by Wend Petzler
"Well past the fifth hour. If we take our time, we can be there before the dinner hour."
"Any word from Derrick?” She accepted the heavy cloak Anne slipped about her shoulders, fastening it with a simple silver brooch.
"Do not worry about Derrick, he has never failed me. I cannot imagine today any different. Shall we go?” He offered his arm to her, smiling with supreme confidence.
Her expression remained worried as they strode downstairs and out to the courtyard where her horse waited beside Lucian's stallion.
"Where is everyone?” she asked, glancing around the courtyard, seeing only Lucian's company of knights and soldiers.
"Those who wished to join Robin have left, and the ones who are coming with us are hiding until the time is right to leave. I must say, I was surprised only fifty wish to leave England.” Lucian lifted Eiry easily up on her saddle, guiding her knee around the saddle horn, helping her adjust her long skirts. “Are you ready?” Lucian knew they were risking their necks by attending the feast, especially with Louie's whereabouts unknown. Had the young man really informed Robert of Eiry's secret identity?
"Where is my bow?” She felt naked without it.
George stepped forward, carrying the magnificent weapon in one hand and the leather quiver of arrows in the other, attaching them behind his saddle. “I'll keep them safe for you, my lady."
Apprehensive about being without her weapons, she watched Lucian swing up on his horse, arranging his cloak over his horse's rump. Twenty knights in full armor urged their warhorses behind them in paired formation. “I am relieved we will have adequate protection."
Lucian wore a roguish grin, the wind lifted wisps of his long, jet-black hair about his handsome face. “We go to Peveril Castle with enough strength to show the sheriff and Prince John I am not a man to be trifled with. As soon as is politely possible, we leave and ride away as fast as our horses will carry us."
"We leave after the feast?” Eiry gasped, frowning at the whirling turn of events. “Who will keep Lilia?"
"Lilia will ride in the wagon with Anne and her children. They are leaving with George in an hour with the rest of my men guarding them. Come, we need to go and get this over with.” Lucian set his spurs to his horse, riding out the gate with Eiry and his knights following behind.
She felt a sudden loss. Looking over her shoulder at the small castle, a pang of regret stabbed her at not being able to save her parents’ dream. The heavy wooden gate slammed shut behind them, closing a chapter on her life. Would she live to see another chapter open?
Shaking off the gloomy thoughts, Eiry centered her attention on Lucian's broad back, urging Angel to catch up with him. He flashed a sinfully, sexy smile at her, making her heart melt from the sheer beauty of it. It never ceased to amaze her how startling his transformation was, his tanned features brightened with each smile he cast at her and her family. If anymore possible, Eiry felt her love for the scarred knight grow, the warm feeling making her feel safe and content just to be in his company.
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Chapter Sixteen
Dressed in a snug, silk tunic of loud ginger and velvet hose of canary yellow, John anxiously paced the elegant study, his eager feet crushing the Persian carpets. Impatiently awaiting the feast and their little surprise, he was almost giddy, thinking about what was to unfold upon Martine and the peasant girl, Eiry.
"What time do you think they will arrive?” John directed his question to Robert when he and his sister entered the library. Sparing a quick look at Beatrice, John stared, his mouth watering, viewing the bounteous beauty of her ample bosom straining against the clinging material of the red velvet gown she wore. Eyes bulging, his expression lusty, he failed to notice Beatrice's troubled expression.
Seeking her brother's intervention, Beatrice was relieved when Robert stepped in front of her, forcing John to look at him instead of her bosom.
"Your Highness, my men sighted Martine and his entourage not far from the castle. You have not long to wait."
"I hate waiting! I want action.” Irritated, he stomped around, peevish at the delays to his little party.
Trying to keep calm in light of the Prince's lack of restraint, Robert poured a fresh cup of wine, meeting his sister's hostile glare. Knowing she was still miffed at what happened with the hooded riders, Beatrice's scare from the attack left her in a foul mood toward him. He was heartened when she turned the conversation to one which John adored, besides bedding women.
