Severin ate slowly, feeling the food, as bad as it was, give him needed strength. No sooner had he drained his mug than de Luci yelled, “Bind him again. I trust him not.”
He had no chance, for de Luci had pulled a dagger from his belt and held it to Hastings’s breast. At least he had feeling back in his hands. It would take a while for the tight ropes to numb them again.
He couldn’t stop looking at Hastings. De Luci had lowered the knife, but he was looking at the torn material over her breasts. Once he reached toward her, but withdrew his hand when Marjorie said something to him, something about the child. De Luci laughed. Severin wondered about Gwent and his men. He prayed they would survive, that outlaws wouldn’t find them and kill them. Gwent would realize soon enough who it was who had taken them. There was no one else except de Luci. He would reason quickly enough that de Luci must have survived. Then Gwent would know they were here at Sedgewick. If he was able, he would come.
It darkened in the hall. Candles were lit, but the shadows in the corners were thick and black. It became quickly colder after the sun set. Soon de Luci rose and stretched. He said to Marjorie, “You will attend me tonight for a final time.” He yelled down to Severin, “I know you bedded her when you were but a lad. She is still beyond beautiful. I like her to lie on her back, her hair spread all about her white body. Aye, she pleases me, but not as much as Hastings will.” He leaned down to grab Marjorie and kissed her hard on her mouth. Eloise cried out.
De Luci straightened, his fist held out toward his daughter. “Be quiet, you little halfwit. By Saint George’s toes, you offend me. Go to my chamber, Marjorie, and prepare yourself whilst I speak to my future bride.”
He had changed his mind. Hastings kept her face blank, but it was difficult. He was slippery, so very unpredictable. She knew she wouldn’t bathe or change her gown or brush her hair unless forced to.
Marjorie merely nodded. She and Eloise left the hall. De Luci stared about, looking very pleased with himself. “Aye,” he said, belching, “I will enjoy the first woman you bedded, Severin. Would you like to see me take Marjorie? She swore to me that you hadn’t bedded her at Oxborough. Is that true, I wonder? I can’t imagine a man not taking her if she asked for it.
“No matter. Then I will take your wife. She is not as beautiful as Marjorie, but her possessions make her beyond what any man could wish for. I wonder if she will struggle once I begin caressing her. Most women cease struggling quickly. Will Hastings? We will see.
“Then, my fine lord, I will kill you. It will make a fitting ending to the week.”
He didn’t believe her, Hastings thought, staring at him. He believed he could rape her with impunity. He was mad. She said, “I would speak to my husband.”
De Luci laughed. “I think not, my lady.” To Ibac, he said, “Take him back to the dungeon. He has eaten his fill. Hastings sees that I do not torture or starve him. Now I fancy she knows that I will if she does fight me. Aye, Hastings, I will keep him alive to ensure that you cooperate with me.”
Hastings saw Trist slither inside Severin’s tunic as he slowly rose. She had never been so afraid in her life. It was a suffocating fear that numbed her brain. All she could see was Severin, bound, pushed in front of two soldiers from the hall.
She lay on the narrow bed, smelling the dead air, wishing for just a single window, but there wasn’t one. There were no rushes on the stone floor, which relieved her. They would be as foul as the ones in the hall.
Ibac had left her unbound, but the door was locked, and it was the only way out.
She lightly caressed her belly. There was a slight curve now, and she smiled, despite her numbing fear. Their babe was within and he was growing. She desperately wanted him to live, to know both her and his father.
De Luci had forced her to bathe. He’d said, “If I still need relief after I have taken Marjorie, I will come to you, Hastings. I want you prepared for me.” She was wearing a clean night shift, one that de Luci had taken from Marjorie’s trunk. It only came to the top of her thighs. Her hair was nearly dry now, spread about her head.
When the door rattled, she thought she’d faint. Dear God, de Luci was here. No, it was so very late now. Surely he wouldn’t come, not this late. There was nothing she could use to protect herself. Nothing.
