“Aye, there are many who fear the shadows,” the guard agreed, clearly not finding himself among their ranks.
“Oho, so speaks a man who has weathered similar storms. Are you wed then?”
The guard shook his head. “Never found a one that seemed worth the trouble,” he replied and both men turned to watch Alienor.
She whispered “purgatory” under her breath and the two men exchanged a glance that spoke volumes.
“You have a point of merit there,” Jordan conceded. “For she has been no end of trouble this day, although—” he dropped his voice to a whisper “—’twas her threat of a cold bed that truly caught my ear. She is a fetching wench, and should she have her desire this night, I might have more of mine on the morrow.”
The guard chuckled. “Aye, your meaning is clear enough to me.”
Jordan leaned closer to whisper to the guard. “I would not insult an honorable man with mere coin, but ’twould be of great interest to me to see the lady’s whim met this night, should you understand my meaning.”
“There is little enough that I might do,” the guard replied. His gaze dropped to Jordan’s purse at the unmistakable jingle of coins.
“Surely you can understand that I have no desire to spend the night listening to the lady weep. I would much rather sleep in anticipation of my nuptial night.” Jordan elbowed the guard and winked, drawing a grin from his potential co-conspirator. “Who should know but you and me?” Jordan demanded in a whisper, jingling those coins again.
The guard licked his lips nervously.
“She has a younger sister,” Jordan lied in a lower tone. “Untouched and lovely as the dawn.” The guard’s interest was obvious. “I could arrange an introduction, either by night or day.”
The guard cast a glance over his shoulder, then leaned closer to Jordan. “The jailer would need encouragement, as well.”
Jordan clapped him on the shoulder. “Truly you are an honorable man to think so of your comrades.” He spoke warmly, and the guard smiled. “But in truth, she has only one sister.”
“That part of the wager will be our secret,” the guard said. “Show me your coin.”
“I show you but one until you name your price.” Jordan tossed a coin into the air so that it flashed in the darkness. The guard caught it expertly and bit the silver between his teeth, nodding approval at the softness of the metal. “’Tis yours.”
“Truly you are anxious,” the guard said with newfound suspicion.
Jordan merely laughed. “I have waited long for this wench and I would not have the taking of her sacrificed for a mere coin or two.”
“I will be only a moment,” the guard replied. His gaze darted along the corridor between the great hall and the street before he turned and strode quickly into the palace.
Alienor thought he could not make sufficient haste. She continued to weep, but feared all the while that the guard meant to reveal them.
When the guard returned and confessed his victory in convincing the jailer, Alienor feigned delight in Jordan’s success. She kissed his cheeks and his hands, vowing her devotion to him. He had to pull away to count out the sum of coins for the guard.
“This way,” the guard directed them.
Alienor once again feared that they had been discovered, for the guard indicated a darkened passageway and not the path she had taken originally through the great hall. There was a door in the shadows at the end of the corridor. When it was opened, the smell that rose from the concealed stairs convinced her that they were headed for the dungeons in truth.
But were they being imprisoned themselves? Her heart pounded with the uncertainty of it all and she was sure her distress was obvious. Jordan jested with the guard as they walked and apparently saw nothing amiss. The guard’s casual manner and the way he swung his keys made Alienor doubt her fears. The jailer greeted them with avarice shining in his eyes and she was relieved when she saw ’twas a different man on duty than had been before. She dared to hope that Jordan’s plan would succeed.
“Might I have a moment alone with him?” she begged.
“To what purpose?” Jordan scowled as the jailer led the way toward the cell with jingling keys. “I have taken enough trouble in bringing you here this night for you to be asking yet another favor.”
“Indeed, chéri. I know ’tis foolish, but he knows naught of you, of us, and I would tell him the tale alone,” she explained for their audience.
Jordan waved one hand. “No matter is it to me,” he replied. “Tell him or not, for ’tis of no relevance to me. I have no desire to meet the man!”
