“Run!” she roared to Deborah.
Dustin had always been able to run like a deer, but Deborah was having difficulty keeping up and the pursuers were gaining. Unfortunately, they were in a deserted wing of the castle and there was no one to hear their cries for help. Yet, they were also fairly close to the rear courtyard and the paths that led to the barracks. Terror filled every inch of her body like flowing fire and her chest burned with exertion as she tore through the hall with Deborah on her heels. Lord, if they could only make it to the outside door, they would have a chance.
The door at the end of the hall that led to the outside was locked. They pulled and tore at it, but the bolt was locked and they obviously had no key. Despair swept over Dustin and Deborah began a panicked chant, but neither would give up. Being intelligent woman who were fighting for their very lives, they saw a chance to escape through the latticed windows.
Dustin smashed the wood with her hands, scraping and cutting them, but that was nothing compared to what would happen to her if the molesters caught up to them. She boosted Deborah up through the window first, shoving the woman roughly through the small opening. Then, with Deborah’s help, she managed to thrust herself through the orifice, tearing her surcoat to shreds with the jagged wood as she squirmed through, all the while hearing the footsteps growing deafeningly loud as the men caught up to them. With every footstep, her heart pounded harder and when she finally slipped through the window and fell to the ground, it was with a shout of triumphant relief.
Deborah yanked her to her feet and they were off and running again, pounding over the frozen earth but sweating rivers with the exertion. A glance over her shoulder told Dustin that at least two pursuers had made it through the window and were even now racing after them.
“Deborah,” she gasped. “Can you make it to the barracks?”
Deborah was losing ground, jeopardizing them both. “I….I can try.”
Dustin’s heart was sinking even lower; she could not leave Deborah behind but she obviously could not carry her. Dustin knew she could make it to the barracks easily, slowing now to keep pace with her sister-in-law. But any slower and they would be caught.
“Go for the castle,” Dustin heaved. “Find the soldiers!”
An entrance to a main portion of the castle was off to the right; Deborah could make it and then find help. The crown soldiers would protect her to the death. There was simply no way Deborah was going to make it all the way to the troop grounds, and Dustin knew she had to make it to her husband or she would never see him again. She knew instinctively the pursuers were after her. If she and Deborah split up, she hoped they would concentrate more on her and give Deborah a chance to escape.
“But… Dustin!” she cried. “I cannot leave you.”
“Leave me or we’re both lost!” Dustin shrieked. “Into the castle. Now!”
She heard Deborah’s panting cries as she darted off for the castle. Dustin didn’t even look to see how many were pursuing her sister-in-law; she was confident Deborah could find help before they were able to catch her.
Dustin bound down one of the paths that led through the wall and out into the open. As she was entering the short tunnel, something hit the wall beside her and she shrieked; she caught a flash of metal and knew it to be a well-aimed dagger. Driven by new terror, she tore through the tunnel with amazing speed and emerged into the clearing that preceded the troop grounds.
The dead shrubs provided no coverage as she raced through them, snagging her legs on the dry branches. Her chest was close to exploding with the pain of her run, but she forced the discomfort away. She knew she must be completely focused on her destination or all would be lost.
Dustin could hear the footsteps behind her, faint but unmistakable. It was no time before she emerged onto an open field, sloping toward the vast arena and training grounds of the troops. It had begun to mist, freezing water coating her, but she tore down the slope hearing her heart pounding in her ears and praying to God to let her make it to Christopher. She could not even think of Deborah anymore; she was only concerned with her own precious hide.
She rounded the side of the arena and was met with the sounds of a horse thundering toward her. Knowing it was a pursuer coming to catch her, she dipped under the wooden rail of the arena to separate herself from the horseman, catching a glimpse of him from the corner of her eye and hearing shouts as he re-routed his men. Dustin tore a wild trail across the arena, the very same arena where Christopher had been injured, and scampered out the other side into a bank of dormant oak trees.