Her only chance was surprise. She forced herself to lie perfectly still on her back, her eyes tightly closed.
She heard the door open slowly, felt the narrow shaft of light slice through the darkness in the small chamber.
Her hands were fists at her sides. She couldn’t seem to swallow. She wanted to scream and hurl herself at him at the same time. No, no, she had to wait, she had to be patient. She had to gain an advantage.
Then, suddenly, his hand came over her mouth. She tried to lurch up but couldn’t move.
Then she heard the most beautiful voice in the world whispering next to her ear, “Hold still, Hastings, and I will get you out of here.”
“Severin?”
“Aye, I’m here. I am your knight. Finally, I am going to rescue you as a knight should a damsel.”
She nodded as she stared up at him. “I love you, Severin. I was so frightened. Aye, you are my knight.”
“Trist would not let me leave you.” He smiled down at her, quickly kissed her, and lifted her from the bed.
He stood by the chamber door as she pulled on her old, dirty clothing. “Can we not kill him whilst we are here?”
He shook his head. “I would like to but I cannot risk you, Hastings. He has three of his men guarding his bedchamber. I cannot risk our babe. Come now.”
Trist poked his head out of Severin’s tunic and batted his paw at her.
“He is in a hurry. He knows since he released me that de Luci will want to kill him as well.”
“That is why Trist left me to go to you.”
“Aye, he chewed through the ropes on my wrists. I have released Alan and his twelve men as well. They will come with us, though it will be difficult. They are sick and weak. Several have died. If they were able, we would fight, but they are not.”
Hastings could not imagine how Severin would get them all free of Sedgewick, but she said nothing. “Be my shadow,” he said over his shoulder.
At least thirty men were sleeping in the hall, wrapped in their blankets, snoring as loudly as the wolfhounds.
Hastings had never before in her life wondered about silence, but now it was all she could think of. They could not make a sound. If one of the soldiers awoke, all would be lost.
When Severin reached the wide double doors, he turned and motioned her to follow him. He led her down a narrow corridor and opened a short, thick door. It led into a small granary. There was another door.
Once they were in the inner bailey, pressed against the side of the keep, deep in the shadows, he whispered, “I learned everything about Sedgewick when I gave it over to Sir Alan. He and his men should be within the stables just beyond. Then we will lead the horses through the postern gate.”
“But the horses—”
“I know. Alan has told all his men to hold their nostrils so they won’t neigh. We need luck in this, Hastings.”
And she thought: I have you, what need I of luck?
But she was soon to change her mind. She heard a man shout.
Severin simply pressed her behind him, whispered for her to stay close. He raced toward the single scream. Just inside the stable door a man was on his knees, Sir Alan over him, a dagger pressed against his neck.
“The fool screamed. I will kill him.” With no more words, the knife went into the man’s throat. He gurgled loudly, then fell onto his side.
“The other stable lads are bound and gagged. Let us go, my lord, and quickly. My lady, I am glad to see you well.”
Hastings followed Severin, her fingers securely fastened against Marella’s nostrils. She kept tossing her head, but Hastings knew that one neigh might do them all in. She didn’t know how she did it, but she kept hold.
Still they walked the horses until Severin raised a hand. “Quietly,” he called out. “Quietly.”
He lifted Hastings onto Marella’s bare back, then swung onto his stallion. The moment the horses’ nostrils were released, three animals neighed loudly.
“Onward!” Severin shouted.
They were away. They rode hard until the horses were lathered and panting. Severin then called a halt. “All of you remain here, rest your mounts.” He nodded to Sir Alan and they rode back along the narrow rutted wagon trail.
Hastings was patting Marella’s neck, speaking softly to her and telling her how brave she was, when Severin pulled his horse beside hers. “No one follows. By now de Luci must know of our escape. But he isn’t a complete fool. He knows that we can reach Oxborough before he can catch up to us.”
