by Josie Litton
“I hope you will be here for Edvard and Aelfgyth's wedding,” Krysta said courteously.
They had just stepped outside the chapel. Daria stopped and looked at her closely. “Have you said anything to Hawk of my plans?”
In truth, it had not occurred to Krysta to do so simply because she had been so busy. But upon reflection, she realized she would not have said anything to him even had she not given her word to Daria. He was likely to be relieved if not delighted by his half-sister's impending departure, and Krysta was loath to raise his hopes until it was certain they would not be dashed. But that was an unkind thought and she put it from her mind.
“No, I haven't. Have you thought more about what you intend to do?”
“Oh, yes,” Daria said as they began walking. “Indeed, I have thought of nothing else.”
“And your mind is … unchanged?”
“Unalterably. I have waited for this far too long to consider any other course.”
She was smiling again or perhaps still. Her expression seemed fixed.
“Where would you like to begin?” Krysta asked, hoping this would not take too long. Even knowing that Daria would be leaving Hawkforte did not make her company easy to bear. Still, Krysta was resolved to keep such sentiment to herself.
“First I must find Father Elbert and tell him I will be with you.”
Krysta wondered if Daria always felt it necessary to tell her priest of her whereabouts but said nothing. Perhaps they merely had plans. Father Elbert was found coming up the road from the town. He appeared deep in thought and started when he saw them.
“Father,” Daria said very clearly, “I shall be showing Lady Krysta around the manor. I do hope that it will not inconvenience you?”
The priest's gaze darted to Krysta and just as quickly darted away. He frowned. “No … I suppose not.” He met Daria's eyes, swallowed, and went on more firmly. “Of course not, my lady, no inconvenience at all.”
“Good.” Daria looked at him for a moment, resumed her fixed smile, and turned to Krysta. “I suggest we start with the storerooms.”
Already well acquainted with them and not eager to spend the last few hours of daylight roaming the dark chambers below ground, Krysta nonetheless agreed. She followed Daria around to a back entrance behind the great hall and from there down a flight of stairs. The foundations of Hawkforte's stronghold were sunk deep into the ground and walled in stone. At the bottom of the steps, Daria took tinder and flint from the small alcove where they were kept, and lit a torch kept in an iron bracket. Its light was welcome but could not dispel the chill air, so very different from the pleasant warmth above.
“I do have a fairly good idea of what is down here,” Krysta said, hoping to avoid an extended stay.
Daria smiled. In the long shadows cast by the torch, her face looked as though it were cracking. “I'm sure you do, but there are one or two things I doubt you've found yet.”
She led the way briskly down a passage. Krysta had no choice but to follow.
Chapter TWENTY-ONE
THE STONE FLOOR SLOPED DOWN STEEPLY. The air grew ever more chill and dank. Something skittered away around a corner. Krysta shivered and wished she had thought to bring a cloak. She had been down here only once before, with Edvard, and they had not lingered. She and Daria were already beyond the area where barrels of mead and ale were stored, yet Daria did not slow her pace. Krysta was bewildered, wondering what could possibly be kept so far removed from everything else and in such damp surroundings. Most anything would rot, and that which would not would still be very inconvenient to reach.
“Are we going much farther?” she asked as Daria showed no sign of stopping.
The older woman glanced back over her shoulder but her face was obscured by the shadows. “Not too much now. I think you'll find this very interesting.”
Krysta heard the lapping of water up ahead and frowned. She tried to determine their direction but the passage had twisted and turned so many times that she was disoriented. “Are we near the sea?”
Daria held up the torch. Water glinted just ahead. “Not the sea, an underground river that runs to it. This is the way out of Hawkforte should it ever come under siege. I'm surprised Hawk hasn't shown it to you yet.” She came closer so that the light of the torch shone directly on Krysta. “He hasn't, has he?”
“No, but he did say something about showing me an escape route. We just haven't had a chance yet.”
