Darkest Knight

by Cynthia Luhrs

  Anna passed the notes through the bars. “Is the doctor on his way?”

  “He’ll be here in good time.”

  The man left and Anna watched all their hopes go with him. She had to believe the doctor would come.

  “John. Get into bed. Please. Do it for me.”

  He grunted and somehow got to his feet. He fell onto the bed, and she thought it would have to do for now. He had no more energy to even pull the cover over himself.

  What was he about to say when they were interrupted?

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Anna was exhausted, and yet knowing how sick John was, she felt guilty for sleeping through the night. She got up from the makeshift pallet on the floor and stretched, easing the ache in her lower back. Peering through the bars in the dim light, she held her breath.

  Was he breathing? The moments ticked by as she looked for a sign. Over and over she grabbed handfuls of her skirts, clutching the fabric in her fists and letting go. His chest moved. She blinked to make sure she wasn’t seeing things, and it moved again. Slowly up and down. He was alive. A bit shaky, she sank down on the low wooden stool.

  Before she’d fallen asleep last, Anna heard John tell the guards to provide better accommodations for her. The men ignored him. They wouldn’t unless they thought he was being put to death soon or was dying. Her food had gone downhill as well. No longer hot, it was now rock-filled bread and cheese with watered-down wine. Seeing her treatment degrade gave her a sinking feeling. How much worse would it get if he were no longer here to watch over her? The sob caught in her throat. She couldn’t think like this. For his sake, she had to stay positive.

  A mouse darted into the cell, looking at her. She couldn’t eat, so she broke off a tiny piece of bread and threw it to him. He grabbed it and scurried back through the bars.

  Did they remove the bodies right away? If they didn’t, the thought of mice and rats gnawing on him was enough to make her sick.

  The entire day, she cajoled, pleaded, and yelled. Anything to get a response from John. Late that afternoon he started to hallucinate. Wiping her nose on her sleeve, she banged on the bars.

  “Get the constable. Right away.”

  The guards ignored her until they probably got tired of her yelling. The constable looked like he was in a grouchy mood when he finally showed up.

  “What do you want? Keep screaming and I’ll have you gagged.”

  Her voice was hoarse and rough from screaming. “Please. Get a doctor. I’m afraid he’s going to die.”

  The man was unmoved. “Denby said let him die.”

  “No. You cannot let him die.”

  The man turned and walked away from her. Anna curled up in ball on the pallet, rocking back and forth.

  By the time they brought supper, it was taking longer and longer for John’s chest to rise and fall. And she could hear what sounded like a rattling sound as he struggled to breathe.

  The guard slid her food through to her. She grasped the bars, pleading.

  “I beg you. Get him a doctor.” The man ignored her, and she tried one last thing. “If he has the fever, you all will get sick and die.”

  She was happy to see the man looked nervous. He scurried down the corridor. She wished with all her might he would do something.

  Anna had been so worried about John that she hadn’t even tried to go home. Once everyone was asleep for the night, she stood up. Her head ached like it was full of cotton, and her throat was scratchy. She was getting sick. Anna stood in the center of the cell and looked up to the sky.

  “I want to go home. My father needs me. Please send me back.” She closed her eyes and waited. Counted to twenty. When she opened them, she was still in the cell in medieval England.

  All through the night she tried. No matter what she did, nothing worked. She’d searched every inch of her cell and still didn’t have the locket. She didn’t see it in his cell. Either one of the guards found it and took the piece, or it was where she couldn’t see it. Then again, it might not be there at all. Maybe it was still in her own time. If it was necessary for her to go home, she was stuck. Unable to help either of the men in her life.

  Through John’s small window she could see the dawn breaking across the sky. She had to accept she was trapped in the past. And she also had to accept she might be alone. Might die in the tower.

  Footsteps sounded down the corridor. Anna was too emotionally exhausted to move. She sat on the pallet and stared through the bars at John.

  A man appeared. By his dress, he could only be someone important. He wore velvet and silk, and the colors were so bright in the dimness they made her head ache.

  The man sneered at her. “Is he dead yet?”

  “Who are you?”

  The man straightened up. He looked like a peacock. “I am Lord Denby and your fate is in my hands.”

  “Why don’t you come closer?”

  He was afraid. Worried he would get sick. But the pig leered at her. He made her skin crawl.

  “Guards.”

  Hope flooded her veins. Was he going to do the right thing and take John to a doctor? Her hopes were dashed as they opened the door not to his cell but to hers.

  “Bring her. I would have speech with her.”

  Somehow the sound of his voice had done what Anna could not. It roused John from his stupor. He staggered to his feet, fell, and crawled across the cell.

  “Leave her be. I will see you in hell, Denby.”

  The man scoffed at him. “You’ll be dead soon and you’ll be waiting a very long time for me, Thornton.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  As the guards dragged her down the corridor, Anna screamed and kicked. But after their treatment on the journey to the tower and three days in a cell, she was growing weaker by the day. And she was getting sick. She hoped they all caught it and died.

