Seduced (41 page)

Mayhap if she slept a bit, she would awaken
to see Raik and his army in the clearing ahead.

o0o

Raik watched the guards and saw their captive
intrigued them, going so far as to lean over with their heads in a
listening pose. The faint sound of singing drifted on the breeze.
His brave wife was defying Julian by acting as if what he did to
her mattered naught.

Finally, she stopped. All but two guards
moved away after Julian went below. Raik saw them having words then
come to a decision. When they turned to hide a flask as they
lowered it to Letia, he studied their faces.

He descended from the tree and prepared for
darkness. He dressed in clothing as black and plain as Ranald's
outfits. Mixing black dirt with a little water, he smeared the mud
over his face and neck. His men did likewise.

Every man wore black or deep brown. Leafy
branches stuck out all over them. Were anyone to come upon them,
they would have thought that demon's of the night lived in the
forest. The men took turns crouching in different positions until
their comrades agreed a guard atop the battlements would mistake
them for a bush. They crept to the edge of the woods and huddled
there amongst the shorter bushes, waiting their chances.

Julian had not had the clearing between the
castle and the woods stripped of all growth. Here and there, small
trees and bushes stood out in the darkness. Each man studied the
one he'd dart to when clouds covered the moon. They would fold
themselves close around it as they had practiced throughout the day
and make their way bush by bush until they reached the moat.

Raik's men had the advantage now, for torches
lined the wall walks bathing the guards in light. Hopefully, that
same light made it more difficult for them to peer down into the
dark moat. Raik waited, nettles pricking his skin through his
clothing. Finally, a cloud graciously provided the cover he needed.
Crouching, he ran to his next bush. Glancing around, he was
satisfied his men had followed suit.

'Twas a long process, seeming to take
forever. Finally, he reached the far right corner of the castle
wall, an angle not favorable for the guards for it was in the
deepest shadows. With barely a ripple, he slid into the foul water
and held still until sure no guard had seen him. His face and head
hidden behind a clump of leaves, he slowly made his way across the
water until he brushed against the slime of the castle's walls.
Water had washed the mud from his hands. He kept them below the
waterline as he eased himself along until he was below Letia's
prison.

A torch flared yellow light above her cage.
Raik covered his head with the branch leaves and submerged his
shoulders beneath the black water.

"Wake up, wake up, my lady." Julian called
out as he leaned out and waved the torch back and forth. "Servants
swept the floor after my hounds were well fed. See what they left
you."

"Dump it," he loudly ordered the two guards
still on duty. They took their time, reluctant to lift the bucket.
As they spilled its contents over her head, they cursed. Julian
believed they cursed at her. Raik knew better. They cursed the
man.

"Tomorrow will prove your husband thought too
little of you to bother himself. Likely he is at this moment
contracting for a new bride, one who is beautiful and soft, who
knows how to pleasure a man." He chortled, pleased with
himself.

Hearing the hurtful words, Raik promised
himself that once he got his hands on Julian, his gaping neck would
not allow for speech. When Letia replied, his heart swelled with
pride.

"Such tasty sustenance. It is most thoughtful
of your hounds, my lord. One day, my own Freki will treat you as
kindly."

Julian's hearty laughter faded as his
footsteps took him further away in his inspection of the wall
walk.

Raik dared not look up, fearing his blue eyes
would shine like a creature of the night, alerting anyone who
peered down at her. The cage creaked as she settled herself. While
he waited for the guards to settle into their nightly routines, he
studied the bottom of the bridge. Here and there, age had opened
gaps between the heavy planks, enough to give him a finger-hold.
His biggest problem was noting places for his toes to grip.

All became quiet. Now and again, a man farted
or belched; others told jokes and bragged about their sexual
exploits. Drawing a sharply honed knife strapped to his thigh, he
clamped the blade's handle between his teeth and started the
agonizing climb. Timber by timber, he edged upward until he was
near enough to touch the solid bottom of her cage.