“You are too good to me, chéri.” Alienor whispered. She pressed a kiss against Jordan’s ear and let her voice drop to a sultry whisper. “I shall repay your indulgence a hundred times over.”
Jordan winked at the jailer and the man smothered a grin as he unlocked the door to Dagobert’s cell.
“You have a guest, great king,” he announced and there was a rustle in the darkness of the small chamber. The jailer gave Alienor the lamp and she nodded her thanks.
Then she stepped into the cell with a pounding heart. She jumped as the door clanged shut behind her, a gasp falling from her lips as Dagobert leapt out of the shadows, fury lighting his eyes.
“Why did that snake bring you here?” Dagobert demanded in a low voice, ignoring the quick shake of Alienor’s head. She put down the lamp and closed the space between them with quick steps, raising her fingertips to his lips. She would repay him a hundred times over? The overheard words burned a quick path right to his heart.
’Twas one thing if she was obliged to Jordan for her freedom. ’Twas quite another if she had so lost her wits that she trusted him.
He caught her shoulders in her hands and lifted her toward him. “Tell me!”
“’Tis not important,” she argued in a whisper. “You must listen...”
“’Tis important to me!” Dagobert replied. “What lies has he told you? Where is Eustache?”
“I do not know,” she confessed. “I have not seen Eustache since we left Montsalvat.”
“So, ’twas Jordon who paid for your release.”
She nodded and parted her lips to speak again.
“At what price, Alienor? At what price?” He watched her frown and had to turn away. “I heard you call him chéri with my own ears! Chéri!” He clenched his fists in frustration and prowled the perimeter of the cell like a caged beast.
She had never called him by any term of endearment and Dagobert knew it well.
How he hated the prospect that Jordan had won her love while he had not.
“You must listen to me,” Alienor urged.
“Do you love him?” He pivoted and caught her chin in one hand, then stared into her eyes. She held his gaze without flinching and he wondered if he had matters aright. Curse Eustache for filling his thoughts with suspicions for so long!
“Vexing man,” she whispered with heat. Those amber eyes flashed as they had the day that Dagobert found her launching shoes across their chamber in Montsalvat. “Jordan and I came this night to free you.”
“He would never aid in my escape, especially if that meant you had a defender,” Dagobert argued.
Alienor shook her head wildly, holding her finger to his lips. “They will hear!” she hissed and he dropped his tone to a harsh whisper.
“He can have no intent of saving my hide, unless he means to profit by hunting me anew. If he claims as much, he has lied to you, Alienor. He means to trick us both, ’tis clear. Though he might savor the sport, I will forgo that dubious pleasure and remain here.”
“You are wrong, sir,” she whispered. “We come together to your aid.”
“You cannot have expected me to believe as much.”
She smiled, just a little, and her eyes shone. “I did anticipate an argument, to be sure, but there is no time, Dagobert. You must do as I say.”
“So, he can deceive us both? Nay, Alienor, nay.” He shook his head. “Go with
the cur and see yourself out of this place, at least. Then flee, flee back south. They will shelter you at Montsalvat, in memory of me.”
“You must come with us!”
Her faith in Jordan was undeserved, but he admired that she could believe the best of even such a man. Dagobert’s heart clenched and he looked down at her, wishing it was not a ruse. He kissed her forehead, feeling his tears rise. “Be well, my lady. ’Twas a gift unexpected to look upon you once more.”
“Dagobert! You do not listen!” Rosy color blossomed in her cheeks as she chided him and Dagobert knew no woman could compare with the charms of his wife.
One last time. Her lips parted to make some additional argument but he would hear none of it. There was naught to be gained by dissent at this point. They had wasted too much precious time already.
He should be taking advantage of this unexpected opportunity.
