by Leigh Bale
Stealthily, he walked across the chamber. Both Jenkin and Ariana followed. As she was about to slip through the open door, the jailor gave a loud snort and jerked. Ariana froze. Her pulse raced and she stared wide-eyed as the man rubbed his nose and readjusted his position. He smacked his thick lips but didn’t open his eyes.
Praise the heavens.
Her temples pounded as she waited for him to settle himself again. Then she took the last two steps through the door and into the hallway. Her heart beat madly in her chest and she could hardly believe they’d come this far without detection. Surely they’d be discovered at any moment. But they had the advantage of night. Most of the castlefolk were asleep and the guards obviously didn’t expect intruders.
Moving further down the hall, Wulfgar directed them outside into the dark once more. Cool night air embraced them and Ariana crossed her arms, clenching her teeth to keep them from chattering. Wulfgar led the way through the bailey, which was lit with several torches set along the walls. It became apparent to Ariana that he knew his castle well. She would have gotten lost in all the twists and turns they took. He looked about, as if noticing what had occurred at his home during his absence.
They passed by piles of rubbish and he grimaced with disgust. His nose wrinkled with repugnance when they caught the stench of decaying garbage and he frowned at the disrepair of fences and buildings. From his expression, Ariana thought this lack of care greatly bothered Wulfgar, as it did her.
Edwin was not only cruel, but also lazy. The lord of this keep needed a strong hand to direct the people in their labors.
“See there are very few guards. Some are sleeping against the wall over there.” As Jenkin pointed to several men lying slumped against the stone keep. A soft snore filled the air.
Without him saying so, Ariana knew Wulfgar would have punished his men for such sloth while on duty.
“Aye,” Wulfgar whispered. “It’ll be easy to take control.”
A dog began to bark and Wulfgar ducked behind a stockpile of barrels. Jenkin and Ariana bustled after him and they huddled there, listening.
“Shut up, you mongrel.” A man’s angry voice came from the kennels. A thud and yelp were followed by loud curses.
All was still again, with only the lowing of contented cattle coming from the milk barn. Ariana shifted nervously beside Jenkin. What was their next move?
Crouched upon his knees, Wulfgar nodded toward the far side of the yard and whispered. “I believe Edwin has locked Dafydd in a small chamber at the top of that tower. It’s where I would put the boy. We’ll have to cross through the main hall and climb the stairs to get there. Once we reach the stairs, we might encounter a guard. If not, we should be able to reach him easily.”
“And will there be people sleeping inside the hall?” Ariana queried softly.
“Yes,” Wulfgar nodded his head as he peered over the barrels. “I fear it won’t be as easy to slip through the hall without detection as it was to get by the jailor.”
“What will we do?”
Reaching out, he grabbed a woolen rag someone had thrown over the barrels. He folded it in half, then draped it over his head and pulled it forward so it covered his lower face. If a servant noticed him, they wouldn’t recognize him.
Hopefully.
Taking hold of Ariana’s braid, he proceeded to stuff it down the back of her shirt, hiding the long strand from view. Ariana didn’t think to struggle. To the casual eye of a sleepy person, she would appear to be no more than a boy passing through the hall.
Wulfgar’s teeth flashed white as he smiled. “Hopefully, if anyone awakens and sees us in the hall, they’ll think we belong there and pay us no heed.”
“They’ll know we’re strangers. Don’t you think they’ll suspect something amiss?”
Wulfgar frowned. “That’s the chance we’ll have to take. Perhaps they’ll not care. The mercenaries have met with success in subduing your people and have become lazy in their victory.”
Ariana prayed their trickery worked. Jenkin grunted as he stepped back into the yard.
They crept into the main hall. Sitting in the center of the large room, a bright fire burned in a round fire pit made of stone. Long tables were set on either side of the fire pit with a raised dais at the head of the room and another table set there for the lord of the castle. Beautiful gold tapestries emblazoned with red snarling wolves hung from the shadowed walls, which were painted a vivid blue. It was too dark to make out the details but Ariana could see armaments and shields bearing Wulfgar’s crest hanging above the lord’s table.
