by DAVID B. COE
“Brice was beaten,” he said.
Godfrey nodded. “They came for him soon after you left.”
“I heard him. I wondered who it was. How is he?”
“A mess, like the rest of us. But he’s alive, and he’s sleeping.” He gestured. “Go on, brother. Tell us where you’ve been.”
“I followed the corridor that Gawain and I found,” Landry said. “And I discovered much along the way.” He stared at the stairway, determined that Redman would not surprise him as he recounted his journey through the passageways, and he told them what he had seen and done, sparing no detail. The weapons, armor, and clothes, the other prisoners, the gate to outside – he described it all. As he spoke, he began to piece together a plan of escape.
One of the torches near his door sputtered. At the same time, he thought he heard a boot grate on one of the high steps.
“Enough,” he whispered. “They’re here.”
The other Templars moved away from their doors. He and Draper did the same. Landry’s blanket still held bundles of straw in a form that loosely mimicked his own sleeping form. He unbundled his blanket, spread the straw beneath him, and lay down on his pallet just as the pirates’ footsteps reached the floor of the chamber.
Seconds later, a fist pounded on an iron door.
“Up, Templars. Now!” Redman said.
Landry took his time responding to the summons.
“I said up!”
He gathered that the others had done the same.
“What do you want with us?” Godfrey asked.
Landry joined Draper at their door.
“I have word from other prisoners that one of you was roaming the tunnels.”
Godfrey laughed. “Yes, we all went for a stroll. That’s all right, isn’t it?”
“Shut your mouth!”
“No, I don’t believe I will. How exactly are we supposed to have freed ourselves from these cells and gone on our little jaunt? And while we’re asking questions, what prisoners? Who else do you have here, and where are they?”
It was well done. Landry himself would have been convinced.
Redman scrutinized each of their faces, his brow furrowed, as if he believed he could read their intent merely from their expressions. Landry thought he looked like a man with more questions than information. He hoped this meant the other prisoners hadn’t told him much.
“You don’t need to know about the others. Stand back from your doors. I intend to search each of you, and your cells.” He motioned the pirates he had brought with him toward the doors. “Start with them,” he said, indicating Landry and Draper’s cell.
Redman’s men drew their swords. One of them produced a key.
“Take off your clothes,” Redman said. “Everything. You’ll not hide anything from me.”
Landry resisted the impulse to look Draper’s way, wondering what the man had done with his iron spike. With the pirates watching them, swords at the ready, they stepped out of their breeches and undergarments, and stood naked before the Monk. Under any other circumstance, it would have been humiliating. But Landry knew much that Redman didn’t and he stood before the pirate with his chin lifted, without clothes, but cloaked in his surety that at last he and the Templars had the advantage.
Redman looked them over and turned their clothing inside out. He searched the cell exhaustively, picking through the straw pallets and checking every corner. When he had done all of this he planted himself in front of Landry.
“One of the other prisoners described the man who spoke to them.”
“Did they give a name?”
Redman’s expression soured. “The one who would tell us anything about him couldn’t remember. But apparently, he resembled you. Same hair, same beard, same height.”
“He must have been quite handsome,” Landry said, schooling his features.
Redman grinned.
Landry wasn’t fooled. He braced himself for what he knew would come next.
Redman struck him across the face with the back of his hand and then hammered a punch to Landry’s midsection. Landry doubled over. A blow to the back of his neck knocked him to the floor.
“This is not amusing,” Redman said.
Landry pushed himself up, grimacing at the pain in his battered hand. “What do you want me to say? We are trapped in these cells, without weapons or tools or any means of escape. And you come here accusing us of wandering the tunnels, when the first thing we would do if we managed to break free is flee this place. You are making no sense, pirate.”
He prepared himself for more abuse, fully aware that he was provoking the man. But after standing over him for another few seconds, Redman turned on his heel and left the cell.
“Come along,” he said to his men, sounding furious. “We’ll search the others.”
The pirates followed him. One man closed and locked the door.
