Paulina was left atop the tethered donkey, ignored, watching the placid animal’s ears twitch away flies.
When they emerged, Letyce’s hair and clothing was dishevelled, the pout replaced by a sultry grin.
Malraux constantly complained of their slow pace as he swaggered back to his mount, yet, every hour or two, the scene would be repeated as he and Letyce disappeared into the bushes.
They were rutting dogs, Paulina thought with disgust, but their appetites might provide her only opportunity for escape.
They had been on the road for hours. Paulina was exhausted and barely heard Letyce ask her usual question. Her heart fell as she contemplated another wait while the fools fornicated. She narrowed her eyes in the fading light and in the distance saw the outline of a large castle atop a promontory. It seemed to be flanked by orchards of some kind.
Malraux dismounted, but came to her instead of Letyce. Fear beat a tattoo in her throat. Surely he did not intend to touch her inappropriately? Letyce would tear her apart. He untied her wrists, and put his hands on her waist to lift her down. She beat at his chest, her hands fisted.
He laughed. “What a ferocious little chit you are. Don’t worry; you’re too small for my tastes. We will camp here. Make yourself useful and gather wood for a fire, while Letyce and I entertain each other. It will be a delicious irony for her since yonder is the demesne of the mighty Montbryces.”
Fear and elation swirled in Paulina’s heart. They were within sight of Montbryce Castle, stronghold of the Comte de Montbryce, Adam’s cousin, Robert! Here was her opportunity, but was she courageous enough to seize it? Malraux evidently judged her too much of a coward to attempt an escape.
Rubbing her wrists, she searched for firewood, all the while watching the Breton and a simpering Letyce saunter off, his hand on her derrière.
She looked over to where Malraux had tethered the animals. Impatient for his tryst, he had not removed the saddles. Soufflette turned one sad brown eye to her. Should she attempt escape on the donkey? Would the animal obey her, or balk, sensing her fear? She had heard Soufflette bray. It was enough to wake the dead and would surely bring Malraux running. In any case, the baggage would make a speedy ride impossible.
Letyce’s palfrey stood next to the donkey. If she reached the stirrup and clambered onto the horse, how would she get it to go where she wanted? She closed her eyes, her knees trembling. “Rosa, if only you were here.”
A vision sprang into her memory; Rosamunda, laughing confidently atop Nox the first time she had ever sat a horse. What made her sister a horsewoman?
She shows no fear.
Paulina’s eyes flitted to the only other mount, Malraux’s enormous gelding. Not an option. It had to be the palfrey. She took a deep breath, dropped the kindling she had gathered, and strode over to the horse, brushing dirt from her hands.
The forlorn look in Soufflette’s eyes undid her. She stopped a moment to kiss the donkey’s nose and rub her ears. It came to her then, like a thunderbolt, that she was not afraid of Soufflette.
This gave her courage. Willing her hands not to shake, she untied the palfrey’s tether. The animal shifted, making it difficult to get her foot in the stirrup. She prayed the donkey would not sound the alarm.
Moans of pleasure drifted from the bushes. The palfrey’s ears pricked up. Paulina hung on to the saddle for dear life, but the animal refused to stand still. The gelding shifted nervously. Sweat trickled down Paulina’s spine. The lovebirds would soon return.
She looked the horse in the eye, pointed a rigid finger at it, and whispered through gritted teeth, “Be still.”
To her surprise, the horse obeyed. Her foot slipped into the stirrup just as she feared her hipbone might break. She struggled to lie belly down on the saddle, then swung her leg over. She tightened her grip on the reins, dug in her calves, and turned the horse in the direction of the castle.
~~~
Paulina would not later recall much of the ride, except the mind-numbing terror of it. Her feet dangled above the stirrups. The horse seemed determined to go in a direction that would take her past her goal by a mile. She dared not turn around to look behind, but there was no mistaking the sounds of a horse in hot pursuit.
Malraux!
He yelled curses and threats. She curled her body lower, clinging to the mane, willing the horse to make for the safety of the castle.
