“My lips are sealed.”
“Even if they torture you and throw you in a fiery pit.”
Wynter laughed. “I will let them roast me before I tell.”
Christin blew her a kiss as she headed out the door, out into the bright day beyond.
It was after the nooning meal and the sky was the most brilliant shade of blue. At least, Christin thought so. She stood there a moment, looking at the sky, wondering if it had always been that color. Somehow, everything looked brighter to her, lovelier than she’d ever seen it. That’s what Alexander had done for her – he made her see things through different eyes.
Life was beautiful.
She didn’t even realize she had a smile on her face as she stood there, looking at the sky. Then, her gaze moved towards the gatehouse with the bridge that led down into the lower baileys. There were guards there, men wearing the crimson and gold tunic of the king, but there were also guards with the de Winter standard. She was confident that she could walk past them all. Summoning her courage, she headed towards the gatehouse.
But the king’s soldiers, who were lingering by the stairs that led into the keep more than they were actually by the gatehouse, suddenly turned in her direction. When she saw that they were walking towards her, and looking at her, she got panicky and she turned around, heading back to the apartment block.
Unfortunately, there were royal soldiers there that she hadn’t seen before. She knew for a fact there was no one there as she’d just left the building because she’d looked around. She’d been aware of her surroundings.
… hadn’t she?
Or was she looking up at the sky, thinking of its beauty?
Her heart began to race and her breathing quickened. Where were all of these royal guards coming from? They were roaming around Norwich as if they belonged here, but then she was sadly reminded that Norwich Castle was, indeed, a royal holding. The de Winters were the stewards. With the king here, the royal guards had every right to be about the property.
She was beginning to sorely regret leaving the apartment.
She wanted to go back inside, but the royal guards were near the entry now and she was afraid to move past them. When she turned around to try and go back towards the gatehouse, to the stables where Alexander was, the guards that had been near the keep entry were much closer now, heading right for her.
She bolted.
Racing towards the garden, she ran between buildings, trying to lose the guards who were following her. She thought that running off might pull them away from the entry to her apartment, so she dashed around the side of the building, running in a circle. But the moment she turned the corner that would give her a clear shot to the building entry, she ran straight into a big, warm body.
He grabbed her and the fight was on.
Christin may not have been a trained warrior, but she knew how to fight. She immediately lifted her knee, ramming it as hard as she could into the groin area but coming into contact with mail and other protection that prevented her from hitting her mark. The big man tightened his grip as she fought.
“Easy, lady, easy,” he said. “No need to fight. It will not do any good.”
Christin dropped her satchel so she could get to the dagger she always had tucked into a sheath on her leg. She was fearless as she grabbed for it, bringing it up into the man’s gut. It made contact because she heard him grunt, but as he loosened his grip, more hands grabbed her.
Unable to escape, she started screaming at the top of her lungs.
A hand slapped over her mouth and someone yanked the dagger from her grip. Kicking and twisting, she was fighting for her very life as a group of royal soldiers ganged up on her, surrounding her, but they weren’t stealing her away. They were mostly standing there, holding her as they looked at the man she’d stabbed.
The man was down on one knee, his hand to his lower gut as bright red blood poured. The guards, holding on to a wildcat, were confused as to what to do.
“Where do we take her, d’Athee?” one of them demanded.
Gerard was crippled with a fairly serious stab to the lower abdomen. He grunted in pain. “Find de Lara,” he rasped. “Find the man and…”
“Get your hands off of her.”
Sean was suddenly in their midst, grabbing Christin away from the soldiers who were smothering her. He pulled her into his grasp, slapping a trencher-sized hand over her mouth so she couldn’t make any noise.
“What in the hell happened to you?” he asked Gerard.
But Gerard was in too much pain to respond civilly. “That bitch stabbed me,” he said, groaning as he stood up. Suddenly, a big hand lashed out and caught Christin on the side of the head, hard enough to knock her cold. “That’s for goring me!”
As Christin went limp, Sean picked her up. “Touch her again and you will answer to me,” he growled. “The king wants her to reach Robert in one piece, not damaged goods. Where are the horses you intended to take?”
Gerard was nearly doubled over, trying to stanch the flow of blood in his side. “Down below,” he said. “At the farm gate. Get out from the postern gate and the path will take you right to them. I cannot ride like this, Sean. You must take her to Bishop’s Lynn.”
Sean didn’t even question him. He was on the move with the soldiers in tow, all of them heading quickly to the postern gate. One of the soldiers opened the gate for Sean and he ducked through it, taking the slippery footpath down to the fields below where an abundance of neat rows of cultivated crops were being harvested in sections.
The area was surrounded by a big wall, like the one that surrounded the castle, and the farmers paused to watch as an enormous knight and about ten soldiers escorted an unconscious lady down to a larger group of royal soldiers waiting at the gatehouse that protected the farming fields.
