by Ida Curtis
“Lord Chetwynd is concerned about you, Lady Isabel. I should have stayed with you,” he apologized.
“He has no right to be angry with you, Ingram. It was my fault.”
“No, it wasn’t. Lord Chetwynd is right. I should have realized the downgrade was as dangerous for you as the rise. Can you climb back to the trail if I help?”
Isabel nodded. By this time Jerome, his young face grimacing, had scrambled down the slope to help them. “I just went to the back of the line for one minute. What happened?” he asked.
“Lady Isabel’s horse stumbled and she took a spill. There’s no harm done,” Ingram assured him.
“I should have been here,” Jerome lamented.
Isabel wondered if he meant to help, or whether he was sorry he’d missed the action. Hoping to lighten the mood, she said, “Maybe you can catch my next performance.”
When Jerome smiled at her, Isabel sighed, relieved that he was able to see the humor in the situation.
Ingram shook his head and rolled his eyes at their exchange, but he too seemed relieved. By the time Isabel had regained her place in line, she had forgiven Chetwynd for his sharp words. But the incident reminded her of how easily the embers of her desire for his touch could be stirred into flames.
As the caravan drew nearer its destination, there was a definite easing of tension among the travelers. There had been no sign of bandits along the route, and the worry about an attack had faded. Isabel observed the excitement of the soldiers as they approached home territory. They were close enough that three of the soldiers could be dismissed and allowed to head toward homes located nearby.
The fourteenth day of the journey was warm and sunny. Ingram told Isabel that Chetwynd had planned a detour to the site of a Roman aqueduct in the area. Instead of traveling at the top of the canyon, the caravan followed the shallow riverbed so they would have a good view of the ancient structure. Isabel was pleased Chetwynd had remembered her interest and was excited at the prospect of viewing the aqueduct.
Father Ivo, who had made a great number of drawings during his travels, was particularly proud of his sketch of the aqueduct. On parchment it seemed so exotic, with its many arches and levels, that it had been hard for Isabel to believe it was real.
As the caravan approached the giant aqueduct, her first thought was that although Father Ivo’s sketch did it justice, the structure was much larger than she had imagined. The banks of the river rose steeply on either side of the riverbed to form a deep canyon. Isabel felt dwarfed as the aqueduct towered above them and filled the canyon. Three layers of arches formed the bridge. The bottom and middle layers were the same size, and the top layer had smaller arches. As she stared up at the amazing structure, she couldn’t imagine how the Romans ever managed to build it. Perhaps they’d had assistance from the Roman gods, she thought, beaming at the thought of Jove and Neptune giving them a helping hand.
Marianna was as impressed as she was, and they lagged behind the rest of the group who had seen it before and were only mildly interested. Isabel reined in her horse, letting riders pass by as she studied the graceful lines. Because she stopped under the arch that spanned the river, the sound of passing horses echoed inside the walls of the archway.
The rest of the caravan was already moving out of sight around a bend when Marianna called out that they should be moving on.
“Just another minute,” Isabel begged, enchanted by the size, shape, and power of the aqueduct.
When she heard hoofbeats on the rocky riverbed, Isabel was annoyed at the thought that someone was backtracking to hurry them on. It took only a second to realize the sound was coming from behind their party. Five strangers quickly surrounded Isabel and Marianna. One of them grabbed the reins of Isabel’s horse, rendering her powerless to move. Another began giving instructions to Marianna.
“Tell Lord Chetwynd to proceed to the Convent of Saint Ives. We will get word to him about a ransom.” The leader spoke tersely in a tone meant to discourage argument. It was clear he did not want to waste a minute.
“Release my lady immediately,” Marianna demanded.
Isabel could tell by the quiver in her voice that Marianna wasn’t as defiant as she sounded. In fact, her defiance changed quickly to terror and compliance when one of the men, without saying a word, pointed a knife at Isabel’s heart.
“I’ll do as you say, don’t hurt her,” Marianna pleaded.
The leader spoke again. “If anyone follows us, the lady is dead. Understand?”
Marianna nodded.
“Now get moving.”
As Marianna turned her horse to obey him, she wasn’t too cowed to shout a warning. “Don’t you dare hurt my lady. Lord Chetwynd will have your head if you so much as touch her.”
One of the young men laughed, but the leader signaled him to be quiet. “Wait at the convent for the ransom message,” he reminded Marianna as they turned to make a quick getaway, pulling a dazed Isabel along with them.
The abduction happened so quickly that Isabel hadn’t been able to think of a way to resist. She started to tremble as she remembered a similar attack eight years earlier. This time she’d have to save herself. At the moment, the only thing she could think to do was observe the route they were taking. If she could manage to escape, the information might be useful to find her way back to the caravan.
Wordlessly the men rode up the rocky bank of the river. But when they were sure Marianna was out of sight, they returned to the riverbed where they rode through the water for a short distance before heading up the bank on the opposite side. Isabel realized they were covering their tracks to make it difficult for anyone to follow them.
There was something familiar about the leader. Isabel suspected he may have been one of the many men she had seen at the manor house the night before, but she couldn’t be sure. Although terrified, Isabel told herself that if she did what they demanded, they wouldn’t harm her. They had mentioned a ransom, and Isabel was confident Chetwynd would pay whatever they asked.
