close. She didn’t think she’d killed him, and she could not risk him finding her. Just a bit farther. Put two more turns between yourself and that madman. She prayed that her strength would last.

  She made one turn, then came to a sharp split in the passageway. Uttering another prayer for guidance, she took the left passage. She regretted her choice, for more rocks littered the ground here than she’d yet encountered. She was about to turn around when the ceiling rumbled and rock rained around her. She threw herself to the side and curled her head toward her knees, letting the stones batter her back.

  How long the rocks continued to fall she could not tell. When they stopped, she tried to move and discovered herself imprisoned. Had she escaped murder only to die in a rocky grave? Would she bleed to death or suffocate from lack of air? Pain throbbed with every thought. Living hurt. Perhaps it hurt less to die. She did not want to pass from this life, she had so much left to do. She had to tell Talon he was right. Their trust problems could be worked out.

  • • •

  Amis had agreed to take Talon’s messages to the king, but Talon had not wanted to wait to write the missives at Rosewood. He needed to see Larkin and assure himself that he still had a chance to persuade her of his trust. Despite urging every bit of speed from their mounts, Talon and Amis arrived after dark.

  They galloped into the bailey. Talon leapt from his lathered mount and rushed the stairs to the great hall. “Cleve!”

  They found the guard captain too busy shouting at a guardsman to hear Talon’s command.

  “You idiot’s spawn. Do you not know how to obey orders? I’ll see you hung by your balls for this foolishness.”

  “But I’m the one who released you after Baron Le Hourde escaped and locked you in the dungeon.”

  “And by searching for me, you let Lady Larkin go into the caves alone.”

  “What goes here?” Talon finally got his man’s attention.

  “This addlepate thought he should get permission before denying Lady Larkin entrance into the caves, and with the baron free to pursue her.”

  “How was I to know you’d lost him?” the guardsman protested.

  “How long has she been gone?” Talon would worry about Cleve’s story later. If Le Hourde was free, finding Larkin was paramount.

  “H ... half a day, sir,” the terrified man stuttered.

  “And why did it take you so long to find me?” Cleve asked.

  “I was ordered to guard the door and could not leave my post.”

  Cleve groaned.

  “Never mind that. Where did the lady go?” Talon grasped the guard by the shoulder and restrained the urge to choke the man.

  “I ... I don’t know, Sir Talon. She said she only had a little way to go. That getting an escort would take too much time.”

  “Didn’t you at least watch which way she turned?”

  “I did, sir, truly I did, but I forgot.”

  He could not waste more time questioning a man too terrified to know his own name, let alone any clue to Larkin’s whereabouts. Talon turned to Cleve. “Gather the men with all the torches and lanterns you can find. Meet me at the door to the caves. Bring chalk and string. A great deal of both.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “Amis, take that torch and follow me.” He was halfway to the hidden stairs before Amis lifted the flame.

  Talon clattered down the hidden staircase that led to the caves. Praise heaven, the tide was out. Finding Larkin shouldn’t be that difficult if she was still here. He refused to consider that she might have left, or worse, been stolen from him.

  How many caverns and tunnels had he and Larkin missed before becoming trapped by the tide? And how would he find them now? Were those unexplored passages deeper than the shallow few they’d examined? He couldn’t believe any unexplored pathways would be extensive. If they were, the chances of finding Larkin approached infinity.
Even if the caves were all shallow, the problem was that there were so very many of them. He pulled to a halt at the first intersection.

  Multiple footsteps sounded behind him. He turned and looked into the faces of the men he’d begun to think of as his—could see the panic he felt as clearly as he could see the worry writ on their brows. Amis nodded somberly.

  “I want all men going by twos,” he ordered. “The first pair starts here, with a pair taking each new passage as we come to it. Mark your steps with twine and each cave entrance with an X. I don’t want anyone else getting lost. When you reach the end of your tunnel, return to this main passage and wait. Guard the entrance and allow no one in or out without my leave. If—no, when—Lady Larkin is found, leave one man to escort her out and send the other running to find me. Do you all understand?”

  Nods and murmurs came from the men crowded into the narrow tunnel.

  Talon turned to enter the first passage, but Amis’s voice halted him.

  “Talon,” he spoke gently. “What if we find someone else? And what if Larkin is injured?”

  Talon turned back to the men. “Anyone else found in the caves will be held for questioning. Is that clear?”

  Again the men nodded.

  Talon swallowed. He couldn’t bring himself to contemplate the likelihood that Larkin was hurt—or worse. “If anyone is found injured, send one man back to find me or Sir Amis. Any other questions?”

  No one spoke.

  “The let’s get on with it. A handsome reward goes to the men who find Lady Larkin and bring her to me.”

  The men rushed into the caves, but Talon was headed down his chosen passageway and had to rely on their cheers to confirm their increased enthusiasm for the search.

  He trod as quickly as possible, nearly outdistancing the light cast by Amis’s torch.

  “Slow down, Talon.”

  “No!” He threw the word over his shoulder.

  “’Twill do Lady Larkin no good if you bypass a side tunnel that she may have taken or trip and hurt yourself because you could not see well enough to watch your steps.”

  Everything in him urged him to hurry. But Amis was right. He had to be certain that he searched every bend and hollow in this tangle of caves, and he had to be physically able to help Larkin if she needed it. Pray God she would not.