Wearing a Mask - a Medieval Romance (The Sword of Glastonbury Book 14)

by Lisa Shea

  She leaned forward to give him a gentle kiss.

  Hillie’s breath came in a shuddering draw.

  She carefully ran her hand along his ribs, feeling for a break, but to her relief she did not find any. She moistened a cloth in her washbasin and ran it along his face, cooling him. There was still a piece of bread in her pouch from the previous night and she ripped it into small pieces, feeding them to him one at a time.

  Slowly, slowly, his breathing became more regular. The edged rasp became a gentle draw. He drank some water and then lowered his head onto his paws. His eyes closed and he drifted off into a weary sleep.

  Relief coursed through Isabel and she pressed a tender kiss onto his forehead. Then she carefully eased herself up from the bed and moved over to the window.

  Lord Ingram was still standing on the executioner block, shouting a string of jaw-dropping obscenities at a guard. Finally the guard nodded and spun, racing off toward the main gate.

  Lord Ingram’s gaze spun and landed on a guard tying a rag around his gaping leg wound. Lord Ingram began screaming at him to -

  His mother strode over and grabbed his arm. The woman had some strength to her – she was able to get her son to turn. There was a muttered conversation.

  Her mother flung an arm high, pointing directly at Isabel’s window.

  Isabel’s blood ran cold. Surely they could not still be planning –

  Lord Ingram spoke sharply to the injured guard, his order full of inflected detail.

  The guard nodded. He gave a final wrench to his bandage and limped toward her building.

  Isabel spun in a circle looking around her room, but there was nowhere to go.

  She leaned out the window, searching desperately for any sign of Philip and his friends. In every corner, Lord Ingram’s guards were on the hunt. A trio of them stalked the wall, looking down every channel. A pair of guards were opening and empting each grain barrel. Every bale of hay was being impaled through.

  The sound of slow, staggered footsteps came down the hallway. A muted discussion. A tug on the door, stopped by the bar. Then a hammering. A man’s voice ordered, “All right, Isabel. Open up.”

  Isabel backed up against the bed. Her hand found Hillie and fresh strength filled her.

  If she could just last a day or two, surely help would arrive. Surely her father, or Philip, or someone, could break this siege. This siege within a siege.

  She drew in a deep breath and called out, “No. I will not open the door.”

  There was a low snort. “Lord Ingram thought you might say that. He told me to tell you that, if you don’t come out immediately, your dog’s life is forfeit. Yes, it might take us a few hours to get through this door. But we will. And when we do, the first thing we will do is slit that dog’s gullet.”

  Isabel’s throat closed up in utter shock. “You wouldn’t dare!”

  Silence.

  Isabel paled as she realized she knew the answer. The guard would slay her beloved pet as simply as he might wring a chicken’s neck for dinner. One quick draw of the blade and her beloved Hillie would be no more.

  She pressed her face against the sleeping dog, despair soaking through her. If only … if only …

  There seemed to be no other option.

  She closed her eyes and offered a silent prayer. If not for her, then for those she cared for so deeply.

  Then she pushed herself to her feet.

  A glimmer caught her eye. Steeling herself, she strode over to the shelf and took down the bolt, tucking it into her pouch. Then, drawing in a deep breath, she crossed to the door.

  She slid the bar free.

  The two guards came in, swords drawn, and their eyes brightened with satisfaction when they saw her. She fell in between them without a word, giving one last look to Hillie. And then they headed down the corridor.

  The tower’s private chapel was located on the third floor. Isabel had always found it a serene place for quiet contemplation. But today it seemed colder, harsher, with flat stone and sterile glass. Lord Ingram was waiting in there for her along with his mother. Isabel didn’t recognize the priest – she had to assume that Lord Ingram had brought the man along with him from his own household.

  Lord Ingram pointed at the two guards who had accompanied her. “You two. You need to remain as witnesses to this.”

  They nodded in obedience.

  Her voice was raspy. “I won’t do it. I won’t marry you.”

  His teeth gleamed. “But it’s too late, my dear. We have taken your four friends back into custody. They were hiding in the stables, the cowards. With all the trouble they’ve caused us, I’m beginning to think that simple death and imprisonment aren’t nearly harsh enough. I’m beginning to think that a good, long flogging might be called for. To set an example, you know.”

  Isabel swayed. He could be bluffing, of course. But what if he was not? The thought of those loyal men being flogged for Lord Ingram’s amusement took her breath away.

  Lord Ingram nodded in satisfaction. “If you agree to marry me now, without further resistance, I might be mollified. I might be swayed to honor our previous agreement. A simple death for Philip. And permanent imprisonment for the other three. They will live their lives out.”

  It was all Isabel could do to remain on her feet. Her world was closing in around her.

  She pushed the words out. “Where is my father?”

  “In his room,” replied Lord Ingram. “The emotions of the day were too much for him. He is resting quietly.”

  Isabel’s brow creased. Had Lord Ingram imprisoned her own father within his own keep? Surely the keep’s soldiers would never be party to such an act, but they might not even know of the situation. Lord Ingram now had enough men on site to stage a coup, even if the resident men turned against him.