Dustin could see people up ahead of her at the stables and she screamed at the top of her lungs to them to find Baron Christopher. Her whole body was aching desperately and she knew she could not go much farther; she could only pray that the stunned groomsmen would help her.
She could hear that damnable horse again, behind her and gaining rapidly. Fortunately, she was closer to the stables now and she ran an obstacle course through a couple of wagons, pulling the front of one askew to slow her pursuers. She raced inside to one of the enclosed stable wings and ran down the wide open corridor, hoping the man on horseback wouldn’t pursue her inside the stable. Her ears peaked, for she no longer heard the hooves and a fleeting bit of hope touched her. Mayhap she would make it, after all.
But the hope was premature, for as soon as she exited the stable, the man on horseback was waiting for her. Dustin skidded to a halt and crashed into the horse, slamming heavily into it and landing on her arse. Panic surging through her, she scrambled underneath the dancing animal and fought off an assailant who tried to grab her skirts. Screaming bloody murder at them, she stumbled and ran off as fast as her shaky legs would carry her.
There was shouting going on all around her, but she was too consumed with her own fear to see that the stable hands were fighting off her attackers, stabbing them with pitchforks and trying to slow their progress. She continued to run, her breathing coming in ragged gasps, straining to keep the pace as she madly dashed along the L-shaped back of stalls and rounded the corner. Relief began to fill her when she saw the barracks and several hundred troops not far ahead.
But her head was beginning to swim and her arms and legs were beginning to feel strange, as if she were losing control over them. But she pushed, pushed, pushed; pressing onward because her very life hung in the balance. She had to make it to the soldiers or die.
Through her swirling vision, she saw men in armor running toward her and she knew with flooding relief she had reached safety. But she could not seem to stop running until one of the men reached out and grabbed her.
“Jesus. Dustin!” It was David. “What is the mat…?”
He was cut off and she heard a huge crash of metal on metal. Dustin screamed and fell away from David, trying to scramble away from him as she heard the unmistakable sounds of a sword fight over her head. There was a great deal of shouting and yelling, and suddenly she was surrounded by soldiers. Someone grabbed at her, but she slapped at them and whirled away, taking two or three swaggering steps before collapsing in an exhausted heap on the frozen earth.
Dustin was still conscious but so miserable and wiped out that she almost didn’t care what happened to her anymore. She lay on her back, harsh gasps for air filling her ears and her head was rocking wildly. Tears of pure agony filled her eyes as the sounds of swordplay grew fainter and then there was someone beside her. She jumped, making a feeble attempt to rise, but a huge hand stilled her.
“Christ, Dustin, are you all right? What happened?” Christopher gathered his wife up against him.
Dustin could not breathe because sobs were constricting her throat, and she could not talk because she could not breathe. The sobs won over the talking, but she was gasping so she sounded as if she were dying. She felt like it, too.
“Calm down, sweetheart, calm down,” Christopher said soothingly, ripping off his helmet. “You are safe now. Just breathe, sweet, breathe.”
She was trying to, truly, but
she could not seem to catch her breath. “Deborah,” she rasped.
Christopher was already filled with panic as his wife struggled to breathe in his arms, but when she spat his sister’s name, his panic doubled. He whirled to the nearest knight. “Go find my sister,” he barked. “Take a company of men with you.”
“In….in the castle,” Dustin gasped. “The west w-wing.”
The knight heard and was gone, roaring to the men-at-arms as he went. Dustin could only lay there, in agony with every breath she took, trying to calm herself down.
Edward bent over her, his handsome face creased with concern. Christopher held out his gloved hand to him and Edward silently ripped the gauntlet off. Christopher’s left hand, the wedding band gleaming dully in the dim daylight, caressed Dustin’s flushed face. He didn’t speak, knowing she needed a moment to collect herself, and then he would know all.
Dustin’s hands flew to her face, covering it for a moment as her breathing calmed. Then, the fingers splayed and the great gray eyes opened and focused on her husband.
