Caerden crouched down and grabbed hold of a fistful of Avva’s hair. Lifting her head, he forced her to look directly at him. ‘What does Sir William know?’
‘He knows everything,’ said Avva breathlessly. She wasn’t sure whether this was true or not, but she hoped it would disconcert Caerden. She was right.
‘Damn it, Barwen.’
‘The lad’s lying. Do not doubt that. The King is on his way to Chepstow—he wouldn’t do that if he knew of our plans.’
‘And you believe that?’ demanded Caerden, his fist still in Avva’s hair. ‘You are sure your spies are not double-crossing us?’
‘I am.’
So, spies were working against the King. William’s mission had been doomed to failure before it had even begun. Avva wished there was some way she could let him know, but she probably did not have long left on this earth.
‘Are you lying to me, Aven?’ Caerden had turned his attention back to her.
‘I...don’t know what you are talking about, my lord.’
Caerden tightened his fist in her hair and shook her head. She bit her lip to stop herself from crying out in pain.
‘Where is Sir William?’ Caerden asked again.
‘I...’ It was on the tip of her tongue to say that William was in the castle, but it turned out Avva couldn’t do that to him. In that moment she realised she would rather die a horrible, agonising death than betray any of her knowledge about William. ‘I don’t know,’ she said quietly.
Caerden stood. ‘I think you are right, Barwen. A little time with the dungeon master will help Aven remember.’
Avva whimpered as Caerden pulled her to her feet, his fingers biting into her flesh. He threw her towards Barwen, who took hold of her arm tightly.
‘Meet me by the horses as quickly as possible. We ride tonight.’ Caerden disappeared into the darkness, leaving her alone with Barwen. She tried to tug herself from his grip, but he held her with bands of steel.
She would not beg. She would not cry. She would meet her fate with dignity.
Barwen dragged her towards the courtyard, sparing no thought as to how her legs would keep up. She stumbled and he pulled her along on her knees until she found her footing again.
They crossed the courtyard. She caught sight of people she knew before they scurried back into their domain. She didn’t blame them for not coming to her rescue. She would not have done so in their position either. Barwen was too powerful.
She smelled the dungeons before she reached them. She gagged at the stench and she heard Barwen’s laughter. She swallowed, trying not to show weakness but it was getting harder now as they approached her fate.
Barwen threw her down the steps. Unprepared for the movement, she didn’t put her hands out to stop herself as she plummeted to the bottom. Her face landed on dirt, her mouth filling with it. She spat it out as footsteps made their way towards her.
‘This is Aven Carpenter. He has information regarding a knight called Sir William. Find out everything that you can.’
‘With pleasure,’ said the dungeon master, grasping the back of her hair and yanking her to her feet.
‘See that a messenger is sent with the information.’
‘In what direction?’
‘On the road to Chepstow.’
‘Very well. I don’t think this will take long.’
Barwen laughed. ‘I don’t think so either.’
Avva’s legs turned to water. She had never experienced much physical pain. She did not know how long she would be able to hold out. She only knew a little about William anyway and none of it, other than his whereabouts, would help Caerden. She knew that William was still in the castle. She knew that she loved him and that she would die for him. That was all.
‘I don’t know anything,’ she called out to Barwen’s retreating back.
‘They all say that,’ said the dungeon master as he dragged her further into the chamber. ‘But you’d be surprised by how much people reveal when they are put, say, on the rack. In fact, I think that’s where we’ll start with you. Now some people like to show their prisoners the rack first. It gives them the opportunity to spill their secrets without being tortured. I’m not going to do that with you. I’m going to start with the torture straight away.’
Avva inhaled a shuddery breath. She wanted so badly to be brave, but she feared she might start screaming before anything happened.
She tried to pull herself out of the dungeon master’s iron grip, but although she was strong, she was no match for this man. Silent tears began to course down her face as they reached the instrument of torture. She’d never seen anyone on it, but she knew what it would do to her. She wasn’t going to go on it without a fight.
Using all her weight, she pushed against the master. He grunted as he stumbled back.
‘The more you struggle, the worse this will be for you.’
‘No,’ she cried, pushing him harder.
He fell to the ground, but didn’t release his grip. She screamed as she fell on him. His knee connected with her stomach and she screamed again.
He grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her off him. ‘Enough.’
They continued to tussle, but Avva knew it was a losing battle. When a manacle closed over her wrist she began to still. She would need her energy to help her keep her wits once the pain set in.
As the second manacle snapped shut she began to think. The dungeon master would want something from her. She could tell him anything. It didn’t have to be the truth. She could tell him that William was really gravely injured after his fight with the five men. That there was no way he could travel after Caerden and Barwen. Caerden and Barwen would relax and then William could take them by surprise.
She closed her eyes as the dungeon master began to prepare the rack. She would have to withstand the pain for a while to make the information seem believable.