No one said a word to her until they had reached a cave about halfway up the side of the canyon. It was clear they had reached their destination. There was a flat area at the mouth of the cave, and Isabel could see that the site was set back and unlikely to be spotted from below.
“Can you believe our good fortune?” one of the men said as he dismounted.
“Our waiting paid off. She was sitting there waiting to be plucked,” the leader answered, looking toward Isabel. “Hardy, help our guest from her horse.”
The leering young man who had laughed at Marianna’s words came to help Isabel. He raised his hands toward her, and she had all she could do to keep from cringing.
“I can get down,” she said with as much dignity as she could manage, but he leered at her and put his hands on her waist. Repelled by his dirty clothes and bad smell, Isabel pushed away his hands and got down quickly.
“We have a wild one here,” he said with an unpleasant laugh. Grabbing her arm, he pulled her roughly toward the shelter. “She should be fun to tame.”
He was not a large man, and Isabel managed to shake out of his hold on her. But her action made him angry, and without warning he swung at the side of her head with the flat of his hand. He hit her so hard that her head covering came off and she fell to the ground. She scraped the skin off her hands on the stones as she tried to break her fall, but she forced herself not to cry out.
“Hardy, leave her be.” The leader spoke sharply to the young outlaw, then turned to address Isabel for the first time. “If you want to rejoin your party, you’ll do as I say. Otherwise I’ll give you to my young friend here. I don’t think you’d like that.”
The leader grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet, then pushed her toward the cave. Isabel had all she could do to keep from falling again. Then he barked an order: “Sit still or I’ll tie you up.”
BACK ON THE TRAIL, IT HAD TAKEN MARIANNA ONLY a few minutes to catch up with the rest of the party. The noise of
the river had covered any sound the bandits made during their abduction. She knew time was important, and she rushed directly to Chetwynd at the head of the line, ignoring the stares of the other riders. When he turned to listen to her, she explained quickly what had happened.
The color drained from Chetwynd’s face, but that was the only outward sign of the fear that gripped him. Jerome and Ingram had moved close enough to hear Marianna’s words.
Before anyone else could reply, Jerome said, “Let me follow, my lord.” He was straining to get started and only waited for permission.
“They might spot you,” Chetwynd said, as he wondered if there was anything they could do.
“Not if I’m on foot. If I climb along the top of the canyon, I might see where they are camping.”
“They threatened to kill Lady Isabel if anyone follows them,” Marianna warned.
Chetwynd stared at the frightened woman for a second. He didn’t want to alarm her further, but he knew there was no reason to believe the men would free Isabel, even if a ransom were paid.
Ingram spoke up. “Jerome is small and skilled at remaining concealed. He’ll be careful. The bandits are not likely to go far. They probably have a hideaway prepared.”
Chetwynd knew he had to decide quickly, as valuable time was slipping away. Jerome had already jumped from his horse.
“Go, but make sure you’re not seen. We don’t want to put Lady Isabel in danger. If you find them, come to the convent and report to me. Don’t try to do anything on your own, Jerome. We will leave a horse and one man here to wait for your return.”
His squire had moved away as soon as he’d said go and was already scrambling up the side of the canyon as Chetwynd shouted the last words.
Although Chetwynd feared there was only a slight chance Jerome would spot the bandits, he knew that if anyone could find them, it was his squire. He was fleet of foot, and his young eyes were sharp.
From the worried look on Ingram’s face, Chetwynd knew they both shared the same fear for Isabel’s safety. If anything happened to her, he wasn’t sure how he could live with himself. He had brought her along on the journey and then tried his best to ignore her. It hadn’t worked for a minute, and now he might lose her.
“Perhaps we’ll learn something at the convent that will give us a clue as to who the bandits are.” Chetwynd spoke to encourage himself as much as to give hope to Ingram.
WRAPPING HER ARMS AROUND HER KNEES, ISABEL sat close to the entrance of the cave. Her cheek was throbbing from the blow she’d received from the young man they called Hardy, and the top of her head felt like it might explode. But she refused to feel sorry for herself because she knew her capture was her own doing. She shouldn’t have lagged behind the others. The bandits must have been following the caravan, waiting for an opportunity to snatch someone. As they said, she had made it easy for them.
From what the leader had said to Marianna, it was clear he knew Lord Chetwynd. She wondered briefly if Chetwynd would be angry at her carelessness. But she knew better. He would be concerned for her safety. The only comfort she could take from the situation was that Marianna had not been taken as well.
To keep from surrendering to despair, Isabel decided to plan her escape. From their ruthless handling of her, she suspected they would not release her even if a ransom were paid. She had to at least try to free herself.
Except for the young outlaw called Hardy, the men did not pay much attention to her. But Hardy kept a close watch, and she stayed perfectly still so as not to give him an excuse to put his hands on her again.
