“How is it provisioned then?” Samuel was pleased that they had gotten the smith to talk about Colinsworth without raising any suspicions.
“Once each week, his steward comes to collect the lord’s share of our produce. If our services are needed, to shoe his horses or do some repair work, the steward summons us to the castle. Other than that, we see nothing of him and prefer it that way.”
“At least the crop looks to be a fine one this year,” said Stanley. The blacksmith nodded in agreement.
“It will be one of the best in memory, God willing the rain stops until the harvest. And the extra grain will help many in this village recover from near starvation, I can tell you that.” In good years, the payments to the lord of the manor did not increase, allowing the farmers to keep a greater amount of their own produce. It was the only time when their lot in life permitted more than a diet that barely sustained them, when more grain could be stored for use in the winter or traded at town markets for commodities that were otherwise rare in their lives, such as dried fruits, honey, and mackerel or cod.
The smith’s wife entered from the rear door hefting several faggots for the cooking hearth, which she dropped loudly for effect before the fireplace. Adjusting her bosom beneath a bulky dress, she scowled at her husband.
“If you’re done with your idle chat, there’s some pigs that need sloppin’ out there, and two of the chickens jumped the hedge again. I told you a dozen times that you need to tie that hole in the hedge together, but I might as well be talkin’ to meself. And you haven’t cleaned out the…”
“All right, woman. You needn’t nag the whole night long.” The smith knew that she wouldn’t stop listing chores until he started doing them. He smiled at his guests and pulled a wool coat over his head before heading for the door. Samuel and Stanley knew that helping the smith would be far more desirable than staying in the kitchen with his wife, and they both jumped up to accompany him.
*
As promised, after spending relatively comfortable nights in the blacksmith’s shed, Samuel and Oliver spent the first hours of each of the next three mornings performing routine tasks around the cottage. The animals were fed and the cow milked, and the two men made numerous small repairs around the yard. The smith’s wife was pleased with their work and fed them a hearty meal of vegetable and grain stew, with ale and heavy bread.
The friends took their leave on the third day and walked back to the edge of the woods near town where Sir Nigel and the others awaited their report. Not that they felt they’d learned anything that would be of vital importance to their mission, but it was hard to assume what would be of use to Sir Nigel.
When they were still a few minutes from the camp, they met Oliver waiting for them on a large boulder by the roadside.
“Any interesting information?” he asked after greeting them.
“I don’t think so,” Samuel said. He could see that Oliver was nervous. “Is there something wrong?”
“I think you’d better see for yourself,” he answered. “I just wanted you to know that I did what I thought was right.”
When they arrived at the camp, a small, practically smokeless cook fire was burning in a pit away from the road over which two rabbits were cooking on a spit. Sir Nigel and his two henchmen were warming their hands. Someone else was with them.
“Did you think that you would never see me again?”
“Christopher!” croaked Samuel in shock. “How…”
“It was my doing. lad,” said Sir Nigel. “My men informed me that he had returned to York and I told them to bring him here. I thought you’d be happy.”
“I suppose we can use the help,” Samuel said reluctantly. His lack of warmth was evident to everyone. He turned and moved away from the camp and the others, Christopher following.
“It’s just like you to sulk, brother.” Christopher joined him in the dark.
“The word comes hard to your lips, Christopher, but you never needed a brother anyway.”
“It comes no harder to me than to you. It wasn’t I who deserted the family for all these years.”
“But you did desert the family, on some damn self-righteous quest. And now Sally and Kate are paying the price. And Emma and the children have suffered as well.”
Christopher hung his head. “I admit my mistake. Perhaps I was trying to right the wrongs that I saw in you.” Samuel’s accusation had wounded him deeply. “But let me say that it’s kind of you to show concern for children that you did not even know existed until recently.”
“I was the one sold into servitude.” Samuel’s face reddened with anger. “And I had other sworn duties. You were given everything, and only had to be there for the family when they needed you, but you couldn’t even manage that.”
“Listen to yourself, Samuel. Was it so easy to dismiss your responsibilities to us simply because of your duty to the Percys, or was it really some demented need for revenge against Father that you visited on us instead? And don’t speak to me of your duty to the earl. You deserted him quickly enough.”
Samuel had no rebuttal. He had allowed his own insecurities and self-pity to keep him from his family.
“If you find me so repulsive, I’ll find my own way in life as I always have. You needn’t concern yourself with me after we correct the results of your actions.”
“If that’s the way you want it, Samuel, there’s nothing I can do.” He turned back toward the fire. “By the way, I have a message for you from Emma. She said to tell you that she hopes that you’ll remember your promise. She didn’t tell me what that means, but I expect that you’ll disappoint her again.”
Oliver had watched them intently from a distance, hoping against the odds that they could find some common ground. When Christopher returned, he could only shake his head sadly.
Later, when the cook fire had been extinguished, Sir Nigel told the men that he had finally devised a way into the castle, though even he was amazed at how difficult it would be.
