Sworn Loyalty - A Medieval Romance (19 page)

She smiled. “I know you will.”

Lynessa’s voice called from outside, imperious, demanding. “Where are our horses?”

Michael’s eyebrow rose, but his voice was placid as he called out, “Coming, M’Lady.” He pushed open the door and moved into the bright sunshine, leading the two steeds.

Mary stayed in the shadows, but she could not help gazing out through the glowing rectangle of space to look for Erik. There he was, his blond hair glistening in the sun, his sturdy build seemingly prepared to take on any enemy. He stood alongside Lynessa, who was elegantly garbed in a close-fitting dress of rich purple.

His eyes swept to Michael, and then past, and for a moment Mary felt that he was staring directly at her. The connection was palpable, and she put a hand to her chest, drawing in a deep breath, her body tingling with life.

Then Lynessa was taking his arm, leading him toward the horses, and he was gone again. The absence was like the darkest shadow crossing over her soul. It was all she could do to turn to the back door, slip through it, and make her way to the keep.

As Michael had said, the kitchen crew was ready for her with a half-barrel of rose-scented bath water and a small jar of wood ash soap. They had rigged up a ring of curtains to shield her, and she dutifully moved within, scrubbing away the dirt and grime of the past week. She lingered for a while, soaking in the bliss of the warm water and the delicate scents. Then at last she dried herself off and donned a long chemise.

Her team had been busy. A newly sewn dress of deep crimson awaited her, even more revealing than the one she had worn until now. She shook her head as she pulled it on. Hopefully it would be just for this one afternoon, just enough to draw the men into taking any risk, indulging any whim. This one afternoon, and it would all be over.

She took the small, spiral stairs in the corner down into the basement. She was in the storage area – boxes of cheese, crates of wine, and a plethora of other supplies surrounded her on all sides. She wended her way through them to the front half of the level. She knew this open area would be where they would be gambling.

She pushed open the door.

There was a hush, and the entire room of men turned to stare at her. There was a large round table at the center of the torch-ringed room, with eight stools pulled up around it. Bronson and Sander were side by side, facing six of her men, including Michael. Another twenty or so soldiers were standing and sitting around the group, drinking mugs of ale or eating loaves of bread.

They all stared at her, eyes round, mouths agape.

Mary flushed. It was one thing to dress this way, act this way, in a seedy bar where none knew her. It was quite another to be a harlot within her own home.

In order to keep Erik from determining her true mission, the keep’s staff had been told nothing. They had simply been asked to call her Mary again and to treat her as a visiting singer. They had trusted in her. They had done as she had requested without question.

She wondered what they were thinking now.

Bronson and Sander recovered first, launching to their feet and dragging over a chair to seat her between them. Mary headed over to them, and Bronson shook his head while he looked her up and down.

“I thought you were gorgeous before, Mary, but now you are a goddess,” he stated with certainty. “You stay here right by me.”

Sander spoke up. “And by me,” he chimed in. “We will make sure you have everything you could possibly need.” He pushed a mug of mead before her as she sat.

Michael’s eyes were shadowed, but he nodded to her as he brought his attention back to the table.

Mary looked at the cards and the piles of coin before each man. It looked like they were already well underway – the stacks before Bronson and Sander showed their success thus far.

Good. It would lure them into the trap.

Michael spoke up. “I believe it was your hand, Bronson.”

Mary leant back in her chair, taking a long drink of her mead. She knew her job well enough. She was to flirt with the men, encourage them to bet, and make it clear just how impressed she was with their skill.

Anything to drive them to raiding Lynessa’s storehouse of wealth.

Mary lost all sense of time as the cards were shuffled, the coins were moved, and her men changed places at the table as their luck ran out. There were no windows in the basement, only the flickering of the torches and the coming and going of maids with more ale or food. She cheered with delight when Bronson won a hand, and encouraged him to try again when luck went against him. The piles before Bronson grew, and the avarice glowing in his eyes became a steady beacon.

It seemed no time at all before it had come down to just Bronson and Michael. Michael had an impressive collection of coins before him, and Bronson was practically drooling at the sight. He made a quick tally of his own stash, then turned to murmur to Sander.

“We don’t have enough here. Do you have any more?”