"Your Highness, I understand you had a successful day with the hunt?” Beatrice purred, attempting to soothe the Prince's ruffled feathers. Despite her wrecked morning, she was in heaven playing hostess to the most powerful men in England. King Richard's own Regent, William Brewer, the Great Judge, was attending the feast in Prince John's honor. News of Richard's capture was spreading like wildfire. She knew without a doubt that alliances would be formed tonight. Robert was the master brewer in the traitorous dealings to persuade the barons in siding with Prince John over his brother, the rightful ruler of England.
Puffing up like a preening rooster, John beamed, “Oh, my dear, you missed a wonderful hunt! The deer were as large as a horse and just as swift, but my arrows were true to their mark! I believe the last count was twenty. Was it not, Robert?"
Hiding an amused smile behind his cup, he nodded. “Sire, I believe the count was higher than twenty. Closer to thirty I believe it was."
"See! What a delightful adventure. We really must plan another hunt tomorrow. I'd love to try my hand again and see if I can break my record."
"Let us see how the night turns with Martine. If all goes as planned, it will be my pleasure to announce another hunt.” Facing Beatrice, “Dear sister, has my lovely wife arrived?” Robert asked, not really caring where his wife was.
"I do believe dear Margaret arrived shortly after lunch and is ensuring the feast goes without a hitch. She appears to be making quite a few friends, including Lord Brewer and the Border Barons’ wives."
"Well, at least she has proven to be useful beyond securing me an earldom."
Margaret Peverel had convinced Richard before he left on the Crusades to reinstate Peveril Castle, titles, and land back to her after her father, William Peverel, was executed for murdering a rival earl. She could be quite persuasive when she set her mind to what she wanted. To his astonishment, he fell for her sweet charms until he became bored with her demands of loyalty. Besides, she could never stomach his little games played on the flesh of unwilling women. The sweet delight of tormenting soft, white, quivering flesh as his victims screamed in painful agony made his manhood swell.
Confident, he would have his fun with Eiry's sensual body later and see his lust's complete consummation. The burning ache in his loins went beyond anything he'd known possible. Robert thought of nothing else than to possess Eiry and ease his lust upon her in many perverse and tortured ways. With the information Louie recently imparted, the girl's arrest meant they were able to keep her for as long as he desired. It matter not the deal he agreed with Louie. The boy could have Eiry after he was finished with her.
Finding he needed a diversion, Robert watched the belly dancers sway, shaking their voluptuous bodies in rhythm to the exotic music played by turbaned men with black beards. Horns outside the castle blew, announcing the next arrival. Robert and John hurried over to the glass pane windows to see who it was. At first all they saw were the square-shaped wagons, designed for rich passengers, drawn by horses of fine quality lining the narrow road leading up to Peveril Castle. When they saw the riders, they both grew alarmed. Lucian Martine rode with twenty fully armored knights and an elegantly dressed young woman on board an exceptionally looking bay mare. The magnificent-looking knight swung off his warhorse, glancing briefly at the gawkers before reaching up to pluck the woman from her horse. The serving girl had amazing transformed into a beauty beyond compare. And when she looked at the castle, in a single, heart-stopping moment, the flash of silver in her wide, intelligent eyes
made Prince John gasp in fright.
"Christ Jesu! You told me the girl was just a nanny. Don't you see Sir Thomas Savoy written all over her?” John croaked, backing away from the window, afraid. He had known Thomas all his life—he would recognize that singular trait of the Savoy anywhere! The eyes.
Frowning at what the Prince was babbling about, Robert got his first real look at the young woman accompanying Martine. When she looked right at him, he blanched at the way her silvery-gray eyes burned into him, promising vengeance for the murder of her parents. Eiry was no peasant—she really was a Savoy! How did he miss such a notable trait inherent to the Savoy family? Had his lust blinded him to the obvious facts before him all along? Forcibly calming down, Robert remembered his trump card.
Trying to allay Prince John's fear of being caught, or worse, confronted with his villainous part in the Savoy murder, he smiled confidently. “Do not worry, I plan to take care of Lady Eiry tonight. It appears she has led a double life, one of ill-repute. Trust me, I will not allow our plans to crumble, not when we are so close to placing you on the throne,” Robert assured the nervous man.
