“Pull now!” Hubert bellowed.
Slowly, they hauled Micah back to solid earth. He sagged against his comrades. “Hubert, your timing is impeccable.”
“It is a gift from Providence I heard you. I thought the huntsman tossed you over the edge.” He sucked in his breath. “You are bleeding badly.”
Micah heard the sound of tearing cloth and Hubert tied the fabric around his wound. He bit back a violent oath. “My arm is broken.”
“Aye,” Hubert said tightly. “I must slow the bleeding and then I will splint your arm.”
“The raiders?”
“Defeated but the huntsman escaped.”
“We must return to Appleby.”
“Aye.” Hubert finished binding his wounds and gripped his hand. “The bone has pierced the skin. I must align it or Lady Kate will have my head.”
“Here, Baron,” Sir Thomas said and brandished a small stick.
Micah opened his mouth and bit down on the cold wood.
Hubert jerked on Micah’s arm. Torment roared through him and his vision went black. His teeth dug into the wood. Pain coursed through his being and Micah spat the stick from his mouth. Hubert set a splint on the limb and devised a sling.
Thomas hauled him into a sitting position and Micah’s vision swam. In an effort to push back the blackness, Micah again focused on Hubert. “How do we stand?”
“Quite well considering,” Hubert said, finishing the sling which cradled Micah’s arm to his chest. “Three dead, five wounded.”
“We ride for Appleby now.”
“Baron, your arm must be tended.”
“We have no time,” Micah snapped, struggling to his feet. “And Kate is the only one I trust to look after this wound properly.” He paused and spotted the plain weapon Robert had used in the snow. “Hubert, give me that blade.”
“Pardon?”
“The sod took my father’s sword. My uncle bequeathed it to me on my knighting.”
Hubert fetched the weapon. “Stealing another man’s blade is akin to stealing his lady,” he muttered.
“Aye,” Micah said through clenched teeth. “And I plan to retrieve both. We must ride, now!”
***
The door opened and Kate pulled herself to her feet.
“Nay, lady,” Evan said, stepping through. “I’ve come only to guard you.”
She nodded, trying to fight the dizziness away. The sounds of battle rang through the keep and her heart plummeted. MacLeary had breached the defenses. His forces now battled to take control of the keep. Had Hubert reached Micah or had the trap been sprung? Kate knew Micah would have returned if at all possible but there was no sign of him.
Appleby Castle would fall again.
The clash of swords resounded in the corridor. Evan stiffened. “Lady, in the corner please.”
Kate lurched toward the nearest corner, praying for a miracle. She pulled her cloak around her old woolen dress. She wore the warmest, sturdiest clothes she owned. Perhaps she might get the chance to flee.
The door rattled as someone kicked it. On the third kick, the bolt shattered and the door banged open. Laird Dougal MacLeary stepped through. His reddish blond hair flew wildly about his face and his long beard was woven into two war braids. Blood soaked his plaid, the blood of Micah’s men. Kate fought down the urge to leap at him and slash his eyes. Her hands curled claw–like.
MacLeary’s gaze fell on her for a brief moment. “Ah, waitin’ for me are ye?”
Evan stepped forward. “As a matter of fact I am. So kind of you to inquire.”
MacLeary’s expression turned flat. He brought his huge claymore on guard. “Sorry, laddie, but I fear ye are a mite too ugly for me.” He lunged, his claymore flashing.
Kate screamed in horror as Evan fell. Blood erupted from his chest, splashing the walls and floor. MacLeary wrested his sword from the knight’s body and turned to face Kate.
The source of her nightmares stood before her like a demon from hell. MacLeary smiled savagely as he reached for her. Kate lunged from her corner without conscious thought, the dagger Micah had given her flashing. She sliced MacLeary’s arm and skittered around him like a mouse avoiding a cat as he bellowed a curse. Kate bolted through the door, terror giving her wings, and slammed into an unyielding body. The dagger slipped from her fingers and clattered on the floor.
Hands seized her, dark eyes stared through her soul.
Stephan! Kate’s thoughts screamed.
