Secret Heart

by Speer, Flora

  “I see no point in running away,” Roarke added. “If you try it, we will only find you and bring you back, so you may as well come with us now.”

  “No!” The woman wrestled free from Roarke’s grip and bolted toward the trees. She shrieked again as Roarke picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder. Then, with Jenia following, he strode toward the firelight. The woman wept and pleaded with him to set her down and let her go. Roarke ignored her. At the edge of the clearing Garit met them with his sword drawn and two sturdy men-at-arms at his back.

  “Jenia, did you scream? What happened? What have you found? Who is that?” Garit added, staring at the flailing arms and legs and the undone light brown hair that cascaded along Roarke’s legs, reaching almost to the ground. “Is she alone?”

  “Yes, as far as I can tell,” Roarke answered.

  “Roarke, for heaven’s sake, put her down,” Jenia cried. “Let her catch her breath so she can talk to us.”

  Roarke reached the center of their encampment before he flipped the woman onto her feet. At a word from Garit the men-at-arms, who had been poised for a fight, relaxed enough to resheathe their swords. Most returned to preparing the evening’s food, though a few remained on guard at the edge of the camp.

  Seeing how the woman swayed, Jenia reached toward her to offer assistance just as Lord Giles approached from the rear to steady her with his hands on her shoulders. The woman got her balance, pushed her hair out of her face, and looked around until her gaze reached Jenia. She gasped in unconcealed terror and stared for a moment or two before her eyes rolled back and she sagged into Lord Giles’ arms.

  “Sanal!” Lord Giles exclaimed.

  “Aunt Sanal?” Jenia cried at the same instant. “What are you doing here?”

  Lady Sanal blinked, stared again, and made a visible effort to pull herself together. Lord Giles continued to support her from behind, for she appeared stupefied.

  “It cannot be you,” she whispered, disbelief filling each word as she looked at Jenia. “You are dead. He told me you were dead.”

  “Oh, really?” said Garit. Planting his fists on his hips, he sent a fierce glare in Sanal’s direction. “By he, I assume you mean Lord Walderon? Are you saying that your husband has admitted to causing Chantal’s death? How much do you know of Walderon’s crimes? Where is he now? Speak, woman!”

  “You are together,” Sanal whispered, as if she hadn’t heard Garit’s impassioned exclamations. She spoke to Jenia, her continued confusion becoming obvious. “I am so glad. But, Chantal, how did you escape? And why were you foolish enough to return here? You should not have come so close to Thury; you should have fled as you planned to do. I know about that. Walderon told me the story while he was berating me for letting you get away. If he finds you now, he will kill you and Garit – and me, too.”

  “Hold on a moment,” Roarke commanded in a loud voice. He raised one hand to silence everyone who was crowding around Sanal. “Too many questions are being asked, and too few answers are being given. Lady Sanal, sit down and drink a cup of wine. No one here will hurt you, or allow anyone else to hurt you. We have enough men with us to keep you safe. Sit down, my lady.”

  He took a single threatening step toward her. Plainly used to obeying a man’s orders, Sanal dropped to the ground, choosing a place close to the fire. She held out shaking hands to the warmth. Lord Giles knelt next to her.

  “Oh, Giles,” Sanal whispered, “thank heaven I found you and Chantal. Or rather, you found me.”

  “You are safe now, my dear lady,” Lord Giles told her, touching her shoulder in a gentle and reassuring way. “Take your time. Drink some wine as Roarke has suggested, and eat a bit of bread and cheese. After you have recovered yourself a little, you may tell us why you were wandering so far from home.”

  “Thury is not my home,” Sanal declared bitterly. “I cannot stay there any longer, not for one more day.”

  “Why is that?” Garit demanded. “What has Walderon done to send you fleeing from him without even a maidservant? That is what happened, isn’t it? Walderon has committed yet another crime and you have run away from him as a result of it.”

  “Please, just give her a moment,” Lord Giles advised. He took the wooden wine cup that one of his squires offered. “Here, Sanal, drink this.”