At the back of the cave, she could see that the leader was changing his clothes, discarding his tattered outfit and putting on finer garments. Once he was better dressed, he reminded her of a merchant she had seen a few times on their journey. She had noticed him because he seemed to be keeping an eye on their party, and at the time she had wondered if he was interested in one of the serving women. Now she realized she should have alerted Chetwynd or Ingram about his interest. The bandits must have been following their caravan for some days, getting ready to make their move.
Isabel chastised herself again for how easy she had made it for them. She sat with her head lowered to her raised knees, her hair hanging over her face and eyes. She hoped the bandits would not realize she was observing them through her thick curtain of hair. The leader was obviously going to be the one to deliver the ransom instructions to Chetwynd at the convent.
There were several ways he could deliver the message that would not bring suspicion upon himself. The convent would be busy with travelers, and one more merchant would not be noticed. She must try to make an escape tonight, under cover of darkness. The thing she feared most was that they might tie her up and make an escape impossible. She would act docile, which should not be hard, she told herself. Then they might not deem it necessary to bind her.
As it turned out, there was no need to worry about being tied up. After the merchant left, Isabel observed Hardy pouring wine. Looking over at her to see if she noticed, he added some powder to the cup. Since her eyes were still covered by her hair, he had no way of knowing he had been observed. When he headed toward her, carrying the cup, Isabel was sure he planned to drug her. If she was correct, she could pretend to fall asleep and wait for a chance to slip away.
“Maybe a cup of wine will make you feel friendlier.” Hardy smirked, holding the cup out to her.
Isabel pretended he had startled her from sleep. “I am thirsty,” she murmured.
The bandit watched her closely, so Isabel made it seem she was drinking his offering. Fortunately, he could not see the cup was still full, and she took as long as possible, making sipping sounds. When Hardy was distracted by noise from one of the horses, Isabel checked to make sure the others weren’t watching her and emptied the contents into the sand beside her, covering the damp spot with her skirt. When Hardy returned from checking on the horses, he looked to confirm the cup was empty.
Isabel began to wonder how soon the drug was supposed to take effect. She decided she could take her cue from Hardy, waiting to see when he expected her to fall asleep. She just hoped he did not have other ideas for her while she slept. The leader had warned him to leave her alone before he left, but Isabel was not sure how seriously Hardy would take that warning.
Although the outlaws had taken a devious route to reach their hideaway, hoping to mislead anyone who might follow them, she judged that they hadn’t traveled far from the aqueduct. If Isabel could find her way back to where they had captured her, she could hide and hope someone would look for her. Since she had no idea where the Convent of Saint Ives was located, it seemed best to head for a place that was familiar.
Of course her plan depended upon her escape, Isabel reminded herself, and she shivered at the thought of making a move. What she really wanted to do was curl up and pretend she was somewhere else.
Although it was getting dark, the bandits had not lit a fire. Hardy came to stand over her. “Move farther into the cave,” he said, pointing to where they had set their bedrolls.
When Isabel replied, she slurred her words and acted sluggish. “I can’t breathe in close places. Please don’t make me move,” she begged, acting as pathetic as possible. It was not hard to do.
Hardy looked back to where the other men were huddled together, eating and drinking, and must have decided he preferred to have her away from the group. He touched her hair, and she had to force herself not to pull away.
“Sweet dreams, my lady,” he whispered, and moved to join the others.
Isabel sighed with relief and vowed to do whatever was necessary to escape the disgusting bandit.
At first Hardy glanced over at Isabel a few times, but she pretended to be asleep, and he soon became engrossed in the game the men were playing. They had lit some candles, which Isabel hoped made it more difficult for them to see her in the dark beyond their circle of light. She managed to noiselessly arrange her heavy cloak, propping it up with a few sticks and
hiding behind it. If they did glance over, she hoped it would look like she was lying under the cloak.
The game they played involved loud cheering after a successful throw of wooden cubes. Isabel planned to make her move during the next cheer. When it came, she prayed the noise would cover any sound she made. The first time she crawled only a short distance, staying close to the ground and leaving her propped-up cloak behind her.
There was a patch of ground near a tall bush a short distance beyond the cave. She made it her first goal. Isabel knew she had to steady her nerves and only move short distances until she was far enough away so that she needn’t worry about being heard. She prayed they would continue to play the game until she was a safely away.
When she was finally huddled behind the tall brush, Isabel wanted to stand up and run, but fear of discovery kept her patient. She would never be able to outrun Hardy. Although it was dark, she could see quite well and was sure they would be able to find her quickly once they discovered her gone. Hopefully, the time it took for their eyes to adjust to the dark would give her a little extra advantage.
Forcing herself to go slowly, Isabel finally managed to crawl far enough away that she didn’t need to worry about being heard. Although she wanted to head down the bank toward the river, she figured that was what they would expect her to do. Instead she stood up and climbed uphill, hoping to find a hiding place above their cave where she could wait until they discovered her missing. If they could not find her quickly, they might head for the convent to warn their leader that she had escaped. Then she could make her way to the aqueduct.
To move faster, she lifted her skirt and wrapped it around her legs, frantically searching around for cover. There were many large rocks and stubby trees, but none gave her the protection she hoped for. She feared the bandits would discover her missing before she found a hiding place, and she began to shiver violently. They were sure to punish her attempt to escape.