by Wend Petzler
Well, he thought with a malicious grin, the Prince of England and Lord Robert were about to find out how he, the Butcher, had earned his name—the hard way!
Three miles down the road Robin slowed his horse to a trot, searching the murky depths of the Peake off to their left. He drew his horse to a halt and grinned, pointing toward a break in the trees. In single file, they rode into the dense forest for what seemed an eternity until the brush grew so thick and wild the horses could no longer walk without difficulty. Robin signaled a halt.
"We walk from here. Lars, Ian, take our horses and Martine's men to the western cave.” He faced Lucian. “It is a shortcut, just above Metcalf where your ships await you.” Robin stopped and appeared puzzled. He asked, “Do you feel it?"
Lucian gave a curt nod, the cold chill of something wrong curled in his belly, nearly undoing his calm. “Yea, I feel it, too. Something is amiss.” Sparing a look up at the sky, he saw what bothered him. Inhaling the cold air, he at last smelt it—the coming of snow. “We must hurry! I feel a blizzard coming.” Lucian doffed his helm and tunic, tossing the items to one of his knights. He signaled his men to follow after the two outlaws. Loping after the Foresters, he had a rough time keeping up with the large group of agile woodsmen as they skimmed along the forest floor without making a sound. Not long passed when a waterfall rose before them. It was at this point where Robin signaled a breather.
"The passage we seek will lead us to the old, closed shafts of the Odin Mine. With a bit of luck, we can slip in and get our friends out before anyone knows what is happening. Ready?” he asked the menacing knight whose eyes appeared to be fathomless pits in the dark, moonless night. The storm above gathered, the stillness of its coming wrath unnerving as the forest animals hid from what was about to hit.
Casting a disparaging eye at the rushing water, Lucian took a deep breath and stepped into the icy cold water, trudging deeper until the rushing water reached his chest. Gritting his teeth, he concentrated on his footing, fighting the steady current and the awful, brutal cold. He gradually made his way after Robin, stumbling here and there when his footing gave way to unseen rocks. On the other side of the river, Robin jumped through the waterfall, disappearing from view. Taking a deep breath, Lucian followed. Once on the other side, Lucian rubbed water from his eyes, trying to see when he stumbled when he encountered dry land on the other side. Several feet inside, he walked blindly, stretching his hands out in front of him to keep from falling. A spark of flint halted him in his tracks. A flame grew, engulfing a tar soaked torch. Robin handed it out to him, lighting another with the one Lucian held. A cave rose before him, narrowing into a tunnel.
The tall outlaw took a deep breath, his eyes, usually bright with humor, was shadowed with worry. “Little John, has everyone crossed over?” At the big man's nod, Robin motioned for John to lead. “Take us in, my friend."
"Mind your steps,” Little John warned. “This here tunnel was shut down years ago cause of the unstable ceiling.” At Lucian's skeptic frown, he reassured him, “Do not worry, my lord, it will hold for our purpose tonight."
The well worn tunnel gradually descended deeper and deeper, leading straight down to the very bowels of the earth. Just when Lucian was convinced they were lost, the tunnel widened into a humongous cavern. Their torches reflected upon dark water, still in the quietness. Awed by the unusual sight of an underground lake, Lucian stared, unable to judge the distance across, the darkness deceiving. He looked to his right and saw another passageway.
"What are your men searching for?” Lucian asked, frowning at the delay.
Little John answered, “We have ter hide the boats in case someone gets curious about the deeper parts of the tunnel. There they are. Come on, we have to move faster. We're running out of time."
"What's down in the other mine?"
Shifting his gaze around, making sure none were listening, he whispered, “It's where we hide the gold and jewels for safekeeping."
Robin urged Lucian into a boat. Noticing his scowl, he grinned, explaining, “Don't worry, it's not for personal use. We hide it just in case one of our men gets the urge to become greedy."
Nodding, Lucian took up an oar and sat near the front of the long, flat-bottomed boat. Dipping the oar into the water, he and the others put their backs into it and made it across the wide lake in good time but at a cost. Muscles aching, backs sore, they reached the beach and leapt out to drag the boats ashore. Taking a break, a water flask was passed around.
