“Excellent work, Felix,” Luke said. “I’m lucky to have a man with your talents at my disposal.”
Felix’s chest expanded to twice its size. “Thank you, milord!”
Luke ordered the boys back to their own homes, watching as they dispersed to make sure none of them lingered around the storehouse to “stand guard.” Letting Orrik get his hands on them would ill repay them for effecting his escape.
For a few long moments he gazed up at the shuttered windows of Faithe’s bedchamber, wondering if it would ever be their bedchamber again. He actually took a step toward the house before drawing himself up shortly.
Luke wanted to see her—needed to see her—but now was not the time. Although he was fairly sure he could slip into the house undetected, Alex was out in the middle of the woods somewhere, bound and gagged and waiting for the wolves. They might even have come by now. Getting to him had to take priority over seeing Faithe.
Turning on his heels, Luke sprinted to the fish pond, keeping to the shadows and creating as little noise as possible, and located the sunken hut Felix had directed him to. Only the thatched roof and about two feet of wall were aboveground. Dim light filtered between the ill-fitting slats of wood with which the humble dwelling was constructed. He heard voices from within, and the jabbering of a baby.
Squatting down, Luke whipped aside the bearskin covering the doorway. A woman shrieked; the baby in her arms started crying; a dog barked. Half a dozen faces looked up from bowls of something—it smelled like peas—that they were eating around the fire pit. None of the faces belonged to Firdolf.
“Milord!” someone said—a man of middle years. Luke recognized him as Eldred Woodward, Firdolf’s father. He grabbed the dog, an enormous black beast—as it tried to lunge for the doorway. Luke had taken a step down into the hut, but backed up swiftly; he’d stay right where he was.
“Where’s your son?” Luke demanded, looking from Eldred to his wife, Meghan, busily unlacing her kirtle as she shushed the shrieking infant.
“Beggin’ your pardon, milord,” Eldred said as he struggled to hold tight to the rope around the snarling cur’s neck, “but I thought you was locked up in the storehouse.”
“Not anymore.”
Eldred smiled and nodded, seeming perfectly satisfied with that answer. “That’s a right ugly eye you got there, sire.”
“Where’s Firdolf?” Luke repeated.
“Dunno,” Eldred said.
“I know he’s been back.”
“Aye, he come back,” Meghan said as she withdrew a ripe breast and shoved the nipple into the babe’s mouth, instantly quieting him. “But then his sweetheart come for him, and he went out again.”
“She ain’t his sweetheart,” a young girl said with an elaborate roll of her eyes. “He just wishes she was.” She snickered, and her siblings joined in.
“Are you talking about...” Which twin was it that Firdolf had taken a fancy to?
“Leola,” the girl supplied. “She wears the one braid.”
“Aye, that’s the one.” Meghan leaned over her suckling babe to spoon some soup into her mouth.
“When did she come for him?” Luke asked, shifting his weight as he squatted in the doorway.
“Right after he come back,” Eldred said.
The dog writhed and growled, baring long, discolored teeth. It had yellow eyes, like a wolf. Luke thought about Alex lying in the dark woods, bound and gagged, and shivered.
“He up and left in the blink of an eye,” the girl said, grinning.
“I would too, if she’d of come for me,” Eldred muttered under his breath. Meghan lifted her skirt and shot a foot out, catching him in the shin. “Ow!”
“Do you know where they went?”Luke asked.
There came a flurry of shaking heads.
“He were gone just like that,” Meghan said.
“Just like that,” her daughter echoed.
Luke sighed. “Where do they live, the twins?”
“They’ve got a place all their own,” Meghan said, on account of their parents is dead and their older sisters is all married off. Tis back behind Hauekleah Hall, near the punfold, where the stray animals are kept. They’ve got flowers growin’ in a trough out front.”
Luke retraced his steps swiftly, cursing every moment’s delay in getting to Alex. He gave Hauekleah Hall as wide a berth as possible as he darted quietly among the house servants’ cottages until he came to the one Meghan had described.
Through the cottage’s open window he saw the twin with two braids, Lynette, stuffing bread and cheese and fruit into a satchel by the light of a lantern as she stood at a table.