Wulfgar’s jaw tensed when he noticed this and Ariana knew it was an affront for Edwin to keep them there when he had no claim to Wulfgar’s heritage. Wulfgar had told her that the Conteville name was an old one associated with wealth and power in Normandy. Long had his family been close confidents and allies with King William. When Edwin had taken control of the castle, the wolves should have been removed and replaced with Edwin’s crest.
Again Wulfgar looked about at the food encrusted dishes strewn across the sturdy tables. Ariana was surprised the servants had not cleared the mess away after the last meal. Bones and decaying garbage littered the floor from many a meal. She pinched her nose at the great stench. From across the room, a dog growled, then lowered its head back to the floor.
“I will drive this vermin from my home,” Wulfgar muttered.
Watching him, Ariana could see his anger. His brows lowered in a dark frown and his jaw flexed as if he ground his teeth together.
“Don’t forget our mission,” she admonished.
People slept on the floor and on benches along the walls. One man snored noisily from where he lay sprawled across the lord’s table. At first, Ariana thought it might be Edwin in a drunken stupor, for she had seen the man on several occasions. As they drew near, she realized it wasn’t him.
They were halfway across the hall when a young woman rolled over and opened her eyes. Ariana tensed as the woman stared blankly at them for several moments, then pushed auburn hair back from her cheeks. Jenkin nodded at her but they kept moving, acting casual, as if they had a right to be there. The woman glanced at Wulfgar, looking curiously at his head covering. She seemed to size him up and then her eyes widened, but she made no sound.
Slowly, the woman pushed the fur coverings away and scooted back from the heavy arm of the man lying beside her. She yawned and stretched casually, then stumbled to her feet and made her way toward the door. It appeared that she needed to relieve herself, and no one stopped her from leaving the hall. Ariana breathed a sigh of relief.
Reaching the landing of the stairs, Wulfgar started up, moving quiet and fast as they wound round in a steep, upward circle. At each floor, there was a hallway branching off into unknown chambers, and Ariana realized the magnitude of this great castle Wulfgar had built.
What would it have been like to live here with him as his wife and raise their children?
She shook her head, clearing her mind. She must not let herself think such foolish thoughts.
Finally Wulfgar stopped and stood aside to let her and Jenkin pass. He removed the cloth from his head and let it dangle loose around his neck.
He inclined his chin upward. “The tower room is above. It’s the only chamber at the top, so you’ll not become lost. Go and seek your brother. I have business on this floor.”
Ariana drew back with dismay. “What do you plan?”
Wulfgar’s dark eyes glinted with resolve as he stared down the dark passageway.
“He seeks Edwin,” Jenkin remarked in a knowing tone.
Ariana shifted her weight. “Not yet. If you create a disturbance, the guards will hear and come running. So far, we’ve gone undetected. We must find Dafydd and free him before you take the castle.”
“You have what you want. Go and retrieve your brother,” Wulfgar growled. “Leave me to my own troubles.”
“The princess is right,” Jenkin objected. “You’ll bring the guards down upon us if you s
eek Edwin now. We must first open the sally port and let our men inside.”
Wulfgar turned his head so he looked at Ariana. In his eyes, she saw cold fury. She drew back against the wall of the stairway and pressed her hands against the rough stone. She’d never seen him look so resolute.
“You gave me your word,” she reminded him.
Wulfgar looked torn. He bit his bottom lip, his manner hesitant. She knew he wanted to go to the lord’s chamber and drag Edwin out of bed and deal him a quick and brutal death.
Jenkin tensed beside her as his fingers curled around the hilt of his sword. His eyes hardened and his nostrils flared. The last thing they needed now was to fight among themselves.
“You’re right.” Wulfgar relented. “Revenge clouds my mind. It’ll be as you say.”
Ariana caught the anguish in Wulfgar’s eyes. She thought of all he’d built with his own hands, only to have it taken away. He’d been shamed and banished, stripped of his titles and lands, then sold into slavery. If he were innocent as she believed, it would be much too harsh a punishment.
Wulfgar’s eyes blazed with fury. “First, we will free Dafydd. Then, I will find Carlinham and kill him.”
