A Knight for Love (33 page)

The shadow of the palisade hid him well and gave him the opportunity to collect his thoughts and calm his breath. He must remain calm, for Alyna’s very life depended on it.

He inspected the darkened keep, with its tightly shut door and shuttered win
dows. Blessed silence filled his ears for it meant no one had found the hapless guardsmen and therefore his presence remained undetected.

He made his way to the postern door and tried the latch. It opened easily beneath his fingers and he slipped through, leaving it ajar to catch what little light he could. Before him, steep stairs disappeared up. He climbed them step by stealthy step.

The stairs opened into the warmth of the kitchen. Banked embers in the fireplace cast a muted orange glow throughout the empty room. He strode purposely through it before pausing at the portal into the storeroom.

A lone wall sconce flickered against the gloom. His luck was about to run out, for someone
trod the stairs coming down from what must be the great hall. He dove behind some barrels and unsheathed his knife, waiting for the unknown person to show himself.

*****

Alyna drowsed in the heat given off by the coals of the fireplace in the hall. She had claimed a spot close to the warmth and had not moved from there the entire day. As night fell, someone had thrown her a fur and she had wrapped it about herself before lying down. Swathed in both her cloak and the fur, it was not too uncomfortable.

Yet s
he wouldn’t let herself fall asleep. Somewhere there must be a postern and she had to find it, had to find a way to Warin. She propped herself up on one elbow and scanned the room. No one stirred. She struggled to her feet, dropping the fur but keeping her cloak. If anyone awoke and asked, she would say she needed to relieve herself.

No one noticed her as she
stepped over the sleeping bodies littering the great hall. Philippa and Alan were nowhere to be seen. They must be sharing the lord’s chamber above – so much for Philippa’s apparent modesty and piety, and so much too, for Baldric’s usefulness to Philippa. Exactly what Baldric deserved, she thought with derision, to be tossed aside when someone more to Philippa’s liking came along.

S
he slowed as she approached the stairs. The flicker from a single wall sconce below barely penetrated the darkness and she held onto the wall for guidance as she moved slowly down the steps.

At the bottom
and out of the murk, a gloved hand clamped over her mouth. Startled, her heart nearly exploded with fear and she tried to scream.

“Mmmmf!”
The hand muffled her voice and she struggled to pull herself away, stepping on her cloak in the process. She lost her balance and toppled against her assailant. Sobs bubbled up in her throat. She’d been discovered already, her search for Warin finished before it had even begun. 

“Alyna! Shh!
It’s me.” It took her befuddled, sleep-filled mind a second or two to realize Warin whispered in her ear.

Frantic with relief, she hugged him, encircling his neck with fierce abandon. They embraced for an ethereal instant before he pulled her arms away. However, he kept one hand firmly anchored on Alyna’s elbow and the possessive gesture filled her with pleasure.

She opened her mouth to speak but he placed his finger on it and shook his head at her. He pointed towards the kitchen and she nodded in understanding. Soundless shadows, they crept towards the doorway. Once there, Warin held back a second to scan the room and at his nod, they flitted through and then down the stairs, out the postern.

“How did you find me,” she whispered, amazed he
’d come so quickly.

“Later,” he
murmured. “We’re not safe yet.” They hurried along the stepped path leading down towards the bailey. Just outside the gatehouse, they stopped.

“Wait here.” Warin disappeared around the side of the small building. Alyna sagged against the wall, grateful for the respite. The tower of Faulkenburg loomed over them, dark and menacing, but thankfully, silent. Her heart pounded and beads of perspiration pricked her forehead.

Warin returned with a pleased expression on his face.

“Our luck holds,” he whispered to Alyna, pointing back to where he just came from.

She peeked around the corner and seeing the two inert forms, nodded in understanding.

“Ready?”

At her nod, he took her elbow again, guiding her carefully through the shadows. Once free of the palisade, they doubled back around the base of the hillock until they were behind the keep and out of sight of the bailey. The only thing between them and freedom was the stone curtain wall, mayhap three men tall, encircling the entire keep.

“Can you climb?” Warin’s voice was solicitous.

“I think so.” Aye, she would climb or die trying.

“I
’ll go first and lower the rope.”

Slinging his sword over the same shoulder as the rope, he began to climb
the rough stone work. Carefully, from handhold to handhold, wedging his toes into the gaps between the stones, he clambered up the wall. Alyna watched, heart in her throat, certain he would misstep and tumble to his death.

But he didn’t and soon, Warin sat on top. He formed a loop in the length of rope and tossed it down to her.

“Put your foot in the loop,” he whispered.

She did as he instructed and seemingly effortless, he pulled her up. When she reached the top, he grabbed her hand and hauled her up beside him.

“All is well?” He whispered in her ear and his breath tickled her neck.

“Aye,” she whispered.

“We’re almost over.” He gave her an encouraging smile and his teeth flashed white, even in the dim light of the new moon. “Bennet waits in the trees.” He pulled up the rope, offering her the loop. “I’ll lower you down.”

She nodded and wiggled over to the outer edge of the wall before putting her foot in the loop. She turned around to face him, edging backwards, scrabbling at the stones with her fingers, until she hung suspended, slowly swinging to and fro. She clung to the rope with all her might, pushing away from the wall with her elbows as he lowered her down.
She welcomed the solid ground beneath her feet and with trembling knees, she leaned against the wall. So far, all remained silent. They were safe.

“You are down?” Warin’s whisper came from above.

“Aye.”

The next instant, the rope snaked down, landing in a muddled heap beside her. She could hear a scratching sound as Warin searched for footholds with his toes, ending only as he jumped the last few feet. He buckled his sword at his waist then looked at the rope.

