by Speer, Flora
“With you and Sanal as hostages, and what’s in these bags to pay our way,” Walderon told her, “Mott and I can gain safe passage across the bridge over the Nalo River and into the Dominion. Domini Gundiac will be pleased to see us.”
“Why should he be?” Jenia asked, forbearing to remark that Walderon very likely would see to it that Mott was dead long before they entered Dominion territory. “From what I’ve heard of Domini Gundiac, he does nothing for anyone without first receiving some recompense.”
“What I can provide should please him well,” Walderon said. He drew a breath that sounded so painful Jenia feared he’d stop talking, yet he continued. “I have extensive knowledge of King Henryk’s fortifications along the eastern border. Such service has resulted in other men receiving gifts of land, or an heiress for wife.”
Upon hearing her husband’s last, cool statement Sanal whimpered, and Jenia knew her aunt was thinking that she would have to die before Walderon could marry again. Sanal shouldn’t be surprised; she’d heard Walderon’s revelations in the great hall just a few hours ago. Jenia decided to divert Walderon’s attention in hope of distracting Sanal, too.
“Once King Henryk realizes what you’ve done,” she said, “he will surely alter any plan he has made in regard to the Dominion.”
“By the time Henryk learns where I am, it won’t matter,” Walderon said. “I will be securely established as a loyal servant of the Dominion. In the past, other men have turned to Gundiac’s side and have fared well. So shall I.”
In the interest of her own safety and Sanal’s, Jenia shut her mouth on the bold response she wanted to make, that Roarke, Garit and Lord Giles would see to it that Walderon did not fare well, and that his fantastic scheme came to naught. They’d most likely see to it that he never reached the Dominion at all.
Knowing she and Sanal needed to stay alive until rescue came and hearing the wheezing of Walderon’s breath, Jenia decided she’d pushed him far enough. His temper was notoriously short where females were concerned and she had already garnered considerable information from him. With silent thanks to Lord Giles for his wisdom in regard to villains being eager to recount their evil deeds, she stopped asking questions.
“Sir Roarke, wake up.”
Roarke groaned and opened his eyes, aware before he did so that Jenia was no longer beside him and that his squire was shaking him hard.
“Please, we must make haste.”
“Elwin.” Roarke sat up, fully awake and ready for action. “What is it? What’s amiss?”
“It’s Lady Jenia, sir.” Elwin handed Roarke his padded gambeson. “And Lady Sanal.”
“What about them?” Sensing from his squire’s manner that he was going to need his armor, Roarke took the gambeson and pulled it over his head. Elwin stood ready with his hose and his chainmail hauberk and mail leggings. His hesitation in responding to a simple question began to worry Roarke. “Answer me, Elwin. Where are the ladies?”
“Lord Walderon has them, sir.”
Roarke stood perfectly still for just a single heartbeat before he slid into the chainmail with the ease of years of practice. He reached for his sword belt, buckling it on as he started for the bedchamber door. Elwin fell in beside him, holding the padded coif that would protect his master’s head from the chaffing of the mail hood that presently lay in a cowl about Roarke’s neck.
“I was asleep in the great hall, but I wakened when first Lady Sanal, and then Lady Jenia crept by,” Elwin explained as they started down the steps to the hall. “I thought it odd for the two of them to be abroad at such an hour, so I followed Lady Jenia. I must say, it was foolhardy of her to visit the dungeon without an escort.”
“Just the most important details right now, if you please, Elwin. You can fill in the missing parts and add your opinion later.”
“Yes, sir. A man I’ve never seen before has killed the guard you posted at Walderon’s cell, and has freed Walderon. When Lady Jenia went to the cell where she used to be imprisoned, those villains seized her, and Lady Sanal too, and now they are taking them out of the castle by the tunnels we used to get in. Walderon called them hostages. I didn’t stay to learn any more, because I knew you’d want to be awakened at once. I found Anders and alerted him, and then I located one of Lord Giles’s squires. We are all to meet in the great hall as soon as possible.”