“I’ve never seen a castle so tightly shut that wasn’t under siege,” he shook his head. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think that he knew we were out here, but from what Stanley and Samuel were told by the blacksmith, it seems that it’s always that way. I can’t imagine what he’s so afraid of.”
As Sir Nigel unfolded his plan, Oliver felt certain that they would not all return from the brooding castle on the distant knoll.
*
About an hour before first light, Stanley and Sir Nigel’s men secluded themselves where they could watch the castle and cover the escape. Oliver and Samuel, Christopher, and Sir Nigel headed for town armed only with short swords and hoping they would not need to unsheathe them. Sir Nigel’s information promised that on this day the steward of Colinsworth Castle would venture forth to seek the week’s supplies and hay for the lord’s stable. The hay was collected by a farmer who lived near the edge of town. They groped their way through the dark toward his cottage, and carefully crept across its crowded yard toward the hay wagon.
Christopher’s night vision made it possible. Without disturbing the animals, he negotiated a path to the loaded wagon, and the four burrowed in. It was full of loose hay and easily concealed them. In the musty warmth, they waited for the steward.
At about noon, when their patience was all but exhausted, they heard horses approach, felt a lurch, and were suddenly on their way to the castle. It became increasingly difficult to breathe through the dusty, shifting hay, but finally they felt the wooden planks of the castle drawbridge beneath them, and heard the unmistakable sound of the iron portcullis being raised. They endured another long wait in the courtyard before they were finally pulled into the stable. They had been fortunate.
“Let’s go!” said Sir Nigel. Throwing the hay from his face, Samuel and the others jumped down and hid around the s
table. The horses were agitated but made little sound, and now, for the intruders, it was time to wait again, this time for nightfall.
By sunset, the hay wagon that had delivered them had not yet been unloaded, giving them reason to believe that very few servants tended to this castle. They gathered before the stable doors and peered into the courtyard. Christopher pointed out each of the guards that he could see, and then Sir Nigel motioned them to follow the wall around the kitchen to the tower over the barbican. Sir Nigel expected prisoners to be held there. It was usually the most secure place.
They found the steps that led to the allure where the guard was still standing. Sir Nigel peered from behind the wall that shielded the steps and measured the distance to his adversary. Signaling the others to be silent, he steadied himself, then jumped the guard and thrust his blade into his throat. There was a gurgling sound, and Sir Nigel lowered him silently to the ground. Motioning for the others to follow, he took the guard’s keys and entered the tower, quickly followed by the others.
Inside, a single torch lit a narrow hall and two doors, one with a barred opening, and the other without. He decided to chance a look into the room with the opening, for no other reason than it was safer than opening the other. He motioned Christopher, the closest, to take a look.
Christopher nodded and carefully looked through the bars, waiting for a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Without warning to the others, he called Sally’s name in a loud whisper. A voice answered from within.
“Christopher?” And then louder. “Christopher, is that you?”
Sir Nigel frantically silenced them with a “shhhh!,” then tested the guard’s keys until he found the right one. Oliver pushed past the others and ran in as soon as the door was open. A moment later he came out with Sally in his arms, holding her tightly to himself. She seemed dazed at first, but at the sight of her brothers she began weeping.
Samuel squeezed her arm, then entered the cell himself. Coming back, his expression was desperate. Gently stroking his sister’s hair, he asked a heart-rending question.
“Sally, can you tell us where Kate is?” She answered through sobs that made speech difficult.
“They took her…they took her away not long ago. I don’t know where.” Sir Nigel pulled Samuel away.
“We can’t stay here. There aren’t many other places for her to be.” He signaled to the others. “Come, quickly!” He led them back out onto the allure, past the dead guard, and down the stairs to the gatehouse within the barbican. He cursed their luck, for if Kate had been in that cell with Sally, they would surely have made a clean escape by now. Instead, they huddled before the portcullis.
“I’ll go with Samuel, the rest of you stay here and wait for our return. If we’re not back shortly, leave without us. My men will see you clear.”
“You’ll need me as well.” Christopher stopped him. Sir Nigel shook his head.
“If we don’t make it back, they’ll need you to lift the gate. Come, Samuel, someone will surely find the guard before long.”
Samuel hesitated for a moment, looking at Christopher as if he had never seen him before, then turned and left with Sir Nigel.
Sir Nigel and Samuel made their way past the kitchen again and found a servants’ entrance to the great hall. Standing in a vestibule where the servers normally arranged the food before entering, they heard a man’s voice but could not make out the words.
Sir Nigel pulled the drape slightly aside and they both peered in. There, at either end of a long dining table, were Kate and a man they assumed to be Lord Colinsworth. Kate pushed the food around her plate but did not eat. Colinsworth pulled meat from a suckling pig. There appeared to be no one else in the room but for the steward, who stood silently between them and the table.
Sir Nigel motioned for Samuel to follow, and drew his sword. Running straight to the steward, Nigel dispatched him with a single stroke while Colinsworth jumped from his chair, too frightened to say anything. Samuel moved quickly to Kate, who ran to his arms.