  Again, Sanal did as she was told. She sipped at the wine, and when another of Lord Giles’s squires brought her a chunk of bread and a wedge of cheese, she ate the food with a solemn concentration that told Jenia it had been a long time since her last meal.

  Seeing her aunt for the first time in more than half a year, Jenia realized how Sanal’s unhappy marriage had etched stern lines of endurance in her face, so she looked much older than her thirty-six years. Still, Jenia felt little pity for her.

  With the alarm over and no clear danger threatening, the rest of the party settled down near the fire to eat a cold meal, though Jenia noticed that Roarke and Garit conferred and then chose a few extra sentries to guard the camp.

  All the while, Lord Giles sat next to Sanal, watching her closely. When Sanal began to shiver, Lord Giles took off his own cloak and laid it around her shoulders. The way in which Sanal handled the cloak and snuggled into its warmth was a revelation to Jenia, as was the shy smile of thanks that Sanal bestowed on Lord Giles. Jenia had never before seen her self-contained aunt smile, or show any sign of either warmth or weakness while another person was near. Yet now, when she looked at Lord Giles, her homely face softened and the lines in it seemed to smooth out until she regained some of her lost youth.

  Jenia thought that Roarke had also noticed the way the older man and her aunt reacted to each other, for he allowed Lord Giles to begin the questioning.

  “Now, then,” Lord Giles said in a kindly way after Sanal had finished her light meal, “tell us why you were wandering in a forest. Where is your horse? What happened to your attendants?”

  “I am on foot,” Sanal told him. “And I am alone. I escaped from Thury the day before yesterday. I could not stay there any longer.”

  “Why not?” Lord Giles asked, holding up one hand to silence Garit who, by the look on his face, was about to burst into a new series of questions. Garit appeared even more frustrated when Sanal did not answer directly, but followed her own line of thought.

  “I was walking to Nozay,” she said to Lord Giles, “to ask you to help me reach a convent or a beguinage where I might be safe.”

  “My dear,” Lord Giles informed her, “you were walking in the wrong direction. Nozay lies a day’s ride south of here. You are near the road that eventually leads to Calean.”

  “Oh, no!” Sanal cried. She clutched at his arm in a desperate motion. “Giles – my lord – I trust you believe me when I say I would never do anything to put you at risk. I know what Walderon will do to you if he so much as suspects I was fleeing to you for aid. But, you see, I didn’t know what else to do, and I dared to hope even Walderon would not dare to storm a holy place of retreat to drag me out of it. Oh, Giles, he is so wicked.”

  “We know that,” Garit growled, not to be forestalled any longer by Lord Giles’s cautioning frown or by the way the older man was shaking his head at him. “We have concluded that Walderon is a murderer.”

  “Yes,” Sanal agreed. She was still clutching at Lord Giles’s arm and he laid a hand over hers as if to offer comfort. “I know Walderon ordered Matilda Jenia’s death. Until I saw Chantal just now, I thought she had been killed, too. The captain of the ship reported to Walderon how Chantal leapt into the sea. Those poor girls.” Sanal covered her face with both hands.

  “I knew it!” Garit exclaimed. “I was right all along!”

  He stood glaring down at Sanal, looking as if he, too, would like to commit murder. His lips were clamped together and his jaw was set in a hard line that told Jenia he was ready to accuse her aunt of complicity in Chantal’s death.

  “Aunt Sanal,” Jenia said, leaning forward so the firelight would illuminate her face, “we ha
ven’t seen each other for a long time, but look closely at me. Even in this light I think you will notice the difference between me and my cousin.”

  Sanal took her hands away from her face and looked hard. A sob escaped her.

  “Matilda Jenia,” she whispered. “Is it you, and not Chantal?”

  “Yes, I am Jenia.” Seeing how puzzled her aunt was, Jenia continued, “On the night she was to meet Garit, Chantal and I exchanged clothes so she could more easily run away with him. We never explained our ruse to the men who abducted us. After we spent months in a dungeon, one of the guards stabbed Chantal to death, thinking she was me. I was the girl taken aboard ship, to be raped and murdered at sea. But I escaped unharmed from the ship, and from the sea.