Sweating profusely, John muttered under his breath, “Richard is going to kill me when he finds out what I've done in his absence!” His eyes focused again on Robert. “You'd better take care of the girl! I've got barons who seek any reason to bolt, fearful Richard will hear about our meeting, even if he is a prisoner in Austria. I want no surprises tonight,” John snarled.
Storming out of the study, he hurried to greet Martine and his companion, a woman whose mere presence could spoil his plans to become the next King of England. The barons would flee his side if they ever found out what he'd ordered done to the Crusaders come home from the Holy Land. Or the deed Robert committed upon the honorable Sir Thomas Savoy and his family to get the castle and the treasure under it.
Beatrice, who was watching the entire conversation with amusement, stepped forward. “It appears, dear brother, Eiry proved to be much more than you first presumed. If she is Lady Thief, she has proof of you ordering her parents’ deaths, does she not?"
Scowling at her, Robert growled, “I did not do the deed. She will blame another."
"It matters not. She will try to kill you, then the man who shot the final arrow into Savoy's heart. This makes for a small inconvenience in your plans to enjoy her shapely body at your leisure. She will need to be hanged quickly to prevent an uprising with the villagers. Remember our newest threat, Robin Hood and his Foresters?"
Robert tried to hide his anxiety as he strode past Beatrice, glaring at her for pointing out the obvious.
She felt a certain pity for her brother. If he thought he could take Eiry away from Lucian Martine, he was seriously mistaken. Taking her time, Beatrice followed, apprehensive how the evening was unfolding. William Brewer was expressing an open interest in Sanctuary, if it was unoccupied. If Martine was made to look he was harboring fugitives, Lady Thief in particular, his lands were forfeit and could be sold to the Great Judge. The evening definitely proved to be entertaining, she thought, her attention settled on a gorgeous, young lord whose interest was mutual. He did not compare to Lucian in any way, shape or form, he did, however, have the advantage of not lusting after Eiry Savoy.
* * * *
Lucian tucked Eiry's trembling hand in the curve of his arm. Checking to make sure four of his knights followed while the remaining sixteen stayed with the horses, ready to come to their aid, if trouble arose. Staring at Eiry, Lucian grew amazed at how stunning she looked, regal as any queen. With a jolt, he remembered she was a Welsh princess, not an ordinary servant. Pride filled him by her demure manner, her golden skin warmed in the light provided by hundreds of candles lit in the great hall.
His attention whipped back to the present, despite being surrounded by noblemen, their situation was as dangerous as if they were on a battlefield. The difference was the enemy was easier to recognize in a fight.
In an impressive, booming voice, the doorman announced their arrival.
* * * *
Louie downed his drink in a single gulp, fighting the fear clawing at his throat. In a fine gown, her hair covered as was proper for a noblewoman, Eiry stood beside Martine, her hand resting upon the knight's armored arm, looking amazing. Her gaze swept the interior of the rustic chamber, searching for familiar faces. When she found him, he realized with a lead heart she knew the truth. In a single, darkening glance, Eiry conveyed her intentions—she was going to kill him. Seeking to escape the accusation in Eiry's eyes, he knew without a doubt if she were free to do so, she would have killed him dead on the spot. Hoping Lord Robert would keep his word, Louie planned to force her to marry him, if she did not want her sister taken away and raised by Prince John. If tonight's plans failed, he relished not the idea of constantly looking over his shoulder, knowing one day she'd sneak up on him and slit his throat whenever he let his guard down.
* * * *
A shout from Lucian's left startled Eiry. Prince John heartily shoved people out of his way, eager to take her hand. Trying hard not to cringe, she felt his squashy lips press wetly against her skin. Keeping a straight face was difficult. When she tried to draw back her hand, he refused to release her, leering at her.
"My dear child, you clean up quite pretty.” Prince John's eyes warmed considerably, his wandering gaze slid over Eiry's womanly attributes, making her nervous.
Giggling at the revulsion he was causing until Lucian stepped forward. Cold, black eyes flashed dangerously with murderous intent. He dropped Eiry's hand and took a nervous step back. When the scarred knight blinked, he released Prince John to the man's utter relief.
