Ruth A. Casie

by The Guardian's Witch

  Two guards stood leaning against large boulders in front of bushes that masked the tunnel entrance. Jamie and Alex split up and worked their way behind the guards. When they were in position, Jamie crept up behind the guard in front of him, put his hand over the unsuspecting man’s mouth, and pulled him through the bushes.

  “I hope this ends soon. I don’t want to spend another winter out here,” said the other guard and pushed off the boulder.

  Alex made his move. He stepped out, grabbed the guard’s head and wrenched it. The man fell to the ground without making a sound.

  Cameron and Fayne stood like silent sentinels waiting for the signal. The night was soon disturbed by three owl hoots. The signal given, they quietly advanced.

  Cameron and Fayne led the team through the entrance. The way was lit with torches hung at intervals. They picked their way through the rock debris with care until they came to a bend. Tom tapped Cameron on the shoulder and indicated that cellar guard post was just beyond.

  Alex watched from behind. He and Cameron had been on many campaigns together. Cameron knew what he was doing. Alex was eager to get to the protectors but for now all he could do was watch it all unfold from his vantage point.

  Cameron and Fayne crouched and moved behind a large rock. They started to move again but Cameron, his head moving from side to side, quickly pulled Fayne back.

  What is he looking at? Alex was perplexed.

  Cameron set four stones on the rock next to him. He peered at the guards for some minutes, then motioned something to Fayne.

  Fayne moved back toward the men and crouched under the nearest torch. Cameron, rock in hand, took aim and let the rock fly. Before the rock hit its mark, Fayne dowsed the torch. Everyone heard the second rock hit, along with a loud groan.

  When the torch was relit, Cameron and Fayne stood over the two guards who were now gagged and bound.

  The Stelton brothers and some of Jamie’s men moved on toward their assigned positions. The rest went on toward the cellar. Tom and his handpicked men pounded on the door.

  “Who’s there?” yelled a man on the other side.

  “Tom. Let me in. I have news from Lord Ramon.”

  The old lock scrapped and scratched but finally they heard the wooden bar move and the door was thrown wide open. Tom and the men walked through.

  “I’ve brought some new recruits from Lord Ramon.”

  “Well, it’s about time. We’ve been down in this hole for weeks.” The men turned, got their gear, and handed the keys to Tom. When they walked out the tunnel door Jamie’s men captured them.

  Tom, Alex and Jamie walked across the cellar into the dungeon.

  The protectors and their men peered out from their cell. “Alex! Alex Stelton. Has the ransom been paid? Has the king sent you?”

  The prisoners got to their feet in the locked cell.

  Tom handed the key to Jamie.

  “What’s he doing here?” They pointed to Jamie. “He’s the reason we’re here.”

  “No, not Jamie, nor any other Scots.” Alex stood to the side while Jamie undid the lock.

  “Who then?” asked Hubert.

  The door open, the men filed out. There was a buzz among them. “I told you Mitchell appeared daft.”

  “Daft? That was not something anyone would associate with Bryce.” said Alex.

  Hubert turned to Alex. “Alex, what’s going on? Mitchell visited and told us he was negotiating with the Scots on behalf of the king. That didn’t sound right. Edward would never give the old man that much power.”

  Alex and Jamie looked at each other. “So, it’s the old man?”

  The prisoners began speaking at once. “It’s all beginning to make sense.” Alex held up his hand. “Start at the beginning.” He looked through the knot of men. “Hubert, tell us what happened.”

  “I went out hunting with one of my men. We were set upon and captured by Scots. At least that’s who we thought they were.”

  The other protector came forward. “My story is similar. I went out with three of my men on patrol. The attackers came out of nowhere. One minute we were patrolling the forest—the next thing we know were surrounded by Scots.”

  Someone passed the men skins. They drank thirstily. “How did they bring you here?”

  Another captive spoke. “They blindfolded us and rode us around. I could tell they doubled back and led us in circles to confuse us. After a while I gave up trying to figure out where we were. When we got here they locked us in the dungeon.”