Draper helped Landry to his feet, regarding him with a blend of puzzlement and disapproval. They didn’t speak as they dressed.
Redman went to the cell that held Tancrede and Gawain next, and after that to the enclosure Godfrey shared with the young knights. He ordered Godfrey and Nathaniel to rouse Brice and remove his clothing. Godfrey objected and, from what Landry could tell, was beaten for his effort. In the end, Brice was stripped and made to stand as well. Of course, the pirates found nothing that might explain how a Templar had left his cell and ventured to the other side of the prison.
When he had completed his searches, the Monk appeared even more frustrated and confused than he had before.
“You’ve been made a fool, pirate,” Gawain said. “How could one of us have gotten free? Those others – they’re having a laugh at your expense.”
Landry wanted Gawain to say no more. He didn’t wish to bring the pirate’s wrath down on Kad and his men. On the other hand, he wouldn’t mind so much if Redman blamed only Henry for the alleged deception.
“Not another word, Templar,” the Monk warned. “I won’t be spoken of in that way. Not by anyone.”
Gawain had the good sense to keep silent.
Redman glanced about once again. Then he pivoted and strode to the stairway. He halted there, however, and faced them again.
“My patience with you wears thin. All of you but one have been beaten and tortured, and I am no closer to having the information I want. I believe it is time for me to alter my tactics. If being tortured yourselves is not enough to loosen your tongues, perhaps I ought to make you watch as the last of your brothers is slowly tormented and, if necessary, put to death. Think about it, Templars. Ask yourselves if you are willing to trade your brother’s life for a bit of gold.”
He spun away again and left the dungeon, his men scrambling after him.
Even after he was gone, Landry and the others held their tongues, lest the Monk or his men were listening.
Landry wanted to ask Draper what he had done with the iron sliver, but he dared not chance that question. Draper limped to his pallet and covered himself. Landry did the same. After this latest encounter with the pirates, he knew they had to attempt their escape as soon as possible. Nathaniel’s life depended upon it. Landry also knew, though, that the timing of their effort might well determine whether they succeeded or failed.
“These other prisoners,” Draper said, in a whisper. “Do you trust them?”
“Obviously, not the man who called for Redman. I do trust their leader. I believe he can convince the rest of his men to work with us.”
“It seems a risk.”
“It is,” Landry said. “But there are at least a dozen of them, and none of them have been wounded as we have. I’m not certain that we can get away without them. With them, I believe we have some small chance.”
“Landry.”
Godfrey’s voice. He and Draper stepped to the door.
“You have a plan?” the commander asked.
They glanced at the stairway at the same time, their eyes meeting again a moment later. Landry nodded.
“Tell me.”
Landry related what he had in mind as succinctly as possible. He noticed as he spoke that he no longer heard voices or music from the compound. Perhaps the pirates had retired for the night. More likely, Redman had put an end to frivolous pursuits and alerted his crew to the possibility that their prisoners had found a means to escape their cells.
As if to confirm his concerns, the torches outside their cells sputtered again, boots scraped on the steps leading to the dungeon, and two men emerged from the stairway: the hulking, bald brothers they had seen before. They said nothing, but took positions at either end of the chamber, one on the near side of Landry’s cell, the other on the far side of Godfrey’s.
Landry and Draper exchanged looks. Draper shook his head and huffed a silent sigh. There was no way Landry could work on the lock with Redman’s men standing beside their cell. If they didn’t find some way to distract or overcome the pirates, their escape would be over before it began.
* * *
Godfrey watched the Monk’s man take his position beside their cell, bile rising in his throat. Redman’s threat against Nathaniel frightened him. He had no doubt that the pirate would prove true to his word if they didn’t gain their freedom. Landry’s plan struck him as perilous to say the least, but no more so than remaining here and waiting to die.
“Commander,” Nathaniel said.
Godfrey turned from the door. Nathaniel stood near Brice, who had regained consciousness again.