  Why were they moving her to another cell? The door opened and she found herself pushed into a room unlike anything she had seen so far. The chamber was richly appointed with plush carpets on the floor, tapestries on the wall, and a roaring fire in the hearth. And there was nice furniture and no mice waiting for crumbs. At least that she could see. Anna groaned in pleasure as she stood in front of the fire, warming herself.

  “Much better than where you were, yes?”

  She turned to see the man responsible for her current circumstances.

  “I’d like to go back to my cell now, please.”

  He curled his lip. “You will bathe and eat a proper meal.”

  Lord Denby opened the door, calling into the hall, “Come. Help her bathe and dress. Wash what she is wearing.”

  He pointed to a platter on the table. “Eat. Drink. When I return, we will have speech together.”

  Anna had no idea what he was up to, but she needed to keep her strength up. When the opportunity arose, she would try to escape. Get help for John. He was so weak that she knew he was dying. Hope was all she had left. Hope the messages were sent to his brothers and soon they would show up. Hope was the only thing keeping her going.

  “Eat, mistress. When the bath is ready, we will let you know.”

  She sat down at the table and inhaled the hot food. Was it good? Anna didn’t know. All she knew was she was hungry, and down it went. There was even a cloth napkin to wipe her mouth. As she sipped at the wine, she noticed something glinting under papers on the table.

  Sliding the papers to the side, she stared, unbelieving. The locket. She looked around the room to see if anyone was there. One of the women was busy heating water and wasn’t paying any attention. She slid the locket over and looked at it.

  It looked new. But it had been almost three months since she’d seen the original, so she couldn’t be sure it was the same one. The locket was empty. Where was the portrait? The front of the piece was missing the indent she remembered. Maybe it had gotten banged up over the years? After all, it’d been almost seven hundred years. She ran her finger across the surface and turned the locket over. Sh
e frowned.

  Still. It didn’t hurt to try. Anna grasped it tight in her palm and closed her eyes, whispering, “Take me home. I want to go back where I am needed.”

  “Mistress? Your bath is ready.”

  It hadn’t worked. She dropped the locket, guiltily sliding it back under the papers. Anna stood still as they undressed her and helped her into the tub. The water was blissfully hot and there was a sliver of some type of lavender-scented soap. She started to wash herself but the women took over. It was an odd sensation to have someone else bathe you. Scrubbing every part of you. Every part.

  When they washed her hair, scrubbing her scalp, she almost fell asleep. Though it felt odd not to feel a long coil of hair down her back, the heaviness when her hair was wet. Now it was light. She wasn’t used to short hair. The women helped her out of the tub, and she stood in front of the fire as they rubbed her dry with soft cloths.

  The women were quick and efficient as they dressed her. The dress was a pretty green, though it had a bit of an odor to it. She sniffed. It wasn’t too bad. As they sat her down and combed her hair, one of the women clucked her tongue.

  “Who did this to you, mistress?”

  She couldn’t look at the woman. The kindness in her voice was enough to make her start crying. Instead she bit the inside of her cheek, afraid that Denby was somewhere nearby, listening. No way did she want to sound weak.

  “The guards did it when I was captured.”

  “Bunch of brutes.”

  The other woman nodded. “Heard the bandit killed six of them. Good for him.”

  Anna sat on the stool staring into the fire as the women finished cleaning up, coming and going. She paid them little attention, too busy trying to recall exactly what the original locket looked like. It definitely had something on the front, where this one did not. And the inscription. It said, All our years together.

  Could that be right? She couldn’t be sure, since the inscription on the other one was worn off but…after she and Charlotte talked, Anna was convinced the locket had been meant for her. If it was supposed to be hers, what did the words mean? Was it that she had been here many years before the locket was given to her? Or was it a different locket?

  She was growing drowsy sitting by the fire when the door opened.

  “Praying for an outlaw?”

  She opened her eyes and stood up.

  “John will die a traitor’s death or of his illness, it matters not. The king listens to me. I am an important man. My sire wanted to behead him and be done with it, but I argued for having him drawn and quartered and hanged, as a bandit should be.”

  He walked over to her. The fire crackled, making her jump. She moved three steps back. There was something about him that made her uneasy. The look on his face made her wish to be invisible.

  “I will let you watch from this room when your lover is killed.”

  “You’re disgusting.”

  Denby grabbed hold of her face in his palms and tilted it to the light.

  “What does he see in you? You are so plain. My Letitia was known across the kingdom for her beauty. You are too ugly for one as important and rich as me to bed. Mayhap I’ll have you scrub my floors. The bandit’s woman on her hands and knees in my home. I would like that very much.”

  Yuck. What a creep. The thought of him putting his hands on her was enough to make her gag. The man sauntered over to the desk and rooted through the papers. Anna held her breath. He came back with the locket in his hand and a small bundle wrapped in cloth.

  “This arrived today. Word travels fast around London. The jeweler sent it here.”

  He handed her the locket.