He entered the cottage without knocking. Lynette squealed and dropped the satchel. “Oh, ‘tis you, milord!” she whispered. “How’d you get out of the storehouse? Oh, look at your poor eye!”
“Where’s your sister?”
She pressed a finger to her lips and cut her eyes toward a curtain stretched across the width of the cottage, dividing it in half.
“In there? Is he with her?”
“You mean Firdolf? Aye, but—”
Luke strode toward the curtain, but she grabbed him by the tunic.
“Let me go!” He twisted out of her grasp. “I’m going to make him tell me where he left Alex.”
“Leola’s already set herself to that task, milord.”
A muffled moan came from beyond the curtain, a man’s moan. Bed ropes squeaked.
“Ah,” Luke said.
“He didn’t want to tell her what he done with Sir Alex, ‘cause Orrik told him not to, and he’s afraid of Orrik.” She gazed up at him through lowered lashes. “But Leola can usually change a fellow’s mind about things.”
Feminine whispers floated through the curtain.
“Oh,” Firdolf groaned. “Oh... oh God.”
Lynette took a step toward Luke and reached up to gingerly touch the stinging flesh around his eye. “What a nasty thing to do to such a lovely eye,” she cooed. “Does it hurt?”
“Nay,” he lied, backing up until he felt the table behind him.
She made tsking sounds as she drew closer. “You mustn’t deny it. I know how it must pain you. I’d dearly love to make it better.”
Her hands stole up to rest on his shoulders. He took them and lowered them to her sides. “The Lady Faithe tends to my wounds. Just her.”
Lynette smiled slowly. “How lucky for her,” she murmured.
“Oh, yes!” Firdolf gasped. “Yes! Oh my God, Leola!” The squeaking quickened, keeping time with his harsh breathing.
Lynette continued to smile at Luke. He slid sideways to put some distance between them. Turning, he indicated the satchel full of food. “Do you mean to take that to Alex?”
“Aye, soon as we find out where he is.”
“Hold still,” Firdolf growled. “Yes... yes...”
“I should think you’ll have your answer soon,” Luke observed.
“What are you doing?” Firdolf explained in breathless outrage. “Come back here! Leola, for God’s sake, I’m just about to—”
“I don’t know, Firdy. I just don’t feel right enjoying myself like this, knowin’ Sir Alex is out there in the middle of the woods somewheres...”
Firdolf made a sound between a groan and a whimper. “Leola, please. You can’t stop now.”
“I wouldn’t, if I knew I could go fetch him after we’re done here, but I don’t even know where to find him, and you won’t tell me. Perhaps if you told me...
“He’s in the woods to the southwest. In a clearing. I’ll tell you how to get there, just please finish—” He sucked in a breath. “Oh! Yes...” The bed ropes set up a furious racket, and presently Firdolf let out an ecstatic howl the likes of which Luke had never heard before.
Moments later, the curtain flew open. Leola stood there, wearing a dressing gown that hid little, inasmuch as it was open down the front. On a large bed behind her, Firdolf sprawled naked, his eyes closed, his chest still pumping.
Leola smiled with delight when she saw Luke. “Milord! You got out!”
Firdolf bolted upright, gaping at Luke and clutching the sheet between his legs.
“You poor thing,” Leola purred as she approached Luke. “Look at your eye.”
Lynette cleared her throat and indicated her sister’s open robe. “Leola, sweetie...”
“Oh. Right.” Leola’s movements were unhurried as she covered herself and tied the sash. “Good news. Firdolf’s agreed to tell us where he put Sir Alex.” She turned toward her bed partner, who continued to stare at Luke in abject terror. “Ain’t that right, Firdy?”
The young man appeared to be nodding his head, but he might have just been shaking.
“Firdy?” Luke prompted.
“Right!” he croaked, bobbing his head up and down. “I’m sorry, sire, I was only doin’ what Orrik told me. I didn’t want to...”
Luke strode toward him purposefully, causing him to shield his head with an arm. “Just tell me where he is,” Luke said.
“In... in the woods southwest of here.”