Drinking eagerly of fresh water, Lucian instantly felt the dramatic change in the air, cooling his sweat-dampened skin. The smell inside the cave was oddly musty and gritty. Robin explained the oddity.
"We are in the deepest part of the extensive network of caves in our district. We will head down that passageway toward the Devil's Arse and take the one Eiry and her men used to steal the sheriff's food supply. Robert's going to have guards posted. They will need to be silenced. With any luck, we will get our friends and be back on the lake before anyone knows we were there."
"We're wasting time.” Lucian stood up, wanting to get going.
Robin led them down a worn pathway into another cave, the rocky ceiling rising high above them. Lucian frowned, noticing remnants of fire pits. “Was this their lair?"
"Yes, until Louie betrayed them."
"What does the boy have to gain?"
Watching his men open the false wall, exposing the tunnel on the other side, Robin replied, “Louie wants Eiry, not caring anymore how he gains her."
"Why was Sir Thomas murdered?"
"You see, the mines are a major source of income for our dear Prince John and Robert De Ferrers. They have become rich men with the demand for iron ore crushed from the lead, what with the wars Richard fights.” Robin's voice dropped to an angry growl, having seen firsthand the ravages of what working underground did to man and beast.
"Savoy threatened to go to King Richard and inform him of the peasants used as slave labor, didn't he?"
"Yea. Sir Savoy and his sweet wife were murdered to remove them as a threat to the mining, but another goal was in mind, one which fortunately did not go as predicted."
"What was that?” Lucian frowned, trying to make sense of what more could be gained from Eiry's parents being murdered.
"Robert wanted to start a war with the Welsh, hoping Lady Rowena's murder would send her father across the border, seeking revenge and begin harassing the border barons again. It would give Prince John the opportunity to take control of what remained of the army, hence having real power in ruling England.” Robin glanced over his shoulder to gauge Lucian's reaction. He wasn't disappointed.
Cursing at the black, greedy heart of Prince John, Lucian fell silent, far too angry to speak. They walked a mile down the tunnel until it ended in a solid wall of stone. Glowering at the delay of going down the wrong passageway, he paused when one of Robin's men slid back a small rock in the wall, peering through what appeared to be nothing more than a crack. The man frantically waved at Robin to hurry over, moving out of the way so he could have a look. Robin's head reared back. Silently snarling, he fastened an arrow to his bow and signaled for more men to help with the rock wall. Lucian barely had time to draw his sword when the outlaws opened the false door and rushed in, shooting the burly guards. None were given the chance to make a sound.
What Lucian saw made him physically sick.
* * * *
Eiry bit her lip from crying out. Two guards dragged her by her arms, her fine dress torn on the jagged rock wall as they managed the rough steps leading down to the supply chamber under the castle. Her friends were bound, struggling against their bonds, fighting to come to her rescue.
There'd be no getting out of this one, Eiry thought dejectedly.
The guards dropped her to the ground, but she wasn't given time to sigh in relief when another roughly wrenched her hands above her head, wrapping rope around her wrists. The ugly brute grabbed the other end of the rope and threw it over
a wooden beam and pulled, stringing her upward to hang by her arms. She tried not to scream at the agony as her weight yanked down, her shoulders burning from the strain. The rough, twined rope tore into her skin, blood dripped down her exposed arms. She bit her lower lip from crying, desperate to be brave for her men.
A familiar voice spoke from the murky darkness, making her skin crawl with revulsion, a voice that had once belonged to a brother so dear until he had become the ultimate traitor. “So, dear Eiry, how do you like your new accommodations? I assume it is not as comfortable as sharing Martine's bed, although it is one best suited for a traitor,” he sneered, cutting the scarf around her mouth.
Wiggling her aching jaw, she glared at his ironic words. Eiry spat, “Me, the traitor? I believe you are grossly mistaken. I see only one traitor, and he stands before us a coward!"
Many added their voices in agreement. The two guards who brought her below tried to silence the prisoners by kicking those closest, winning glares from the defiant men and women who knew what real freedom was and would have nothing less.