“We may need this.” He wound the rope around his elbow and hand and then slung the coil over his shoulder.

Alyna looked
up at the stone curtain wall. No heads appeared, no shouts sounded. Her heart lessened its frantic pounding but she had a difficult time catching her breath. Nerves clutched her belly and she bounced from foot to foot.

“Come.” Warin grabbed her hand and they began to run, flanked on one side by the wall and on the other by the stake-filled motte.

“Here.” He pulled her up abruptly. “Here there is a way through the stakes.”

Cautiously, they wound their way through. Alyna’s cloak caught on one of the sharpened ends and she yanked it free, leaving a small patch of fabric.

Warin reached back for it. “No need to tell them we passed through here.”

She noticed he tucked the tiny swatch in his pocket, like a good luck talisman. It reminded her of that day of the joust when she had given him her hair ribbon.

They climbed out of the motte and ran towards the road. Fear gripped Alyna, tightening her chest, lodging itself in her throat like a mud clump. They had a long distance to go to reach the woods and even in the dull light of the new moon, against the snow they would easily
be seen from the keep.

“Oh!” She stumbled, falling on all fours. The snow
stung her hands and she yanked them free, rubbing them together to warm them as best she could.

“Come. Let me carry you.” Warin helped her up and slung her bodily over his shoulder. He seemed not to notice her additional weight and he jogged along easily on steady legs with breath firm and even. His shoulder bone jammed into her pelvis, each step jarring
and she hoped it would not hurt the babe.

“Here.” Bennet hailed them as they finally approached the welcoming shelter of the trees.

Relief swept through Alyna at the calm voice. Warin set her down gently and she barely had time to wave at Bennet before bolting behind the nearest bush. By the time she emerged, Warin again wore his mail and he and Bennet had mounted. Warin leaned down and held out his arm.

“Here Alyna, we must hurry
.” He swung her up behind him. “Hold on.”

Without waiting for a reply, he spurred Citadel and they began the desperate race back to Caperun Keep.

Followed by Bennet, they galloped at full speed through the ghostly trees, dodging the branches that looked to Alyna like black claws attempting to catch them, and brushing past shrubs that seemingly tried to block their path.

At first it appeared as if their escape had been unnoticed, for the forest behind them
remained quiet and the only sounds to be heard came from the pounding of hooves on the frozen ground. However, their luck ran out as the sky began to lighten with winter pale streaks of rose and ivory.

With the strengthening light came the ever-increasing sounds of pursuit. Shouts in the distance and the baying of hounds raised the hair on the back of Alyna’s neck. Warin, however, appeared unconcerned and she took comfort in that, leaning into him even closer as they continued their headlong flight through the trees.

They rounded a corner in the path and Warin pulled up suddenly, so suddenly that Bennet charged past for a few yards before stopping.

“We have time to lay a trap,” Warin said as Bennet trotted back with an inquiring look on his face. “Citadel carries two and has not the speed to outrun our pursuers.”

“Aye,” Bennet agreed.

Warin helped Alyna dismount and then slid off, putting the reins of Citadel into her hand. Bennet did the same.

“Take the horses and hide,” Warin instructed. “Don’t make a sound and don’t show yourself until I tell you all is clear.” He leaned down and brushed his lips against her cheek. “Fret not,” he whispered, “all will be well. To stand and face our foes is much better than to run like cowards.”

“Aye, my lord
.” Alyna’s voice quivered. Determined to hide her fear, she smiled at him. “Don’t worry for me.”

“Go.” He took the coiled rope off the pommel of the saddle and then
nudged her towards the safety of the trees.

Alyna pulled the horses behind her and disappeared into the woods. The ground beneath her sloped upward a
s she pushed through the dense underbrush. When she judged herself to be mayhap two men higher than the road, she tied the horses to a branch and wedged herself between two solid tree trunks. From here she had a clear view.

Down below,
Warin and Bennet strung the rope between two trees. They positioned it a fair height off the ground and she puzzled on that. It didn’t take her long to realize why for no sooner had Warin and Bennet hid than around the corner then came the leading riders.

The first two hit the rope neck high
and were knocked senseless to the ground. Spooked, the rider-less horses galloped away at breakneck speed, disappearing around the next curve in the path.

The next rider charged around the corner and pulled up when he saw the two bodies.

“Keep back! There is a trap!” He cried out to the others but a knife flew out of nowhere to cut short his warning. Blood gushed from the wound in his neck and he slumped in the saddle before toppling slowly to the ground. The reins of his horse became tangled beneath the body and the panicked animal began to buck and squeal. It broke free and charged back the way it had come, stirrups flapping, saddle tilted askew.

The hoof beats died away, leaving the forest in silence. Even the birds stopped chirping, the scent of freshly spilled blood warning them to be still. Alyna shifted position, wiggling her toes in her boots in an effort to warm them.

The man had called out a warning so there must be others with him but why didn’t they come? She snuggled her chin deeper into her cloak. Warin hadn’t called for her so she must stay hidden.

After what seemed like an eternity, three more men rode into view and stopped just below Alyna. She recognized Baldric, Alan and Wimarc immediately and a surge of abhorrence spilled through her. They meant to kill her and the babe she carried within her womb, the babe whose existence Warin didn
’t even know of as yet.

She tried to suppress the fear threaten
ing to swallow her whole. Aye, she hid here on the hill but what if Warin and Bennet were killed in the skirmish? The men below would easily find her for her tracks lay in the snow for all to see. Her death and that of her babe would be swift and likely not avenged. Sorrow washed through her at that thought. Nay, she shook her head, it won’t happen that way. Even outnumbered by one, Warin and Bennet will triumph, for right, and the king, are with us.