Dagobert caught Alienor close, savoring the feel of her in his embrace. He smiled down at her and watched her eyes light with pleasure, then bent to close his lips over hers. So sweet. So yielding and so passionate. She had always welcomed him and she did as much again, despite his state. His kiss grew more demanding as she melted against him and for a glorious moment, he forgot his situation. There was only his lady wife. The taste and smell of Alienor filled his senses, her curves filled his hands and he marveled that he had been able to survive a day without her.
“God’s blood,” roared a man outside the door. “I had no intention that he should take her before my very eyes!”
Jordan’s cry of indignation prompted Dagobert to break his kiss. The key turned in the lock and door opened once more. Alienor looked as if she would speak, but Dagobert silenced her with a shake of his head.
It would not be all bad to give Jordan one last message before he died.
“I will handle this myself,” that treacherous knight informed the jailer.
The door closed behind Jordan, that man holding up one hand before he spoke.
He had not the time to form his words before Dagobert landed a solid punch to his jaw. Jordan groaned as he fell back against the wall and panicked footsteps echoed in the hall.
“Sir? Is all well?”
Alienor muttered a curse under her breath and her irritation surprised Dagobert. Did she truly care for this man? He watched her hasty gestures and understood her intent, if not her reason. Unconvinced, he tugged Jordan’s fallen form out of view all the same.
The jailer tapped his keys against the door. “Is all well, sir?”
Before Dagobert could answer, Alienor had clapped one hand over his mouth, her gaze locked with his as she answered.
“Oh, Jordan!” she wailed, her conviction unswerving. “You should never have struck him, Jordan! I shall have to linger until Dagobert awakens. We had yet to say farewell and the priest will have harsh words for me. And I still must hem my kirtle this night to be ready for the morrow. How could you have done such a deed?”
Had she lost her wits? Dagobert frowned at her when she indicated that he should speak. “As Jordan,” she mouthed, and he could not understand her meaning. The hot look she granted him while she wailed anew finally persuaded him to do as she asked.
“I meant no harm, chérie,” he said, trying to mimic Jordan.
The jailer’s chuckle and retreating footsteps revealed that he had done well enough. Alienor, however, had no words of congratulations for him, or even of explanation, so intent was she on removing Jordan’s tunic.
“Your assistance would be appreciated,” she whispered.
“Why would you disrobe him, as if we are thieves on the road?”
Alienor looked to be exasperated. She seized Dagobert’s face in her hands, leaning so close to speak to him that he could feel her breath against his own lips.
He yearned.
“We have precious little time, but ’tis simple enough,” she informed him quietly. “You will dress in Jordan’s garments, and we shall walk out of here.”
“Did he know your scheme?” he asked, and watched his wife’s eyes go cold.
“If you had not struck him, you might have asked him yourself.” She bent to tug at one of Jordan’s boots, then spared him a glance. “’Twas his own idea and it will fail unless you make haste.”
Dagobert ran a hand over his head. What madness was this? Why would the man who had betrayed him make any effort to see him freed?
Alienor must have noted his expression for she spoke with quiet intensity. “’Twas after he saw your mark. He believes.”
Dagobert blinked, wonder dawning within him with each confession his wife made.
“’Tis true that he paid for my freedom and true that he meant to claim me as his wife. But he has not touched me. I swear it to you.” This was punctuated with a hot look. “I refused to do as much while you lived, though I would have found another reason afterward. And his scheme has its merits. You are much the same size, in breadth, at least. We can only hope that the guards have forgotten your height. He insisted upon bringing his helmet. ’Twas his own plan and not such a bad one that you should deliberately thwart it.”
This last Dagobert understood as a plea for assistance and he crouched to help Alienor in her task. He had naught to lose and much to gain judging by the way Alienor had kissed him only moments before. She shouted and cried out as they labored, as though she were trying to awaken Dagobert. In other circumstance, he might have laughed more than once at her cleverness. This jest was deadly serious, though.