“I knew you would come, my love,” she laughed and kissed him frantically. At that moment, a guard entered the hall, emboldening Colinsworth.
“Take them, you fool!”
The guard pulled his sword and advanced while Colinsworth shouted to raise more of the guard.
“This way, lad. Quickly!” shouted Sir Nigel. Samuel and Kate ran to the door from which they had entered, Sir Nigel close on their heels. Once in the courtyard, Sir Nigel allowed the pursuing guard to come to within a few paces, and then suddenly spun and catapulted himself into their pursuer, the collision sending them both sprawling across the courtyard. Without armor, Sir Nigel was quicker on the rebound and leaped onto his adversary, who had only managed to get to his knees but could move no further before the point of a sword pierced his neck. Blood pumped from the wound. Without pausing, Sir Nigel ran toward the barbican, knowing that in moments the castle would be roused against them.
Christopher and Oliver were already turning the wheel that lifted the portcullis, and by the time Samuel arrived they had secured it high enough to allow the raiders to pass beneath. An alarm bell sounded and several armed men gathered in the courtyard waiting to discover the nature of the alarm. Sir Nigel knew they had run out of luck.
He ran to the gate where Sally and Kate had already been pushed beneath the teeth of the portcullis, and Oliver was just sliding under.
“I’ll stay behind and lower the gate. If I cut the rope, you’ll have time to get away. My men will be waiting for you.”
“They need you to help them find a safe way away from here,” Samuel said. “I’ll stay and cut the rope.”
“Samuel’s right,” added Christopher. “Even if we have a few hours’ start, you’re the only one who can find a safe place for them. But I’m the one who will stay.”
“For God’s sake, Christopher,” chided Samuel, “for once think about your family.” Colinsworth was already headed toward them with several men. “If you don’t leave now we’ll all die for nothing!”
Sir Nigel pulled Christopher through the gate. Samuel jumped up to the giant wheel that held the portcullis rope and hacked away with his sword.
“Where’s Samuel?” Oliver asked frantically.
“Come,” responded Sir Nigel, pulling them across the castle walk. “He’s purchased our lives with his own.”
Kate screamed his name and started to run back, but Sir Nigel picked her up and ran from the castle. Oliver followed for two steps, then stopped and dashed back, diving under the portcullis just as Samuel severed the last strands. It crashing down between him and his fleeing family. Colinsworth seized them both.
“Get this gate up and go after them!” yelled Colinsworth. “If they get away, it will mean the gallows for all of you.” He stared through the bars. “Take these two to the darkest hole you can find, and forget you ever saw them.” A quick death was too good for them.
Two guards pushed the friends across the courtyard. Samuel glanced sideways at Oliver.
“Why in God’s name did you come back?”
“I could not let you die alone.” They were led to the tower opposite the gateway and into the darkness below.
CHAPTER XXIV
“Why did Sir Nigel depart without our leave?”
The news had disturbed him. He needed Nigel now. Pamphlets had surfaced in many towns in which Warwick’s grievances were enumerated and his virtues extolled to the commoners. Such propaganda typically preceded invasions.
The Duke of Gloucester cleared his throat. “Sire, I’m sure that Sir Nigel is about the king’s business and will return shortly with his intelligence.”
“We pray that you’re correct.”
“Highness, we are prepared for Warwick,” interjected Earl Rivers. “We have assembled a standing arm
y and billeted them within an hour’s march of London. Our ships patrolling the channel will give the traitor enough to handle before he places a treasonous foot on Your Highness’ soil.”
“You can be sure, Lord Rivers, that Warwick has anticipated those moves. William, in your estimation, what power could he muster on short notice? I’ll wager my kingdom that Louis will give him only a small force, for such is his nature.”
“Only the Marquis of Montagu has the means to assemble a large enough army to threaten us, Sire,” said Hastings. “But Sir Julian has kept a close watch on him.”
“What of the marquis, Sir Julian? He has shown no inclination to be disloyal, but we fear his heart.”
“Majesty, I have watched him carefully, but he has only performed those duties assigned to him by Your Highness and nothing else.”
“Mind him well, Sir Julian,” said the king. “If Warwick invades, his loyalty will be sorely tested. My lords, we will retire for now, but keep a sharp ear to the winds that blow from France, for time alone stands between us and an accounting with the Earl of Warwick. And, Sir Julian, find Sir Nigel and summon him to us.” They all bowed as the king left the room.
“I also marvel that Sir Nigel would leave us at such a dangerous time,” Hastings scowled at Sir Julian. “It fills me with wonder at his loyalties. Did he give you any indication of his destination before he left?”
“No, my lord, I was not aware that he had left until the king was informed. But I will stake my life on his loyalty, and I assure you there is a good reason for this.” His forehead wrinkled as a thought occurred to him.
“What is it?” asked Hastings.
“It’s nothing really, my lord. Perhaps there’s no connection at all.”
“Connection to what?”
“Two of my guardsmen are also missing, but they are good friends and have been greatly bothered by other matters lately.”
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