A Loyal Heart

by Jody Hedlund

  Without speaking, Cecil dragged my chain mail hauberk over my head. I asked no questions and set to the task of attiring my armor as rapidly as possible. He’d apparently transported it from Ludlow where I’d left it after my fight with Aldric. Like my sword, Cecil had carefully crafted my armor so it not only fit me well but was light enough that it didn’t encumber my movements.

  When I was finally covered from head to toe, he slid both my sword and dagger into the sheaths at my belt and then draped a long black cloak over me. Only then did he speak. “Stay to the shadows and meet me at the south wall.”

  As I began to make sense of his plan, I mentally plotted a route through the inner bailey and kitchen gardens that would take me to the meeting place. The inner and outer walls converged at the south, forming a single wall. That particular area was impenetrable from the outside because it was built into a steep cliff that ended in a thick woodland. During their rounds, Father’s guards normally didn’t bother to check the south wall. They would likely be more alert tonight. Still, it was the safest area for me to remain undetected.

  Cecil crawled out the open stable window as silently as a cat hunting for mice. I gave him a minute to disappear into the shadows before I hefted myself upon the window ledge and attempted to be as silent as he’d been.

  As soon as I began to wind my way through the castle grounds, I realized the hour was not as late as I’d expected. Although the light in my brother’s window showed him to be abed, other lights still glowed in the keep and within the soldiers’ barracks.

  Cecil had chosen the perfect time for an escape. Most of the knights would be preparing for sleep. Those on watch wouldn’t expect any activity from within or without the castle, and few would be outside to see us slithering along the buildings and darting from object to object.

  Nevertheless, when I finally reached the south wall, my nerves were stretched as taut as the reins of a runaway steed. I hid in the shadows of the turret stairwell until I caught movement on the first landing. Cecil was motioning to follow him up.

  Although my armor clinked with my movement, the cloak Cecil had wrapped around me minimized the sound as well as the glint of metal. When we reached the second story landing, Cecil stopped at the window that overlooked the wall and the cliff below.

  “Here,” he whispered. “This is where I’ll lower you.”

  The window was narrow, and Aldric wouldn’t have been able to pass through it. But I was slender enough, even with my armor, to squeeze outside.

  I took off the cloak. Then Cecil harnessed me with one end of a rope before winding and knotting the other through the arrow loop and back around through the window.

  “I’ll control the rope,” he whispered. “You rappel.”

  I hadn’t rappelled much during my training, but Cecil had occasionally had me practice on one of the towers at Ludlow, instructing me on the technique of climbing down a rope while I kept my legs perpendicular to the wall and walked backwards to the bottom.

  “Go now.” He hefted me into the window. “The guard will be back in a quarter of an hour.”

  I had so little time. As I slipped outside and positioned myself, anxiety pumped through my blood. I held the rope tight and began my backward crawl. Although I wanted to stop and thank Cecil, I didn’t. He wouldn’t want me to waste critical time on sentimentalities. Instead, I concentrated on rappelling as quickly as I could while maintaining my balance. His harness held tight, but the rope burned even through my gauntlet gloves.

  Soon enough I left the smooth stone of the castle wall and reached the rocky edge of the cliff. By the light of the moon and stars, I maneuvered through the sharp protruding rocks and brush. As I neared the tree line, I breathed out my relief. If a guard walked past on the wall, I would be hidden from view and safe from any arrows he might shoot. Still, I wouldn’t feel completely safe until my feet were on the ground, and Cecil had pulled up the rope.

  As the thick brush and evergreens worked to hide me, they also took away the faint light that had guided my descent. Before I could find sure footing, I felt the rope catch and then tangle in an outcropping of vines. I struggled for a moment, but realized I couldn’t take any more time to free the rope.

  I could finish my descent with it tangled, but then Cecil wouldn’t be able to pull the rope back up to hide my escape. Not only would the presence of the rope on the wall put his life in danger, but it would ruin the secretiveness of the mission, for surely my father would deduce that someone had left Wigmore to warn Lord Pitt of the treachery.