  “I paid for it, as I was curious to see what trinket he wanted you to have. But this…”

  He handed her the bundle. It was light in her hands. She unwrapped it and gasped. Goosebumps broke out all over her skin. She bit her cheek hard until she tasted blood. When he turned his head, she stuck her finger in her mouth and touched the blood to the locket. Anna held both items in her hands, closed her eyes, and wished. She was still wishing when she heard his voice. She opened her eyes to see she was still in the past. Her shoulders slumped.

  “The bastard never gave my beautiful Letitia jewelry.” He made a face. “You are plain and require adornment.”

  She looked at the locket again. There was something different about it. But it had to be the same locket. There was no way there could be two. So she was truly trapped in the past. Her father would never know what happened to her. It was a small thing to be happy he had Alzheimer’s, for at least he wouldn’t miss her. But she was so worried about where he would end up without the money to help pay for his care.

  And she still had to deal with the fact she was in the past and sentenced to die. Had she traveled through time just to end up dead?

  Something wet landed on the portrait of John. He looked so handsome. It was snatched out of her hand.

  “Give it back. He would want me to have it.”

  Denby sneered at her and ripped the portrait in half. It gratified her to see it was difficult for him to rip the canvas. Then he threw the pieces in the fire.

  The man tossed the locket to her. “You can keep the trinket.”

  She snatched it and held it close.

  “Guards.”

  Anna looked down to see only one piece landed in the fire. She dropped to the floor, reaching out, snatching the other half. Before he noticed, she jammed it in the locket and snapped it closed. It was the half she had seen in her own time. This was the locket she had found in the future. Which meant she couldn’t get home. She was trapped here for as long as she might have left.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  The guards took Anna back to her cell. As they opened the door and pushed her in, she automatically looked to John. The bed was empty.

  “Wait.”

  One of the guards turned.

  “Where is he?”

  “Lord Denby had the bandit taken to see the physician.”

  “But he hates John.”

  The man heaved a long-suffering sigh. “I know not what goes through the minds of nobles.”

  The hours passed excruciatingly slowly. As evening turned to night, she could hear prisoners moaning as they fell asleep. Hear the guards laughing and talking to each other. It was full dark and still he had not returned. She stayed awake as long as she could.

  “I demand to see John Thornton.”

  Robert Thornton stood with hands on hips, arguing with the guard. Exasperated, he held out a bag of coins.

  “For your troubles?”

  The guard licked his lips, reached out, and snatched it back.

  “I cannot. Lord Denby threatened to kill us if we allow you to see the bandit or his woman.”

  “Bloody hell. Denby has gone too far.” Robert stomped away from the guard and went back to his carriage. At the tavern where the Thornton brothers had taken lodging, he strode through the doors and kicked at the table.

  “I take it you did not see him,” Edward said.

  “Denby has forbidden the guards to let us see John or Anna.”

  “Denby has lost his wits. ’Tis time for us to take action.” Christian paced back and forth across the floor.

  “Edward. You should go home,” Robert said.

  “The hell I will. I will not leave John to die.”

  Robert watched as Henry leaned forward, putting his hand on Edward’s shoulder. His brother always had the ability to calm Edward before he went into a rage.

  “Robert is right. You should stand apart. The king may no longer favor you if we press forward.”

  “Damnation. John is my brother. I will not let him die because some arrogant whoreson is jealous over a wife he cared nothing about. Letitia is dead. He parades his new wife before the king to offer her as mistress. He cares not for women.”

  Christian grinned. “With all of us together, the king will have to agree.”

  “Aye,” Henry said. “William and J
ames will stand with us. Whatever is needed. Gold, men. They will aid us.”

  Edward stood up, placing his palms flat on the table. He looked around the room and spoke in a low voice, full of controlled anger.

  “We will offer enough gold and men that the king will not refuse. When the war is over, we will likely suffer for daring to push him into a corner. I care not. I lost John once. I will not lose him again. Will you stand with me, brothers?”

  Robert spoke first: “I will stand.”

  “As will I,” said Henry.

  “’Tis only gold. Easy enough to come by. I don’t have as many men as the rest of you, but I will send all that I can. I will stand with you, brothers.” Christian slammed a fist on the table.

  “So be it,” Edward said. “I will seek an audience with the king today.”

  Robert sat in the chair, tipping it back. “We will get John back. Denby will die for his treachery. And later, if the king goes against us, let his men come.”

  All morning long, Anna paced back and forth, frantic with worry over John. After lunch, which they all called dinner, she was trying to come up with plans to escape when she heard a commotion.

  The guards were coming. She peered into the gloom. They were dragging someone. The door to his cell opened and they tossed John on the bed. His face was battered and bruised. Blood spattered his tunic.

  “What did you do to him? He’s sick. You’re going to kill him.”

  “He was tended to by the physician.” It was the guard who had been the least mean to her that spoke. Two of the guards chuckled as they turned their backs and left.

  Anna leaned against the bars staring at John.

  “What happened?”

  “Denby and I had a difference of opinion,” he rasped out.

  “I hate that wretched man.”

  John rolled to his side with a grunt and opened an eye. The other one was swollen shut. In the light coming in from the window in his cell, his normally golden skin looked gray.