Song of Isabel

by Ida Curtis

  Lothar was pacing while he spoke. When he finished, he sat down and leaned his head back against the chair. “I think it’s time for me to return to Rome. I’m truly sorry I lost my temper with Lord Chetwynd. His connection with the queen and the bad timing of his arrival pushed me beyond good sense.”

  Justin appreciated the frankness with which Lothar spoke. “I wonder if we will ever find out who was behind Isabel’s kidnapping,” he said. “I can’t really believe that one of the bishops was involved. They might view Gerberga as a threat to Christianity because of some of her practices, but I doubt they would view Chetwynd as a threat to their plans, despite his connection to Judith. The more we learn, the more puzzling the kidnapping seems.”

  IN THE GREAT HALL, MARIANNA, INGRAM, AND Jerome were nervously keeping a vigil for Justin’s return. Marianna had told them that Isabel had gone to seek Chetwynd in the dungeon, disguised as a serving maid. When Isabel did not return with Herlinda, Marianna blamed herself and sought out Chetwynd’s men. Although Ingram had been upset that Marianna had allowed her mistress to attempt such a folly, her distress tempered his reprimand. Ingram knew that King Lothar had summoned Justin, and he guessed it had something to do with Chetwynd and Isabel.

  There were a few men drinking and speaking loudly at a nearby table, but the large hall was almost empty. Each time someone entered the hall, the three turned to see if it was Justin or Gilda returning. When it happened again, Marianna’s eyes widened. She recognized the new arrival.

  “It’s him,” she whispered urgently.

  “Who?” Ingram asked, recognizing the man before she could reply. He lowered his head and whispered to Jerome. “It’s the leader of the kidnappers.”

  Jerome turned away as though he had no interest in the man. Then before either of the other two could move, he casually stood up and walked toward where the man had taken a seat across the room. The newcomer stared at Jerome for a minute before dismissing the small young man as an unlikely threat. But when he turned away, Jerome jumped the outlaw from behind. Ingram had guessed his intention and was there to help by the time Jerome had wrestled the man to the floor.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHETWYND’S HEAD ACHED. WANTING TO stay alert, he had refused the powder the physician offered him. However, he had accepted a damp cloth, and it was draped over his eyes as he lay on the bench. His ribs were sore, but other than a bump on the head and bruised ribs, the guards had inflicted no serious damage. That fact didn’t make Chetwynd feel any better. He should have fought harder, overpowered the guards, and rescued Isabel from Lothar.

  He groaned at the thought. He should have kept his head and done nothing, but Isabel’s scream and the knife at her throat had broken his composure. It was only later he realized that she had screamed because the guards were beating him. Even the idea that she might be hurt had driven him mad, and it still did. He jumped up and threw the cloth at the wall.

  The physician had sworn that Isabel was fine, but he could have been lying to protect Lothar. Although why Lothar would need to be protected from a man locked in a cell was difficult to understand. Chetwynd moved to the door and made yet another unsuccessful attempt to force it open by ramming it with his shoulder. The resulting pain made him lean his head against the bars. As he stood there, he heard a voice just out of sight of his window.

  “Guard!” he shouted, but closed his eyes at the sharp pain the effort caused him. “Come here for a minute. I need to talk to you.”

  When Chetwynd opened his eyes, he saw Isabel moving toward him down the narrow hallway. Certain she was a hallucination, he blinked his eyes. But when he opened them again, she was still there, only closer. Although he was aware of people behind her, he couldn’t take his eyes from her face.

  With her hair still uncovered and her head held high, Isabel seemed to be moving in slow motion. Afraid to say a word and break the spell, Chetwynd watched her in silence. The smile on her lips kept getting wider. The realization that Isabel was truly there, and her expression of pleasure at seeing him, made his heart twist with something that was both pleasure and pain.

  His hands were on the bars at the window, and Isabel lifted one of hers to touch him. He grasped her hand in both of his and whispered in a husky voice, “Are you all right?”

  Isabel nodded. She could see that there was blood in his fair hair, but she did her best to ignore it. He was alive and happy to see her. She remembered that she was supposed to reassure him that she was unharmed and tell him that he would be released when King Louis arrived, but she couldn’t speak. There seemed to be an obstruction in her throat.