  “And now,” Jenia said to Sanal, who had paled to the hue of ashes during this recitation, “I want justice for what was done to my cousin and me. I want to know why Uncle Walderon was so determined to see Chantal married to Lord Malin against her wishes, and why he had both of us thrown into a dungeon. I want to know why he kept us there for so long before he gave the order to kill us. Most of all, I want to know what happened to Chantal’s body.”

  “Also,” said Garit, not to be restrained any longer despite Sanal’s gasp of horror at Jenia’s implacable manner, “we demand that you tell us where Walderon is.”

  “Your last request is easy enough to answer,” Sanal said. “Walderon has gone to Calean City, where he expects to be named as the new Lord of Thury.”

  “Not while I am alive,” Garit snarled. “You may as well know our intentions. We plan to haul Walderon before King Henryk for justice. Be warned, Lady Sanal; Henryk is outraged at what was done to two noble ladies, so he is not likely to be merciful. Furthermore, your husband has besmirched the king’s good name by allowing Chantal and Jenia to believe he was responsible for their imprisonment. If you want to escape the same fate as Walderon, you would do well to assist us.”

  Sanal sat very still for a moment, with her head bowed. Then she looked Garit right in the eye.

  “I will gladly tell you whatever you want to know, on the sole condition that you promise to protect me against Walderon’s vengeance,” she said. “Walderon does not take kindly to being thwarted. That is the reason why he ordered Chantal’s abduction, and yours, too, Matilda Jenia.” Sanal turned to look at her niece before she continued.

  “Walderon learned from one of his spies in Calean City about Chantal’s plan to elope with Garit. He knew if he had only Chantal seized and left you free, you would move heaven and earth to find your cousin and, after you did, you would most certainly accuse him of the deed. He couldn’t allow his plans to be thwarted. At that time, Walderon was still determined to marry Chantal off to Lord Malin.”

  “Why?” Garit demanded. “He knew how opposed Chantal was.”

  “Her feelings did not matter to him, or to Malin, either. Women never matter to men like them. Just see how quickly Malin found himself another bride after Chantal disappeared. Poor girl, I pity her.” Sanal paused to draw a shaky breath. “I’m sure you are aware that Malin is very wealthy. He is also known to be peculiar in his most intimate tastes; so peculiar, in fact, that he has few friends in spite of his large estates and the power those great holdings give him. Walderon craves wealth and power, and Malin’s perversions do not disturb him. He plotted to bind Malin more closely to him by the marriage to Chantal.

  “Walderon also wanted to get his hands on a certain piece of land near Lake Nalo that Malin had promised to turn over to him just as soon as the marriage to Chantal was consummated. As for why Walderon wanted that particular land, I do not know. I overhear some things, and I occasionally manage to pry a few details out of my husband, but he rarely offers information. Walderon is not overly fond of me. On the few occasions when I have dared to oppose some plan of his, he beat me.” Sanal sighed.

  “What do you mean, you overhear things?” Jenia asked, her suspicions aroused. She did not entirely trust her aunt, and she was infuriated by what she was learning. The desire for a piece of land, however valuable, seemed to her a paltry excuse for sacrificing a young woman to unnamed perversions, or for imprisonment and murder. Once again, Sanal’s response was not a direct answer.

  “I know about the secret passageways,” she told Jenia. “One day, years ago, I followed you and Chantal.”

  “You never said anything to us,” Jenia cried, momentarily diverted by this new information.

  “Of course not,” Sanal said, shrugging her shoulders as if to dismiss the issue. “I didn’t want anyone to know I could get into or out of those passages, or that I was watching and listening at the peepholes. By then I had been married to Walderon long enough to realize that any information I could gather would give me an advantage over him. On a few occasions I used what little Power I possess to keep him from sensing me while I was in the passageways.”

  “Sanal, I’m sorry I could do nothing to help you,” Lord Giles said. “We all know that a man holds complete control over the lady he marries and interference is frowned upon by the king and his nobles. But I do solemnly promise you now that whatever King Henryk’s judgment on Walderon may be, I will see to it that you never have to return to that villain again, to serve as his wife.”

  “About those passageways,” Roarke said. “How do we enter them? Is there a way into them from outside the castle?”

