Strangclyf Secret (10 page)

“
But what about the queen?”
Damon asked. “No one refuses her.”

“
I cannot worry about her
right now. I am going to keep a vigil this night, so I can pray for
the safety of my husband and my king.” She let her glare break
through. “I will also pray for the souls of the two men who let
them ride toward death without helping me try to save
them.”

“
I say ‘tis ridiculous to
let good equipage go to waste,” said the beefy Saxon guard with
long stringy dark hair and a blackened eye as he glared at the
three warriors chained to the dungeon wall.

“
Aye,
Sarlic,” Attor, an equally unkempt soldier of medium stature,
agreed. “And the way I remembers, Hadwyn said not to torture
them
to death.
He
wants ‘em alive for when Orlege gets here. Didn’t say we couldn’t
have a little fun though, and I’m thinkin’ you should get some
revenge for the big black one markin’ you.”

Sarlic sneered toward the
three big Normans, the chains giving him courage. “I think you’re
right. A nice brand would add character to his bald
cheek.”

Walking to the round,
stone fire pit in the center of the circular torture chamber at the
heart of the Strangclyf dungeon, Sarlic pulled a poker from the
flame and turned toward Bernon. His steps faltered a good eight
feet away as Bernon’s eyes took on the appearance of boiling
hematite. Sarlic restrained himself from making the sign of the
cross then reminded himself the beast was chained.

“
Do be quick with your
kill, my friend,” Geno said in a disgusted tone as his angry gaze
raked their guards. “Someone suffering so from stupidity should not
be made to suffer a lingering death as well.”

“
You are the stupid one,”
Sarlic ranted, shaking the poker at Geno. “Chained to the wall at
my mercy, yet you mock me.”

“
Mayhap you should mark him
instead,” Attor suggested, placing another iron in the blaze. “His
pretty face would surely become more manly and improve his chances
with the women in hell.”

“
Nay, Attor. ‘Twas the
Black Bear who marked me, so I will scar him,” Sarlic declared.
“You may mangle the pretty boy.”

Bernon’s eyes narrowed as
Sarlic took another step toward him. The Saxon not only stopped
again, he also quaked.

“
For heaven’s sake, Bernon.
Stop frightening the fool, so he can get close enough for you to
kill him,” King William ordered.

“
Fool! You call me a fool!
Why, you no-good bastard usurper! I’ll let you feel the fire
first.” Sarlic changed directions. When the poker was a scant inch
from William’s nose, Sarlic halted, wearing a surprised expression
on his face, then crumbled at the king’s feet with a familiar
pearl-handled dagger in his back.

Attor spun around, opening
his mouth to call for help. Another dagger pierced his forehead,
and he fell backward headfirst into the fire pit.

“
Well
zut!”
Barwolf, garbed in a brown priest’s frock, ran from one of
the three corridors into the chamber and grabbed Attor by the waist
of his braies. She tried to tug his body out of the flames. Bernon
watched her, unable to believe what he saw.

“
What is wrong, dear?”
Matilda asked as she entered the chamber, wearing similar apparel,
and hurried to Barwolf’s side.

Barwolf grunted,
maintaining her hold. “’Tis a perfectly good dagger, and I do not
want it to melt.”

Matilda patted Barwolf’s
shoulder and raised a mocking brow toward her husband. “Attor’s top
half is probably quite burnt by now. We are both delicate flowers
and should not subject ourselves to such a horrid
sight.”

“
I am not delicate. I’m
small.” Barwolf grunted again. “There is a big
difference.”

“
But we do not want our men
to know that, dear.” Matilda folded her arms in front of her and
glared at the men. “They like to think of us as delicate. It gives
their manly pride a lift to believe we need them to protect us.
‘Tis why they set men to guard us as prisoners. They think they can
always save themselves. Let us not spoil their asinine opinions for
them.”