He reached up behind the darkest corner and
groped for a piece of her shirt. Giving it the softest tug, he
removed his knife from his lips and whispered her name so softly it
was no more than a sigh in the night's breeze. He felt her stiffen.
Her hand followed the shirt until her cold fingers touched his warm
hand. She choked back a sob and bent to lay her cheek against his
flesh.

He pulled himself up so she could see his
gestures as he nodded to the rope binding the nearest corner. When
he clutched the bars there, the cage tilted. She immediately shoved
herself into the opposite corner, balancing the cage.

Raik slashed at the rope, severing all but
enough to hold it together. He crawled like a spider to the
opposite side. She again shifted her balance as he clung to the
drawbridge and worked at that corner. When near ready to sever the
last strands, he stopped.

"Cling tight to the bars, love," he urged,
afeared that the rest of the ropes would give way and she would
slip into the moat. He swung to the top of the cage, sending it
lurching like a storm tossed boat then lunged up to grab the pulley
holding it. He heaved himself onto the rampart opening, nearly
knocking Julian over.

Piers had signaled Letia's slingers, for
suddenly a barrage of rocks whistled through the air, silently
striking guards.

"Seton is here," Julian bellowed.

His shout alerted not only Chatton Castle's
men but it signaled Cormac to begin his attack. Flaming arrows lit
up the sky above the castle, giving Seton's archers clear targets.
The archers leaped up from the bushes, their arrows nocked then
flying high above Letia, striking along the wall walks. Men
screamed and fell.

Raik's feet slammed into Julian's gut and
sent him backward to the edge of the wall walk. Letia's two guards
turned their backs on Julian and disappeared.

Freki added his voice to the noise of battle,
his throaty barks and piercing howls sounding like a raving
wolf's.

Showers from archers and slingers kept
Chatton's guards away as Raik drew his sword. His and Julian's
blades clanged together. Sparks shot into the night sky. Julian
yanked Letia's blade from his belt. He took advantage of every
opening to chop at the rope leading to the pulley.

The cage hung by mere strands. The rope
snapped. Letia's screams merged with the horrible sounds of the
cage bumping against the castle as it fell.

Their blades locked, Raik heaved forward
pushing Julian back until Raik reached an opening. He gave one last
heave and spun around to leap into the moat after Letia, but Julian
grabbed Raik's sword belt to pull him back.

Raik dragged him over the side with him.

When the cage groaned and began to fall,
Letia clung on as Raik had told her. She took in a giant gasp of
air, intent on staying alive as long as possible.

As the cage hit the water, it started to
collapse as it carried her to the moat's dark bottom. Hand over
hand, she fought her way in the gloom to the opened side.

From the shore, Freki's golden eyes sparked
when he spied the man who had beaten him near to death. When Julian
clung to Raik falling from the battlement, the dog snarled and
slavered at the mouth. As they disappeared beneath the surface, he
leapt into the water after them.

Water splashed high as Seton's strongest
swimmers dove in to save Letia. The water churned. Someone
struggled to the top. Julian, his mouth agape in a soundless
scream, his arms and legs thrashing wildly, surfaced first. Freki's
massive jaws clamped the back of Julian's neck. The huge beast
shook his head, thrashing the man in the water as if he was a mere
hare. Finally, Freki stopped. He opened his jaws and the man slowly
slid into the murky depths.

Blood floated to the surface, staining the
water dark red.

Seton's men surfaced, gulped air and dove
again.

Raik had slung off Julian to blindly search
for his wife. His hands found a wooden bar. Cloth brushed against
his fingertips. He jerked at it. It held tight. He felt Letia's
struggles, and reaching deeper, found her shoulders. He grabbed her
under her arms.

With a mighty kick against the tangled
wreckage, he pulled her free. His strong legs thrust them to the
surface, Letia's face against his shoulders. Eager hands reached to
pull them to safety. He held her close as she coughed and strangled
on the water emptying from her lungs.

Once Julian had plunged from the battlement,
few of Julian's men fought on. Seton's archers soon picked them
off. An eerie quiet fell over the castle.