“Good work, Elwin. And here they are,” Roarke said as Garit and Lord Giles appeared in the hall wearing their armor. All around them squires were arming the knights, and the ordinary men-at-arms, some still yawning, were gathering to hear their orders as they buckled on their boiled leather body armor or their simple padded shirts.
“Walderon’s corrupt Power is stronger than I realized, if he can manage an escape while under my binding spell,” Lord Giles told them. “As soon as he leaves the castle, he will almost certainly rejoin Burke, who will be waiting for him. They must know we will soon be after them, so they’ll likely make a dash for safety.”
“Of course, but in which direction?” Garit asked. “Curse Walderon! I knew I should have killed that scheming villain while I had the chance.”
“These are your orders,” Roarke said. Ignoring Garit’s anger he raised his voice so every man in the hall could hear him and the women, too, for they were appearing one by one, looking bewildered at being wakened so early. “First, we need a small force to man the outer walls and prevent Walderon from doubling back and trying to take the castle by surprise.
“Second, we need people to track Walderon and his henchman through the tunnels and to stand guard down below, at the moat entrance. It’s clear now that Walderon has learned about those passages. We don’t want him leading his people into Thury by the way we came.
“And third, we require a goodly company to track Walderon and Burke wherever they go, to rescue the ladies and bring them safely home.” He went on to divide their men into three groups. Garit immediately objected to being given command of the castle.
“It’s my right to take Walderon,” Garit insisted. “I want to ride with you.”
“No,” Roarke said, “we need you here.”
“Do as you’re told, lad,” Lord Giles advised, intervening before the quarrel that Roarke was expecting could erupt. “Hold your beloved Chantal’s castle in her name until we return.”
Garit stuck out his jaw for a moment, but when Lord Giles gave him a hard look, the younger man relented.
“For Chantal, I’ll do it,” he said.
“Good man.” Roarke clapped him on the shoulder. “Lord Giles, let us be off. Walderon has had more than enough time to make his escape. Once he’s outside the castle walls, Jenia and Lady Sanal will be in mortal danger.”
Jenia was almost across the staggered stepping stones, nearly at the far side of the moat, when she heard a shout from the battlements.
“Move, curse you! Stop dawdling!” Walderon prodded her from behind. “I’ll kill you if you delay me.”
With her hands tied and with Walderon’s loot cradled in her arms, Jenia was finding it difficult to keep her balance. She was almost grateful to Mott when the oversized brute grabbed her by a sleeve and pulled her up the bank to join him there. She collapsed next to Sanal, who was next across.
Walderon fell to his knees nearby, groaning and swearing as he broke entirely free of the magical binding Lord Giles had placed on him. Such a forceful freeing was always painful, so Walderon needed several moments to recover himself. When he stood and glared down at the women, he seemed to Jenia to be taller and more malevolent than she remembered.
“Get up, both of you,” Walderon ordered. He pulled Sanal to her feet by wrapping one fist into her loose hair and dragging her upward. Sanal cried out in pain, but for once Walderon was in too great a hurry to hit her.
Jenia scrambled to her feet before Mott could treat her in the same way. The bundle she carried was awkwardly shaped and it seemed to grow heavier the longer she held it, but she wasn’t going to risk a beating from Walde
ron by complaining.
“My lord,” Mott warned in a whisper, “someone’s coming. I hear horses.”
“Lord Walderon, is that you, safe and alive?” came a voice through the darkness. “Aye,” Walderon responded. “Who are you?”
“I’m Hal, one of your men-at-arms, sir. And this is Wat with me. Burke sent us to scout the area, in case you should need help getting away. We expected you to sneak out through the wicket gate, or the postern on the other side. We’ve brought an extra horse for you, my lord.”
“I’m pleased to know Burke is thinking for once,” Walderon said. “I told him I’d try to escape after nightfall. I will take my wife with me upon my horse. One of you take Matilda Jenia and do not, under pain of death, let her escape. My man, Mott, can ride pillion on the third horse. Don’t delay. My absence has been noted and I intend to be gone from Thury before those fools can mount a pursuit.”
