by Jody Hedlund
Chapter
19
My head pounded continuously. I tried to grab my skull to stop the hammer from banging. But I couldn’t move my hands.
I wrenched to free myself, but hemp bit into my wrists, awakening me to the realization that my hands were bound. With a swift jerk of my legs, I knew my feet were tied just as securely. And a rag cut deep into my mouth, gagging my throat and drying my tongue.
I opened my eyes to blackness but rapidly acclimated myself to the surroundings using my other senses. The brittle straw against my cheek stunk of mildew and rat droppings. Added to the musty chill in the air and the hollow silence, I guessed I was in a dungeon. But how? And where?
My aching head blurred my memories, and I could only stare unseeingly through the dark as panic settled in my chest. I couldn’t remember anything that had happened.
At the echo of voices and the approach of torchlight, I closed my eyes and held myself absolutely still.
Footsteps halted nearby. “He’s not awake, my lord.” A man spoke without a trace of emotion.
“Then awaken him,” came another more distinguished voice. “I cannot wait any longer. Lord Pitt will be here with his forces within the day.”
Pitt arriving with his forces? Was he coming after me?
“I can try to awaken Sir Aldric,” said a woman.
My heart thudded. Olivia. What was she doing here? A haze of memories swirled through my aching head. We’d been on the boar hunt, but then we’d separated from the rest of the group because I’d wanted to shield Olivia. We’d argued. She’d jumped from the horse. And I’d run after her.
What then?
I scrambled into the far chambers of my mind to find the answer but came upon only darkness.
At the clanking of a key in the cell door, I quickly finished making sense of my predicament. It would appear I’d been injured and captured but Olivia was safe. And if she was safe, that meant my captor was either her father or one of his allies. Pitt had apparently learned of my imprisonment and was amassing forces to come after me and attack our enemy.
The door hinges creaked and boots shuffled in the hay near my face. One of those boots shoved roughly at my torso in an effort to roll me over. Still I kept my eyes closed and feigned unconsciousness.
“Let me try,” Olivia insisted.
“Stand back.” The firm voice echoed against the stone walls. “Let Eldridge do his job.”
Before I could brace myself, the boot rammed against my stomach with a force that would have doubled me over if I’d been standing.
“No!” Olivia cried out.
At a scuffling and the clank of metal, I opened my eyes to see that Olivia had lunged at the guard who’d kicked me. She’d swung her sword, but the man called Eldridge apparently had quick enough reflexes to meet her blow. And now they stood metal to metal.
From my dazed, slightly dizzy position on the floor, I studied the outline of the guard. With his thick arms and husky build, I could tell he’d soon overpower Olivia.
A frantic need to protect Olivia at all costs surged with a fresh burst of energy. Even though my head was heavy with pain, I swung my legs around, connecting with the back of Eldridge’s knees. At the force of my blow, he buckled and fell, freeing Olivia from the dangerous situation.
She jumped in front of me and positioned herself with feet spread and sword at the ready. “Do not hurt him again,” she said in a menacing tone.
Eldridge rose from the ground slowly. I was afraid he might rush at her. But he didn’t move. Instead he looked toward the older man.
One glance was all I needed to comprehend that the distinguished nobleman was Olivia’s father. I’d seen him from a distance once before. Even if I hadn’t, the family resemblance was evident, especially the red hair and regal features. He regarded Olivia with narrowed eyes and a calculation that sent a warning clanging through me.
The Earl of Ulster was a schemer. Although he wouldn’t allow his man to hurt Olivia—at least not seriously—he would find a way to make her suffer if she didn’t do his bidding.
I wanted to caution her, but my tongue was too dry to work past the gag in my mouth.
“I told you I shall ask Sir Aldric about the chalice,” she said evenly. “There is no need to harm him for the information.”
The Holy Chalice? Was that why the earl had captured me? So he could force me to give him the chalice? Ever since Olivia’s revelation regarding her father’s desire for the chalice, I’d suspected the earl wanted the chalice for more than just his son. If he gained possession of the relic and started rumors regarding its power, he’d be able to easily sway the masses of poor to his side with promises of healing. Such a following would aid his rebellion against the king.