  “They gave us parchment and quill to send a message to the king,” added Hubert.

  “Did His Majesty respond?”

  “Yes, he said he was working on the ransom and it might take a while since the Scots’ throne was empty,” said Hubert. “About six months ago Mitchell came to see us. He said he’d been acting on behalf of the king.”

  “Do you know anything about Mitchell planning an uprising?” blurted out Cameron.

  “Hold, Cameron. Let them finish. I want to hear it all.” Alex turned to Hubert. “Go on.”

  “Ramon came here with an escort of Scots. He brought us blankets and food.”

  “You heard nothing for nearly two years?” Alex asked.

  Hubert turned an angry eye to Alex. “No and I’ll kill the man who locked me in this place.” He gave Jamie and his men a scathing look.

  Alex shook his head. “Let me understand—for the last six months Ramon has been coming here to give you progress on your ransom. Did anyone else come with Ramon?”

  “Bryce was here once. But his father was the one we dealt with. Ramon was here yesterday informing us of the progress he’s made. We would be free by next week.”

  “He told us the king was at Glen Kirk and prepared to march into Scotland in retaliation. We told Ramon His Majesty could count on us.”

  Alex turned to Tom. “An undertaking like the one Ramon plans would take a lot of men. Where is he getting them from? I know most of Bryce’s men. I don’t recognize any of his ‘Scots.’ Who are they?”

  “Lord Ramon buys them,” said Tom. “His leaders are mostly mercenaries.”

  “It must cost him dearly to pay all these men.”

  “We’re not paid in coin, Lord Alex. He’s promised us land and positions in Scotland. To some he’s even promised a place in the new government.”

  “I had no idea to what lengths Ramon would go,” said Alex.

  “He has it all planned. He meets with his advisors and talks about politics with England and alliances with France and others.”

  A wave of anxiety overtook Alex.

  “Alex, are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Cameron stood next to him. “What do you see, Alex? I know that look.”

  “It’s just a feeling, a strong feeling. Lisbeth is in great danger,” he said. “I must get to her.”

  “Have you always been this perceptive where Lisbeth is concerned?” Jamie questioned.

  “No, I’ve… I’ve never been able to connect with her like this.” The shock of discovery hit him full in his face. All day long he’d had glimpses of her thoughts. His eyes scanned the area around him as if seeking an answer. He didn’t have time to think about why he knew that she planned something dangerous; he needed to stop her. “Jamie, I must go.” He bolted down the tunnel, Jamie close behind. “Bring the men to Glen Kirk. We’ll confront Mitchell there.” He threw the words over his shoulder and kept going.

  “Your brothers and my men will bring Hubert and the others,” said Jamie. “They’ll lock Mitchell’s men in here. I’ll go with you. We’ll take a shortcut to Glen Kirk. It’s hazardous but we can get through. My men will show the others the way. Besides, you’ll need someone at your back. You can’t just walk into Glen Kirk. You’re a wanted man.”

  At the other side of the tunnel entrance Cameron stood next to him as he readied Prime. “Alex, let us go with you. By now Bryce must have told everyone you’ve escaped. His men will kill you the moment you get near.”


  “No, I must do this. You can handle things here. I’ll meet you at Glen Kirk as we planned.”

  “We won’t be far behind you. Besides, we wouldn’t want to miss all the fun.”

  Alex clapped his brother on the shoulder. He’d thank Cameron and the others later. “Bring them quickly. I fear Lisbeth’s in greater danger than I thought.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  She didn’t stop until she reached the safety of the Great Hall.

  “Thank you, Lisbeth. How did you know I needed my shawl?”

  “With the wind beginning to pick up I knew the mist would gather in the hall and you would soon feel the chill.” Lisbeth took a deep breath to calm her jangled nerves. Bryce. How did she not know? He strutted into the hall as if summoned by her thoughts. She forced herself to concentrate on what Mother Celeste was saying.

  “Excuse me, Lady Celeste. I need to speak to Lisbeth.” Not waiting for any acknowledgement, he took Lisbeth’s elbow and casually maneuvered her around the room greeting people, nodding as they passed. Lady Celeste was left standing with her mouth agape.