“Earl….the Earl of Fenwark tried to kill me,” she finally whispered. “You must find Deborah.”
“What?” Christopher said, outraged. “What are you saying?”
She struggled to sit up, Edward gently pulling her arm and Christopher supporting her back. Between coughs and sniffles, she managed to spit out the entire story. When she was finished, Christopher’s face was the picture of fury and it scared the wits from her.
“Then those men chasing you were assassins.” It was more a statement than a question, and he looked at Edward. “All of my knights to me. Now.”
Edward nodded grimly and rushed off, his armor jingling. Dustin, infinitely more composed, brushed stray bits of hair from her face and watched her husband closely. His gaze seemed to be following Edward, even after the man had disappeared from view, before returning to her once again. When he saw how intently she was looking at him, he smiled bravely. Too bravely.
“My courageous little wife,” he said as he leaned forward and kissed her head. “Do you feel well enough to stand from this damp earth?”
Dustin, suspicious of his ready smile, nodded and rose unsteadily to her feet. Christopher kept a good grip on her, watching as his soldiers hauled away one of the men who had been chasing after his wife. He saw, with pleasure, that his men had literally disemboweled the bastard. Dustin watched, too, with morbid curiosity but turned away as they passed by.
“What are you going to do now?” she asked. “Lady Isobelle said the earl was moving his army north tonight and that he plans to attack Tickhill Castle. She wanted you to know. But her story about Lady Gabrielle… can you imagine that her husband gave her to the prince as a gift? I have never heard of such a vile thing.”
Christopher digested the information, his cunning mind beginning to calculate the course of the immediate future. He wasn’t surprised to hear the information; in fact, he was grateful, at least for the intelligence on Tickhill. There had been rumors but nothing concrete. Now, he had a starting place.
“I am not shocked,” he admitted. “What else did she say?”
Dustin shook her head. “That was all before… before…,” she trailed off, unable to voice such horror. Her gaze moved to Christopher’s face, seeing that he seemed inordinately calm. “What are you going to do? Are you going, too?”
He stroked the top of her blond head. “I do not know, sweet. I am only concerned with you right now.”
“And Deborah,” she insisted. “She cannot run as fast as I can and….”
He glanced down at her lowered head and saw she was trying hard to fight off the tears. God help the earl if his sister had come to any harm; as it was now, he was going to kill the man mercifully. If the worst had happened to Deborah, then Christopher would make sure the earl’s death was a slow, painful one.
David jogged up, his eyes riveted to Dustin. “Are you all right, Dustin? Did they hurt you?”
She sniffled, wiping quickly at her eyes. “Nay, David, I am unharmed.”
He looked her over, her disheveled surcoat and bleeding hands and shook his head. Then he looked to his brother. “Edward is rallying Nicholas de Burg, Sean de Lara and Guy de le Rosa to reinforce our ranks. With Marcus and Dud missing, we could use the strength.” He felt the familiar taste of a fight in the air and was tense with anticipation, knowing not who they would be fighting to avenge the attack on Dustin, yet knowing soon they would be facing a battle.
Christopher nodded curtly, obviously preoccupied as his wife clung to his waist. “I have been working with them since I have arrived here and I feel they have proved themselves worthy of my inner circle. Edward and I talked on this subject yesterday,” he said, then his gaze fell on his brother. “David, go with Dustin and help her pack.”
“Pack?” Both Dustin and David repeated loudly.
David eyed his brother with displeasure, knowing that Christopher planned to get to the bottom of who had attacked his wife, and furthermore wanted to accompany him. He didn’t want his brother fighting without him. “Send a company of men with her to help her pack. My place is with you.”
“You heard me,” Christopher said in a low voice. “She returns to Lioncross today. Deborah, too, and I want you with them while I tend to the earl. Send word ahead to Max and Anthony that they are coming; I want them to meet my wife and sister on the road.”