Mott took the bundle Jenia had been carrying. Then he tossed her roughly up to the man called Hal. When he handed the bundle up to her and Jenia almost dropped it, Hal caught it and steadied it in her arms.
“I won’t let you fall, my lady,” Hal whispered. “Just rest that bundle on top of your legs and I’ll balance it for you.” He held the reins with one hand, while with the other he secured the heavy bundle so most of the weight fell on the saddle pommel.
“Thank you,” Jenia said quietly.
“Consider my help as repayment for the kindness you and Lady Chantal always showed to my little boy, Joce,” Hal said.
Meanwhile, Sanal was not being handled so gently. She screeched as Mott flung her upwards. Walderon grabbed her arms, turning her roughly so that she and the sack of Walderon’s coins were sitting in front of her husband.
“Be quiet, woman!” Walderon ordered. Without giving Sanal a chance to arrange her skirts or settle herself more comfortably he kicked his horse’s sides and set off across the meadow with Hal and Jenia following. By the time they reached the forest, Wat had caught up to them, with Mott riding behind him, arms around Wat’s waist and grumbling all the way about having to share a horse.
At the edge of the forest Burke awaited them, mounted and ready to ride with the rest of Walderon’s people, whom Jenia could see hiding in the shadows. Walderon never bothered to provide explanations to underlings for his decisions, so after a few hurried orders they all began to move through the trees, riding slowly along a narrow path, with Walderon leading the way.
Jenia was able to make a fair guess as to their direction because whenever they came to a break in the trees she could see how the sky ahead and to the right of them was lightening. Dawn was near and tracking them would be easier by daylight.
Knowing Roarke would waste no time once he learned she and Sanal were missing, Jenia took hope. She told herself he’d find them soon, before Walderon decided to order the women killed. She tried to think of a scheme to distract Walderon, or to get herself and Sanal away from him when the inevitable attack began. If only Sanal would remain quiet and not anger her short-tempered husband.
Time passed, an agonizing period for Jenia as they traveled ever farther from Thury and she heard no sounds to indicate they were being followed. She briefly considered the awful possibility that Roarke was searching in the wrong direction, but soon discarded the thought. Roarke would find her wherever she was. She knew it in her deepest heart. Still, a great deal of time passed before Walderon called a halt near a small pond.
“Let the horses drink,” Walderon said, “but every man of you remain mounted. I have a new arrangement to disclose.”
Jenia tensed upon hearing those words, in fear that Walderon had decided he no longer required his hostages and he’d order them slain before he continued his flight. But her sly uncle had another plan in mind.
“The track forks here,” Walderon said. “Hal, Wat, I want you to lead half of my company westward.”
“How far west, my lord?” Hal asked, sounding unhappy. “Where shall we rejoin you?”
“Just keep riding until dark this evening. Wherever you are then, make camp and wait for us. We’ll find you after we have eluded the men from Thury.”
“My lord, we are the men from Thury,” Wat objected.
“Are you?” In the early morning light Walderon looked murderous and his voice went hard and very, very cold. “Well, then, obey your master’s command without argument.”
“Aye, my lord. What of the women?”
“I’ll keep my wife with me. Put Matilda Jenia on one of the spare horses and let Mott hold the reins.”
“Hal,” Jenia whispered, “try to find Sir Roarke and tell him where we’ve gone. He will reward you.”
“Lord Walderon is my master,” Hal said firmly, as if that simple statement of fact precluded any further argument.
“Did you know my uncle is responsible for Lady Chantal’s death?” Jenia asked. She was about to add that Walderon was a traitor to his king and was fleeing to the Dominion, but Mott grabbed her and tumbled her off Hal’s horse.
The transfer to a spare horse was accomplished with no regard to Jenia’s sensibilities. She bit her lip to keep herself from crying out at the pain when Mott pulled roughly on her bound hands. He then made a point of holding on to one of her thighs after he ordered her to swing a leg over the horse’s back. She ended riding astride with her skirts hiked up well above her knees and no way to push the fabric lower. It was all she could do to keep her seat.