Mortal terror clamped on her heart. Pain shot through her chest, numbing her arms. Kate tried to drag in a breath and failed.
Micah promised. He swore he would protect me. Terror ripped apart Kate’s heart. Grief and sorrow battered her.
Stephan smiled wickedly. “I’ve missed you, Lady Kate.”
Kate struggled suddenly and kicked. Her foot slammed into his shin. He recoiled and snapped a curse, backhanding her. Kate collapsed. Darkness spotted her vision but she remained aware enough that she knew Stephan hauled her into the great hall.
Surprisingly, Stephan tossed her into her chair on the dais. Briefly, her gaze slid over Micah’s empty seat.
“Where is that witch?” Stephan growled. “Marjorie, tend to yer lady.”
Kate blinked as Marjorie rushed forward. “Hold strong,” she whispered, putting a cold cloth to her bruised cheek.
Kate’s vision slowly cleared and she saw Micah’s men, most wounded, dragged into the hall. Many fought their captors but the Scots soundly thrashed them. Then they hauled in another man…John. Kate’s heart stalled.
Micah’s best friend had a terrible gash in his leg. He still battled the two men who held his arms, but because of his wound he could not truly resist. After a long moment, all that remained of Micah’s garrison knelt in the great hall. A Scot grabbed John’s hair and yanked his head back, pressing a dagger to his throat.
“Lady Kate,” Laird MacLeary said smoothly. “As ye can see I control this castle. But I dinna wish to cause strife. Marry my son and bring peace to this land.”
Kate bowed in her chair, perfectly aware of Stephan hovering around her. “I cannot marry your son while I am married to another man,” she snapped.
MacLeary gave an exaggerated sigh. “My dear lassie,” he said with mock gentleness. “Ye dinna understand.” He motioned to a man standing beside him. Kate blinked. A huntsman stepped forward, bearing a sword. He handed it to MacLeary and bowed.
MacLeary hefted the sword and gazed at it with admiration. “‘Tis a good weapon,” he murmured. “A weapon fit for nobility.” Slowly he walked toward Kate. “Lassie, I bear most grievous tidings.” MacLeary settled the blade across her lap. “Ye are now a widow.”
Kate stared at the weapon, it’s blade stained with dried blood, and a large sapphire on the pommel.
“Micah’s sword,” she gasped, tears clouding her eyes. There was only one way to take this weapon from Micah. He would die before he released it to an enemy.
Despite her best efforts, Micah had fallen into the trap. Kate’s heart screamed in bleeding rage but she uttered not a sound. Her spirit shriveled into ash, leaving her empty and shattered.
The man she loved was dead.
Kate closed her hand over the hilt, wishing she had the strength to wield the weapon properly against MacLeary. She wished she had the strength to kill him and his son then drive the blade through her own heart.
But what of her child?
The sword she held seemed to glitter with its own light. She became painfully aware of the tiny life in her womb. The child was all she had left of Micah…along with his sword. Kate knew she could not kill herself because she would take the last of the man she loved with her.
Survive, her heart whispered.
But if MacLeary knew the babe was Micah’s, he would slaughter the child as soon as it was born. Kate quickly came to a decision. Although her entire being cried in agony and denial, Kate lifted her gaze and stared at MacLeary.
“Very well, MacLeary. I will m
arry your son if you grant me two conditions.”
MacLeary scowled. “Ye are in no position—”
“I am in perfect position,” she snapped, trying to keep the note of hysteria out of her voice. “You need me alive or your plan will fail. I will agree to marry your son without protest if you allow me to keep this sword and allow Micah’s men free passage out of this barony.”
“Kate, nay!” John barked. “Don’t do this.”
Her gaze slid to the young knight and a single tear trickled down her cheek. “No one else shall lose their life over this, John.”
He stared at her a long moment, as if trying to know her thoughts.
MacLeary snorted. “I canna see harm in allowing ye to keep the sword. Ye can barely heft it. But the men…” he hesitated and glared at the handful of captives. “Ye willna protest the marriage when we take ye before the priest?”
“I will not.”