“You are protecting him,” the earl responded.
“He is a good man.”
“He’s our enemy.”
She lifted her chin in defiance. Though I appreciated her defense and kind words, I feared she was only making matters worse for herself. “Let Sir Aldric tell me what he knows about the chalice, and then we shall set him free and thus avoid the confrontation with Lord Pitt.”
“You know as well as I do that we cannot free him.” The earl nodded at Eldridge in a move of unspoken communication.
“Then you would start a war?” she asked, eyeing Eldridge who had begun to circle around her. She was alert and slowly pivoted with him.
The earl shrugged. “The war is inevitable. Lord Pitt knows I’ll not bow my knee to his demands.”
I surveyed the cell in an attempt to gain an advantage, some way that I might aid Olivia in her fight against Eldridge. If only I wasn’t bound so securely, I might be of more use to her.
“If you start a war with Lord Pitt,” Olivia responded, “then you will endanger Isabelle.”
“Lord Pitt might keep her captive, but he will not harm her.”
Eldridge crept closer to Olivia, his sword pointed at her again. He wouldn’t hurt her, I reminded myself. Even so, my blood pulsed hard with the need to free myself, and I struggled against my binding.
Olivia circled behind me to keep Eldridge in her line of vision. Too late, I realized the earl’s plan to attack me as soon as Olivia’s back was turned. As his blade sliced into the unprotected area of my thigh, I couldn’t hold back the grunt of pain. It slipped out through my gag and took Olivia’s attention off Eldridge as she glanced over her shoulder at me.
At the sight of her father’s sword in my leg and the blood starting to dampen my hose, she pivoted. But before she could bring her sword around and fight her father away, Eldridge grabbed her arm from behind and twisted it hard, forcing her to drop her weapon.
She screamed and fell to her knees.
At the agony in her voice, anger swelled with such force that I began to thrash against my bindings. The tip of the earl’s sword dug deeper. A silent admonition cautioned me to lie still or he would cut me so deep I would risk bleeding to death. Then I would be of no help to Olivia.
I forced myself not to move, gritting my teeth against the wretched sting.
“Do not disobey me, Olivia,” the earl said in a low tone, “or think of thwarting my plans.”
“Allow him to go free, and I shall cooperate in whatever way you command of me.”
The earl quickly jabbed his sword into my other thigh. The sharp edge sliced into my flesh enough that it caused me to jerk with burning pain, even as I held in the involuntary grunt. I realized exactly what the earl was doing. He was more astute than I’d allowed. He’d surmised the situation all too quickly and realized he could control Olivia by hurting me.
“Stop!” she called out, her eyes widening at the fresh blood seeping from the new wound into my garments. “Father, please. Let him go.” Her voice was panicked, and her beautiful eyes pleaded with her father.
The earl held his sword above my leg, poised and ready to slice again. The blade was crimson with my blood. He stared at Olivia, as though weighing her suggestion,
yet I knew better than to hope he would have mercy. He was too conniving for that. He was also too wise to kill me quite yet. As long as I knew the location to the chalice, I would be of use to him.
“You fancy yourself enamored with Lord Pitt’s commander.” He finally spoke in a deceptively calm voice.
“I have told you. He is a good man.”
Whatever had happened between us over the past month was real and strong and alive. Neither of us could deny our growing feelings for each other. But she would be safer to hide the truth from her father and pretend she cared nothing for me.
“Then if I had not freed you when I did, you would have carried through with Pitt’s plans to marry you off to this man?”
“I had to wed him or face the hangman’s noose.” Her chin lifted again in that defiant way she had about her. Eldridge hadn’t released Olivia, but he held her arm behind her back so that if she moved too much she would find herself in excruciating pain again.
“I know you well enough, daughter. You could have figured out a way to free yourself if you’d wanted it.” Her father’s voice contained accusation.