  “I see your lips are still swollen from our little interlude. You’re better than I anticipated. I thought you would be cold and unfeeling, but there is a great deal of passion behind your cool façade. You might be acceptable after all.”

  She drew her hand up intending to slap his smug face but he anticipated her intention and grabbed her hand.

  “You’ll pay for your little trick. Play your part and I’ll spare you looking on when they draw and quarter him.”

  She hesitated. He pulled her on.

  “Good, I see you understand,” said Bryce.

  “You know he’s not a traitor. Why are you doing this?” She stumbled to keep up with him.

  “Things have started you cannot begin to understand. He’s a good enough man but…”

  Remorse echoed in his voice. “I can’t help the traitor although with your cooperation I may be able to get his sentence commuted to the Tower of London.”

  “My cooperation? What must I do?” Her mind was a mixture of hope and fear.

  He brought her to a halt. They were on the far side of the room out of earshot. He stood in front of her, his arm braced on the wall beside her head, his right knee between her legs. With her back against the wall her capture was complete.

  He took the back of his free hand and stroked the side of her face. “How soft and tender to the touch.”

  An uncomfortable shiver raced through her.

  “What you must do—we will marry once things are settled about Alex.” The conviction was back in his voice.

  “You want to marry me?” Lisbeth was confused.

  His caustic glare was followed by a lecherous smirk. “Yes, marry you.”

  She was appalled at his nerve. “I’m already married. Even if Alex is found guilty.” Her heart sank at the thought. “No gentleman would ask such a thing…” She lifted her chin and met his icy stare.

  “Ah Lisbeth, where politics is concerned there are no gentlemen. You’re caught in its web, as I am.”

  She scanned the room for support.

  “And don’t seek help from the Steltons. You wouldn’t want anything to befall them like it did Richard?” He took her chin with his forefinger and tipped up her face to peer into her eyes. “Would you?”

  The mention of Richard and Bryce’s veiled threat didn’t go unnoticed. She didn’t answer. She didn’t trust herself. She shook her head.

  “Good, then we have an agreement.” He pushed away from the wall and, with an afterthought, turned to her. “And none of your little tricks or I’ll have your tongue cut out. What a pity since I can think of such wonderful things to teach you to do with it.”

  “How are you involved with Richard’s death?” she finally demanded.

  He brushed his hand down her neck. His hand rested around her throat. “He was a causality of war. Not necessarily the Welsh War.”

  All those years ago, when they were children, she’d seen the glint of the blade when Richard and Bryce played soldier, and again when Richard was on the battlefield. It was Bryce. Knowing didn’t make it any easier but it did make her more determined.

  He stepped back from her, placed her hand on his arm, and took her to the center of the room.

  The closer she got to the king, the greater her resolve. She would never let Alex be branded a traitor. She would do whatever was necessary.

  When Bryce was waylaid by some courtiers, she took advantage of the interruption and wandered away from him. She knew he watched her. She forced herself to keep her face from showing the loathing she felt for him. Alex. The thought gave her determination and eased her fear. A plan started to form. All she needed was courage. There would be no turning back once she set things in motion. She must not fail.

  “Your Majesty.”

  “Yes.” Edward turned to the soldier.

  “Sire, we searched the dungeon where the prisoner was held. We found these on the floor.”

  Everyone turned to see Gareth’s dress gloves handed to the king.

  Gareth felt his belt. His gloves were gone. When he looked up he was surrounded by the king’s guards.

  Bryce looked at Lisbeth, a smug smile on his lips. “My men have volunteered to assist your guards. They stand with them ready to protect Glen Kirk and you, sire.”

  *

  The forest sped by in a drab brown blur as Alex and Jamie, their horses lathered and blowing hard, tore down the trail at breakneck speed. He trusted the Scots but feared this path would take too long. He was anxious to reach the meadow where he could let Prime fly over the ground.