“
Of course they know they
need us to save them, Your Grace. They are chained to a wall, for
heaven’s sake. Ouch!” The flames caught Attor’s braies and Barwolf
let go. She turned her ferocious glower on Bernon and placed her
hands on her hips. “I hope you know I am very displeased to lose
that dagger, milord. And I’m not letting you get out of this
marriage by getting yourself killed either. You can send me away if
you want to, but I refuse to be The Strangclyf again.”

She walked toward him, her
emerald eyes glittering. She stopped by Sarlic and tried to push
him over. “You have caused me a lot of problems, Bernon, aye, you
have. Balen and Damon may never forgive me, and ‘tis all your
fault.” Barwolf grunted in her effort to heave the burly guard
over. “Queen Matilda, would you please bring your delicate self
over here and help me push this pig on his side, so we can get the
keys?”

Before Matilda moved,
William reached out his leg, caught Sarlic’s shoulder with his toe,
and pushed him over.

“
Thank you for your help,
Your Grace, but do not think I’m not angry at you too.” She raised
disappointed eyes to her monarch. “You probably encouraged him, and
after I told you Strangclyf was impervious to attack.”

Barwolf hefted the keys
from Sarlic’s belt, stood up, and walked toward Bernon. “I would
give you a piece of my mind, milord, but I have fretted most of it
away on your account. I told you there was a secret that went with
Strangclyf, but did you listen to me? Nay.” She stopped in front of
her husband and tapped his right thigh with her fingers. “Are you
right-handed or left-handed?”

Bernon didn’t answer. He
was too caught up in a surge of relief. His bride had a backbone.
He would set her straight later about turning her temper on him, of
course. But honest to God, he was glad to see her fire.

Geno, with a chuckle in
his tone, called out, “He is right-handed, little wolf.”

“
Thank you, Geno. I do not
blame you. You were trying to protect them, I’m sure.” Barwolf
stretched up on her toes and couldn’t raise her hand much higher
than Bernon’s shoulder, so she couldn’t reach the chain holding his
left arm above his head. She gasped and raised horrified eyes to
his. Then she bowed her head and patted his left leg. “I apologize
for being short, Bernon. Will you let me stand on your thigh, so I
may reach the shackle, please?”

Her question was a bare
whisper. Bernon couldn’t believe the sudden transformation to
submissive behavior. And why in perdition did it make a difference
if he was right- or left-handed? “Put your foot against my thigh
and your hands on my shoulder.”

She did as he instructed,
keeping her eyes averted. He bent his knee while raising his leg.
She still had a far reach, but managed to get the key in the
shackle and free Bernon’s left arm. She tried jumping backward off
his leg, but he caught her about the waist and pulled her against
him. Putting his mouth against her ear, he whispered, “Why did you
unchain my left arm first after Geno told you I was
right-handed?”

“
So I could get away before
you knocked me upside my head for losing my unfortunate temper,”
she whispered back, refusing to look at him.

She was shaking with
terror. Had he not already told her that he did not hit women? She
insulted him with her fear. “You will move to my other leg and
unchain my right arm.”

He felt a shudder surge
through her, then one of her feet brushed against his right thigh.
Her obedience made up for her previous insult and he was pleased
with her again. His little bride was brave. He raised her up. She
took longer with this lock due to her trembling. Just as the
shackle released, a hot tear hit his flesh. He pulled her against
him.

She threw her arms around
him and buried her face in his neck. “I’m glad you are all right,
Bernon. And I am sorry I lost my temper. I would not have done so
if not for fear that we would be too late.”

“
I will
never hit you,
ma belle,”
he said, lightly stroking her back as her tears
scalded his flesh. He couldn’t believe the fear he sensed in her
tiny form. “I have already told you this.”

“
When?” she asked and
sniffed.

“
When I carried you back to
our chamber after dinner. You drank too much wine and had trouble
walking.” He nudged up her chin.

“
I do not remember much
after we sat down to dine,” she confessed as a pink tint swept
across her cheeks.