  “I left the door at the base of the outer castle wall unlatched,” Sanal told him. “When I left, I did not intend to return, but I’ve learned always to provide myself with a second option, and I didn’t know what I would find once I was outside. I doubt if anyone will notice what I’ve done there, but I can open the door again.”

  “Will you show us that door?” Roarke asked.

  “There’s not much point in us sneaking into Thury now, not while Walderon is on his way to Calean,” Garit pointed out. “In fact, he may already be in Calean. If he is, either King Henryk’s men-at-arms, or Lord Oliver and his people, will stop him before ever he approaches the king’s audience chamber.”

  “I don’t think he will have reached Calean yet,” Sanal said. “He won’t be traveling very fast. Walderon is proceeding in the great state which he believes is appropriate to his anticipated position as Lord of Thury. He has more than forty people, household knights, squires, men-at-arms, and servants with him. He even took his minstrels along.”

  “Garit,” Roarke said suddenly, flashing a grin at his friend, “you cannot possibly think I’m going to allow Lord Oliver, of all people, the honor of apprehending that villain? Or that I’ll keep you away from Walderon the way Oliver or the king’s men-at-arms will?”

  “I never thought so for a moment.” Garit’s answering grin was positively wolfish. “What’s your plan? From the sparkle I see in your eyes, I know you have one.”

  “We missed meeting Walderon and his company along the way because we diverted our journey from the main road to visit Auremont. Now we are going to send a man riding at top speed after Walderon to tell him Thury Castle has been captured. I rather imagine the news will bring him back in some haste, no matter where on the road our messenger finds him,” Roarke replied. “Walderon must hold the castle securely before he can be made lord of it.”

  “I do like the way you think,” Garit said. “While our man rides after that wicked villain, we can use the secret passages to get inside and take over Thury. By the time Walderon returns, we will be waiting for him, all warm and snug within the castle walls.”

  “Lady Sanal, how much opposition are we likely to meet once we are inside Thury?” Roarke asked.

  “I think very little,” Sanal responded. “Most of the servants, especially the older ones, who were at Thury when Chantal’s father was alive, don’t like Walderon and would be glad to see him gone. I’m not certain about the men-at-arms. Those who have been with Walderon for years may be loyal to him. But they are the men he chose to ride with him to Calean. I suspect that most of the older men of Thury, whom he le
ft behind, are not entirely devoted to their present lord.”

  “We have our own men-at-arms,” Lord Giles spoke up, “all of whom are completely loyal to us. Perhaps we can convince any doubtful souls inside the castle walls to join us.”

  “If you promise to protect me from Walderon,” Sanal told them, “I will help you. I will show you the secret door.”

  Chapter 17

  “We’ve had a long day of riding,” Roarke said, “and I’ll not send weary men on a dangerous mission that may involve a battle. I suggest we eat and then rest here for several hours before we set forth to Thury. If we approach shortly before dawn, we will have the advantage. The sentries will be nearing the end of the late night watch; they’ll be cold and tired and possibly not paying much attention to duty, especially with Walderon gone. I’m guessing that any secret entrance will be located well away from the main gatehouse, so anyone leaving the castle in an emergency is less likely to be noticed by the guards on the battlements or by a besieging army.”

  “Yes,” Sanal said. “That’s so. I should tell you, Sir Roarke, if Matilda Jenia has not, that all of the land around the castle has been cleared and is kept as a meadow, so as to offer no cover to an approaching enemy. But near the secret door there is a way across the moat. I used it two nights ago.”

  “The stepping stones,” Jenia exclaimed. “Chantal and I used to skip across the moat on them when Uncle Walderon was away and we sneaked out to play in the meadow. We always got our feet wet because the stones are set well beneath the surface of the water, so they are hidden. I remember, Aunt Sanal, how you scolded us several times after we returned with our shoes and our skirts muddy.”

  “I suppose the stones were originally set for the obvious purpose,” Sanal observed. “They are there so anyone using the secret passages to leave the castle would not have to swim the moat. But they aren’t arranged in a straight line; they’re in a staggered pattern. Matilda Jenia, do you remember where each stone is placed?”