Chapter Twelve
Turning, Wulfgar led the way up the stairwell. Ariana followed, with Jenkin bringing up the rear. As they reached the top, she trembled with anticipation.
Please, God. Let Dafydd be inside. Please.
They met a door. Though it was dark on the landing, Wulfgar seemed to know the way. He reached out a hand and tried the handle. A hollow click sounded. Wulfgar gave a gentle push and the sturdy panel swung inward.
Ariana tried to brush past, but Wulfgar held out a solid arm to stop her. Shaking his head, he proceeded first, followed by Jenkin. It was dark inside, with a slitted window sitting high in the far wall where light from the moon streamed down onto the stone floor. Thick carpets were spread on the floor beside a canopied bed.
A sleeping form lay curled beneath the warm covers.
“Dafydd!” Ariana rushed to push the heavy canopy aside and embrace her brother.
The form rolled and sat up. Ariana stopped, stunned to her very toes. It was not Dafydd, but a boy of approximately fourteen years. His blond hair was cropped short in the Norman fashion, so golden white it glimmered in the darkened room. Dressed in a long nightshirt, his ashen face was smooth as marble and gleamed in the shadows. Pale eyes stared back at her, shining bright as they widened when he saw intruders in his room.
The boy threw back the covers and bolted toward the other side of the room. He grabbed for a knife lying on a table top. Wulfgar moved with a flash of speed, placing the point of his sword at the boy’s throat. The boy froze, his eyes wide. Jenkin stood before the door, blocking escape.
The lad’s mouth dropped open and he raised his hands, stepping back.
“D…don’t kill me,” he stuttered. “What do you w…want?”
Ariana’s heart clenched. He was so frightened he could hardly speak.
“Don’t be afraid,” she whispered. “We mean you no harm.”
“Wh…who are you?” he asked, his gaze uncertain as it slid over her.
Jenkin pushed the door so it was barely open and peered out onto the landing, listening for intruders. While he kept watch, Wulfgar approached the young man. “We seek Prince Dafydd. Where is he?”
The boy’s bare feet peeked out from beneath his sleeping gown, his toes curling against the cold stone floor. “H…he’s not here. I think they’re keeping him in the d…dungeon.”
The dungeon? But they had just been there. Perhaps he was kept in another cell.
A lance of fear speared Ariana’s heart. She remembered Vachel and the dismal conditions he’d suffered. An image of Dafydd filled her mind. Starved, freezing, half naked and tortured. Would Edwin do such a thing to a young royal?
“Wulfgar, he’s not here. Where would Edwin be keeping him?” she asked.
Wulfgar stepped near, lifting an arm as if he wished to comfort her. “He must be in a chamber above the guardroom. I doubt Edwin would keep the boy in a dungeon cell where he might sicken and die.”
“Aye, he’s in a r…room above the gatehouse,” the young man supplied.
The boy had an obvious stutter, but was it because he was scared or was his stammer a normal thing?
Hope filled Ariana’s heart. “He’s not in a cell?”
“I d…don’t think so,” the young man said. “Your brother should be quite comfortable, unless….”
“Unless?” Horrifying images filled her mind of Dafydd suffering ghastly depravities. They’d been so close, having just left the gatehouse. Now, they must go back and Ariana turned toward the door, eager to find Dafydd with haste.
“Are you his sister? He s…said you’d come for him.” The boy squinted his eyes with suspicion.
Ariana stopped and looked at him hard. “Who are you?”
Casting a nervous glance at Wulfgar, the young man licked his lips. “I’m M…Markus, son of Edwin of Carlinham, the Earl of Glyndwr.”
“Oh.” Ariana’s mouth rounded and she placed a hand against her cheek.
Edwin’s son.
A sinister smile curved Wulfgar’s lips and he peered at the lad. “You’re Carlinham’s son? I can see the resemblance, but you have your mother’s eyes and hair.”
“My mother is d…dead,” the boy stuttered.
Wulfgar frowned. “Is she? I’m sorry to hear it. She was the only good thing about your father.”
Markus narrowed his eyes and his gaze rested on Wulfgar’s face. “You seem f…familiar to me. How do you know my m…mother?”
Wulfgar showed a tolerant smile. “My name isn’t important.”