She would never know if it was someone lighting torches on the battlements to dispel the gathering darkness that caught the horse’s attention, or if it sensed the presence of other animals. In any event, the palfrey changed its course, headed straight for the castle’s walls.
She remembered Malraux’s caution that guards would be on the watch for intruders. How to make them see she was not a threat. Screaming seemed a good idea. She took a deep breath and let out a high pitched wail. It startled the horse into galloping faster. If she fell now—
Her cloak billowed like a flapping sail, and suddenly it was gone, torn away by the cold wind that had already numbed her face into a grimace.
The castle gate loomed up. It was shut. Unless the horse stopped of its own accord, she would be dashed to pieces against the thick wood.
Suddenly the gate crashed open. Horses spilled out, riding towards her. Perhaps they thought it was an attack and had come to thwart her advance. Could they not see she was a woman, a tiny one at that?
Her screams echoed in her ears as she bellowed the first thing that came into her head. “Sancerre! Sancerre! Sancerre!”
~~~
Robert de Montbryce was inspecting the guard on the battlements when he was alerted to the incoming rider. He ordered the torches lit earlier than usual. “Whoever it is approaches at great speed,” he said to his Steward.
Squinting into the gloom of dusk, it was difficult to make out who the rider was. He had flattened his body to the horse, and rode as if the hounds of hell pursued him. As the rider came nearer, Robert gasped. “It’s a child.”
Then another rider, a man, came into view. Robert cupped his hands to his mouth and yelled out an order to the riders waiting below. “It’s a child seeking sanctuary. Ride out to provide safe passage. Another rider is in pursuit.”
From his vantage point he watched the drama unfold. His men-at-arms rode out towards the boy. The rider in pursuit reined his horse to a halt. The boy came on at speed, shrieking something. It sounded like Saint Cyr. Why would the lad be—
He gripped his Steward’s arm. “Dieu! Can it be Denis’ betrothed, the kidnapped girl of the message brought by pigeon? She has saved us the trouble of rescuing her!”
The pursuing rider directed his mount to where the lost cloak lay. He dismounted quickly, picked it up, then rode away at a gallop.
One of Robert’s outriders grasped the reins of the incoming horse and slowed it to a trot. The woman slumped forward as her mount was led through the gate. Robert hastened down from the battlements to lift her from the snorting horse.
She was tiny! He cradled her in his arms as she sobbed. “You’re safe now. I am Robert de Montbryce.”
Then it occurred to him she was not from Normandie and might not understand his language, so he reassured her in Anglo-Norman. She seemed unable to speak. He carried her into the Keep, where Dorianne waited, having been alerted by the Steward.
Robert placed Paulina in the Seigneur’s chair by the fire in the Hall. The warmth seemed to rally her. A shudder tore through her body. “I was abducted. I am Paulina Lallement. I am betrothed to Denis de Sancerre.”
Dorianne smiled. “Welcome, Paulina. I am Dorianne de Montbryce. We received a message and have been preparing men to ride to your rescue. Now you can rest and we will send a message to Denis that you are safe.”
Paulina gripped the arms of the chair. “No, my abductor plans to lure Denis to his estates. I don’t know where his lands are, but we must find out. Your cousin, Adam, is probably with Denis. You resemble him.”
Robert chuckled, but then frowned. �
��Who is your abductor?”
“Malraux de Carnac.”
“Carnac! In Bretagne? Why did he kidnap you?”
Paulina smoothed her dishevelled hair off her face. “Because I am a dwarf.” She took a deep breath. “I believe he has some evil intent that has to do with All Hallows’ Eve.”
Robert nodded thoughtfully, but Dorianne gasped. A maidservant entered with tumblers filled with golden liquid. Dorianne took two, offering one to Paulina. “It will chase away the chill and calm you.”
Paulina accepted the tumbler. “I have never drunk wine before.”
Robert smiled as he took a tumbler from the maidservant. “This is not wine. It’s a special apple brandy we make here at Montbryce. Sip it slowly.”
“Denis told me of your orchards. Never did I think to be sipping your brandy in the place it is made.”
Robert furrowed his brow. “Did you know you were near Montbryce Castle?”