Once Mott mounted his own horse, he jerked on the reins, while Jenia tried her best to grasp the pommel with fingers gone numb. Without Hal to bear some of the burden, the bundle she still held between her arms quickly became a weight so heavy that it was torture to keep from dropping it. She longed to let it go, but she feared if she did, Walderon would order her immediate death. Or, he’d use his Power to bind her so thoroughly that she could no longer think for herself. The possibility terrified her.
Hal, on the other hand, had been freed of the burden of carrying a woman. Without a glance at Jenia, he turned his horse onto the western fork of the road and raised one hand to bid half of the men to follow him.
Knowing how stern a master Walderon was, Jenia was not surprised by Hal’s actions, but she was surprised to hear a few muttered complaints from the men he was to lead. These she took to be the result of the men-at-arms realizing that Walderon was no longer lord of Thury and the chances were good that he wouldn’t be returning there. Nor could they believe he really would meet them later at their nighttime camp. They must know Walderon would make his escape and leave his people to fend for themselves. However, fear of him apparently ran deep enough to send the designated half of those men riding north as ordered, at least until they were out of Walderon’s sight and hearing. Hal and Wat disappeared among the trees, followed by their companions.
As soon as they were gone, Walderon set out on the path leading east. Some time later, as the path began to wind upward into the foothills, Burke maneuvered his horse close to Walderon’s mount so they could talk quietly. Jenia wondered if Mott was distrustful of Burke and wanted to eavesdrop, because he moved close to Walderon. As a result Jenia, riding only a rein’s length behind Mott, could also hear what the two men said.
“My lord?” Burke asked. “Have you a plan that I should know about and prepare for?”
“We are half as many people now,” Walderon responded. “Therefore, I expect we will travel twice as fast.”
“It’s difficult to make haste while riding uphill,, especially with women along,” Burke remarked, looking from the silent, drooping Sanal to Jenia, who sat rigidly upright glaring back at him.
“The women will not delay us,” Walderon told him. “They wouldn’t dare.”
“I think I begin to understand what you intend,” Burke said eagerly.
“Do you?” Walderon looked straight ahead, not at his faithful henchman. Jenia couldn’t see her uncle’s face, but the tone of his voice chilled her.
“Aye, my lord,” Burke said
. “You expect Sir Roarke and his people to follow Hal and Wat, who are heading in the direction of Calean City. That’s exactly where you would be most likely to go, in hope of speaking to King Henryk before those foolish upstarts can reach him and pour some false story about you into his ears. But we’ll outfox them, my lord.”
“We?” Walderon’s voice turned even more icy.
“I mean, you will, my lord.”
“Tell my men to increase their speed,” Walderon said.
An hour later, Walderon called Burke to join him again. By this time, they had come out of the trees onto an open, hilly area. Just a short distance ahead of them rose the stark ramparts of the Nalo Mountains. Jenia could see the cleft where the pass began.
“Burke,” Walderon said, “I want you to take all of this company except for Mott and Matilda Jenia, and lead them northward.”
“My lord, that will leave you with precious little protection should Sir Roarke catch up with you,” Burke protested, turning a disparaging eye on Mott.
“Roarke won’t catch us. Do as I say.”
“Yes, my lord.” Burke looked displeased, but he raised a hand as Hal had earlier done and the remaining men-at-arms departed with him.
“Now, Mott,” Walderon said when the others were well out of earshot, “we will head east.”
“East?” Mott shook his head. “I don’t understand, my lord.”
“We will ride through the pass to the river,” Walderon said, deigning this once to provide a partial explanation to a mere man-at-arms.
“I don’t know the way through the pass,” Mott said.
“Ah, but I do, and I will guide us there,” Walderon told him.
Jenia began to hope Mott would drop back to his usual position a little behind his master so she could quietly suggest to him that Walderon would very likely kill him before they reached the demolished bridge over the Nalo River. She was sure Walderon wanted no witnesses left alive to report the truth of what he was doing. Even more likely was the possibility that Walderon would order Mott to dismount and kill the women. Then Walderon, still on his horse and with the advantage of height, could easily employ his sword to kill Mott.