The dungeon master was speaking to her while making threats about what he was going to do to her, but she switched off. If she was going to die here, then she would be damned if her last moments were filled with his vitriol. Instead she would remember something good, a moment in her life when she was happiest.
She searched through her memories. She remembered laughing with her brothers, Aven alive and healthy, but even in that happy thought she could picture her stepfather in the background, disapproving of their merriment. She had not been fully happy and relaxed. The only time she had really felt that way was in William’s arms.
She pictured his deep brown eyes, laughing at her. She felt the weight of his body as he pressed down on her, his lips on hers and the way he had worshipped her body with his mouth.
A far-off bang sounded, bringing her back to the present. The dungeon master was gazing back towards the entrance where another bang sounded. He straightened, then moved towards the sound.
Alone in the dark, sweat began to bead across Avva’s brow. She wasn’t in any pain. The manacles were uncomfortable, but nothing worse. It was more the anticipation of what was to come that was causing chills to race down her spine.
Loud banging came from nearby, but she couldn’t distinguish the noises from her own pounding heartbeat.
There was a sharp crack and then silence.
Avva began to concentrate on her breathing, a steady in and out through her lips.
Footsteps sounded on the stone floor. And then...
‘Avva. Oh, my God, Avva.’ She knew that voice. Was it from her imagination?
Hands moved to her bindings and she whimpered, bracing herself for the oncoming pain. Instead the manacles were loosened and her arms were pulled free.
‘Avva, say something.’
‘William?’
‘Yes.’
‘Caerden and Barwen...they are...’
‘I know.’
‘Wait, the dungeo
n master. He could come back. You need to run. Get away from here.’ Her heart began to pound frantically. ‘He will kill you if he finds you in here.’
* * *
William’s heart contracted. How like Avva to think of his safety before her own. Even while chained to the rack she wanted him to look after himself. She was wonderful, his Avva. How he’d ever thought he could kiss her and then walk away, he would never know.
The blinding terror that had coursed through him when he’d heard her scream would never leave him.
William pulled her to her feet. He would love to have a moment to hold her, reassuring them both that she was still alive, but there was no time.
‘The dungeon master,’ she said again, clutching at his arm.
‘You don’t need to worry about him. He won’t be troubling anyone again.’
‘Did you kill him?’
‘I did.’ William grimaced—it hadn’t been much of a fight, not nearly enough to satisfy his rage. Next to him Avva staggered. ‘Can you walk?’
‘I think so. I was only in there briefly.’
‘A moment is too long.’ She staggered again and he curled his arms around her. She was so fragile against him, her slender body trembling.
‘I’m not hurt. I think it’s the shock.’
He didn’t respond. Instead he swept her up into his arms and lifted her off her feet—she weighed virtually nothing.
‘You don’t have to carry me. If you give me a moment I’m sure I’ll be able to walk.’ He didn’t respond to that. She might speak bravely, but she clung to him, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. ‘You can put me down.’
‘When we’re outside.’
She didn’t make any further protest and he allowed himself the pure joy of holding her in his arms.
‘Why did you come to the dungeons?’ she asked as they reached the base of the steps.
‘To rescue you.’
She frowned. ‘How did you know I was in there?’
‘I heard you scream.’ He shuddered. ‘The sound will haunt me until I die.’
‘I’m sorry.’
He snorted. ‘You have nothing to be sorry for. I got you into this nightmare. You didn’t want to help me from the beginning and you were right not to want that. I have led you and your family into danger.’ And he would bear the guilt for the rest of his life.
‘I could have walked away before now. I wanted to help.’
‘I thought the King was nothing to you.’
He realised he was desperate for Avva to tell him she was doing it for him. It was a foolish hope, especially when he’d given her no indication he felt anything more than desire for her.
They reached the outdoors and Avva took in huge gulps of fresh air. ‘Put me down now.’ She wriggled in his arms and he gently set her on the ground, missing the contact immediately.
‘You didn’t answer my question,’ he reminded her, more desperate for her to answer than he’d care to admit.
‘You didn’t ask one.’ Her tone was clipped, not inviting further discussion. He pressed on anyway.
‘Why are you helping when the King means nothing to you?’
Avva turned away from him, her shoulders rising and falling. ‘I don’t want the town to be tainted by a treasonous act. The repercussions could be awful. Besides, now that they know I am involved, I need to see this to the end.’
Pain bloomed around his heart. A pain he couldn’t really explain to himself. Why did it matter why she wanted to help him? Why was the answer so important? Especially now when he should be riding to the King’s aid.
‘I see.’ He pressed a hand to his chest, trying to ease the ache.
She turned back and gazed up at him. How he wished he could read her mind. He wanted to know what was going on behind those blue eyes. She licked her lips and he held his breath. ‘Caerden and Barwen, before they left, they wanted to know if you’d sent for help.’
He let out a long sigh—so she was not about to confess to feelings she obviously didn’t have. It was time to get back to the mission.
‘I sent my squire, James,...’
