“There is a third knight with them, I am told,” he said. “Where is the man?”
Samuel struggled to remain casual in his manner. “I saw him with the horses, I believe.”
“Another Pembroke knight?”
“He is not wearing the standard.”
Evidently, that wasn’t what de Meynell wanted to hear. He looked at the knight standing next to him, the one who had been in Skipton, and nodded his head. That brought forth both a wicked grin and a sword from the knight, pointed directly at Samuel.
In fact, the rest of the knights unsheathed their swords, heading for Alexander and Caius, who reacted in kind. Their swords came out and, very quickly, the situation was about to turn deadly. De Meynell moved out of the range of the coming fight, but his attention remained on Caius and Alexander.
“Something very strange is going on here,” he said thoughtfully. “First, the lady is caught trying to send information to Richmond Castle, very sensitive information, and now I have the commander of Richmond in my midst. Stranger still, my knight swears that Estienne’s brother is Pembroke, and so is the third knight in question. These are the same men who traveled with the lady and the third knight is not here. That begs the question – where is he?”
Samuel, who wasn’t armed, was eyeing the swords around him with a good deal of trepidation. “I told you,” he said. “He was out with the horses. These swords are not necessary, Witton. Tell your men to stand down.”
But de Meynell shook his head. “I do not think so,” he said. “In fact, we are all going to go down to the bailey and locate that third knight. I wonder if he is really with the horses.”
“Where else would he be?”
De Meynell cocked an eyebrow. “He could be looking for the fourth Pembroke warrior, which happens to be your sister. Mayhap they have returned to save the spy they planted in your midst?”
Samuel stiffened. “My sister is not a spy.”
De Meynell didn’t waste any time. Snatching the sword from the nearest knight, he walked up to Samuel and put the tip of the sword right in the man’s face.
“We are going to find out,” he hissed. Then, he eyed Alexander and Caius, who were braced for battle. “If you do not drop your swords, I will drive this blade through Samuel’s foolish head. And when he is dead, I will go straight to the lady and do the same thing to her. You will have your spy returned to you, but she will be in pieces. Is this in any way unclear?”
Alexander dropped his sword without hesitation, with Caius a split second behind him. As de Meynell’s men rushed them and took away all of their weapons, shoving them around in the process, de Meynell kept his sword leveled on Samuel. When both Alexander and Caius were stripped of anything sharp and deadly, de Meynell looked at Samuel.
“Come along, Samuel,” he said, almost pleasantly. “Let us find the third knight. What is his name?”
Samuel was sick to his stomach. God help him, the situation had deteriorated rapidly thanks to him. He felt like such a fool; a worthless fool.
“Achilles,” he said quietly.
De Meynell smiled humorlessly. “Then let us find Sir Achilles.”
With a heavy sigh, Samuel turned for the hall entry, praying with every ounce of strength that Achilles had managed to remove Susanna from the vault. He would simply have to deal with the consequences of a vanished knight and a missing prisoner, but he would deal with it when the time came.
If the time came.
He’d never prayed so fervently in his entire life.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Susanna thought she was dreaming.
Crumpled up on the musty, damp straw, she was sleeping heavily when the sound of the clanging cell door opened again. Suddenly, someone was lifting her up and, half-asleep, she swung her fists in a panic, making contact with some part of a head and listening to a man grunt in pain.
“Sparks! Stop fighting! ’Tis me!”
Sparks. Opening her eyes in shock, Susanna sincerely thought she was dreaming when she found herself face to face with Achilles. With a gasp, she threw herself at him, arms around his neck, squeezing the life from him. But just as quickly, she let him go, looking at him with horror.
“What are you doing here?” she hissed. “You are not supposed to be here!”
Achilles had his hands on her, feeling her trembling in his grip. But he wasn’t hearing her words as much as he was looking at her face – it was bruised and cut. That beautiful face had taken a beating and his heart sank. Reaching up, he stroked a soft, if not swollen, cheek.
“Oh… Sparks,” he sighed heavily. “What did they do to you?”
Susanna put her hand up, covering his hand as it touched her face. “They got it worse than I did,” she said, trying to smile. “It took twelve of them to capture me.”
Achilles, in spite of feeling so terrible, started to laugh. He couldn’t help himself because he had a mental image of exactly what it took to capture a woman who would not be captured. He would have expected nothing less. Gently cupping her face in his two big hands, he kissed her tenderly.
“I believe you,” he said. “But you’re in a bit of trouble now.”
She nodded, her smile fading. “Did you see Samuel? Is that why you are here?”
He nodded. “He found me in the bailey,” he said. “He has asked me to help you escape.”
Susanna didn’t look pleased. “I told him to tell you to run away,” she said. “I do not want you caught up in this.”
“I am already caught up in this.”
Susanna put her hands on his stubbled face, gazing at him imploringly. “De Meynell is accumulating an army of mercenaries from his wife’s father,” she said softly, quickly. “The Duke of Brittany is involved and French mercenaries are expected by Christmas. The target is Richmond Castle, Achilles. The Duke of Brittany wants it. I was trying to get that message to Richmond but de Meynell’s men intercepted my missive. It might not have been so bad except for the fact that one of the de Meynell knights we battled in Skipton, at The Horse’s Arse tavern, is here with de Meynell. He identified me as having been seen with you and Alexander – Pembroke knights. That is another reason you must leave quickly – he will identify you, too.”