“Perhaps I decided Sir Aldric would make a more honorable husband than Lionel Lacy.”
“Honorable.” The earl sneered the word. “And what of loyalty to your family? You would fight for this man rather than your family.”
“I would not see an innocent man killed,” she retorted.
Her father wiped my blood from his blade and sheathed his sword. He spun and left the cell. When he was in the passageway, he paused. “Be assured, Olivia. I have condemned this man to die. How slowly and painfully will depend upon your cooperation and his.”
With that, the earl turned to leave.
Olivia acted with decisive and expert speed. In a move that surprised me as much as Eldridge, she slipped out of his hold, flipped him onto his back, and thrust a dagger against his throat. I tried to reach for the sword inches from my bound hands, but I couldn’t make my fingers work. Before I could figure out another way to help Olivia, Eldridge had bucked her, rolled her over, and had her hands pinned to the ground.
She released a frustrated cry that contained her pain at the pressure Eldridge had placed against the tender spot in her wrists.
The earl stopped and looked back at Olivia with something like contempt in his eyes. “Lock her up,” he called over his shoulder to Eldridge as he started on his way. “She’ll submit eventually.”
Eldridge rose, tossed Olivia over his shoulder, and strode from my cell, taking all the weapons and locking the door. Olivia screamed, kicked, and punched. But the stocky soldier didn’t waver in his mission. He carried her to the cell across from mine, dropped Olivia to the hay strewn ground, and then stood with one boot against her diaphragm. “Take out your pins.”
“No!” She spat at his outstretched hand.
He responded by pressing his heel into her ribs so that she screamed—this time in pain.
“Your pins.” Eldridge held his hand steady.
With shaking fingers, she began to tug the pins from her hair and place them into his palm. When she finished, he didn’t remove his boot but instead dug it back in. She cried out again and writhed on the floor in agony.
Everything in me burned with the need to slay Eldridge. Yet I was helpless to do anything but watch her suffer, the same way her father had forced her to watch my torment. If only I could take her place . . .
I’d do anything for her, even die for her if I had to. The realization pummeled me.
Pitt was right. I loved Olivia. I couldn’t deny it any longer. And just as I’d failed to protect Giselle, I was failing to protect Olivia. If I’d stayed within the confines of the hunting party, perhaps we wouldn’t have fallen into the earl’s hands. At the very least, if the earl had decided to ambush, I would have had the assistance of my men to protect Olivia.
As it was, I’d put us in a place where we were vulnerable and open to attack. Instead of helping Olivia, my fears had only made matters worse. I thought I was protecting her, but ended up hurting her.
Was that what happened with Giselle too? I let my fears dictate her activities and boundaries. I believed I was doing my duty as her husband in shielding her. Instead I’d confined her too much until she resented me and ran away.
I swallowed my self-loathing. Apparently, I was no different than before. The moment fear ensnared me, I resorted to my old habits. I’d tried to confine Olivia, to restrict her activities in order to keep her safe. But Olivia, unlike Giselle, wouldn’t retreat and let me hedge her in. Olivia would fight back, like she had today.
Maybe that’s what I needed, a woman who would challenge me, who wouldn’t be afraid to tell me the truth when I needed to hear it, and who would sharpen me into a better man. Wasn’t that what Pitt said, that I needed a strong woman who I wouldn’t intimidate or crush? Was Olivia that woman?
“Give me the rest of the pins, my lady,” Eldridge said. “I can’t have you picking the lock.”
“That is all.”
He added pressure against her chest, and I feared he would begin snapping her ribs one at a time. I tried to call out, to draw his attention back to me, but Olivia’s scream drowned out my noise.
Eldridge reached down and carefully removed three more pins from her hair before he straightened and exited the cell. He closed the barred door, locked it, and stalked away.
Only after his footsteps were gone did I realize he’d left the wall sconce burning. Dread settled in my stomach because I knew the burning light meant only one thing. He’d be back soon. And when he returned, he’d torture one of us.
I just prayed he’d hurt me and not Olivia.