“I cannot take his hauberk,” he argued under his breath at one point, unable to bring himself to steal the armor Jordan had earned along with his spurs. “’Twould be dishonorable and unthinkably base.”
Alienor shook her head. “Consider it a gift. ’Twas undoubtedly the argument used when your own mail was seized in Toulouse.” Still he hesitated, but Alienor whispered in his ear. “We have little time, my lord, and I would not have you go abroad without a hauberk.”
Dagobert saw the wisdom of her words. He might be hunted once the ruse was discovered. They had yet to get out of the palace, as well. He donned the garment, amazed that it fit as well as it did, hesitating for a minute before he added Jordan’s dagger to his belt. The jailer would merely take it for his own, should it be left behind. Though Dagobert knew as much, he could not shake the sense that he was doing the other knight a disservice.
Especially if he truly had contrived this scheme to see Dagobert saved.
When he stood dressed in the other knight’s clothing and Jordan was wrapped in his own torn garment, Alienor corrected his posture with a few pokes. He stood less straight than he did usually, in an effort to disguise the difference in their heights. He hoped he could remember all her directions and walk thus all the way out to the street.
’Twould save his life, he reminded himself, and he felt the urge to be free of the cell as soon as possible.
“Enough of your fuss, woman!” he roared in a mimic of Jordan that was improving. Dagobert donned Jordan’s helmet and rapped against the door, his heart leaping at Alienor’s approving smile. “You cannot expect me to sit aside while you coddle the man like a lover! ’Tis too late to be afoot and the man shows no signs of waking. Truly you test my patience this night, woman.”
“Aye, Jordan,” Alienor conceded with a sigh. “Indeed, you have already been too kind to me this night.”
“Wait for the morrow,” Dagobert muttered, hearing the jailer’s chuckle on the other side of the door. He closed his eyes, not daring to believe their trick might work. He strove to recall Jordan’s comments to Alienor so that he might better pretend to be the other man.
When the key turned in the lock, new hope fluttered in his chest.
With a gesture that ripped at Dagobert’s heart, Alienor bent and placed a kiss on Jordan’s cheek. The other knight’s eyes flew open at her touch. Jordan smiled at her, looking over her shoulder to Dagobert and giving a minute nod.
With that gesture, Dagobert knew. The plan
had been Jordan’s idea. And he was more a knight than Dagobert had believed, to take the place of a condemned man in a dungeon. Would Jordan declare his true identity on the morrow? What price would he pay for his aid?
Well aware that the guard watched him, Dagobert nodded curtly to Jordan. He could only hope the other knight understood the full weight of his gratitude. He hoped also that Jordan would not sacrifice his own life for his bravery.
Perhaps he would be released when they realized he was not Dagobert. He was no threat to the crown, so it was possible.
Alienor hastened ahead of Dagobert, as if she were relieved and pleased with him. He had only to stride onward, apparently in poor temper. She claimed the purse from his belt—Jordan’s purse—and counted out a quantity of coins for the jailer that shocked Dagobert to his marrow. He struggled to control his outrage that such a sum had been paid to the man for simply turning a key. The guard accompanied them back up to the passageway before the great hall.
’Twas a different path than he had taken before and for a heartbeat Dagobert feared a trick. His heart pounded in his ears even as he smelled the freshness of the air. He forced himself to march onward, frustrated by the limits the helmet put on his peripheral vision. He could be assaulted from behind and not know until it was too late. Alienor seemed untroubled by their path, however, and he put his trust in her, knowing he should have done as much long before.
“What is the wench’s name?” the guard asked as they reached the top of the stairs.
“Which wench?” Dagobert asked, hoping he was not condemning them with his ignorance. Alienor laughed when the guard might have been surprised, wagging her finger beneath Dagobert’s nose.
“He will always tease,” she confided in the guard, then turned to Dagobert. “He asks about my sister Ermengarde, of course, and you know it well.”
Unicorn Bride: A Medieval Romance Page 22