  I wrenched for another moment, hoping to pull the rope free, but it held fast. In the darkness of the woodland, I glanced down but couldn’t see the ground to gauge how much further I had to go or if the landing was safe. Nevertheless, I knew what I had to do. I needed to cut the rope above the tangle and then drop the rest of the way.

  I pulled myself back up, climbing hand over hand. I grunted with the effort, and sweat beaded on my forehead underneath my helmet. Thankfully, I didn’t have to go far before I found the tangle. I unsheathed my dagger and sawed through the rope.

  As the last of the hemp strained to hold my weight, I braced myself for the fall and prayed I wouldn’t kill myself in the landing. With a deep breath, I pressed the blade. The rope snapped and sprang upward at the same moment I began my fall.

  I attempted to crouch so I would land on my feet and take some of the impact away from the rest of my body. But the ground came too swiftly. I slammed to my back, my head bounced, and my helmet cracked against something hard.

  Pain ripped through my body, and then complete darkness took hold and carried me away.

  I awoke with a start and sat up only to groan and fall back. I blinked and peered through the branches of the evergreens above me, thankfully shielding me from anyone who might have peered out the south wall tower into the forestland below.

  A gentle breeze eased over me, bringing with it the heavy scent of pine and earth. Through the lightly swaying branches overhead, I glimpsed a cloudless blue sky.

  For a moment, the silence of the forest and the rustle of the trees brought a sense of peace that made me want to close my eyes and go back to sleep. As my lashes fell, I caught a glimpse of a ray of sunlight breaking through the thick branches.

  Sunlight.

  My nighttime escape came rushing back, and this time I sat up in a panic. I strained to see past the thick green canopy to the cliff and castle wall far above. The rope was gone. I prayed that meant Cecil had been able to pull it up in time to make his escape.

  How long had I been unconscious? What time in the morning was it?

  Fighting against the pain ricocheting through my head, I pushed myself to my knees. Nausea rose swiftly and my vision blurred. Underneath my helmet at the back of my head, a warm trail of blood told me I’d sustained a head injury during my fall.

  As I forced myself to my feet, I assessed the rest of my body. My left lower arm burned, my hip and thigh were bruised, I’d lost one of my gloves, and my palm was raw from rope burn.

  I’d taken serious blows and noted that my head had banged against a log which had likely caused my head injury. But I was alive. If not for my armor, I probably wouldn’t have survived the fall.

  As it was, the nausea and dizziness swelled. I removed my helmet just in time and retched into the brush. I didn’t have time to be sick and dizzy. I had to make my way to Lord Pitt’s encampment and warn him to be ready for my father’s probable treachery.

  What if I was already too late? What if Lord Pitt had left with a contingency of his men to negotiate? What if even now Isabelle was in the fray of battle and Aldric had been dragged back behind the castle walls where Father could continue to torture him?

  A sudden urgency propelled me forward.

  Please, God, I prayed, I want to do the right thing this time. I am pledging a loyal heart to You first, to living with honor and integrity, rather than living to please men.

  No matter the cost. No matter the outco
me. I was shifting my loyalty.

  Hunched and dizzy, I tried to get my bearings. And I forced my legs to carry me in the direction I hoped would lead me to Lord Pitt. Desperately, I prayed I hadn’t missed the chance to warn him.

  I fought back the pain in my head and arm as I staggered along and stayed under cover of the forest until eventually I made sense of my location. Finally I circled wide so I would be able to approach Lord Pitt from behind and avoid detection from any of Father’s guards who might be surveying the landscape from the castle walls or out on patrol in the surrounding area.

  When the forestland gave way to open field, I spotted Lord Pitt’s encampment. I dropped to my belly and began to crawl, shielding my body as best I could behind shrubs. As I drew nearer, I didn’t detect any sounds of battle or fighting. Ahead, I glimpsed some of the knights beginning to mount their horses.

  Did that mean I was in time to warn Lord Pitt?

  I started to rise, but at the prick of a blade against the exposed back part of my thigh, I froze and hoped my captor was one of Lord Pitt’s knights and not Father’s.