David shook his head. “My place is with you,” he repeated steadily, advancing on his brother. “You have got an entire squadron of men assigned to your wife. They will protect her while we take care of whoever has attacked your wife.”
Christopher raised an eyebrow at his shorter, younger brother. “Do not argue with me, David.”
“I am not,” David replied evenly, clenching his fists. “But I am going with you.”
Dustin watched the two of them, not at all happy with their body language for they looked as if to brawl any moment. It was a terrible cap to a terrible morning and she began to cry.
“Stop fighting,” she sobbed.
They both looked at her and were instantly remorseful. “We are not fighting,” Christopher said, pulling her close. “We never fight. We disagree, but we never fight. David?”
David made a wry face at his brother. “Never.”
Christopher ignored the implication and kissed Dustin on the top of the head. “I need to talk to David alone a moment.”
He let her go, concerned when she wobbled, but she waved him off. He pulled David aside.
“John is preparing to launch a strike against Tickhill Castle before the end of the week,” he told him quietly. “The Earl of Fenwark’s sister informed Dustin of his plans and asked her to tell me, having overheard her brother speak of them. I want Dustin out of Windsor and back to Lioncross immediately; you saw what nearly happened to her. She is being pulled deeper and deeper into something that does not concern her.”
David was confused. “Is that what this is all about? Jesus, why should the earl’s sister tell Dustin of his plans?”
“Because Dustin befriended Lady Gabrielle, the earl’s wife.” Christopher had no time to explain all of this. “The earl killed his own sister because she relayed the information to my wife, for Christ’s sake. Had he been successful in his attack on Dustin, we would most likely be picking up pieces of her, and God only knows what’s become of Deborah. I want both of them away from this place.”
David looked as if he had completely forgotten about his sister. “Jesus. Where is Deborah?”
“I sent Sean de Lara and a company of men out to find her. She and Dustin were together at the beginning of the chase but split up, so I hold hope that our sister has found safety,” Christopher replied. “But I want you to find out what has become of Deborah when you have settled my wife. And keep Sean with you; I am demanding his loyalty to me, as well.”
“I thought you wanted me to help Dustin pack?” David pointed out.
Christopher gave him an intolerable look
. “I changed my mind. My wife has an entire company of soldiers assigned to her, no one will get past them.”
David nodded without the grin he was feeling. “Then we leave tonight?”
Christopher glanced at Dustin, longing already filling his heart. “Aye,” he replied. “After I take care of the earl, we leave.”
David’s adrenalin flowed quicker and harder than just about anyone. He could feel his energy surge, eager to get a lick at the earl for what he had done to the ladies, and eager more to be on the battlefield once again. The man was a born warrior.
As requested, Christopher’s knights were soon congregated around him. Edward, Leeton, and David were joined by three new faces. Dustin had seen the men before, serving her husband, but he had not allowed them around her. She knew from Marcus that Christopher was extremely selective about the knights who personally served him and assumed that these men must have met her husband’s standards.
Sir Nicholas de Burg was a nice looking man in his mid-twenties, his dark hair longer than the others. Sir Sean de Lara was a very young, very handsome knight with a massively muscular build, and Sir Guy de le Rosa spoke with a heavy Spanish accent and had a broad smile that showed every tooth in his head. Dustin watched her husband explain the situation to the men and saw their pleased faces when Christopher asked for their pledge to him. Actually, he demanded their pledge, but the men were more than willing to give it. These men were knights, independent of a liege other than Richard, and were pleased to be committing service to the Lion’s Claw. Satisfied that his knight ranks were growing stronger by the day, Christopher gave each man individual orders and dismissed them.
David came to Dustin, taking her shaking arm. “Time to pack, Lady de Lohr.”
Christopher broke away from his private conference with Edward to see his wife and brother off. “I shall meet up with you later,” he told his brother, then affectionately stroked his wife’s cheek. “Are you going to have enough trunks? God only knows how much we have acquired since we have come to London.”
The de Lohr Dynasty Page 62