Nathaniel opened his mouth to say more, but Godfrey held up a hand to stop him and put a finger to his lips, indicating that the knight should remain silent.
He knelt beside Brice, who followed his movements with his eyes, one of them swollen nearly shut. The lad’s face was misshapen, darkened by bruises and a crust of blood. The injuries to his hands and legs, though, appeared less severe than those borne by some of the other knights.
“How do you feel?” Godfrey asked, keeping his voice hushed.
“Terrible.”
Godfrey’s smile was fleeting. “Of course. But I need you to recover sooner than you might prefer. Pay attention to what Nathaniel and I do, remain silent and still until the door to this cell opens, but then be ready to act. Can you do all of that for me?”
“Of course.”
“God chose well when he brought you to our Order, brother.”
He stood, and approached Nathaniel. “Follow what I say and do,” he said, breathing the words.
Nathaniel’s green eyes widened fractionally, but he dipped his chin.
“You cannot tell them anything,” Godfrey said, speaking with force. “I don’t care what Redman said.”
The lad faltered, his mouth opening and closing again. Godfrey watched him, fearing Nathaniel might not be capable of the sort of ruse he had in mind.
The knight surprised him.
“With due respect, Commander,” he said, his voice climbing as well, “Redman said nothing about killing you. It’s easy for you to demand my silence.”
Godfrey grinned for an instant and winked.
“Easy? Are you mad? I’ve been beaten. We all have, except you. Or had you failed to notice?”
Nathaniel hesitated again. Godfrey made a motion of denial, then pointed to the knight and to the door.
“I don’t care about any of that,” Nathaniel said. “I’m going to tell him everything I know. I won’t die for you.”
Godfrey motioned at the door again, put his fist to his open hand. Nathaniel walked to the doorway.
“Hey, you!” he called to the nearer of the two guards. “I want to speak with—”
Godfrey gave him time for no more than that. He grabbed the knight from behind, spun him, and struck him across the jaw. Pain shot through his injured hand, but he didn’t care. Nathaniel staggered. Godfrey seized him with both hands and wrestled him to the floor.
They rolled one way and another, grappling, pretending to fight.
“You traitor!” Godfrey roared.
“I’ll kill you!” Nathaniel shouted back with such vehemence, Godfrey almost believed him.
“Hey!” he heard from the door. “You two stop that!”
“Ignore him,” Godfrey murmured.
“Right,” Nathaniel answered. Then, louder, “I will not be tortured to death for you and your gold!”
“Better get in there,” the other guard said to the one by their door.
Godfrey and Nathaniel continued their fight, rolling, struggling, and grunting, making a good show of trying to hurt each other. Metal scraped at the door: a key going in the lock.
Godfrey paused long enough to look Brice’s way. The young knight already watched him. He gave the slightest of nods before closing his eyes and lying still on the pallet.
With a twist of his shoulder, he indicated to Nathaniel that they should roll toward the wall opposite Brice’s pallet.
“Hit me,” Godfrey whispered, as they did this.
Nathaniel reared and threw a wild punch, which struck Godfrey high on the temple. This was one spot Redman had neglected to abuse during Godfrey’s torture. Though the blow barely hurt, it must have appeared fearsome to the pirate, landing as it did just as he opened the cell door.
“Hey!” the pirate said a second time.
He bent over them and grabbed at Godfrey and Nathaniel both, perhaps trying to separate them. He never had the chance.
Godfrey didn’t hear Brice rise or charge them. From the corner of his eye, he saw a form blur into view and crash into the pirate’s back. Redman’s man tripped over Godfrey and Nathaniel, and slammed face first into the stone wall directly in front of him.
“His sword!” Godfrey said, hissing the words.
Nathaniel grabbed for the hilt of the man’s weapon. The pirate, though probably dazed, did the same. Brice kicked the man in the back. Godfrey wrapped his arm around the pirate’s neck and pulled. Redman’s man grabbed at his arm, allowing Nathaniel to seize the sword.