“Well, good, I've saved him the trouble. But this is only the beginning. There is much more of interest right near here.” They moved off along the course of the river where the ground climbed slightly. “Did you know that there was a stronghold on this site long before Hawkforte was built?”
“No, I didn't.” Krysta was genuinely pleased to be learning so much. She was about to say so when Daria went on.
“Likely it belonged to the Romans. They were idolaters, you know, before they converted to the true way. Signs of their pagan worship are still to be seen down here.” She pointed to an elaborately carved stone well sunk into the ground. The stone face of a horned man seemed to gaze back at them. “A place where such worship takes place remains doomed forever.”
“It must have been a very long time ago,” Krysta said gently. She did not wish to contradict Daria, and she did admit that the dark underground passages had an eerie feel to them, but she doubted they were cursed in any way.
“I tried to tell Hawk that,” Daria went on as though she had not heard. “I said this was not a place to be held by decent men but he refused to hear me.”
“He may have thought it most important to hold this land against the Danes no matter what happened here in the past.”
“Perhaps,” Daria said, then fell silent as they came to a place where the passage turned off to the left. She stepped back against the wall. “Go ahead, I will hold the light for you.”
Krysta looked at her quizzically. “What is there to see?”
“I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise.” Daria gestured with the torch.
Krysta turned the corner. At first, she saw nothing. Daria was no longer close behind her, and the dimmer light of the torch did little to illuminate the chamber ahead. Only when her eyes had adjusted to the darkness could Krysta make out the contours of a room hewn out of rock. It was small and dank, chill with a wind off the sea creeping around the rocks.
“What is this for?” she asked, turning, and was surprised to see that Daria had stepped even farther back. The walls of the chamber narrowed near where she was standing, almost as though fitted for a—
Clank.
The light vanished, save for a tiny sliver left just barely visible. Krysta rushed forward, slamming up against a heavy wooden door. At the level of her eyes, an opening had been cut but it was so small she could see very little.
Yet she could make out Daria's twisted face, contorted with glee.
“Fool! Stupid, ridiculous fool! How I prayed this would work and my prayers have been answered! Truly, the Lord smiles upon those who serve Him.”
Shock roared through Krysta, disbelief warring with the sickening realization of her peril. Even as her mind screamed, she spoke with forced calm. “My lady, what a good joke this is. Truly I have been played the fool. But now, I pray you, let me out and we will share this amusement with others.”
“Silence!” Daria shrieked. “You think to make me the fool, so sweet and placating you try to be! It will not work. All the weeks of scheming, thinking how it was to be done, playing the simpering dolt and then waiting—waiting and waiting!—for you finally to remember you had promised to go with me. I bided my time, hard though it was, and I have been vindicated. Here you will remain, Norse whore! Here you will rot!”
Terror clawed within Krysta, a cold and clammy horror that almost doubled her over. She fought it with every ounce of her strength. She had made a terrible mistake but this was no time to think of that. Now she must use all the guile she possessed to escape the clutches of the
madwoman.
“Daria, please, I am quite frightened enough. Your point is well and thoroughly made. I do not know Hawkforte anywhere near as well as I should. Truly, you must stay on here as long as you possibly can bear so that I may be properly instructed.”
“Stay on? Twice times fool! I despise this place! I hate it with every fiber of my being. I, who should have had a great manor of my own, was cast instead upon the pity of my loathed half-brother and forced to play his servant. But no more! I will have my due at last. I will—”
She broke off suddenly, as though aware she said too much. A sneer twisted her mouth. “Don't worry, fool, it will not take you so very long to die. Much as I would like to think of you suffering here, dying slowly of thirst and hunger, I cannot take the risk of that. Only a few hours and then the flames of eternal damnation will consume you.”
She lingered a moment longer, staring at Krysta where she stood frozen in the small opening of the door. With a wild laugh, Daria departed. The light faded with her and Krysta was left alone in the utter dark.
