Champion of the Heart (12 page)

J
ordan trembled in the saddle as she stared at the crumbling ruins of what used to be Castle Mercer. She knew the castle had fallen into disrepair over the years, but she was surprised at the extent of its decay.

The morning sun was just beginning to rise on the horizon. Its reddish light drenched the collapsed walls and cracked stones in a blood-red glow. For a moment, she felt as if she were looking at some fallen stone giant, its numerous wounds spilling blood everywhere she could see, staining the half-erect walls with the red-smeared memories of a hard-fought battle. A chilling breeze seemed to float forth from the empty castle interior, whistling soft, eerie whispers to her as the slight wind circled round her.

Jordan shivered and goose bumps peppered her arms. She wanted to rub the chill away, rub her hands up and down her arms, but her bound wrists prevented her from doing so.

As they crossed the drawbridge, the planks creaked and moaned, and Jordan thought for certain the rotted boards wouldn’t support their weight. At one point in the middle of the bridge, a gaping hole showed the brown, murky moat below. The water was dark, its surface overgrown with decayed plant life.

The horse continued on, moving beneath the rusted portcullis. Jordan glanced up as the animal brought her under the raised metal spikes. Teeth. That’s what they were. Huge, metal teeth waiting to take a bite out of any unsuspecting visitor. She quickly looked away.

Inside the outer ward, the houses, which had once been home to thriving merchants and villagers, stood empty, some without doors, some with collapsed thatched roofs. Weeds had overrun the outer courtyard, climbing their way around the houses and up the castle walls, encompassing the cracked and crumbling stone in a tapestry of varied greens and browns.

Her wrists chafed, the tight ropes digging into her flesh, the binds seeming to grow tighter and tighter the deeper they moved into the castle. Again she shivered, but this time it wasn’t from any chill wind. She knew the source of the dread snaking up along her spine. It was this place, Castle Mercer.

Its eerie tales had spooked nearby villagers for a decade.

As they approached the inner ward, Jordan noticed that not only were both the inner and outer wards empty, but so were the walkways. Wind blew eerily across the vacant battlements. The only soldiers guarding the castle were the ghosts from long ago.

Indeed, she had heard many rumors and much gossip about the ghosts of Castle Mercer. Many a villager had seen specters patrolling the gatehouses at night. No one would dare to step foot into the crumbling castle for fear of being swept away into the afterlife. She glanced up at the rising sun. At least it was almost daytime. Most ghosts didn’t come out during the day. At least, she hoped they didn’t.

Fox halted the horses in the middle of the inner courtyard. Jordan remained seated for a long time, glancing around the courtyard for any sign of dark demons. Castle Mercer was supposed to have been vacant for years. Evan had told her many times no one lived at Castle Mercer anymore. Every year, he sent a man out to make sure none of the villagers had taken up residence there. But the villagers were far too scared to go anywhere near the castle, especially after the year the man Evan had sent returned with a horrifying story of floating ghosts and terrifying footsteps. Evan had to find another man to send every year after that, and most refused to return to the castle a second year.

Jordan knew Evan would not look in Castle Mercer for her. It was a perfect spot for Fox to keep her. Evan was convinced it was empty. The villagers were terrified.

And then there were the ghosts.

Movement behind her caught her eye and she whirled to see a little girl trailing in the distance behind them with a large branch of leaves, dusting the ground, wiping away any sign that someone had entered the castle.

At the feel of hands around her waist Jordan startled, pulling back in the saddle, stifling her scream. She looked down to find Fox had already dismounted and was reaching to ease her from the horse. Jordan cursed herself for letting her imagination run away with her. Ghosts. There were no such things. She was constantly telling the children that, yet here she was letting herself get spooked by old stories and foolish flights of fancy.

She pushed Fox’s hands away and slid from the saddle. She nearly fell to the ground, but leaned into the horse’s side to keep her balance. Her gaze darted to the darkened doorway of the nearby blacksmith’s shop. Had something moved in there? For a fleeting moment, she thought she saw a flash of white pass the doorway. She quickly looked away, again cursing her imagination. I’m just tired, she rationalized. Just tired.

Fox put a hand to her lower back and ushered her up the two steps to the Keep. She offered no resistance. One side of the great double doors hung from one of its hinges, leaning heavily against the other. There was just enough room for one person to enter. Fox pushed her gently through the opening.

Jordan stopped instantly when she entered the dark keep. There were no torches on the walls, and only a bare sliver of light from outside penetrated the dark hallway. She involuntarily took a step back, wanting to get out of the murky gloom, but Fox bumped into her as he entered the Keep behind her, stopping her movement.

He gently pushed her a step forward, but Jordan tried to retreat again, afraid to move ahead. In the black interior of the decaying building, she thought she heard someone moan.

Fox’s chuckle sounded in her ear, but Jordan refused to move. He took hold of her arm and guided her down the hallway, pulling her forward.

Jordan remained close to Fox, her gaze flickering from one shadow to the next. Her fingers closed over his tunic, holding it tightly in her fist, a beacon to this world.

Her eyes grew used to the darkness, but the images reaching her made it feel as if she were living a nightmare. Shadows seemed to slither around her, thin black tendrils weaving and shifting in the darkness. More disturbing sounds reached her ears. Footsteps. For a moment she thought someone was walking right behind them, but when she turned to look she could see nothing but more eerie shadows. It took her another moment to realize she was hearing Fox’s footsteps and hers echoing around them off the cracked stone walls.

They moved past the double doors of what used to be the Great Hall. A shaft of rising sun shone in through the open entrance and down the hallway, allowing her a glimpse into the room. She stopped walking, forcing Fox to pause. She was grateful for the momentary ray of sunlight. The Hall was empty, a mere shadow of its former grandeur. There were no rushes on the floor, and several cracked wooden benches lay overturned not far from the entrance.