Chapter
20
I shuddered uncontrollably. With contempt, fear, and anguish. Most of all, I shook because I’d failed Aldric. I’d tried so hard to find a way to save him. I’d hoped by preventing Father and Eldridge from murdering him and by bringing him here to Wigmore, that I’d find a way to secure his release, perhaps even sneak him out of the castle.
But everything had gone horribly wrong.
Hot tears still coursed down my cheeks, tears I hadn’t been able to stanch no matter how hard I’d tried, especially as Eldridge had grown more brutal and Aldric hadn’t been able to suppress his anguished groans.
With each slap of Eldridge’s whip across Aldric’s bare back, I’d wanted to beg Aldric to tell Eldridge the location of the Holy Chalice. But Aldric hadn’t spoken a word. He knew as well as I did, that the only thing keeping him alive was his knowledge regarding the chalice. Once he disclosed the whereabouts, his life would no longer hold any value to my father.
Finally, Eldridge had wearied and cut Aldric’s hands free from the hook on the wall. Aldric had fallen into the hay a quivering and bloody mass. And he hadn’t moved since.
I prayed he was unconscious so he’d have blessed relief from his pain. Although I wished I could see him, Eldridge had taken the torch, leaving us in utter darkness.
If I’d loathed my time in Lord Pitt’s dungeons, this was ten times worse. I could do nothing to stop Eldridge from torturing Aldric. I knew it was only a matter of time before Eldridge came back. Next time he’d probably torture Aldric more painfully—perhaps bringing the thumbscrews or foot roaster.
Eldridge was experienced enough to realize when he needed to stop and give his prisoners a break so he didn’t kill them too soon. He was also patient and would keep working until he extracted the information he wanted.
At a soft moan from Aldric’s direction, I scrambled to the bars that separated our cells. “Aldric,” I whispered, fresh trails of tears streaking my cheeks. “I never meant for this to happen.”
From the scraping of hay, I guessed he was attempting to sit up. “Don’t blame yourself, Olivia,” he said in a hoarse whisper.
“If I had stayed on your horse instead of getting down . . .”
“If I had stayed with my men instead of leaving . . .”
We were bo
th silent, letting our regrets settle around us as cold and musty as the air.
“I am overly stubborn and need to listen to reason,” I finally said.
“And I am overly protective and need to stop letting fear run its course.”
“No, Aldric—”
“I let my fears drive Giselle away,” he stated softly.
My protests fell away. If he was ready to share this part of his life with me, I wanted to let him.
“Our families were allies,” he continued. “Giselle and I were friends while growing up. She was delicate and lovely, and I thought I could make her love me the same way I did her.”
At the thought of Aldric loving Giselle, of talking and laughing with her, of wooing her the way he had me, my heart pinched with jealousy. It was irrational and petty, nonetheless I could not prevent it.
“She tried to love me,” he said. “She wanted to. But her feelings never matched mine. The more I tried to make her love me, the more she pulled away. My mother warned me to be patient, but I refused to listen. I thought if we only spent larger amounts of time together, if I tried harder to win her, she’d come to love me.”
“You are difficult to resist,” I said, hoping to ease his inner turmoil. “Your charm knows no bounds, especially when you nearly kill, capture, and chain a woman to your personage.”
“Yes, that kind of charm is very difficult to resist,” he said wryly.
“You are even more appealing when you strike a bargain with your master and give your prisoner one week to wed you or face a hangman’s noose.”
“I’m quite the charmer, am I not?”
“Quite.”
Silence settled again. My thoughts filled with Giselle. If I’d been in her position, I would have worked harder to love Aldric in return, not pulled away from him. Even if he’d been overprotective, like he had with me on the boar hunt, he’d meant well and surely would have learned to let go a little at a time.
“We will all make mistakes,” I said choosing my words carefully. “Some people ignore their mistakes, too proud and unwilling to accept their faults. Others let their mistakes rule over them with an iron fist, becoming a slave to the past. And still others allow their mistakes to push them to change, letting the past strengthen their choices for the future.”