Turning to Ariana, Wulfgar grinned with pleasure. The flash of his smile looked white in the dark room. “Princess, we have just secured your brother.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Edwin will no doubt exchange Dafydd for his own son.” Stepping toward Markus, Wulfgar hardened his jaw. “You’ll come with us. Once your father returns Prince Dafydd, you’ll go free.”
Markus stared at Wulfgar with fear. Though his thin body trembled, he lifted his chin. As he spoke, his mouth moved slowly while he tried to speak clearly. “My father will not exchange Prince Dafydd for me. I s…stutter and he doesn’t care if I live or d…die.”
Ariana’s stomach tightened. No doubt Edwin had little tolerance for a son who stammered when he spoke. With patience and encouragement, she thought Markus could overcome his problem. Somehow, she couldn’t envision Edwin providing that kind of support to anyone.
Wulfgar clenched his jaw. “Do you expect me to believe Edwin would forfeit his only heir?”
“He plans to have another s…son, once he remarries.” Markus shrugged, holding his head high. Though he met Wulfgar’s gaze and answered in a matter-of-fact tone, Ariana sensed deep pain and resentment in the boy. No doubt Edwin’s careless neglect was the cause.
“You’ll come with us anyway. Get dressed.” Wulfgar jerked his head toward a large chest sitting at the foot of the bed and spoke to Ariana. “Will you find him something to wear? Make sure there are no weapons.”
She padded across the floor to the large chest and lifted the heavy lid. Rummaging around, she pulled out clothing and tossed it to Markus. Then she turned her back while he dressed.
“Let’s go,” Wulfgar said after a few moments.
Ariana turned and saw Markus now dressed in plain woolen hose, a tunic, and leather shoes. She went to stand beside Wulfgar. “What do you think we should do?”
His expression was grim. “We’ll search for your brother in the gatehouse and open the sally port so our men can enter the castle. Then, I will fight while you and Dafydd flee.”
But what if Dafydd wasn’t in the gatehouse? Stepping back, she refused to panic.
Wulfgar lifted his sword and placed the steel point against Markus’s throat. The boy’s breath froze and his eyes bulged.
“If you make a sound, I’ll kill you,” Wulfgar warned.
Markus nodded, his eyes round as moons. He didn’t speak as they stepped out onto the dark landing, with Jenkin leading the way.
Quietly, they stole down the stairs and regained the main hall. Ariana moved close to Wulfgar as they crossed the spacious room, silently praying no one noticed them. A loud snore came from the back room and Markus turned his head. His eyes crinkled and he held still when Wulfgar placed the point of his sword against his throat.
A dog lifted its head and growled but remained curled by the fire.
Jenkin brought up the rear, prodding the young man with his sword. Markus threw him a sullen glare as they crossed the bailey.
They entered the stairway leading to the guardroom. Jenkin glanced at Markus. “Which way?”
The lad pointed up but Wulfgar had already moved to mount the stairs. He knew where to go.
A guard came out of a side chamber and entered the stairway. Ariana sucked back a startled breath.
The guard’s head was bent down. As he took a step, he stumbled and reached out a hand to catch himself, seeming groggy with sleep.
In that moment, Jenkin covered Markus with his sword and Wulfgar stepped in front of Ariana, a protective gesture. The guard looked up and saw them. Then he reached for a sword that wasn’t there.
“To arms. To arms,” he shouted.
Wulfgar sprang at him, clouting the unarmed man over the head with the hilt of his sword. The man dropped like a stone, his body thumping on the steps.
Ariana froze, listening. Had the other guards heard the man’s call?
“Fulcher? What’s amiss?” Another guard called from below.
Ariana’s heart plummeted.
“They’re warned,” Jenkin spoke in a hissing whisper.
Within moments, the dungeon would be swarming with guards and they’d be discovered.
“Go up.” Wulfgar jerked his head toward more stairs. “Find the prince. I’ll draw their attention away from you and open the sally port to admit our men.”
Jenkin nodded and pushed Markus ahead of him as he and Ariana scurried up the stairs. Wulfgar disappeared through the door outside. It happened so fast, she couldn’t even call him back.