Jordan remembered the many times she had seen this cavernous room bursting with life and energy. She glanced to her right and remembered the time a juggling bear and its master had come to Castle Mercer. They had stood right near the wall where she was. The bear had been wearing a silly red hat, but had been an impressive juggler, bouncing the balls off his big black snout. And over there, deeper in the room to her left, she remembered the impressive ice sculptures that had filled the room during a feast Fox’s father had hosted.

But now the room was barren. Even her pleasant memories did nothing to cover the emptiness she felt at the sight of it. This was no longer the place she remembered from her childhood.

And Fox Mercer was no longer the boy she had once called friend.

Suddenly, a bang sounded from somewhere deeper in the castle. Jordan jumped and faltered, moving closer to Fox. The noise sounded again. A wooden shutter banging in the wind, perhaps.

Fox continued down the hallway passed the Great Hall, pulling Jordan along behind him. He turned a corner and Jordan almost screamed as a stark figure crossed the hall in front of them. It had long white hair and was wearing a long, flowing white robe. It was gone as quickly as it had emerged.

Fox stepped forward, seemingly oblivious to the specter that had just crossed their path, but Jordan’s feet wouldn’t move. “This castle is haunted,” Jordan whispered.

“Only with old memories.”

Jordan lifted her eyes to Fox. In the gloom, he was but a darkened silhouette in the hallway, a mere ghost himself.

Again he moved forward, pulling her with him.

But Jordan couldn’t get her feet to take a step.

“Afraid?” Fox asked, mockingly.

Was it her chattering teeth that gave her away? Her shivering hands? Or the goose bumps shooting up and down her flesh? Jordan didn’t respond, but her feet magically began to move again. She stayed close to Fox. He was not afraid of these phantoms and their ghostly noises, and he was the only protection she had.

As they moved through the hall, Jordan saw no more traces of the ghostly apparition. It had simply vanished.

They turned another corner and another, moving deeper into the castle, deeper into the darkness. She tried to remember where she was in the castle from her many childhood visits, but her mind refused to cooperate. She felt lost. Fox paused at the bottom of a set of narrow stairs. He had to pry Jordan’s fingers from his arm to get her to let go of him. He stepped up into the darkness and vanished. For a moment, Jordan panicked. She rushed forward and tripped over the first stair, tumbling forward into Fox’s back. He quickly reached out a hand to steady her.

“Patience,” Fox said.

“Don’t leave me,” Jordan hissed. “Not here.”

“There’s not enough room for both of us in the stairway. You know that.”

And she did, suddenly remembering the layout of the castle. These stairs led up to the second floor, to the bedrooms. She had used them dozens of times without incident. But today they seemed to lead to danger, to an unknown fate.

“Give me your hand,” he instructed.

Jordan reached out to him with her bound hands and he found her fingers, closing his hand over hers. Strangely, she felt more secure. He began to move up the stairs. Jordan followed, carefully, a step at a time.

“Careful,” he said softly, “this stair is broken.”

Jordan stepped over the chipped slab of rock, and within seconds they emerged into the second level corridor.

Far in the distance, light cast an eerie glow on the stones in the hallway. They moved toward the light and Jordan found herself clinging to Fox’s arm. Another ghost? But the light looked more like sunlight.

As they neared, she could see the light came from an open doorway. Fox moved to the doorway of the room and paused.

Jordan stared into the room. She had known this room long ago. It was his mother’s old room. But the bed was gone. The beautiful decorative chest was gone. Everything she remembered being in the room was gone. A large window facing the northern wall was open, allowing the morning sunlight to enter the room. A wooden table with benches on either side was positioned near the window. Jordan’s gaze was captured by the cold, dead hearth on the eastern side of the room. One chair was positioned before it. The walls were bare, except for one ripped, frayed tapestry she didn’t remember, and the floor was uncovered and cold.

A great hound lumbered up to them. He sniffed Fox and passed him without incident. He stuck his wet muzzle into Jordan’s white dress, sniffed, and growled slightly. Jordan took a step away from the dog.

Fox pulled her toward the hearth, and the great hound followed them like a guard, snarling softly.

Jordan cast a glance over her shoulder at the dog.

Fox turned toward the door. “Prepare the north tower,” he instructed.

Jordan turned to see a short stocky man with gray hair standing silently at the room’s threshold. He nodded and moved off. The room filled with the other members of Fox’s band. Beau, the one who had been their prisoner at Castle Ruvane, entered and took a seat on one of the benches, the tall one with red hair and beard followed him. The woman crossed the room to the window, leaning back on the ledge with her arms crossed.

The north tower? In all the time she had been at Castle Mercer, she didn’t think she had ever been to the north tower.

Jordan twisted her wrists, trying to shift the ropes, but her movement only seemed to tighten her bonds.

Fox stared at her thoughtfully. He had changed. She almost didn’t recognize him. He had a growth of stubble covering his square chin. His nose was strong and straight, not the pug little nose of the boy she remembered. His eyes were dark and brooding. As she looked closer, she could see they were still the eyes she remembered. But this man, this grown Fox, was very handsome. If he weren’t a criminal, she would have acknowledged the fact that he might be pleasing to be with.

But he killed Maggie, a voice inside her reminded. She looked away from him, mentally chiding herself for her stray thoughts.

“We have to keep her hidden,” Fox said. “I don’t want him to know she is here.”

All eyes were once again on her. She lifted her chin slightly.

Beau smiled slightly before saying, “Fox, you can’t keep her hidden forever.”

“Just until I receive the ransom,” Fox said.

The sun had risen higher and was now starting to fill the room, vanquishing the shadows. Jordan’s confidence grew stronger as the sunlight grew brighter. Evan would find her. He would not rest until she was safely back with him.