“I know that. How do I find him?”
“T-take the road till you come to the second stream, and follow it south. When it b-branches, go right. When you see the stand of birch, leave the stream and ride straight for the tall boulder. There’s a kind of clearing beyond there that dips down, like a little valley. That’s where I put him.”
Turning away, Luke grabbed the satchel off the table on his way out the door, ignoring Firdolf’s litany of apologies and the twins’ pleading to come with him. “Don’t tell anyone I was here.”
The stable was close by, and blessedly deserted. Saddling up his mount and Alex’s, which he led by the reins, he followed Firdolf’s directions through the woods, guiding himself by the bright moonlight.
Relief consumed him when he spied the tall boulder that marked the drop-off to the clearing where Firdolf had left Alex.
And then he heard the growls.
Chapter 23
The silvery beasts slinked in the moonlight, circling their quarry as wolves were wont to do. Luke had to strain to make out the dark form in their midst, obscured as he was by tall grasses. Alex lay on his side, his hands and feet tied, a white cloth wrapped around his mouth. The grassy hollow was larger than Luke had expected; his brother was a good hundred yards away.
As Luke rode forward, a wolf broke away from the pack and lunged for Alex, only to retreat when his prey kicked out with his bound feet. They’d probably been harrying him this way for some time—feinting in and out while they worked up their collective courage to attack; although ruthless hunters, wolves tended to be wary of men.
The largest one, less cautious than the others, rushed in and closed its jaws around Alex’s leg before he could respond. Luke kicked his horse into a gallop as the wolf pulled and tugged, ripping Alex’s chausses; Luke saw dark smears of blood on his brother’s calf. This success emboldened some of the others; they pounced on their helpless victim with ravenous growls.
The animals who’d hung back to watch all scattered when Luke reined in his mount and jumped down. The four who’d closed in on Alex merely bared their fangs, their hackles raised, low rumbles of warning issuing from them.
“Over here!” Luke yelled, waving his arms. The large one took a few lazy, menacing steps toward him. Luke withdrew Baldric’s knife—an inadequate weapon, but all he had—and held it at the ready. “Come on! Come on, you godforsaken curs!”
The big wolf leapt; Luke ducked and rolled, slashing out with the knife. A canine yelp told him he’d done at least a little damage. A ripping sound, along with a hot sting of pain on his shoulder, told him the damage wasn’t one-sided.
The great beast turned and charged again. Luke dropped the useless knife and wrapped his hands around a big rock, slamming it into the wolf’s head as it leapt. A chilling howl rose from it as it staggered back. Heaving the rock overhead, Luke delivered a final, mortal blow; the animal trembled and went slack.
Still holding the bloodied rock, Luke turned to face the three remaining wolves, all stealthily retreating. He lifted it high, roaring at the top of his lungs for good measure. The wolves darted away, three streaks of silver dissolving into the night.
Throwing down the rock, Luke located the knife and slid it beneath his brother’s gag, slicing it off with one stroke.
“That’s six,” Alex said.
“Six what?” Luke cut through the ropes knotted around Alex’s wrists and ankles.
“Six times you’ve saved my life. And I haven’t saved yours once.” Alex sat up awkwardly, with a little help from Luke. “You’ll have to slow down, so I have a chance to catch up.”
“If I slow down,” Luke observed, “you’ll end up dead, and you never will have the chance to catch up.”
Alex grinned crookedly. “Good point. Anyway, thanks.” He clapped Luke on the shoulder, igniting a jolt of pain that made him gasp. “Damn,” Alex muttered, looking at the blood on his hand. “Son of a bitch got you.”
“You, too.” Luke peeled aside the shredded remnants of wool clinging to the gash on his brother’s calf. Luckily, it was shallow.
“Then there’s Orrik’s handiwork,” Alex said, indicating Luke’s head wound and swollen eye and the purpling knot on his own forehead.
“I wouldn’t mind paying him back for that,” Luke grunted as he got to his feet.
“And I can’t say I’d mind helping you.” Alex let Luke help him to stand up and mount his horse. He laughed like the Devil when Luke told him how Leola had coaxed his whereabouts out of Firdolf. “He’s been sniffing around her all summer.”