Sean handed Christin over to another soldier as he mounted a horse meant for Gerard. The soldier returned Christin to him and Sean took a moment cover her face up with the cloak she was wearing, at least as much as he could. He didn’t want it announced that Christin de Lohr was being whisked out of Norwich because he didn’t want a battle on his hands from anyone who recognized her. Battles resulted in injuries and he didn’t want to see her inadvertently hurt.
But the responsibility of her was something of a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. Unlike Gerard and the king, he didn’t think in a two-dimensional fashion. Sean thought beyond the obvious to the improbable, to the obscure, and to the logical. He wasn’t thinking a day ahead or even a week ahead; he was thinking far ahead of that. It meant he wasn’t going to return Christin to her father because he had a plan, but he needed her cooperation to accomplish it.
He had an idea on how to end this once and for all.
Making sure Christin was covered up, Sean spurred the horse onward, followed by about a hundred royal troops, all of them thundering their way out of Norwich and heading for Bishop’s Lynn.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Caius could hardly believe what he’d just seen.
He’d been out of sight when Sean had approached a group of royal soldiers holding Christin hostage and he’d seen, clearly, when one burly bastard had hit Christin on the side of the head, rendering her unconscious. Greatly concerned, he continued to watch while Sean carried Christin out through the postern gate, followed by a collection of soldiers.
All of it had happened so quickly.
Now, they were gone.
The man who had struck Christin was still standing there, holding his bloodied gut, and when he turned around, Caius recognized him. Gerard d’Athee. The king’s bodyguard, a man that didn’t have Sean’s intelligence, but he had his strength. He was purely an animal.
Caius sank back against the wall of the chapel, watching as Gerard headed back to the keep, holding his bloodied wound. When the man disappeared into the keep, Caius came out of hiding, coming to realize what had just happened – the king and Gerard d’Athee have concocted a scheme to abduct Christin from Norwich
and take her north to FitzRoy to be married.
That’s what Sean had told him.
Apparently, in the wake of the wounded Gerard, Sean had been tasked with carrying out the man’s duties.
But Caius knew he couldn’t let him get far, even if it was Sean. Turning for the gatehouse, he began to run. He was a very tall man, taller than everyone around him, and he was also big and strong, which meant men naturally moved out of his way. Those who didn’t were shoved aside as he raced towards The Marshal’s encampment.
“Cai!”
The shout came from behind him and he slowed to see Kevin running up behind him.
“Cai, what’s wrong?” Kevin demanded. “Why are you running.”
Caius stopped long enough to grab Kevin by the shoulder. “Christin has been abducted,” he said. “The king’s men, including your brother, have taken her out of the castle through the postern gate.”
“What?” Kevin hissed. “How do you know this?”
“Because I saw it,” Caius snapped. “I want you to go to the stables and find Sherry. He should be there. Tell him to get to The Marshal’s tent immediately because, clearly, something must be done to help her. And if you see Maxton or Kress or anyone else, tell them to get over to The Marshal’s tent as well.”
Kevin appeared a bit shocked, but he didn’t ask any further questions. He did as he was told, dashing off towards the stables as Caius picked up speed again and charged into The Marshal’s tent.
William wasn’t there.
Frustrated and apprehensive, he rushed over to the de Lohr tent only to find Christopher and David sitting, quite calmly, over some cold beef and wine. They both looked at Caius in surprise but before they could speak, Caius stated his business.
“My lord, we have a problem,” Caius said to Christopher. “The king has abducted your daughter. Even now, she is being taken out of Norwich.”
Christopher was on his feet, an expression of disbelief on his face. “What’s this?” he demanded. “How do you know?”
“I saw it happen,” Caius said. “I’m not sure how the situation evolved, but Gerard d’Athee and about a dozen royal soldiers had your daughter captured by the keep. I was speaking to Sean at the time and we heard screaming. Sean approached Gerard while I stayed to the shadows and it was clear that Gerard was wounded. As I watched, Sean took your daughter and spirited her out of the castle through the postern gate.”
That didn’t clear up the situation much for Christopher. “Sean?” he repeated. “And royal troops?”
Caius nodded, frustrated because it was clear that Christopher had no idea what he was talking about. “My lord, listen to me,” Caius said. “Clearly, you have not been told that John has set his sights on your daughter. He wants her for his bastard son, Robert Fitzroy.”
Christopher’s eyes widened. “I know that,” he snapped. “Christ, are you telling me… oh, my God… then she didn’t discourage him last night, after all.”
“My lord?”
Christopher waved him off. “No time to explain,” he said. “I must go after her immediately.”
He and David were already running for the tent flap, bursting through only to see William, Maxton, Kress, and Peter heading in his direction. William saw them, and the panic on their faces, and he pointed to their tent.
“Inside,” he commanded. “Now.”
“Like hell,” Christopher growled. “I must go and…”
William cut him off, physically putting his hands on the man and shoving him back into the tent. “Chris, inside,” he said again. “Go.”
With little choice, Christopher and David fell back into the tent, with William following. Caius, Peter, Maxton, and Kress were behind them, all of them crowding in.
“William, he has my daughter,” Christopher raged. “I must go after her.”