~~~
Paulina related the tale of her escape, astonished as much as the Montbryces seemed to be by her courage. “It is the first time I have ridden a horse by myself,” she admitted quietly. “I am afraid of them.”
Robert hunkered down beside her chair. “It seems to me Denis has chosen well. You are a courageous woman. He is a lucky man.”
She felt her face redden as heat surged through her. “I have been a lifelong coward, afraid of exposure to the outside world. It is Denis who has given me courage by his example, by who he is. We must ride to prevent his capture.”
Dorianne came to her feet, cradling her swollen belly. “First you must rest from your ordeal. We will find you clean clothes. My daughter is still a babe, but there are others we can turn to. A chamber is being readied, and a bath prepared.”
Paulina inhaled deeply. “I thank you. Adam and Denis have boasted of the nobility of their family, and I understand why.”
Robert hesitated. “How fares Adam?”
Paulina smiled, not sure how much to reveal of the quarrel with Adam. “He seems well enough. He is betrothed to my sister, Rosamunda.”
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
The other men had a right to their opinions, but Denis had grown increasingly weary of the argument raging now over how they should proceed to Carnac. He had made up his mind after another talk with the Breton captain. He pointed to the water. “I intend to go by sea to Carnac.”
Adam groaned.
Denis persisted. He held up three fingers. “Overland will take us three days, in unknown territory. Our captain assures me it is impossible to get lost if we hug the coastline. He will lend us two of his men and yon sturdy boat.”
Vincent protested. “We can’t take the horses in that.”
Denis looked over sadly at Brevis. Adam too would be distraught at the loss of Nox. “I propose a solution. We cannot all fit in the boat. Guillaume de Terrence, Lucien, Vincent, and the men at arms will take the overland route with the horses. Adam, Rosamunda, and I will go by sea, which will save us two days. We will rendezvous in Carnac, then make our way back through Normandie to Belisle.”
Vincent shook his head. “Lucien can go with the horses. I am coming with you. Paulina is my sister.”
Recognising further argument would waste more time, Denis agreed. “Are we as one mind, then?” he asked Adam.
Adam hesitated, but Rosamunda laid a hand on his arm. Adam shrugged. “I am loath to leave Nox, but you are right.”
Denis’ heart was heavy as the Breton sailors pushed off the boat and clambered aboard. Adam could not conceal his distress at leaving Nox behind. Denis sensed his brother might never forgive him if he and the stallion were not reunited. He hoped he had made the right decision.
~~~
Adam cuddled Rosamunda close to his heart as the Bretons rowed them past miles of rugged coastline. His gut had been in knots watching Nox stomp the ground and throw his head back in a snort of protest as they left the harbour at Rosko. Denis had said nothing about Brevis, but Adam knew his brother felt the loss of his mount keenly.
Brevis had been a treasured find, a horse small enough for Denis, but with a courageous heart.
Rosamunda had been sad to leave Lux. But her tears had been for Lucien.
Denis kept his face to the wind, his swarthy features twisted into a grim mask of determination.
How to comfort him? Adam laid a hand on his brother’s rigid shoulder. “This was the right decision. Time is of the essence. All Hallows’ Eve is only two days hence.”
~~~
After several hours, the oarsmen were tiring visibly. Adam and Vincent took their places. Denis moved to Rosamunda’s side and reached his arm around her shoulders. “Lean on me, sister, we will bring each other warmth and comfort.”
She was grateful for his kindness in the midst of his grief and worry. She had felt the loss of Adam’s heat.
Adam smiled at her as he rowed. His powerful arms made the exercise look easy. She became rapt in the rhythm of his movements as he pulled the oars to his broad chest then leaned forward to gather strength again, his long legs braced in the boat. As night fell, the Bretons directed them into shore. They camped in a wood. Exhaustion soon claimed her and she fell asleep in Adam’s strong arms, cradled in the security of his embrace.
She seemed to have just fallen asleep when Adam gently shook her awake. “It’s dawn, we must move on.”
She rubbed her eyes, gathering the blanket more tightly around her shoulders. She shivered as a brisk wind buffeted her.