Her heart was pounding. She heard it with startling clarity just as she smelled the damp rot of the cell and felt the chill air sink through her gown to bore deep within her body. Perhaps her mind, denied the stimulation of vision, was exaggerating all else. That was a rational thought and she held on to it with all her power, for beyond it, like a beast lying in wait for her, was madness.
She shut her eyes and saw fragments of dancing light behind her lids. When she opened them again, the darkness outside was deeper than that which dwelled within her. Shaking, she reached out a hand and touched the closed door. Contact with the solid wood seemed to anchor her in some small way.
Her rapid breathing and the drumbeat of her heart shattered the silence of centuries. Desperately, she tried not to think of how very far she was from light and hope, weighed down by unknowable tons of rock and dirt, as though buried alive. And so alone … so horribly, terrify-ingly alone.
Yet not alone. The thought, little more than faint possibility, that had begun in her days before solidified suddenly into certainty. She was with child. Another being shared this cell with her and would share her fate, her tiny and yet so dearly loved child.
Fierce protectiveness such as she had never known surged within her so powerfully as to push aside terror. Krysta took a deep, steadying breath. Only a few hours.
Hours in darkness and despair could render her too benumbed to resist. That must not happen. She needed to find something, anything, with which to defend herself… and her child.
Slowly, methodically, Krysta began to search the chamber with her hands, going inch by inch from floor to ceiling.
HAWK RETURNED FROM HUNTING IN EARLY EVE-ning. He and Dragon shared a sauna before parting in front of the great hall. While there yet was light, Dragon intended to inspect his ship and make sure all was in readiness for his departure the next day. Hawk had it in his mind to find Krysta and pleasantly while away the hour or so before supper.
He didn't get very far in that direction before he was intercepted by Edvard with Aelfgyth close on his heels. “Your pardon, lord,” the steward said, “but if I might speak with you?”
Coming up close behind her betrothed, Aelfgyth dug her elbow into his side as though to remind him he was not alone in seeking the Hawk's notice. “If we might speak with you,” Edvard corrected himself.
Hawk was inclined to look on the young couple with favor. He nodded and prepared to listen with patience, although he ached to find his bride.
“I have told Aelfgyth there is no reason for alarm,” Edvard said with a quick glance at the woman who stood at his side. “But she is concerned nonetheless and I thought you might reassure her—”
“I last saw the Lady Krysta full three hours ago,” Aelfgyth said. “An hour since I went looking for her. The gown she has so generously given is finished and I wanted her to see it. But I cannot find her. I have searched the kitchens, her own quarters, the weaving shed, the stables, and everywhere else I could think of and still there is no sign of her.”
Hawk did think this surprising but in no way saw it as cause for alarm. Hawkforte was a goodly sized manor and Krysta was becoming acquainted with all of it. She could be anywhere.
“She may have gone down to the town,” he suggested, “or she could be any number of other places. It is scarcely an hour to supper. She will appear.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Edvard said hastily. He took Aelfgyth's elbow and turned to go, but she was having none of it.
“But that is just it, my lord,” Aelfgyth insisted. “The Lady Krysta would never go off somewhere when supper is being prepared, and this the last evening before Lord Dragon leaves. She would be in the kitchens or dressing. Certainly she would not be far from either place, yet I cannot find her.”
She looked from one man to the other, the fast-rising steward she was soon to marry and the powerful lord in whose service they both were pledged. Her own audacity amazed her yet she remembered the many kindnesses of the Lady Krysta and resolved to stand her ground.
“I am telling you,” Aelfgyth said on a note of desperation, “something is wrong.”
Edvard hesitated, and Hawk looked closely at the young woman. He had never paid her much mind but he knew she had a gentle nature and now he saw that she was also intelligent.
The girl had merit, and therefore, just possibly, so did what she said.
“All right,” he said slowly. “Where exactly have you searched?”
Again, Aelfgyth rattled off the list of everywhere she had been in the past hour. When she was done, Hawk nodded. “You realize you may have simply been missing her if she moved from place to place?”