“You’re not jealous?” Luke asked as they rode across the clearing toward the woods.
“Serves me right. I’ve been greedy, keeping both girls for myself. Besides, she did it for me, and I actually think she’s a little sweet on that fellow. Of course,” he added with a grin, “she’s a little sweet on just about anything in chausses. She and her sister both. Don’t tell me they haven’t rubbed up against you from time to time.”
“I won’t,” Luke said dryly.
Alex laughed again. “But I take it you resisted their charms.”
“I’m married.”
“You sound like Father,” Alex said, his voice quietly mocking. Before Luke could retort, he added, “That’s a compliment. He was a good man, and he knew what was important in life. There are worse fates than being like him.” As they entered the woods, he asked, “Where to now, brother?”
“Foxhyrst,” Luke answered immediately. “I’ll turn myself over to Alberic and demand to be taken to London for trial by King William.”
Alex made a face. “Wouldn’t you rather go back to Hauekleah and give Orrik a spoonful of his own tonic?”
“And then what? I’ve admitted publicly that I killed Caedmon. Do you think Faithe can simply go on as if nothing has happened? I’ve deceived her horribly. I’ve got to make up for all the lying and covering up, got to undo the damage and win her back.”
Alex shook his head in resignation. “All right, but why put yourself in Alberic’s hands? The man despises you. Why not ride to London on your own and present yourself to the king?”
“Protocol demands that I surrender myself to the sheriff and that he brings me to the king. Don’t worry. Alberic hates me, it’s true, but he would never risk William’s wrath by taking matters into his own hands.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“I’m going to do everything the proper way for once, so that there can be no question of my good intentions. I’ve got to get everything out in the open—be tried in the king’s court, explain things, and be officially exonerated.” He took a deep breath. “When all of that is behind me, I can work on... winning Faithe back. Regaining her love.”
“Assuming you’ve lost it.”
“Any other assumption,” Luke said grimly, “would be the most pathetic wishful thinking.”
* * *
Upo
n returning to Hauekleah, Faithe woke up young Bert, who slept in the stable. He blinked in drowsy confusion when he saw her standing over him in the dark, holding her mare’s reins. “Milady! Is that you?”
“Tend to Daisy.” She handed him the reins. “I rode her too hard.”
“Wh-what hour is it, milady?” Bert asked as she walked away.
“Nearly matins, I should think.” Nearly matins, she reflected as she made her way by moonlight to Hauekleah Hall. It was the middle of the night, and she was as exhausted as her horse, and greatly troubled. She’d covered many miles searching for Alex, only to find no evidence that he’d been that way. This did not bode well.
Detouring to the kitchen, she procured a wineskin and some bread, then lit a lantern and carried it out the back door to the moonlit croft. As she approached the storehouse, she hesitated. Nyle was nowhere to be seen. When she saw the keys dangling from the door handle, she was truly puzzled.
She knocked on the door. “Luke?”
No answer came.
“Luke?”
Dread crept up her spine. She couldn’t shake the image of Vance hanging from the rafters of this very storehouse. Her fingers shook as she turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open.
Holding the lantern before her like a talisman, she stepped into the storehouse. “Luke?”
Faithe dropped the wine and bread when she saw him, bound and gagged on the dirt floor. The realization that he wasn’t Luke but Baldric, brought a moment’s relief, but...
“Where is Luke?”
Baldric, thrashed and grunted. Setting the lantern down, she pulled off his gag and began untying him. “Where is my husband? What’s happened to him?”
“Obviously,” intoned a voice from behind her, “he’s escaped.”
Faithe turned to find Orrik blocking the doorway, his hands fisted on his hips, his eerily luminous eyes fixed on Baldric.
“I... I’m sorry, Master Orrik, truly I am, but he tricked me! He used them kids. They told me—”
“You whine like a weasel, Baldric. Have you no shame?”
Baldric stood and rubbed his wrists, looking terrified. “‘Twasn’t my fault, master, I swear it!”
Lords of Conquest Boxed Set Page 100