‘They know about him, but they said they’d managed to stop him meddling.’
William frowned. ‘In that case, the worst has happened. I must assume that the King’s life is in grave danger.’
‘Caerden and Barwen are on their way to Chepstow. They believe the King is heading there, too.’
‘I can’t allow them to get there.’ William turned and headed for the stables. Avva hurried after him.
‘What do you suggest we do?’
‘You stay here. I’ll go after them. You and your brothers should be safe for now.’ William strode down the centre of the stable until he reached Eirwen’s stall. The horse nickered in greeting, stretching his head over the door to reach William’s hand. ‘Please could you get me his saddle?’
‘Of course.’ Avva went to the spot where she’d stored Eirwen’s saddles and side-bags. William watched her go. He didn’t want this to be it, to be the last time he saw her. He knew it was foolish to want to prolong the half-agony, half-hope of their encounter. He wasn’t even sure what he was hoping for exactly. Perhaps some sort of sign that it would hurt her as much as him to be parted.
‘Do you know the way to Chepstow?’ she asked as she helped him strap the saddle to Eirwen.
‘You’re not coming with me, Avva.’ As much as he wanted her company, he would not risk her life again.
‘There’s nothing you can do to stop me riding alongside you. I’d probably outstrip you given your current condition.’
He laughed despite himself.
‘If you take me with you, it will be quicker and easier.’
‘I can possibly see how it might be quicker with you showing me the route, but how exactly will it be easier?’ William strapped the last of his saddlebags to Eirwen’s flank.
‘Your ribs are still damaged. If I guide Eirwen along the fastest route possible, you can conserve your energy for the fight ahead.’
He could see the sense in what she was saying, but he couldn’t work out whether that was because he wanted her with him.
He exhaled slowly. ‘Avva, when I heard you scream, it was worse than any physical pain I have ever received. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have been in that dungeon. I’ll have to live with the knowledge that I put you in danger for the rest of my life. You could have been tortured for days.’ William leaned his head against Eirwen’s neck. ‘You can have no idea...’
‘William.’ Avva gently placed her fingers against his cheek. He turned into the touch, resting against her palm. She ran a thumb along his cheekbone, his eyelids flickering shut. They stood like that for a long moment. ‘I’m going to come with you.’
He smiled. ‘You are very stubborn.’
‘I know. It’s endearing.’
He laughed softly. ‘I wouldn’t call it that.’ His smile dropped and he fixed her with his powerful gaze. ‘I would appreciate your help in getting to Chepstow, but I want you to take Eirwen and leave as soon as we arrive.’
This was important. He wouldn’t take her if she didn’t agree. He knew he couldn’t live in a world where she didn’t exist.
She nodded. ‘I promise.’
Chapter Fifteen
Avva didn’t wait for William to change his mind. Vaulting up on to Eirwen’s saddle, she waited for him to leap up behind her. His approach was slower, his movements stiff, reminding her that despite the way he had rescued her, he was still in a lot of pain.
When he was seated, she kicked Eirwen into motion. The powerful horse broke into a gallop before they hit the courtyard.
She thundered past the guards stationed at the gate, not stopping even when they called out to her. Then they were flying. She laughed as the wind rushed through her hair. Every day she’d lon
ged to ride like this, to experience the power of some great animal moving beneath her. It was as amazing as she’d imagined.
William’s answering laugh sounded in her ear. His large hands slid around her hips, holding on to her loosely.
They cleared the bridge quickly and were out of Caerden before they spoke again.
‘Eirwen is magnificent,’ she called back to him.
‘You are.’
She twisted in the saddle to look at him. His gaze was intense. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Look at what life has thrown at you and yet here you are, racing towards danger with a smile on your face.’
‘The smile is because of Eirwen.’ And you, she didn’t add. She knew her feelings were foolish, but she would enjoy this last bit of time together for the gift that it was.
His large hand reached up and traced the length of her jaw. ‘I’m sorry for what happened earlier. I should not have...’
Her heart dropped. He was not talking about the dungeon, but about what had transpired between them in Caerden’s private room.
‘Don’t.’ She covered his hand with hers. ‘Please don’t be sorry. We both have different lives. I don’t belong in yours and neither do you fit into mine. We both know this. Don’t apologise for what happened between us. I don’t regret it—in fact, I rejoice that I got to experience such pleasure. Nothing has ever given me such enjoyment. I would never have believed a nobleman would be thoughtful and generous. Until now I thought you were all bad. Our time together has shown me there is the possibility of a brighter future.’
‘Avva...’ His fingers moved over her cheek and across her forehead. As if he, too, were mapping her in the way she had done to him. ‘You are killing me with your generosity. I do not know what I have done to deserve this time with you.’
She only smiled at his words, unable to express how much they meant to her. Before long, he dropped his hand and they both turned to look at the road. They didn’t speak, but William laced his fingers with hers on the reins and that was enough.
* * *
The Knight's Maiden in Disguise Page 18