William shook his head. “Nay,” he said evenly. “You will remain here, with me, and we shall confront John about this immediately. I will send Caius and Maxton after her along with fifty of my men, but you… you stay with me, Chris. We must deal with John on his level.”
“I do not want to deal with John!” Christopher boomed. “Sean took her, for Christ’s sake. Why doesn’t he just bring her back?”
William gazed at him steadily. “You know why.”
Christopher’s jaw began to work but he didn’t explode, saying things that others should not hear. He knew Sean was an agent for The Marshal and he knew how hard the man had worked to gain the monarch’s trust, meaning he had to carry out the king’s wishes no matter what the cost to his friends or comrades. Christin would be considered collateral damage to the greater scheme of things.
But Christopher wasn’t going to let that happen.
“I want my daughter back,” he growled. “I’ll kill Sean if he gets in my way.”
William sighed heavily. “Chris…”
But Christopher waved him off sharply. “I have every right to regain her,” he said. “If Sean wants to fight me, that is his choice, but I will show no mercy. We are talking about my daughter, William. My child, my blood.”
“I know.”
“I am going to get her back and then I shall make John sorry he ever considered her for this outrageous scheme. I am going to make him pay.”
William knew he had a wildfire on his hands. An angry Christopher, with thousands of men at his disposal, was never a good thing. He looked over his shoulder to Caius. “You and Maxton get mounted,” he said quickly. “Kress, you go with them. You will get the soldiers mounted while Caius and Maxton prepare their mounts. Hurry, now; there is no time to waste. And for pity’s sake, find Sherry and Peter and Kevin. I have need of them.”
As Caius, Maxton, and Kress headed for the tent flap, Kevin burst in.
“Sherry has gone after Christin,” he said. “I tried to stop him, but he would not listen.”
Everybody was scattering. William was trying to keep Christopher and David calm while the tent cleared out of everyone else, all of them racing to their mounts to follow Alexander. Not one man was going to let him face this alone, for the brotherhood of William Marshal’s agents was strong.
The Executioner Knights’ brotherhood was even stronger.
Especially since they were dealing with the Lord of the Shadows, who would not give up his prize easily.
God, William prayed silently as he realized how badly the situation was veering out of control, Sean, please keep that woman safe!
Anything else guaranteed that half of England would go to war against the king.
Ashdown.
It had been a long time since Alexander had thought of his home, the place where he’d been born. As he prepared his horse for the ride into the village, he found himself thinking of Ashdown and of his father, Phillip. Truth be told, he hadn’t thought of either in years, but that had mostly been because he’d spent the first several years after his brothers’ deaths torturing himself over what happened, what could have been, and what he should have done differently.
As he’d told Christin, his younger brothers had been his responsibility.
Andrew and Adam had been so full of life. That’s what they called it, anyway, but the reality was that they were full of arrogance, bravery, and recklessness. Alexander couldn’t even count the times he’d had to rein that pair in, like a pair of wild horses. Usually, it was Adam who would lead and Andrew who would follow, and they had been so very excited to go on the great quest with Richard. They had only been two years younger than Alexander, but their maturity had been far more lacking than his.
But it was a maturity that quickly developed once the hardships of the journey to The Levant began to take their toll. The travel, the lack of food, of water, and the harsh elements had forced the twins to quickly grow up. It had been a rude awakening for all of them, and once they’d actually reached The Levant, they might as well have traveled to the moon. Nothing was as they had expected and the pair had difficulty adjusting. Alexander had helped them as best he co
uld, but he was having his own difficulties.
He blamed himself for not paying more attention to them.
Odd how his feelings towards Christin had brought back so many memories of his brothers and his father, or perhaps not so odd considering that’s the last time he really allowed himself to feel love. He loved his friends, of course, but love for family was something different.
Or love for a woman.
Alexander never thought he would ever return to Ashdown, but now that he was planning on taking a wife, he would have to reconsider. He was his father’s heir, after all, and Christin deserved a home of her own. She was a great lady who deserved everything he could provide for her. It seemed strange to him to even think that considering he was the one who always wandered, the one who was the loner. He worked alone, he traveled alone, because he liked it.
But he was alone no more, soon to be domesticated.
And it didn’t bother him one bit.
But first, he had some obstacles to overcome, not the least of which was a very powerful warlord by the name of Christopher de Lohr. After he took Christin to the inn by the cathedral, his next move would be to tell Christopher what had happened, and why. He snorted softly, leaning on the horse as he realized he felt like a giddy young squire with his first love, terrified of the girl’s father.
He didn’t think he had it in him.
“Sherry?”
Alexander was tucked back in a stall, but his head came up when he heard his name. “I am here.”
Kevin appeared. Alexander was about to turn back to the horse when he caught a glimpse of the expression on the man’s face. He took a second look at the strained countenance.
“What’s the matter with you?” he asked.
“You must come,” Kevin said. “Caius said that the king has abducted Lady Christin and you must come to The Marshal’s encampment immediately.”
Alexander blinked as if he didn’t understand the statement. “Abducted her?” he repeated. “But I was just with her. Not fifteen minutes ago.”
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