Uneasy, Prince John nervously grinned again and clapped his hands. “Welcome, welcome! I trust you came hungry. Dearest Robert has laid out a sumptuous feast."
"Your Highness, I see your hunt was a success.” Lucian grinned dangerously, daring the plump prince to stand any closer to Eiry. When John took another hesitant step back, he laughed softly at the nervous, shifty expression in the prince's muddy brown eyes.
"Perhaps another time, we will go together and hunt. As to the party, I feel you should be acquainted with your neighbors. Allow Robert to escort your companion while we chat with my barons.” Prince John smiled charmingly, blinking in disbelief when Lucian placed a staying hand on Eiry's shoulder.
"Eiry will remain by my side. You were saying?” Lucian indicated for John to continue, ignoring the look of dismay on Robert's face.
Grateful to Lucian's refusal to let her out of his sight, Eiry grew to regret her decision to come to the feast tonight. Disgusted by what she saw, Eiry grew sickened by the shocking display. Robert's guests lustfully romped about, exhibiting an appalling disregard for modesty or decor. Prince John introduced them to the most powerful men in England, diverting her briefly from the high pitch giggles of noblewomen who were openly fondled by leering, brightly dressed men. The nobles cared nothing of their actions or the food and wine wasted. The party grew wilder and their conduct shockingly immoral. Sickened by the sight, her skin crawled at the way Robert's hot eyes followed her or the disgusting way Beatrice licked her lips at the impressive figure Lucian made in his finery.
If Prince John took the crown, England would suffer as it never endured before under the worst of kings. He would bring England to her knees and leave her barren with his gluttony.
Lord be merciful, let us leave this cesspool soon, she silently prayed, hoping to find out quickly where her men were before she threw up at what she witnessed in Peveril Castle.
Once the introductions were over, Prince John left them. Robert indicated they were to take their seats at the raised dais. The amount of food set on the groaning tables alone was alarming to one accustomed to eating rations. Steaming platters of various species of sliced meat were placed alongside bowls of fresh fruit, desserts, breads, and sauces. The guests ate heartily without the food blessed by a priest, drinking wine as wild pagans. A beautiful woman Eiry had never seen bef
ore took a seat beside Robert, keeping her eyes downcast.
Lucian held a chair steady for Eiry to take her seat. A rumpled, young man far into his drink sat down beside her, attempted to caress her arm, trying to woo her. Cringing, she scooted closer to Lucian. Having seen her discomfort, Lucian reached over and grabbed the trespasser's hand, squeezing hard until the man cried out in agony.
"Keep your hands off my ward.” His words were softly spoken before tossing the offending hand away in disgust. His men stood menacingly behind them, making it abundantly clear to all who attended the party that Eiry was off limits.
Robert rose to his feet and loudly clapped his hands to gain the revelers attention. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you the first of our planned entertainment. Bring out the prisoners!” he shouted over the loud conversations.
Six men and three women were shoved into the hall, wearing shackles on their hands and feet. They shuffled in, bruised and battered, their features defeated until they saw Eiry dressed in such finery, accompanied by Lucian Martine. Confusion filled their eyes. A burly guard yanked hard on the chain binding them, causing several to fall painfully to their knees.
"Get up you filthy dogs!” William shouted, using a short whip across their slumped shoulders.
Eiry wanted to jump up and demand the bastard leave her friends alone. Feeling Lucian's strong hand wrap around hers, restraining her. Forcing herself to relax, she took a long drink of the red wine in her glass, needing the fortitude it might bring.
Robert grinned as his guests wildly clapped in approval, cheering his success in capturing the outlaws who caused so much trouble for the rich. “I present to you to the troublesome outlaws who will be hung for their crimes against the Crown. We have information leading us to more. Rest assured their reign of terror is over!"
One of the nobleman stood up, still worried about his wealth and properties in Derbyshire. “How are you so sure?"
"Because of the information imparted to me, we shall soon have Lady Thief in custody. With her capture, the band of outlaws will crumble and be easy pickings for my men,” Robert replied confidently.