  There were questions Chetwynd wanted to ask her, but all he could think to say was, “I want to hold you.”

  Isabel’s lips were pressed together, and Chetwynd realized she was fighting hard to keep from crying. He didn’t want to make her cry until he could hold and comfort her, so he looked beyond her for help. He saw both Justin and Gilda. Relief flooded his body at the sight of the two people he had depended upon so often for support. They would take care of Isabel.

  Aware that Isabel was still struggling to maintain her composure, Chetwynd spoke in a calm voice so as not to upset her. “What has happened, Justin? Can you get me released?”

  “King Louis is on his way to Aachen, Chetwynd. As soon as he arrives, Lothar will be leaving and you will be released. That should be tomorrow.”

  Chetwynd narrowed his eyes. Why couldn’t he be released now? he wondered, but he was afraid to ask. He was still holding Isabel’s hand, and it was trembling. Gilda had moved to stand beside her. He couldn’t be sure from his small window, but his sister seemed to be supporting Isabel. Gilda spoke to him in a reassuring voice. “It won’t be long now before you’ll be free and can join Isabel, Chetwynd. King Louis traveled to Saint Ives to fetch the queen, and he is on his way back to the palace. Lothar gave us permission to speak to you and give you a chance to see Isabel. He is sorry for what happened earlier.”

  Although doubting what she said about Lothar, Chetwynd nodded his head. “Good, good.” Something was going on, and he couldn’t imagine what it was. Clearly everyone wanted him to remain calm, so he would try to do that.

  They had reached an awkward impasse, and Justin hesitated, wondering what to do next. They were supposed to be reassuring Chetwynd that Isabel was all right, but Justin could tell they hadn’t succeeded. He had never thought of Chetwynd as overly perceptive, but he certainly shared a connection with Isabel. There was no doubt in Justin’s mind that Chetwynd could read Isabel’s feelings and knew that something was wrong. He would have preferred to tell Chetwynd of Isabel’s injury and explain that it was an accident, but he was afraid that would make the situation worse.

  “We’ll take care of Isabel,” Justin promised. “I think she needs some rest, so we’ll take her to your chambers where she can wait for you.”

  Chetwynd wanted to shout, No, don’t take her away, but he just nodded and kissed her hand.

  Suddenly he heard shouting in the hallway. The commotion was out of Chetwynd’s view, but he saw surprise on Justin’s face, and he thought he recognized one of the arguing voices. Isabel pulled away from the door. When she was no longer filling the small window, Chetwynd could see that Jerome was being dragged down the corridor by two guards.

  “Unhand the lad!” Isabel shouted, and Chetwynd was sure she would have advanced on the guards if Justin hadn’t held her back.

  They were the first words Isabel had spoken, and Chetwynd gave a sigh of relief at hearing them. The power in her voice told him she was all right.

  Ignoring Isabel, the guards were trying to restrain a struggling Jerome. In spite of their efforts, the much smaller lad had dragged them to Isabel’s side.

  Gilda stepped forward to distract the guards. “Why have you taken our squire?” she asked as though she were out in the courtyard instead of in a dungeon. “He belongs with our party. No doubt he came looking for us. I know he can be impulsive, but release him into Lor
d Justin’s custody and we’ll take him away with us.”

  The reasonable sounding demands coming from the small, beautiful woman distracted them for only a minute. “We had instructions to let you speak with the prisoner,” one of the guards answered her as though their actions needed explaining. “There were no instructions about this one. He was causing a disturbance outside the dungeon, demanding to speak with a prisoner. He refused to go away. We’ll let him cool off in a cell for a while.”

  Although one of the guards still held his arm, Jerome ignored the conversation between the guards and Gilda. He grinned at Isabel, clearly delighted to see her, and then turned to Chetwynd. “Ingram and I spotted the kidnapper. He came into the great hall. I told Ingram I’d get a message to you.”

  Chetwynd’s eyes were wide with surprise as he nodded at his squire. He wondered if Ingram had known Jerome would force his way into the dungeon. “You did well, Jerome. Did the kidnapper tell you anything?”