He leaned over, kissed her hard, then patted his palm to her cheek. “You have done well, wife,” he said, then kicked his stallion in his heavy sides.
They were safely within Oxborough’s gates before dawn.
It wasn’t until they were in the great hall that they discovered that someone else from Sedgewick had escaped with them.
32
“MY LORD,” LOTHAR SAID, STEPPING FORWARD, “I HAVE something to tell you.”
Severin, tired, hungry, and so weary he wanted to lie down beside Edgar the wolfhound, turned to the large burly soldier who was one of Sir Alan’s trusted men. “Aye, what is it, Lothar?”
“You see that I am very healthy, my lord, my three friends as well. It is not because of chance that this is so. It is because of something entirely different, something that I ask you think about carefully before—”
“Speak, man!”
“Lord Severin, Lothar brought me with him.”
Eloise came from behind one of the other men. She was dressed like a little boy.
“She saved us, my lord. Before Lord Richard came upon us with stealth, the child was friendly to me. When I was thrown into the dungeon, she brought me food. I shared the food with the men close enough to me that I could reach them. We all survived. We are well. Eloise couldn’t feed all the men else de Luci would suspect.”
Hastings walked slowly to Eloise, pulled back the coarse woolen hood. She smoothed the child’s braids. She lightly ran her fingertips over her thin cheeks.
“I do not understand, Eloise. Come drink some milk and eat, then you will tell Lord Severin and me everything.”
Eloise spoke even as she stuffed MacDear’s sweet white bread into her mouth. “He told Marjorie he would kill me if she did not do just as he said. He hurt her as much as he hurt me. She tried to protect me. I thought if I left, then he could not force her.”
Lady Moraine, who was pressed tightly against her son, afraid to let him go to the jakes by himself for fear he would disappear, said, “I will take care of you, Eloise, but you must promise me something.”
The child was chewing more slowly now on a piece of mutton. She nodded.
“You will not treat Hastings badly.”
Eloise bowed her head. When she looked up, Trist was sitting on the trestle table in front of her. He reached out his paw and patted the back of her thin hand.
Eloise burst into tears, sobbing and hiccuping. “I want Marjorie!”
Hastings looked toward Severin, who was chewing a big hunk of yellow sweet cheese. She didn’t like this one bit. Now she had to feel sorry for Marjorie? That damnable witch with the black insides? It was not to be borne. “We have to rescue her?” she said, barely above a whisper.
“I will think about that,” Severin said.
Lady Moraine looked up at Hastings, then drew the child to her. She rocked her against her. Then she pressed her back at arm’s length. “It is difficult, Eloise, for anyone to want to help her. Marjorie tried to poison Hastings.”
“No, no, she did not.” Eloise brushed her hand over her eyes. She drew back her shoulders and took a deep breath. “It was I who put the powder in Hastings’s wine. And it wasn’t poison. It wouldn’t have killed her. I just wanted to punish her for making Marjorie’s nose grow large and red. Marjorie knew but she took the blame for me.”
“I really don’t like this,” Hastings said.
Severin was on his feet. “I don’t either. As I said, I will think about all this. I must go now, Hastings.”
“To find Gwent and our men?”
“Aye, I have prayed myself numb. They have to be alive. They have to be. When we are all together again, then we will make plans.”
She did not demand to accompany him. In truth she was exhausted, the babe making her nearly dizzy with fatigue. “You will be home soon,” she said a short time later when she stood in the outer bailey, waiting for all the men to mount.
“Aye, as quickly as possible. Sir Alan will take care of Oxborough. If Richard de Luci tries treachery, he will not succeed. You will consider Oxborough under siege until I return.”
She nodded, stood on her tiptoes, and wrapped her arms about his neck. “Be careful, Severin.”
He brought her close, his breath warm against her hair. “We will get through this, Hastings. You will see.”