Allen shouted at Louie, “You bastard, why don't you fight us like a real man? Come on, I'll take ye on, coward."
Amused, Louie motioned for the guards to bring Allen over. Casually picking up another length of rope, Louie idly played with the end as the men roughly dragged Allen to stand before him. “You know, Allen, since I was employed in the Sheriff's service, I have learned a great many interesting things. Did you know there are so many ways to make a man suffer for a long time before he eventually dies? I do believe this one is my favorite.” Quick as a snake, Louie wrapped the rope around Allen's throat, and then tossed the other end over the beam from which Eiry hung. He pulled the slack up tight, bringing Allen up on his toes, unable to claw at his throat with his hands bound behind his back.
"NO,” Eiry screamed fighting her ropes, trying to get to Allen and help him before he slowly choked to death from the tightening noose, his own weight pulling him down.
Chuckling at her desperate struggle to free her hands, Louie strode over to her and reached out a hand to caress a straining breast. She spit in his face for his trespass. Wiping the spittle from his face, Louie spoke to her as if instructing a child, “You really shouldn't have done that. There is so much of your father in you. I wonder, were you able to find out who killed your father? Perhaps I should tell you of the night your parents left to attend Robert's feast and never came home. Can you imagine their surprise when we attacked them after they left Peveril Castle? Of course my father recognized me and had to die. But you should have seen the look on Savoy's face when he saw me standing over him after I shot him the first time. I believe it really was the defining moment in my new career as Robert's spy. Of course, the real feat was returning to Sanctuary before Lilia even knew I had left her. I should have killed her, too, but for some odd reason, I could not. Now though, she will be subject to a tragic accident since the Great Judge has designs for Sanctuary."
Eiry stared, horrified by Louie's words. How could she not know such a monster hid behind his freckled features? “Why?” she demanded brokenly, refusing to give the bastard the satisfaction of seeing he'd hurt her by crying at his casual words of murdering her parents. Or plan the imminent death of sweet Lilia?
"Why does Lilia have to die or why did I kill our parents?"
"You son of a bitch, I want to know why my parents had to die,” she screamed at him.
"Oh that. What Robert really wanted was your mother. The rest were expendable. You see, the real tragedy was Lady Rowena's death. We planned on extracting a large amount of gold from your grandfather with her ransom. When in our overzealousness, she was killed, we decided to go with Prince John's plan and incite a war with the Welsh to get the Border Barons to demand he control the army to squash the rebels. We expected when your grandfather received word of Rowena's murder he would send his men raiding. Imagine my surprise when you arrived a week later, instead of your grandfather's troops."
"Why didn't you just kill me then?"
Louie replied as if he were talking to a child, “I don't want you dead. Never have I wanted you killed. To be fairly honest, I want you to be my wife."
"Over my dead body! I will never be your wife, you murdering bastard! The first chance I get I will cut you to pieces and feed you to the wolves,” Eiry screamed, her bosom heaving with each labored breath, fighting the awful ache of grief. “I swear it!” Arms hurting, she snarled at him, wishing to get the dagger strapped to her thigh, unable with her hands bound.
"Oh really? I have something which I believe will encourage you to rather quickly change your mind. Besides, I owe you for kicking me in the jewels. Very naughty of you by the way.” Louie jerked his chin at the men to cut her down, ignoring her helpless cry when she dropped in a crumbled heap, unable to stop her fall.
They carelessly dragged by her sore arms, following Louie to an antechamber. Wondering what torment Louie had concocted for her next, she got her answer when the torch he held cast on a black hole in the bedrock floor. The guards effortlessly lifted her to her feet before lowering her into the darkness and let go of her. Screaming, she fell, her legs buckling under her when she hit the rocky bottom. Scrambling to her feet, the rim was well over her head by a good seven feet. She shuddered from the cold, clamminess of the damp stones around her. Eiry stared up at him, frowning when he turned a rusty, iron wheel. Freezing cold water started spewing by her ankle, making her jump. The cold, wetness soaked her thin slippers. Terror filled her when she realized the hole she was in was quickly filling with the icy water from the cave lake. Whipping her head up, her eyes wide with fear, she saw Louie staring down at her with a caricature of a smile she once thought was from a man with good heart, not evil. A man she considered family.