Denis stood on the rocky shore with the Bretons. She followed their gaze out to the choppy waves. “Not a good day to be on the water,” Denis grunted.
~~~
Within minutes of setting out, everyone in the boat was drenched to the skin. The Bretons advised pulling further out from shore in an effort to find calmer waters. Adam feared someone might get swept overboard in the rolling swells as the oarsmen struggled to make headway. He and Vincent wedged a shivering Rosamunda between them.
The gentle drizzle that had begun on shore turned into a torrential downpour. Denis untied the cord controlling the rudder from the foot of one of the oarsmen and moved to the stern of the boat, grasping the tiller.
Suddenly, after what seemed like hours of rowing in place, land loomed before them. Denis pointed and yelled. Adam hoped it was the Quiberon Peninsula that the Bretons had told them protected Carnac from the sea. Once around its tip they would be in more sheltered waters.
“Quiberon?” died on his lips as an enormous swell picked up the boat and overturned it, casting them into the roiling waves.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Letyce Revandel squinted into the pounding rain to make out the outline of Carnac Castle. Much as she longed to be dry and warm, she dreaded entering Malraux’s demesne.
Since the dwarf’s escape, the Breton had treated her cruelly, blaming her for the loss of his intended plaything. He had offered her no covering for warmth, save Paulina’s inadequate cloak.
He had disdained her attempts to placate him with sexual advances, and threatened to toss her from Le Manio if no suitable replacement was found. She cursed the day she had accompanied him on this mad excursion.
It was not her fault the dwarf had escaped. Blame instead his rapacious appetite for intercourse. However, he was not a man to be reasonable when angered. She shrank from his touch, now sensing great evil in him.
If she wanted to avoid death she would have to escape, or find a replacement for Paulina. She doubted there were many dwarfs in the vicinity. The heavy rain might provide enough cover for an escape. Malraux was far enough ahead he would not notice her absence for a few minutes.
Turning the donkey, she urged it to a trot, heedless of the danger of the animal losing its footing in the muddied terrain, and having no idea where she was headed.
~~~
Malraux did not turn when he heard Letyce flee. “With any luck the bitch will fall off the donkey and break her neck. Sadly, such a fate would deprive me of the pleasure o
f seeing her dangle from the top of Le Manio.”
He yawned as he rode through the gate of his estate, patting his horse. “Feels good to be home, eh boy?”
A stable boy rushed to take the reins as he dismounted. His Steward appeared, adjusting his half fastened doublet, shoulders hunched against the downpour.
Malraux scowled. “Roget, my travelling companion appears to have become lost. Send out a search party for her on the morrow, if the weather improves. Is everything in readiness for All Hallows’ Eve?”
Roget flinched. “Not quite everything, milord.”
Malraux braced his legs, hands on hips. “At least assure me the scaffolding has been erected.”
“Most of it,” Roget stammered.
Only a day left to complete preparations. Heads would roll if everything was not ready in time. “Forget the search party for the woman. Too much to do. We will need all hands.”
Roget bowed low.
~~~
Letyce wanted to scream when the donkey shied, almost throwing her off. Trembling, she dismounted, trying to calm the braying beast. As the first gray light of dawn streaked the sky, her knees buckled as she became aware she teetered on the edge of a cliff overlooking the sea.
Gingerly she peered over. Another few moments and she would have been dashed to pieces on the rocks below. The pounding surf drew her gaze as her belly twisted beneath her ribs.
Her eyes fixed on an object on the side of one of the rocks. It looked like a person. Indeed, it was a person—a woman. Perhaps from a shipwreck?
Indecision plagued her. Let the woman fend for herself. Letyce feared injury clambering down to aid her. If the woman was badly hurt, how to bring her up from the shore?
She looked at the donkey. It had stopped braying and had one soulful eye turned to her. Letyce glanced about, looking for a path to the beach. “You want me to rescue her, don’t you, dumb beast?”
Now she was talking to a donkey! Could madness be far behind? But one of her words stuck in her head.
Haunted Knights (Montbryce~The Next Generation Historical Romance) Page 18