  If she began a civil war, her own friends would be the victims. And perhaps even her father.

  She stared into the dark eyes. “How do I know, if I do marry you, that you will keep your word? How do I know Philip’s friends will be safe from future abuse? How do I know Philip –” Her voice failed her and it took a moment before she could speak again. “How do I know that Philip will have a quick, clean death?”

  He took up the Bible which lay on the altar. “I swear it on the Bible. In the name of my mother who I treasure above all others.”

  His mother beamed with immense satisfaction, her eyes gleaming in the candlelight.

  With all Isabel had endured, that smirk sent her over the edge. Perhaps her only way to escape this noose was to drive a wedge between that pair. And with where she teetered at the precipice, she was willing to try anything.

  She drew the bolt out of her pouch and tossed it on top of the altar. She rounded on Lord Ingram with sharp eyes. “Your mother. Your hallowed mother who, it seems, advises you in all things. Who guides your path in life.”

  His brow creased. “My mother cares for me greatly, as a mother should. I respect her wisdom. Her vision for my future.”

  Isabel gave a dry laugh. “You say she guides you. I think she drives you like a sheep to the paddock of her choosing.” She pointed at the bolt. “Who shot me, in that forest? Who started you down that path of wanting me for your own?”

  He blinked in surprise. “I shot you, of course. While out hunting the deer.” He shook his head. “I see the chaos of today has addled your mind. I would have thought neither of us could ever forget that day.”

  Isabel smiled in cold satisfaction. “You are wrong. Your mother set that up. Your mother shot me.”

  Lord Ingram stared at her in disbelief. “That’s impossible.”

  Isabel shrugged. “Is it? Do you find it so hard to believe your mother manipulated you into your obsession with me?” She pointed again. “You don’t have to take my word for it. See for yourself. I kept the bolt, you know. Once it was extracted from my leg. In order to remind me of how much pain you caused me that day.”

  He stared at the bolt as if it held the secrets of
the universe. Then he stepped forward to pick it up.

  He turned it in his hand –

  He stared, his mouth open.

  At last he slowly turned to his mother, the bolt laying on his open hand like an offering to the gods.

  Her eyes flashed. “You were going nowhere. Doing nothing! Obsessing over that idiotic girl who sang in the church choir. A nobody. A clock-maker’s daughter!”

  His gaze seemed lost in a distant past. “I loved Nancy.”

  She scoffed. “You lusted after her,” she corrected. “But those breasts would sag and that face would wrinkle – and then where would you be? Trapped with a creature who could provide no value at all. No social contacts. No lands. Nothing at all.”

  His hands clenched –

  A soldier ran into the room. He moved to Lord Ingram’s side and muttered something in his ear.

  Lord Ingram’s gaze flashed. “Gather the men. Get that taken care of immediately!”

  The man dipped his head and raced out.

  Lady Ingram asked, “What was that all –”

  “None of your business,” he snapped. He rounded on Isabel. “And you, you are going to marry me. Now.”

  Philip and his friends could still be free!

  She had to delay. Somehow …

  Her mind whirled – searched –

  She crossed her arms. “You haven’t gotten my father’s blessing. I refuse to get married without my father’s blessing.”

  His voice was a growl. “Did your father give Diggory his blessing?”

  “No,” she shot back, “and look how that turned out. I swore on the Holy Mary never to do that again.”

  That was the truth. Isabel had made that vow every time she attended a mass. She had poured every ounce of her soul into it.

  Lord Ingram opened his mouth –

  Isabel plunked down to sit cross-legged on the floor. She knew she was taking a risk if Lord Ingram did indeed have any of the men, but she was willing to take that chance. “That’s it. If you can’t even have my father’s blessing for this marriage, then I will not go through with it. No matter what you threaten. And if you try to force a marriage anyway without my consent, King John will be sure to negate it, and he will then make the claim that –”

  Lord Ingram threw up his hands. “All right, All right.” He called over the uninjured guard and whispered something in his ear. The guard went racing off. Lord Ingram nodded to the remaining guard and the priest. “We shall have the ceremony in the Lord Commander’s quarters. Isabel is right, after all. Her father should be present at the ceremony. It is only correct and proper.”

  Isabel’s stomach twisted. Lord Ingram was up to something. She wasn’t sure what, yet, but she was sure she was about to find out.

  She wrapped her fingers around the bolt and put it back into her pouch.

  Whatever came, she would be sure to be ready.

  Chapter 32

  The door to her father’s private quarters was open and Isabel burst through on flying feet. “Father! Father?”

  There – he was resting peacefully in bed, the blankets pulled up over him. His breath was coming in long, even draws.

  She tumbled to a stop by his side, falling onto her knees. “Father, father, wake up!”

  Lord Ingram’s voice was calm solicitude. “I told you, my dear, he has quite worn himself out with all this activity. I’m sure these past few days have taxed him more than the months leading up. And by all accounts he has done an admirable job ensuring the keep was prepared for a siege the likes of which it has never seen. No wonder that he is enjoying a well deserved rest.”

  He nodded. “Your father loves you – and he trusts in your judgement. I am sure that your decision to marry me will be praised by him the moment he wakes up.”