Even as the knight pulled the weapon free, the other pirate stormed into the cell, his sword in hand.
“What in the Devil’s name—”
He got out no more than that. Nathaniel whirled, yellow hair wild with torchlight, and thrust the other pirate’s blade through the man’s heart. The pirate’s eyes and mouth went wide. He swayed, dropped the sword. His legs gave way and he slumped to the floor, blood spreading over his chest.
Godfrey maintained his hold on the first man, and he sensed rather than saw the pirate moving, snaking his arm down to his belt. Godfrey spotted the second weapon just as the pirate’s hand reached it. He grabbed for the blade as well.
“Brice!” he said.
The young knight reached for the pirate’s blade hand.
Nathaniel rounded, his bloodied weapon poised to strike.
“Don’t kill him!” Godfrey said.
A second later, the pirate hollered and released the knife he had claimed.
Liquid warmth flowed over Godfrey’s bare arm. Blood, from a wound Nathaniel had inflicted to the pirate’s shoulder. Godfrey handed the knife to Brice. Maintaining his grip on the pirate’s neck with one arm, he put his other hand over the man’s mouth to keep him from crying out again. As it was, they had made too much noise.
Brice held the knife to the corner of the pirate’s eye. Nathaniel placed the tip of the sword against his heart.
“I’m going to release you now,” Godfrey said, speaking in low tones. “If you scream. If you call for help. If you so much as twitch, you will lose your eye, and perhaps your life. Do you understand?” He moved his hand from the man’s mouth.
“Yes,” the pirate said, his voice flat, and not too loud.
“Excellent.”
Godfrey released him and climbed to his feet. The young knights stood over the pirate, weapons still at the ready.
“Now,” Godfrey said. “We’re going to free my friends, and then you’re going to answer some questions for us.”
Chapter 17
Landry gripped the bars of his door, his hands aching, his breathing ragged. He wanted to call out to Godfrey, but he didn’t know if he should, or if he might distract the commander at the worst possible time.
He hadn’t grasped what was happening in Godfrey’s cell. Not at first.
“It must be a ruse,” Draper had whispered to him as Godfrey and Nathaniel berated each other.
Hearing the words, he knew his friend was right. Godfrey would have understood that, with the pirates outside their cells, they could not hope to escape. The commander had taken it upon himself to overcome this newest obstacle.
When the first guard opened the door and charged inside, and the second man drew his sword and rushed into the cell, Landry feared that Godfrey had miscalculated. For several seconds – an interval that seemed to drag on for hours – he heard nothing from Godfrey and his fellow knights, nothing from Redman’s men.
At last, someone emerged from the cell. Brice limped as he walked to Landry and Draper’s door, his face battered and distorted by the Monk’s torture. But he flashed a crooked grin and held up a bruised hand. In it, he held a key.
He unlocked Landry’s door, and then the one beside it. In moments, Brice, Landry, Draper, Tancrede, and Gawain stood together in the round chamber.
“Godfrey intends to question him,” Brice said, struggling to enunciate. “He wants all of you there.”
“Him?” Tancrede asked.
“The pirate. The one who’s still alive.”
The rest of the knights shared glances. They started to follow the lad, but Landry stopped and requested the key. Brice frowned in confusion, but gave it to him. Landry opened the cell opposite his own and retrieved the knife and bracer he had thrown in there. Once he had strapped the blade to his forearm, he followed Brice and the others to Godfrey’s cell.
The pirate sat on the floor. Nathaniel stood behind him, a sword pressed to the back of his neck. Godfrey loomed in front of him, a second sword held loosely in one hand, and a knife in the other. The second pirate lay dead near the first man, his blood staining the stone.
Godfrey acknowledged Landry as he entered, but immediately turned his attention back to the pirate. “I’m going to ask you again, and then I’m going to start slicing away bits of you. Your fingers, your toes, perhaps an eye, perhaps some other appendage to which you’re more attached.” He pointed the tip of his sword at the man’s crotch. “You understand, yes?”