"We will chat later, if you're of mind to. Until then, adieu."
"Why, Louie? I thought you were my friend?” Eiry cried out, stricken by the grievances Louie heaped upon her and her family.
"For gold of course."
Louie's footsteps faded away. The guards took the torches with them, leaving Eiry alone in the inky black. The water had risen past her calves.
Teeth chattering from the stinging chill and the choking fear of drowning, Eiry's frantic mind calmed. The sudden, sure knowledge Lucian would never abandon her banished the terror. He was coming to rescue her. Grabbing up her skirts, she retrieved her dagger and after several tries with numb fingers, she cut the rope binding her wrists. Feeling the cold stones around her, she tried to climb out, unable to get a good hold to pull herself upward. Tears blurred her vision. Desperate, she clung to the sure knowledge Lucian was coming, ‘willing’ him to find her.
Trembling, she wrapped her arms around her, the muscles in her legs cramped, making it difficult to stand. The water passed her waist. When the freezing water was to her chin, she tilted her head back, trying not to choke. Struggling to keep her eyes open, the cold water sapped her waning strength. Water slowly covered her face. She slipped under, spiraling downward in the void of emptiness by the weight of her skirts. In the darkness a face formed in her mind. Lucian. His beautiful face, his heart-stopping smile. He beckoned her to him, urging her to come to him. With one final act of sheer determination, she kicked from the bottom of the hole, reaching her hand out above her. Forcing her eyes open, a hallo of red flames entered in her vision as she strove for the surface.
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Chapter Eighteen
Men moaned, broken and bleeding, having suffered through excruciating torture inflicted in wringing out information from their broken bodies. The women sobbed in relief when their rescuers shed their cloaks, covering their beaten, half-naked bodies. Lucian rushed over to where Allen hung, his toes barely brushing the ground. The unforgiving noose stretched his neck and his eyes bulged from being slowly strangled to death by his own weight. Swinging the bright blade held in his hand, Lucian cut the dying man down, barely catching Allen in time as the man crumpl
ed to the ground.
Robin withdrew a wicked dagger and cut his bonds, sickened, too, by what they witnessed. Lucian took the water skin Robin offered, holding Allen's head steady in the crook of his arm as the weak man drank greedily. He urged Allen to sit up when he started choking on the water. “Easy, man, easy,” he tried to calm the agitated man.
Choking, Allen waved weakly in the direction of an antechamber. “Must go to her. Eiry ... in danger,” he croaked out the words through his bruised vocal cords, trying to get them to understand him. “Louie."
The door above the stairs scraped open admitting a dark cloaked man who practically flew down the stairs. Lucian glanced at Robin who frantically motioned his men not to shoot. Looking back at the man again, he recognized him as the one who saved Eiry earlier from Brasco's fist.
"Robin, you don't have much time. Louie ordered her in the hole,” the grizzled-looking man said, nervously looking over his shoulder.
Lucian gently laid the exhausted Allen down when Robin's face paled considerably. “What's down there?"
"Death.” Robin ran after Lucian who charged down the tunnel.
Looking around the small chamber, Lucian wildly searched about for Eiry. Choking back the terror, his eyes fixed on the water-filled hole. Grief assaulted him. Eiry could not be dead? Turning to look at Robin when he heard thief shout, his gaze dropped to where he was wildly pointing at. Astonished when a slender hand rose from the dark waters, reaching upward as if coming from the pits of Hell, Lucian dove, grabbing on, swearing to never let her go.
* * * *
A warm hand of pure strength grabbed hold of her. In a dreamlike state, Eiry felt her frozen body being pulled from her watery grave. She could not move, except cling to whoever saved her. Blinking back several times from the harsh glare of the bright flames, she recognized it as a torches. She felt weight pressing on her chilled body, realizing it was a wool cloak pressed about her.