Achilles had heard most of that from Samuel. But he hadn’t heard the last part, about the knight who had been at The Horse’s Arse.
“Did you recognize him as one of the knights?” he asked.
She shook her head. “He saw me first and recognized me,” she said. “Unfortunately, he was the one who had intercepted my missive from my maid.”
“Your maid? I did not realize you had one.”
Susanna nodded, running her hand down his cheek because he was just so beautiful to her. “I had a maid and three fine dresses made,” she said proudly, a glimmer of mirth in her eyes. “They were quite fine dresses and I was eager to show them to you.”
He smiled, the thought of seeing her in a lovely garment already pleasing him. “I am eager to see them.”
“You cannot. I burned my entire chamber out when de Meynell’s men came to capture me. Somewhere between throwing burning clumps of wood at them and hurling a bank of candles at someone’s head, I ended up burning about half of the apartments.”
Achilles chuckled quietly, more imagery of her fighting off twelve men filling his mind. He chuckled because she was so fearless and so bold. He chuckled because he was proud of those traits, traits that had greatly annoyed him in the past.
But those days were long gone.
“I can have more garments commissioned for you,” he said. “I may be old and gray by the time I see you in them, but I am determined to see you in fine clothing at some point in my life. You will not deny me that joy.”
He meant it as a jest, something to lighten the mood, but it was a moment short lived. Susanna’s smile quickly faded.
“I will ask you again to go, Achilles,” she said softly. “I do not want de Meynell’s venom turned on you.”
He lo
oked deeply into her eyes before reaching up to stroke her matted curls. “Would you leave me if the situation were reversed?”
She hesitated even though she knew what her answer would be. “I would not.”
“And I will not leave you, either. Your trouble is my trouble, do you understand?”
She nodded, a smile of infinite sorrow coming to her lips. “Unfortunately, I do.”
His eyes glimmered with warmth. “I know you do,” he said. “There is no more time for talk. I must figure out how to get you out of here without being noticed, for you are very noticeable.”
He was indicating her hair and her hand instinctively flew to it. “My clothing, too,” she said. “If you only had a cloak so that I could cover myself.”
He turned to look back at Samuel’s man, still standing back by the cell door. The man was wearing a simple tunic, draping down to his knees, and Achilles pointed to him.
“You,” he snapped quietly. “Give me your tunic for the lady. We must disguise her somehow to get her out of here so the gate guards will not notice.”
The man rushed forward, pulling his tunic off and handing it over to Achilles. “Hurry, my lord,” he hissed. “We must hurry.”
Achilles knew that. He handed the tunic over to Susanna, who took it but didn’t put it on. She simply looked at it. “This will not do any good,” she said. “As soon as they see this head of hair, they will know it is me. Do you have a dagger with you?”
Achilles nodded, unsheathing a razor-sharp blade he had at his waist. “What do you want with it?”
Susanna took it from him. Before he could stop her, she held out a clump of her thick, curly hair and cut it right of, down by the scalp. Achilles’ eyes widened.
“What are you doing?” he hissed.
Susanna took another clump and sliced that one off, too. She kept going, grabbing at her hair and slicing it off near her scalp. Pieces of red hair began to fall.
“I must get rid of this,” she said, watching big chunks of her hair collapse into the straw. “You said it yourself; they will recognize me in an instant with all of this hair. But if I get rid of it, we may have more of a chance to escape unnoticed.”
It was actually quite logical and quite reasonable, but Achilles was heartbroken as he watched her slice of chunks of hair. He couldn’t even stop her because it was the smart thing to do. That beautiful, curly, untamed hair, copper-colored and glorious, was being unceremoniously hacked off.
He’d never seen anything so brave.
In stunned silence, Achilles watched her until she came to the back of her head and she couldn’t quite get to it. With a heavy heart, he silently took the dagger from her, cutting off the rest of her hair and watching the beautiful curls fall to the musty straw. Because he shaved his own head regularly, he was rather skilled with the sharp blade and ended up cutting what he could close to her scalp so it didn’t look so choppy. In the end, he sliced her hair as short as he could get it without actually shaving her head.
But it was a painful thing to have to do to so beautiful a woman, if only to save her life. He realized as he finished shaping it up that he was close to tears. When Susanna caught a glimpse of him, her expression was wrought with uncertainty.
“I am sorry to look so terrible,” she said. “I would never shame you if I can help it, but I feel this is necessary. My hair is too recognizable. It will grow back. I promise.”
He shook his head. “Is that what you think?” he said, incredulous. “That was not what I was thinking at all. I was thinking that I have never seen you look so beautiful.”
Tears came to her eyes, knowing he was lying but loving him all the more for saying such a thing. She smiled timidly and he grinned, running his hand over her stubbly head, kissing her sweetly because she was tearing up. As she wiped at her eyes, de Tiegh’s soldier waved his hands at them.