  Isabel moved her face closer to her father’s. “Father?”

  A bitter aroma came from his breath, laced with wine. She drew in a deeper breath.

  Dwale.

  She knew the powerful anesthetic well. It was routinely given to injured men before an operation, so they would not have to endure the pain of the procedure. Boar gall, lettuce, opium, mandrake, and a few other components combined to create a potent sedative.

  And her father was within its grasp.

  She drew heart from the thought that he was safe. He could easily have been injured, or worse, given the chaos of the situation around her.

  She twined her fingers into his. On one hand, she could insist that they wait until he wake up. But that could lead to worse threats and coercions. Lord Ingram had already stooped to holding Hillie’s life about her head. The lives of Philip and his friends. His single-minded focus on claiming the keep as his own, and her hand in marriage, was blocking him out to all else.

  Her eyes lit.

  Perhaps she could use that to her advantage.

  She gave her father’s hand one final squeeze. Then she stood. “My Lord, I thank you for allowing me to see my Father. And you are right – he trusts in me. So I am ready.”

  She looked around. “But I ask that we not do the ceremony up here in his private room. It is not meet nor proper. Let us go down to the courtyard where all can see. By the large oak tree at its center. That way all present will know of the ceremony.”

  Lady Ingram’s eyes shone with delight. “Yes, yes, that is a fine idea. Then there will be none left to gainsay our complete hold on this keep!”

  Lord Ingram nodded. “I agree. We can leave a guard –”

  Isabel shook her head. “No need – you are right. My father is exhausted and will undoubtedly sleep for long hours. You should have all guards at your side for security’s sake.”

  She put a finger to her lips as if in thought. “Why not send for Jolenta? She has been the family maid for many years. She would be quite adequate to fetch help if needed. And if she is not needed, there will be no loss in having her sit at the chair by his side.”

  Lord Ingram looked to the guard. “Fetch her. Then come down to join us.”

  The guard nodded and hobbled out the door.

  Lord Ingram put his arm out to Isabel. “And now, my dear, let us descend to the courtyard.” His face widened into a satisfied smile. “I have been looking forward to this day for longer than you can imagine.”

  Isabel took in a deep breath and then tucked her fingers into the arm. It was better if she followed along as meekly as possible for now. For, if she was right, the next hour could prove to be one of the most dangerous in her life.

  Chapter 33

  It seemed as if the entire keep’s population was once again gathered in the courtyard, but this time the focus of attention was not the headsman’s block but the ancient oak. She knew the tree well. She had climbed up into its branches countless times, watching the comings and goings of the keep’s staff. She had curled up in its roots in the drowsy summer afternoon. She had aimed snowballs at it during winter’s chill.

  And now it might see her wed to the man she’d once sworn she’d rather die than marry.

  She forced a smile on her lips and turned to the gathered group. “Come closer, come closer, so all can hear.”

  The soldiers, cooks, blacksmiths, and seamstresses all pressed in.

  Lord Ingram beamed. “Yes, my darling. Share a few words before this momentous occasion.”

  Isabel’s heart hammered against her ribs.

  Would it work?

  She had to assume that Lord Ingram had been lying about having recaptured Philip and his friends. She had no doubt that, should the men be in his control, that they would at this very moment be standing next to the block and threatened with all sorts of gruesome punishment. No, it seemed far more likely that they were still on the loose. With the amount of time which had passed, surely they were beyond Ingram’s grasp.

  Now that that had been accomplished, it was time for her next task.

  To free her home of Lord Ingram.

  She looked out over the gathered group. “I see so many familiar faces here.
Faces I have known since I was a tiny toddler. We have grown up together. We have relied on each other and looked out for each other through every adversity life could throw at us. And we have come through each challenge stronger than before.”

  There was a wave of murmured nods and agreements.

  “We have newcomers here. Men who will need our guidance on coming to know our beloved keep. I want each of the Tower’s soldiers to now find one of your new cousins – one of your freshly arrived compatriots from the Ingram House. Stand with him. For together we will create a new path. One of peace and prosperity.”

  A gentle shuffling ensued as the group realigned itself in accordance with her wishes.

  Lord Ingram nodded in approval. “Yes, yes, we need one coherent force. All under the rule of one man.”

  Isabel nervously glanced up at the curtains of her father’s room. Should she draw her speech out longer?

  A flutter of the fabric, and Jolenta’s thin face appeared in the opening. She gave a tentative nod.

  Isabel could barely breathe. She could be doing one of the most foolhardy things in her entire life – even surpassing her running off with Diggory. But she knew of no other option. To marry Lord Ingram would subject the entire keep to his complete domination. He would force her father’s compliance by threatening to harm her – and keep her under his thumb through the reverse.

  This was the only way.

  She spread her arms wide. “I want you to know how proud I am of you. Of each and every one of you. I know you would do anything you could for the safety and security of this keep. For the lives of your fellow residents. I treasure that loyalty more than you could possibly know. And because of that, there is only one man I entrust with your lives. With your protection and care. Please, attend to his words.”

  Lord Ingram beamed with pride. He stepped forward –

  From above him, a voice carried, strong and sure.