  “If you want to keep your leg, then rise slowly and don’t make a sound.”

  Chapter

  22

  I sat upon my steed and watched the iron gate rise. It clanked with an ominous rhythm. For a fleeting second, I considered urging my horse into a gallop the instant we could slide under the gate. But with my hands shackled, I wouldn’t be able to go far, especially since I was surrounded by a contingency of the earl’s knights. With my cuts, bruises, and the broken ribs stabbing me with every breath I took, I wouldn’t be able to fight at my optimum and would be easy prey for recapture.

  A short while ago, several guards and Cecil had come to the dungeons for me. When he’d approached Olivia’s cell, I’d made an excuse that she was asleep and not to bother her. He’d watched the darkened corner for a moment as if testing my words.

  Then he’d crossed to my cell and tossed me clean garments. Although I was certain he’d helped orchestrate Olivia’s escape, I wasn’t confident that he was truly a friend and not a foe. After all, his cudgel had knocked me unconscious and made me the earl’s prisoner.

  He’d instructed me to get dressed, then allowed the guards to gag and chain me before escorting me to the inner bailey. Now the bright morning light stung my eyes. Cecil had mounted a horse, too, and rode at the rear of the band of knights. The earl, outfitted in his battle armor, was at the forefront, and Eldridge was next to him.

  More mounted knights, along with foot soldiers, waited silently in the shadows of the walls, far enough away from the gate that any outsiders looking in wouldn’t be able to detect them. Archers, with bows at the ready, crouched upon the parapets above.

  My suspicions had been correct. The earl had no intention of conducting a peaceful transfer of prisoners. He planned to attack Pitt and his men at the moment they would least expect it.

  Of course Pitt would be wary and prepared for anything. He was too seasoned a warrior to trust a man like the Earl of Ulster. Nevertheless, Pitt would be at a disadvantage against the flying arrows and the onslaught of the earl’s waiting army. The earl would be able to weaken and scatter Pitt’s smaller army, killing many before Pitt could regroup and counterattack.

  During my lucid moments throughout the night, I’d been able to think of little else but Olivia. I could only pray she made it out of the castle and crossed over to Pitt’s camp to warn him without anyone detecting her.

  Every part of me had resisted the idea of her undertaking such a dangerous mission. I’d wanted to demand that she stay in her cell where she would be safe. If she submitted to her father and did what he wanted, he wouldn’t hurt her. The earl might be calculating and selfish, and he might allow Eldridge to use some physical pressure to bring Olivia under his control, but he’d never torture her. He cared about her in his own way and needed her for the union with the Marquess of Clearwater’s son.

  Yes, Olivia would have been safe if she stayed in the dungeons until the skirmish with Pitt’s men was over. And yes, I’d wanted more than anything to keep her locked away. But I’d forced myself to let her go.

  I wasn’t sure I’d made the right decision and agonized over it. But I suspected I wouldn’t have been able to stop Olivia even if I’d tried. Was this part of the process of learning from my past mistakes?

  My fear had caged Giselle—maybe not in a dungeon, but I’d imprisoned her nonetheless. I couldn’t do the same with Olivia. In spite of the danger and my overwhelming fear, I had to set her free, even if she sustained harm in the process.

  My horse snorted and shied sideways as if it sensed the tension radiating in the air around us. I grabbed onto the pommel, my shackles clattering and impeding my movement. As the earl urged his mount through the gatehouse, I was left with little choice but to follow.

  The morning air was already warm, and the whirring of meadow grasshoppers provided a gentle greeting. The sound would soon be drowned by the harshness of battle.

  As we rode away from the cool shadows of the fortress walls and into the bright sunlight, I was once again blinded. I squinted to make out Pitt’s approaching contingency and attempted to count the number of men.

  From what I could see, he’d brought less than a dozen knights with him, and Isabelle rode a short distance back. That could only mean one thing. Olivia hadn’t reached him to warn of her father’s deception.