“We must go, my lord,” he said. “We cannot delay any longer.”
Achilles was on his feet, pulling Susanna up next to him as she quickly pulled the long tunic over her head. She kept touching her hair, or lack thereof, trying not to look at the pile of it on the ground. Achilles moved to the cell door, looking to the steps that led up to the ground level above.
“I want you to go to the doorway and ensure there is nothing between us and the stables,” he said. “We will be making haste for the horses. You must be at the gatehouse when we ride through so they do not try and stop us. Do you understand?”
The soldier nodded quickly. “Aye, my lord.”
“I do not even know your name.”
“Byron, my lord.”
“You have been most helpful, Byron. I shall not forget it.”
Byron ran on ahead as Achilles held out a hand to Susanna, who took it and squeezed it strongly. He kissed her hand, smiling encouragingly at her. He watched Byron step outside, cautiously.
He never came back.
Concerned, Achilles let go of Susanna’s hand and hesitantly made his way towards the stairs to see if he could hear, or see, anything happening above. It was still and silent from what he could see; no movement. He was about to take the first step, heading up to see what he could see, when he heard a voice.
“You had better come out now.” It was an unfamiliar voice. “I know you are down there with her, Sir Achilles. You had better come out.”
Achilles had no idea who it was until he turned to look at Susanna, who was a few steps behind him. He would never forget the expression of sheer terror on her face.
“De Meynell,” she whispered tightly. “It is de Meynell.”
They’d been found.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Achilles came through the vault entrance first, but Susanna was close behind him. They were holding hands as they emerged into the worst scene they could have possibly imagined.
Byron was on the ground, several feet away, where he’d been dumped by de Meynell knights who had captured him as he’d emerged from the vault. He had a gash on his head from having been struck, sitting upright with his hand on his head. But it wasn’t Byron who had Achilles’ attention.
It was Alexander and Caius.
They were stripped of their weapons, standing several feet away and surrounded by heavily-armed men. Their expressions were emotionless for the most part, but standing just a few feet from them and directly in front of Achilles was Samuel and another man he didn’t recognize.
Samuel appeared pale and drawn, but the man next to him appeared curious, almost pleasant, until he got a good look at Susanna. Then, his face darkened.
“God’s Bones,” he spat. “What happened to your hair?”
Susanna put her hand on her head, an instinctive reaction. “I cut it off,” she said steadily. “I no longer have any use for it.”
De Meynell stared at her. Then, he started to move towards her, as if they were the only two people standing in that bailey. He came closer and closer, his features taut with rage. But before he could get to her, Achilles stepped into his path.
De Meynell came to an abrupt halt.
“What are you doing?” he demanded, looking at Achilles, who was a head taller than he was. “Get out of my way.”
Achilles shook his head. “If you have anything to say to her, say it to me.”
De Meynell’s features screwed up with confusion. “I will deal with you in a moment,” he said. “Get out of my way or this will not go well for either of you.”
Achilles held his ground, at least for the next few moments. But then, gentle hands were on him, pushing him aside as Susanna stepped forward to defuse the confrontation.
“Please, Achilles,” she said softly. “It is all right. I will speak with him.”
Achilles did not like it, but he complied, moving aside as his eyes were shooting daggers at de Meynell. It was an extraordinarily threatening move, one that could have gone very badly in Achilles favor, but Susanna was there, taking de Meynell’s focus off of Achilles.
“Well?” she said. “What
is it you wish?”
De Meynell was glaring at her. Coming from a man who normally kept his temper well, it was an unusual state.
“Your hair,” he growled. “What did you do?”
She lifted a well-shaped brow. “That should be obvious.”
He grunted in frustration. “I can see that you cut it,” he said. “Why did you do it? It makes you look like a man!”
Susanna didn’t respond to his anger or his insult. “I like it better this way.”
De Meynell’s eyes widened. “You did it deliberately,” he said, as if the idea had just occurred to him. “You did it so you would look less attractive, didn’t you? I told you what your fate would be and you did this to deliberately make yourself undesirable!”
Susanna lifted her shoulders. “I do not care what you think. It is done.”
De Meynell was furious. All of that gorgeous red hair that made her something worth looking at, a prize of amazing stature, was gone. In its place was an uneven cut, close to the scalp.
He could hardly believe it.
“It will not work,” he said. “Whatever you think you have done to make yourself unattractive will not work. Your fate is the same regardless. You have breasts and a womb, and that is all you need to please men.”
Achilles flinched but Susanna held out a hand to him, stopping him from charging. “Insult me all you wish. It does not change things.”
De Meynell clenched his teeth. “Mayhap it does not, but you should remember what I told you if you tried to resist. I was not jesting.”
“What we discussed had nothing to do with my hair.”
She was being defiant, which was rebellious as far as de Meynell was concerned. She had been warned. He was wildly angry that his plans for her had been thwarted, by her own hand no less.
He wasn’t going to let her get away with it.
In a fit of rage, he marched over to one of his knights and unsheathed a dagger from the man’s belt. Then, he stormed over to Samuel, who was simply standing there quietly. Raising the dagger, he plunged it right into Samuel’s shoulder.
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