“I know,” she said, and kissed him. “I know,” she said again against his open mouth. She felt a shudder go through him and kissed him yet again.
He stepped back, his breathing quick and hard. He smiled down at her, his eyes dark and vibrant. “I have sent a man to Lord Graelam de Moreton in Cornwall. God knows how long it will take for him to come, or even if he is able to come.”
“He will come. Will you send a messenger to the king?”
Severin shook his head. “No, I don’t wish to take a chance on Edward’s whim. I want Richard de Luci killed before any learn that he is still alive. All will be as we believed it to be before the madman came back from the dead.”
“My lord,” Sir Alan said, striding up to Severin, who was now holding Hastings in the circle of his arms. “Our messengers to your other keeps are well on their way. Men will begin arriving within two days. I doubt we will need Graelam de Moreton.”
“I know,” Severin said, pulling Hastings against him once more, as he could not prevent himself from doing so. “It is just that I promised him. He told me if I did not and he heard that I was ever in grave danger, he would stake me out in the middle of a practice field and ride his warhorse over me.” He kissed Hastings’s nose, then grinned at Alan. “I believe him. I am not a fool.”
Hastings laughed. It felt wonderful to laugh, even for a moment.
“I must go. Take care of our babe and Alan will see to your safety.”
He slammed his fist into Sir Alan’s shoulder, all in good humor, and said something low to him that Hastings could not hear. Sir Alan nodded solemnly. Severin waved yet again to Hastings and strode to his warhorse. Hastings watched him leap gracefully astride.
“God be with you, my lord,” she called. He waved at her and was soon outside the massive Oxborough gates. She ran to the sturdy wooden ladder that led up to the ramparts. She watched him until he was gone from her sight.
When Alice came to her later, Hastings was on her knees beside a man whose belly was so shriveled he could only keep MacDear’s lightest broth down without vomiting. She looked up, her head cocked to one side. Alice looked utterly bewildered.
“I do not believe this, Hastings.”
“What is it?” She was on her feet in an instant. “What has happened?”
“We have a visitor. She has never come here. She has never left her cottage. All know she is a recluse. Yet she is here demanding to see you.”
Hastings turned to see the Healer walk briskly into the great hall. She was wearing shoe
s. Hastings’s own mouth dropped open at the sight of her.
The Healer waved everyone away, said nothing at all to anyone, and quickly knelt down beside a sick man. She continued silent, merely grunted at some of them, shook her head at one man who was already unconscious, and actually pinched another man’s wrist who just happened to grin up at her.
“Where is Alfred?” Hastings asked for want of anything better. She was as bewildered as Alice.
“My beauty is sleeping soundly in the sun. I left him a roasted chicken if he awakes and is hungry.”
“He is always hungry, Healer.”
“Aye, he deserves to be, not like these louts sprawled about in your great hall, Hastings. Well, I’ve done what I can for them. The man yon will die soon. I cannot help him. The others will survive with your care.”
“Healer, how did you know we needed you?”
Hastings stared at the Healer as the woman looked down at her long fingers, twisting the odd gold ring about on her finger, a magic ring perhaps, one older than England itself.
“Healer?”
Her braids flew as she raised her head. “Bedamned to you, Hastings! Where is Gwent? I had prayed he would be here, but he is not. Where is he?”
Gwent? The Healer despised men. All knew it. Gwent?
Hastings noticed for the first time that the Healer did not look quite like the ragged woman that she normally did. No, her gown was a soft yellow, she was wearing leather slippers, her thick, long hair was braided loosely and tied with a yellow ribbon. She looked remarkably young.
“My son has gone to find him and another dozen of our men,” Lady Moraine said.
“He is a man but surely he would not lose himself apurpose.”
“No, he and all the other men were drugged,” Hastings said. “Richard de Luci swore that it would not kill them. But he captured us and we were forced to leave all of them unconscious on the ground. Severin is very worried. We will know by the end of the week.”
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