  My pulse thundered with an onslaught of sudden panic. What had happened to her? I cursed myself for allowing her to go so easily. What if she’d been hurt during her escape? What if one of her father’s men had injured her, believing she was the enemy?

  I tried to take a deep breath, telling myself I’d done the right thing. But I couldn’t manage to draw air into my lungs.

  I needed to shout to Pitt and tell him to stay back. At the very least, I needed to wave my hands at him to retreat. But even if I hadn’t been bound and gagged, I was still too far away to make him understand he was riding into a trap.

  The earl’s knights around me kept a tight formation, likely instructed to usher me back into the castle as soon as the fighting started. If only I could find a way to break free of them.

  The jostling of the horse, even at a slow pace, sent pain shooting through my body reminding me of my limitations. I was probably the weakest man on the field, and that galled me since I was accustomed to being the strongest and smartest of warriors.

  When the earl was within two dozen paces of Pitt, he reined his horse. The knights around me stopped, hedging me in.

  I noticed that Isabelle halted a fair distance away as well. She wore a long veil over her head, and the lacey material hung in front of her face. I didn’t understand why her shoulders were slumped and head bent. Was she sad or discouraged? I would have expected her to be relieved she was finally going home. Unless she was aware of Olivia’s fate and saddened by it.

  Fresh dread hammered through me.

  Sir Darien rode on one side of Isabelle. And another knight, one I didn’t recognize, rode on the other. Something in the knight’s bearing seemed familiar. He was tall and broad-shouldered, but behind his helmet and armor, I couldn’t place him.

  As Pitt and the Earl of Ulster faced off, they stared at each other, neither speaking. Finally, Pitt urged his horse out in front of his men. With his body rigid and his hand upon the hilt of his sword, he held out a scroll of parchment. “Before we begin the exchange of prisoners, the king demands that you cease all communication and dealings with Lord Clearwater and other Marcher barons. He would have you sign your allegiance to him and him alone.”

  The earl made no move forward to take the parchment. “You may tell the king I am already loyal.”

  “Then you will sign this as an offer of your knights and wealth in service to the crown.”

  The earl hesitated again. “Very well.” His voice was hard. As he started toward Pitt, I realized his plan. He would feign interest in signing the parchment but t
hen drive his sword into Pitt as a signal to start the battle.

  I tensed. Then I yelled a warning. The gag muted my voice, but enough sound came out that Pitt glanced in my direction. Before I could communicate further, one of the knights next to me slapped the back of his gloved hand across my face.

  The pressure split my lip and would have sent me toppling from my horse if I hadn’t been hanging onto the pommel. I tried to yell another warning, but the tip of the knight’s sword against my throat silenced me so that I had to watch with mounting tension as the earl closed the distance between himself and Pitt.

  Pitt extended the scroll. The earl reached for it, but instead of grabbing the parchment, he thrust upward toward Pitt’s throat, exposing a long knife he’d hidden somewhere in his armor.

  At the thrust, shouts erupted around me and from the castle wall. The snap and whiz of arrows rent the air. The earl’s men surged forward to attack. Several of the knights who’d been assigned to guard me, including the one with the blade at my throat, began to maneuver my horse around.

  In that moment of defeat, I was surprised Pitt was still atop his steed. I strained to see him over my shoulder only to realize that as the earl had raised his knife, Pitt had apparently anticipated the attack and plunged his own hidden knife into the earl’s open vulnerable armpit.

  At the same time, an arrow came from well behind Pitt and hit directly into the open spot of the earl’s helmet near his collarbone. Several more arrows flew with stunning accuracy, hitting the knights around me, including the one with the sword.

  I didn’t wait to discover what was happening or who was shooting the arrows. Instead, I used the few seconds to swing my horse around and make my escape. I had no armor and my back was exposed, but I had to take a chance.

  The rumbling of horses behind me told me the earl’s waiting army was making its advance. But ahead, Pitt’s men were also riding forward, clearly prepared for battle. In fact, from what I could surmise, Pitt had strengthened his forces—he had more than just our men fighting with him.