“That is possible,” Aelfgyth conceded, “yet I told them in the kitchens to send word to me if she appeared and none has come. It makes no sense that she would not go there.”
Hawk had to concede this. He was beginning seriously to wonder where Krysta had gotten off to but he was still far from alarmed. Hawkforte was extremely well protected. The Danes might be able to infiltrate spies from time to time but they could do nothing more than look.
Still, accidents could happen. At the thought that one might have happened to Krysta, his easy mood vanished.
His wife could not be found. The reason was most likely benign and she would emerge safe and sound, surprised to have been the object of concern. Three hours, Aelfgyth had said, and an hour of that spent searching for her. It was enough.
“Summon the servants,” he said. “Question anyone who talked with her today. Find out if she said anything about going anywhere.”
“As you wish, lord,” the steward said. He too looked concerned now. “Where may I report to you?”
“I'll be on the walls talking with the watch. I want to know where she went and who she was with.”
As Edvard and Aelfgyth hurried to obey, Hawk strode across the yard and took the nearest steps two at a time to the top of the walls. He found the lieutenant in charge of the watch and questioned him closely. Almost immediately, several other men were summoned and among them they tried to recall if they had seen the Lady Krysta during the day. The problem was that they were charged, sensibly enough, with keeping watch on whoever might be approaching Hawkforte, not on those already within it. Looking outward rather than inward, they saw relatively little of what went on inside the stronghold. Yet there were inevitably times when their attention shifted.
“I was just coming on duty, lord,” said a young man-at-arms. He was a bit nervous, called as he was to report directly to the Hawk, but he knew of what he spoke. “As I crossed the yard, I noticed the Lady Krysta take leave of her maid, who went on down to the town in the direction of her mother's house. Lady Krysta herself went toward the chapel.”
“Did you see her go in there?” Hawk asked.
The young man shook his head. “No, lord, I reported for duty then.”
Hawk nodded, satisfied that he had the best information he was going to get
. “Send several men out to see if they can locate that fellow Thorgold, and also, if possible, the woman called Raven.”
As the lieutenant barked orders, Hawk left the walls and walked quickly to the chapel. He found it empty save for Father Elbert. The priest looked startled to see him but recovered quickly and adopted his usual expression of vague disapproval.
“You wished something, lord?”
Reminded of how much he disliked the man, and how of late he had thought frequently of replacing him, Hawk spoke sharply. “Have you seen the Lady Krysta?”
The priest raised an eyebrow. “Here, lord? No, I have not. I see her very rarely.”
“She came this way in late afternoon.”
“I was not here then.”
“Who was?”
Father Elbert shrugged, “I have no idea.” He looked directly at Hawk as he spoke, the picture of candor. Yet he was unusually pale.
“Where is the Lady Daria?”
Was it a trick of the light or did the priest flinch?
“Again, lord, I have no idea. She is in chapel more than usual of late but not just now. May I suggest you seek her in her quarters?”
Several moments longer Hawk surveyed the priest before he decided there was nothing more to be gotten. Abruptly, he walked out of the chapel.
Daria was in her quarters. She was seated beside a window with a piece of embroidery in her lap. Why was it she always looked posed? Hawk pushed the thought aside and spoke directly.
“I am seeking my wife. Have you seen her?”
“The Lady Krysta?” Daria pondered for a moment, then shook her head. “No, I have not, but surely she will be in the hall soon. It is almost time for supper.”
Well aware of that, Hawk took his leave as quickly as he had come. In the hall, he found Edvard questioning the servants. No one had seen Krysta since late afternoon. Hearing this, Hawk's mind was made up.
“I want her found. Separate the servants into groups and start them searching.” As Edvard hastened to do as he was bade, Hawk summoned his lieutenants and gave the same orders for the garrison. With darkness rapidly approaching, dozens of torches were lit and handed out to the search teams.