“Ye will speak the vows and obey them?”
“I will.”
He studied her a long moment. “Very well. The men will have safe passage out of the barony. I shall even let them take a wagon to haul their wounded.”
Kate breathed a small sigh of relief and stood. “Marjorie, we must bandage the worst of the wounds before they leave.” She clutched the sword in both hands, fighting to keep the tip from dragging the ground. Her gaze locked on John and she strode straight to him.
***
Micah, his arm in a sling, drove his men hard back to Appleby. They had left the village at dawn and ridden for two days. Snow flurries and biting cold hindered progress. Exhaustion and pain battered Micah. Blood still oozed from his wound and soaked the bandages. Some men were in no better shape than he was, but no one complained. They knew they had to return to Appleby quickly.
Micah pulled his cloak tighter around him and bowed his head, fighting back his dizziness. If they reached Appleby in time, Micah wondered how he would be able to fight. But he had to, he could not abandon Kate to the vultures.
“Baron,” Hubert said and pointed. “A large group of men approach.”
Micah stiffened. Had MacLeary decided to hunt them down?
“Sweet Jesu,” Hubert whispered. “‘Tis John and our men.”
His heart dropped to his boots but he recognized John leading the party. John spotted them and spurred his horse forward.
“Praise the saints,” he shouted, hauling his horse to a stop beside Micah’s. “You are alive.”
The blood drained from Micah’s face. He looked at the wagon but did not see Kate. “What happened?”
John grimaced. “MacLeary seized Appleby. He…he gave your sword to Kate.”
Micah squeezed his eyes closed. “Then…she thinks me dead.”
“Aye.” He glanced at the men. “We need to talk, Micah.”
Micah nodded and dismounted, pausing when dizziness assailed him. John limped toward him.
“You two are quite a pair,” Hubert muttered hauling John’s arm over his shoulders. The three moved into the trees, sitting on a log.
“Micah, the reason why we are still alive is because Kate negotiated our freedom. She agreed to marry Stephan.”
“What?” Micah roared in fury.
“She thought you dead,” John said urgently. “Hell, I thought you dead.”
“How could she do this?” He stood and paced. Had Kate betrayed him after all? “She knows she cannot hand Appleby to MacLeary. Even if she thought me dead, she should have never agreed to this.”
“Micah, she did it to save our lives and that of your child.”
Micah froze, staring at John in shock.
“MacLeary does not know she is breeding. Kate knew if he discovered the child was yours, he would kill it when it was born. By agreeing to marry Stephan she hopes she can convince him the child is his.”
Micah shivered, imagining Kate with Stephan sent daggers of dread through him.
“MacLeary allowed her to keep your sword. She told me she is praying for a boy. She will teach the child about his father, and when he comes of age, she will give him your sword to drive through MacLeary’s heart.”
Micah returned to the log and sat, rubbing his eyes. His heart ached, he wanted to be angry at Kate for agreeing to marry Stephan but wasn’t. She was simply trying to save their baby and he could not fault her for that. He looked at the men through the trees. Because of Kate’s agreement, he now had a garrison again.
“John, how bad are we hurt?”
“Ten dead, eight more wounded.”
Micah rubbed his jaw. “That gives about thirty who can fight.” He glanced down at his arm then at John’s leg. “You and I will be at a serious disadvantage, my friend.”
“Aye, but the Scots aren’t doing so well either. That’s why we are on the road alone. MacLeary didn’t have the manpower to escort us out of the barony. I made sure he paid the price of taking Appleby.”
Micah managed a grim chuckle. “Good. All right, we’ve got to formulate a plan. Hubert, we might as well set camp, I’m not going to run into this blind. If we don’t do this right, then I’ll lose all chance of saving Kate. Gather the knights.”
Chapter Nineteen
To Kate’s relief, MacLeary and Stephan had too much work to worry about and left her alone. They sent for a priest but it would take a while for one who would agree to perform the wedding to arrive. Kate was certain none of the priests from Byland Abbey would bow to MacLeary’s scheme.