Sounds of the drawbridge lowering brought him
to his feet holding her safely against his side. Torches lit up the
field as if it were midday. Edulf rode over leading Storm.

Piers followed, tilting his head toward
Letia, he questioned Raik with his eyes. He held a blanket ready.
Raik lifted her up into the archer's arms.

"Keep her safe 'till I secure this mess."

Raik mounted Storm then took his sword and
shield from Edulf. He and Cormac rode to meet the drawbridge as it
landed.

Seton's army was in formation, filling the
clearing with mounted knights, archers and slingers, and foot
soldiers with pikes and maces. Though some of the warriors looked
like living trees, their faces mud-black, leaves sticking out of
their chain mail and helmets, they were no less fearsome. All
waited, their weapons at the ready.

Raik wasn't surprised when the portcullis
raised and a lone horseman rode out to greet him. Weaponless,
except for a pike holding a white flag aloft.

Castle Chatton fell without further
conflict.

At Chatton a fortnight later, Letia awoke
with her stomach fluttering from both the new baby's growing
movements and her own excitement. Today, they would return to Seton
and Aubrey. She felt well rested, her body recovered. Yellow and
green bruises still covered her face where Julian's fists had
pummeled it. She could open her eyelids wide now, and her cut lips
had healed so she smiled without a grimace.

Every night they lay close so their bodies
touched. Raik carefully put his arms around her and avoided any
spot he feared might cause her distress. As they talked and drew
comfort from their closeness, he called himself a fool for not
realizing he'd loved her from the time they'd attended Ranald's
wedding. He'd argued with Ranald and Warin that no woman was
capable of commanding the defense of a castle. He groaned, now.
They must have thought him a fool, for Warin had offered proof,
that Letia had not only done so once but many times over. Raik
admitted too, that her dressing as a squire had not made her
mannish. It had upset him so because male clothing fitted closer to
her body, making him more aware of her beautiful legs, firm
buttocks and slender back.

He was not the only one to confess. She
confided her own secret passion for him. She'd buried it so deeply
in her heart that she'd convinced herself it was fear and hate. She
admitted with sadness that Warin must have been aware all along and
had formed his plan with her future happiness in sight.

They took every opportunity when they were
alone to tell each other of their love. Her body had healed enough
that Raik no longer touched her as if she were a cracked egg likely
to lose its form if he held her close. He had proved it last eve.
More than once.

The memory heated her body. He slept now,
sprawled on his stomach, his face turned to her. No signs of strain
lingered there.

'Twas a crime for a man to be so handsome.
Her fingertips floated above his face, exploring it in the air.
Such dark brows. Full, long eyelashes. Though his nose had swollen
near as much as her face had, it now showed naught but a thin scar.
But it was no longer as straight as before. He did not remember
whether it came from a blow while battling Julian, or from contact
with the moat's debris and grappling with the bars of her broken
cage.

Just that one slight flaw in his perfect face
made him even more enticing. Slight puffs of air escaped his lips,
soft in sleep. Desire trailed fire down to her belly. Remembering
his teasing lips on her nipples a short time ago, they tingled and
hardened.

The sun's soft rays crept over the horizon.
Keeping watch on his face, she eased up on her knees and took care
not to disturb him. Gently, as if she unclothed Aubrey, she removed
the blanket and bared his fine arse. She leaned close and studied
the brown mark and the scar immediately below it. He'd laughingly
told her of the arrow that had found his nether cheek. Ranald had
stitched his wound while he and the men teased Raik that his birdie
sat on a perch and gazed at the crack between his nether
cheeks.

"Dinna dare laugh, wife," Raik's sleepy voice
cautioned.

"Never, my love. I find it precious." Letia
feathered a kiss over his marked flesh.

"Precious?" Raik heaved over and toppled her
into his arms. "By Lucifer's crooked toes! 'Tis more insulting than
laughter." He folded her in his arms and nibbled his way over her
ears and neck as he made his way down to her breasts. She propped
herself on her elbows, giving him space to reach her breasts.