“
Bernon, I appreciate the
fact that you want to comfort your wife,” Matilda said. “But I want
William to comfort me before someone with a sword comes and chops
off his head. So would you release him before I lose my unfortunate
temper?”

“
Let go of my neck, my
dear, so I can loose King William and Geno.” Bernon set Barwolf on
the ground then quickly freed the other men. He looked around for
his bride and found her trying to push Sarlic over. “What are you
doing?”

“
Getting
your dagger back.” She suddenly stopped and slapped a palm against
her brow, “Oh
zut!
I killed two men and I am not sorry! I’m going to burn in
hell for all eternity because I am not sorry!” She wiped
frantically at tears gushing down her cheeks with the sleeve of her
frock then wrapped her arms around herself and began chanting, “I
am valuable, rare, and precious. I am valuable, rare, and precious.
I am...”

Matilda pushed Bernon in
the back, urging him toward Barwolf. “Bernon, she did this the
other day after she immobilized Balen and Damon. That litany keeps
going. Get her and follow me, so we can leave before we are found
out. The pigs upstairs are occupied with the nooning meal, but I do
not trust swine.”

Bernon crossed the
chamber, removed the dagger from Sarlic, and slipped the blade into
the empty sheath on his
braiel
. Then he picked up Barwolf.
She clung to him as he followed Matilda and the others down a long
corridor passing at least ten empty cells. “I am valuable, rare,
and precious. I am valuable rare, and precious. I am valuable,
rare, and precious.”

“
You are brave too,” Bernon
whispered in her ear.

She turned wide glistening
eyes to his. “I am?”

“
Aye. You
yelled at a bear, and then you removed his chains. Don’t break down
on me now,
ma petite.
Wait until the danger is passed.”

They arrived at the end of
the corridor, and Matilda halted, a puzzled frown marring her brow.
“We have come the wrong way. Let’s go back.”

Barwolf glanced up. “Nay,
you are right. I closed it. Bernon, let me down,
please.”

“
What did you close?” he
asked, setting her down.

“
Access to the maze. ‘Tis
the secret of Strangclyf.” She faced the small group. “Everyone
except Bernon must turn around. I may reveal the secret to no one
else.”

William, Matilda, and Geno
turned away. Barwolf walked to the end wall, slipped her fingers
along the left side of a stone, and pulled. After a few grunts
and
zuts,
the
stone’s face sprang open. She reached inside a hollowed out area
and released a lever. A portion of the wall to her left opened
inward with a grinding noise. Then she closed the stone and turned
around. “’Tis dark, so everyone hold hands and do not wander. Wait
for me just inside the entrance.”

“
I will enter after you,”
Bernon said as the others filed into the passage.

“
Then give me your hand.”
Barwolf placed her hand in his and pulled him in behind her.
“Bernon, put your hand on my shoulder, so I can close the
access.”

Bernon placed his hand on
her shoulder. She opened a compartment in the stone wall and pulled
a lever. The entrance scraped shut, throwing the area into pitch
darkness.

“
Hold onto each other and
do not let go for any reason. We are in a labyrinth, and you will
be hard to find if you get lost. These passages are littered with
the bones of people who thought the maze was a simple set of
passageways.”

Bernon’s hand remained on
her shoulder, and she placed her fingers over his then led them
through twists and turns that seemed to ascend and descend in
various places. She finally halted and removed her hand from his.
The sound of a lever flipping preceded a scraping noise as the wall
opened to a dimly lit chamber.

“
We are at the heart of the
maze. You can let go of each other. Please stamp your feet, so you
do not track the maze dirt onto my lord’s clean marble floor.”
After they were all out of the passage, Barwolf turned an
ornamental carving on the wall, and the doorway closed. “Come, eat
and drink. Then I will tell Bernon the secret, so you may save your
men.”

“
They are alive then?”
Bernon asked.

Barwolf nodded. “Aye. We
have no lions like the Romans once did, so Hadwyn awaits
reinforcements from Orlege before confronting them. There is food
on the dais, so come and eat.”