MacLeary took her at her word and allowed Kate retain the solar instead of being forced into the dungeon. The first day, after an agonizing night of tears and no sleep, she worked to hide as many of Micah’s things as she could. If MacLeary found them or realized how important they were to her, he would destroy them. She stored his sword, and with a shaking hand, removed the precious necklace Micah had given her.
But she could not bear to remove her wedding ring. Kate knew she should, when MacLeary saw it he would take it from her, and she wanted to keep it safe. Ultimately, the ring remained on her finger where it had been since Micah had placed it there.
Kate finished and hurried downstairs. Unlike Micah, MacLeary had conscripted all of the villagers and serfs from outlying farms, forcing them to work like slaves repairing the castle. Kate was one of them. She toted water from the well. MacLeary pushed the people hard, not caring who may be old or sick, injured or lame. He did not care how dangerous ice made the scaffolds. Kate knew MacLeary was not as confident in his scheme as he wanted to be. He had to prepare the castle to withstand yet another siege if Henry decided to send a knight like he had Micah.
Abruptly her heart twisted in her chest as her thoughts screamed his name. She staggered against the wall. Nausea rose within her and she fought it down. She did not dare give MacLeary any reason to suspect she was breeding. She had to stay strong for the sake of her child.
Resolutely she lifted her chin and walked outside. Another dismal gray morning greeted her, matching the anguish in her soul. She walked to the well and filled a large jug with water.
A mass of people crowded the bailey, working on a variety of duties. Foresters hauled timber from the woods, serfs of all sizes and age brought rock through the broken gates for the stone cutters, men repaired scaffolding, older children tended to animals trying to keep them out of the way. The chaos dizzied her. Scotsmen hovered over all of them, guarding, watching, and waiting to beat whoever failed to perform their duties.
Kate hefted the jug of water and winced against the twinge of pain that shot through her. She would have to be very careful not to overextend herself or she might lose the baby. She stepped forward. A hand reached out and gently took the jug from her.
“My lady,” a nasally voice said. “That is much too heavy for you.”
She blinked at the man beside her. He wore a heavy, tattered cloak against the cold, the cowl pulled so low she could not see his face. He walked with a sharp limp, his body bowed and stooped.
“Thank you, but I can manage.�
�
“Nay, lady,” he replied in his grating voice. He continued to walk toward the wall and Kate had no choice but follow him. If one of the guards saw her standing aimlessly, she would be beaten just like the serfs.
The man hobbled to the wall. Buckets, at the end of long ropes, sat on the ground.
“Water!” Kate shouted up to the battlements.
The one of the villagers pulled up the buckets. Kate reached for the jug but again the man’s hand stopped her. She looked up at him, seeing a wisp of long black hair fluttering from his cowl. Slowly the man lifted his gaze.
Deep blue eyes stared into hers.
Kate’s heart slammed against her ribs and the blood drained from her face.
Micah! Her soul screamed, scarcely daring to believe the man before her was real and not an hallucination.
She opened her mouth but Micah quickly held his finger to his lips, warning her to keep silent. Her body quivered in frustration as she realized the danger he faced. If she threw herself into his arms she would give away his disguise.
Alive, she mouthed, trembling like a leaf battered in a storm.
His lips lifted in the lopsided smile she loved so much and thought to never see again. He started to reach for her then stopped, glancing around the edge of his cowl. There were too many people, someone might see him.
Kate’s lungs burned for air, her ears buzzed and her lips felt numb. Her heart rejoiced and tears clouded her eyes. But how could Micah uproot MacLeary now? It didn’t matter, Micah was alive. She staggered back against the wall, her knees threatening to buckle.
Micah grabbed her arm to steady her. “Kate?” he whispered.
“Ho there,” a voice barked.
Micah stiffened again looking over his shoulder. Stephan strode toward them.
Kate’s thoughts scrambled. “Go,” she said between clenched teeth. “Go around to the south tower away from the construction, watch the window.”
“I love you,” he whispered hoarsely, then abruptly hobbled away, vanishing into the throng of people.
Kate squeezed her eyes closed, tears streaming down her face. “I love you too,” she murmured.
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