  “No, he won’t talk to us. Ingram questioned him, but he pretends to know nothing of the affair.”

  One of the guards was furious that Jerome had succeeded in his efforts to speak to Chetwynd. He tried to pull Jerome away, but Justin intervened. “Wait. This lad has information King Lothar will be eager to hear.” When the guard ignored his words, Justin added, “You don’t want to be on the wrong side of Lothar. He will be angry if he can’t speak to this lad immediately.”

  The guard hesitated and Justin addressed Jerome. “Where is this kidnapper?”

  “Ingram and Marianna are holding him. I left them in the great hall.”

  Justin turned back to Chetwynd. “Perhaps we can clear up this matter. If Lothar is innocent of any involvement as he claims, he will want to hear about the capture of the kidnapper. I’ll persuade him you should be there when he questions the man. Hopefully, that will be very soon.”

  “And if Lothar’s not innocent?” Chetwynd asked.

  “I think he is,” Justin said, remembering the things Lothar had said earlier. There wasn’t time to fill Chetwynd in. “You’ll have to trust me. It won’t be long now, Chetwynd,” Justin assured him.

  “I do trust you. Please take Isabel out of here.”

  When Isabel tried to move back to the cell, Justin took her arm. “Come with me, Isabel.” She paused and he added, “I need your support in persuading Lothar to free Chetwynd.”

  Still dazed by all that had happened, Isabel was reluctant to follow her brother until Chetwynd encouraged her. “Go with Justin, my love. I will be joining you shortly.”

  “What about this one?” asked the guard who still held Jerome by the arm.

  “I told you, he needs to come with us,” Justin answered. “You can bring him yourself if you doubt my word.”

  IT WAS ABOUT AN HOUR LATER WHEN CHETWYND was escorted into Lothar’s chambers. Gilda had insisted that Isabel rest in a chair, but Isabel had been watching the door and she leapt up, ran across the room, and threw herself into Chetwynd’s arms. He lifted her off the floor and buried his face in her hair. It seemed like forever since he had held her.

  King Lothar was watching from across the chamber, and he grimaced at the sight of Chetwynd swinging Isabel into the air. “Be gentle with her,” he shouted.

  Chetwynd’s face was buried in Isabel’s hair, but his head jerked up at the words. He gently lowered Isabel to the floor, but she wouldn’t release her arms from around his neck. He remembered how weak she had seemed outside his cell. “Are you injured, Isabel?”

  “It’s nothing.”

  Chetwynd looked at Lothar for an answer, but Justin had stepped in front of him. “Chetwynd, I hope you’ll remember what happened the last time you lost your temper,” Justin warned. “In the struggle in your cell, Isabel’s hand was cut. It’s a minor wound that has been attended to by Lothar’s physician.”

  Before Justin finished his explanation, Chetwynd was gently pulling Isabel’s arms from around his neck. He saw the wrapped hand, and remembered how Lothar had been holding a knife to her neck in his cell.

  “Are you hurt anywhere else?” he asked.

  “No, just this small cut on my hand. It was my fault, Chetwynd,” she said, pleading with him to understand. “I should never have come to your cell. It was an accident.”

  Chetwynd turned her hand over in both of his. “It was not your fault, Isabel. Does it hurt?”

  “No. It’s fine, truly.”

  “Good,” he replied simply. When he raised his head, he didn’t even look at Lothar. “Let’s get this over with so I can take my wife to our chambers.”

  Justin nodded, and Ingram stepped forward. Chetwynd hadn’t paid attention to the others in the large room, but he became aware that Jerome and Ingram were standing beside another man. Marianna was also there, and she moved to Isabel’s side.

  Ingram spoke quickly, as eager as Chetwynd to be done with the matter. “Marianna spotted this man in the great hall, my lord. I recognized him as the person Marianna pointed out to me earlier at Saint Ives as the leader of the kidnappers. We’ve tried to get him to tell us who hired him to kidnap Lady Isabel, but he pretends not to know what we’re talking about. Both Marianna and I are sure it’s the same man she saw during the kidnapping.”

  There was something familiar about the man, and Chetwynd moved closer to have a better look. Although he had aged, there was still a likeness in the uneven set of his jaw to a young soldier Chetwynd remembered well. It seemed impossible that after all these years he should show up again.