  What’s she doing? He focused on Lisbeth. Her thoughts came to him as easily as he felt his own. No! He forced himself to concentrate. Did she have any idea what she was doing? He had to reach her. She would force the king’s hand and give him no alternative.

  The towers of Glen Kirk came into view. The destrier eagerly responded to his prodding as if he knew what was at stake. In a burst of speed, horse and rider sprang forward across the meadow, leaving Jamie behind.

  Alex brought Prime to a quick stop at the edge of the forest when he saw Bryce’s men in the distance at Glen Kirk’s gate and the king’s men standing guard with his own.

  Jamie rode up beside him. “You can’t go in that way. If Bryce knows you escaped from his trap he’ll have his men cut you down before the others can do anything.”

  “I can’t let Lisbeth go through with her plan, Jamie.”

  “Can you go in the way you came out?”

  “Yes, follow me.”

  They came to a halt by the garden wall and dismounted. The garden was deserted. They went over the wall and ducked into the secret entrance. They quickly navigated the passage and carefully entered the dungeon. It was deserted. They started up the stairs but stopped when they saw soldier’s shoes through the space under the door. Jamie tapped Alex on the shoulder and they went back to the dungeon.

  “I wondered why the garden entrance wasn’t guarded. There’s another way,” whispered Jamie. “Come with me. This leads to a bolt-hole in the keep.”

  In one of the far corners of the dungeon storage room Jamie cleared baskets and debris from the floor. He swept away the moldy straw and revealed a trapdoor. The two men heaved it open.

  “Where does this lead?” asked Alex.

  “The tunnel leads to a door under the grand stairs in the castle.”

  Alex went in first.

  Before Jamie climbed down the ladder, Alex stopped him. “I need you to set this all back so no one follows.”

  Jamie hesitated.

  Alex couldn’t guarantee Jamie’s safety, and the big Scots was as dear to him as any of his brothers. No, he had to keep Jamie out of this so he could see to Lisbeth if…

  “I will get Lisbeth to safety. But if anything happens to me take care of her.”

  “You never have to worry about that. Now go, I’ll bring the protectors to the Great Hall as
we planned. And Alex, don’t trust Bryce. He’s a desperate man.”

  “I know. And thanks.” He vanished into the passage.

  *

  Small tendrils of fog laced their way to the Great Hall entrance and pooled there. No one took notice of the usual phenomenon. Except this time it glittered like the ethereal thing it was. Soft wisps reached out and wrapped around Lisbeth as she stared at the great doors. One by one the room’s occupants fell silent, stepped back, and gave way until she stood alone in the center of the Hall standing on a sparkling cloud, her eyes fixed on the doorway. All eyes followed her stare and darted between her and the entrance. The sense of confusion was palpable.

  “What’s happening?” she heard the king’s courtiers ask, Gareth’s gloves momentarily forgotten.

  “It’s a peculiarity of our hall. When the weather and wind are right, a mist gathers here. I’ve never seen it shimmer so,” said one of the villagers.

  “Usually it stays to the floor,” said another.

  “It fills the entrance,” commented one of the Glen Kirk soldiers.

  Lisbeth stared and waited. She imagined the carriage bumping and jolting down the rutted trail. She envisioned the horses’ eyes wild with terror as they ran out of control. The carriage leapt forward. The frightened team raced on.

  She brought the ghost carriage down the hall on the gathering mist. The apparition grew larger and gathered speed as it barreled down the castle corridor just as it had raced down the trail years ago. Her head echoed with the sound of the frenzied horses and the carriage breaking.

  She felt her parents’ panic and terror as they struggled to protect her. Pain laced through her when she caught a whiff of her mother’s perfume. Her heart pounded in her chest until she thought it would burst but she could not stop. With renewed focus she brought the image on.

  The king rose from his chair. Lisbeth didn’t need to follow his glance. He stared at the entrance to the hall, disbelief on his face.

  “Lisbeth?” the king called out to her.

  She felt Edward and Bryce search her face but they quickly looked back to the doorway. The guards closed rank around the king and pushed Bryce aside.