  “Cecil. It’s been a long time. Still in trouble, I see,” Chetwynd said. He was sure he had made the correct identification when Cecil, who had stood defiantly until he was named, lowered his eyes to the floor.

  “You know this man?” Justin asked.

  “Yes. Cecil and I were soldiers together serving Lord Malorvic. I last saw him eight years ago in Narbonne when he attacked an innocent maiden.”

  Moving to stand beside Chetwynd, Isabel peered into the man’s face. She recognized him as the leader of the outlaws, but beyond that she had no memory of him. Although she knew the incident Chetwynd was referring to, it had been a long time ago. “How can you be sure it’s one of the men who attacked me, Chetwynd?”

  Chetwynd grabbed the man’s left arm, and when Cecil tried to pull away, Ingram held him steady. Chetwynd roughly turned over his hand to show Isabel the ugly scar at the base of his thumb. That long-ago day in the meadow was a blur in Isabel’s mind, but she remembered that Emma had told her many times that she had bitten one of her attackers. She saw that the scar was in the shape of a crescent and could have been made by teeth.

  “If you recognize him, do you know who hired him to kidnap your wife?” Lothar asked. When Chetwynd turned toward Lothar, the king took a step back and continued. “It wasn’t me. I never saw the man before.”

  “I doubt if anyone hired him. I’m sure he believes he has sufficient reason of his own for what he did. Isn’t that right, Cecil?”

  “You ruined my life, damn you,” the outlaw muttered. “I lost my position with Malorvic and never got another one. It’s only right that you should pay.”

  “You ruined your own life when you attacked an innocent maiden,” Chetwynd said. “I just saw that you didn’t get away with it.”

  Jerome had been watching the exchange attentively. When Chetwynd’s squire remembered the story Isabel had told him and understood who Cecil was, he swung his fist at the outlaw, knocking him to the floor and following him down before anyone could stop him. It took Justin and Chetwynd working together to pull Jerome off the man. Ingram stood back, grinning his approval at Jerome.

  Isabel had backed away from the struggle, and Chetwynd pulled Jerome over to where she stood. “Jerome, do something useful. Give Isabel your arm for support until we can finish with this matter.”

  After Ingram pulled the kidnapper roughly to his feet, Lothar moved forward to question him. “You had better explain yourself quickly, or I’ll put you in a cell with
Chetwynd’s two men. They don’t seem to be too happy with you.”

  The kidnapper looked from Jerome to Ingram. Then he began talking. “When I kidnapped Chetwynd’s woman, I had no intention of harming her. My plan was to ask for a ransom. Lord Chetwynd ruined my career, Your Majesty. After he got me thrown out of Malorvic’s army, I was reduced to robbing travelers to survive. He deserved to pay.”

  Lothar ignored his rationale. “Why were you in the queen’s party?” he asked. “Were you also working for her when you took Lord Chetwynd’s wife?”

  Puzzled by the question, Cecil shook his head. “Taking Chetwynd’s wife had nothing to do with the queen. I know a serving woman in the queen’s employ. She gives me information from time to time about travelers, and I give her a share of the take.”

  From Lothar’s expression, it was clear he was disappointed to hear the queen wasn’t involved. This fact was not lost on Cecil, who said, “I have some interesting information I can give you about the queen.”

  Lothar looked at the man with distaste. “I don’t have anything to do with men who prey on young maidens. Guards, take him away to the dungeon.”

  “You’ll want to hear what I have to say, Your Majesty,” the man shouted as he was being hustled away.

  Lothar and Chetwynd found themselves standing side by side watching Cecil disappear. There was silence in the chamber, and Chetwynd sensed that everyone was nervously waiting to see what would happen next. Chetwynd turned to face Lothar. “I’m sorry I thought you were involved in the kidnapping of my wife, Your Majesty.”

  The look of surprise on Lothar’s face made the effort it took Chetwynd to apologize worthwhile, and he relaxed.

  “Your concern for your wife is understandable, Lord Chetwynd. She is a remarkable woman. I hope we can forget about our differences and get along better in the future.”