Sander shook his head. “Everything I own is on the table.”

Bronson pressed his lips into a thin line. “We are so close ...”

Mary leant against him, tenderly wrapping her fingers around his arm. “But surely, you said that there were other funds available to you? In times of emergency?”

Bronson’s eyes flicked furtively to the side. “We aren’t supposed to touch that,” he growled.

Mary patted his arm soothingly. “You won’t be touching it, not really,” she assured him. “You will just borrow it for five minutes, maybe ten minutes at the most. Then it goes right back where it belongs. And you own every item of value in this room.”

Bronson drew in a deep breath, his face nearly glowing with desire. “Does that include you?”

Mary’s breath caught, but she forced herself to nod. “Of course it does,” she promised him. “You will be the wealthiest man for miles. Who else would I want to be with?”

His eyes moved down her form, and his smile widened. He glanced for a moment at Sander. “You stay here and guard our winnings. Mary and I will go and fetch more funds.”

Sander’s face darkened in jealousy. “Why do you get to go with her?”

Bronson drew to his feet. “We can hardly leave her alone here, with these drunk, lecherous men,” he contested. “Besides, I know the technique better than you do. It could take long enough as it is, and time is of the essence. If Lynessa were to return –”

Sander’s frown deepened. “All right, all right,” he conceded. “Go get it, and be as quick as you can about it.”

Mary darted a glance at Michael. He gave her a nod, his eyes moving to the table. Mary held in a smile. It was all going as planned. As long as Michael could win the next few hands, disaster would crash down on Bronson and Sander. Once Lynessa came home, no matter where they had their “discussion”, Mary would be sure to be there, with Michael and Erik in tow. She knew every in and out of this keep.

Bronson turned, and she dutifully went at his side, first up the main stairs into the central hall, then up the back stairs toward the bedrooms. He glanced around cautiously, but there was no one in sight. Mary smiled. She knew Michael had been explicit with the staff in leaving this floor completely empty for the afternoon. There would be no interruptions in what Bronson was about to do.

Bronson nodded, satisfied that they were alone, then he pressed open the door. They stepped through, and then Bronson closed it firmly behind them. He strode with determination to the largest chest, unlocked it with a key from his belt, and quickly but carefully removed each item from it, placing them in a row to the left. Once the chest was empty, he knelt before it, staring at the front face.

Mary sat at his side, her face aglow with curiosity. “Now what do you do?”

He motioned to a pair of knots located to the right of the lock. “It has to do with these.”

He put a hand on each knot. He leant his ear against the face of the chest and began slowly turning the knots. The right one moved clockwise, while the left one rotated counter-clockwise.

Mary’s heart pounded in her chest. She wanted with every fiber of her being to take over for him, to break into the chest herself. He was taking an eternity, muttering and grumbling as he went. She had trained at this very task for months on end. If only she had known -

She reigned in her impatience. She did not want to interfere with him, not now when they were so close. If anything, it would be perfect if Lynessa returned while he was breaking into her stash. The fallout might be exactly what Mary craved.

There was the softest of clicks.

The inner floor of the chest rose, and Bronson smiled in satisfaction. “Here we go.”

He reached forward with both hands and lifted off the false bottom. Mary gasped in surprise at what was revealed. She had known the coin was in there, of course, but she was still not prepared for the sight of so much wealth in neatly laid out rows of glistening metal. No wonder it had taken the two of them to lift the chest. It held the weight of not only the piles of Lynessa’s jewelry but also this hidden wealth lining its base.

Bronson’s eyes ran down the coins, calculating. “We’ll probably need these three rows,” he muttered. His gaze moved to a large ruby necklace, and his eyes gleamed for a moment. “In a few days, you’ll be back home with me, and I’ll dress you up proper,” he promised. “My mum will be right shocked to see how well her only son’s done.”

Mary’s brow furrowed. “I thought you had a brother, Arthur?”

He glanced over with sharp eyes. “Who told you that?”

Mary paled. Where had she heard the story? She hadn’t even seen Bronson until he arrived here at the keep. Except, of course, for the two brief times he had been at Avoca’s Folly …

Her breath caught. That is where she had heard about Arthur. Sander had made a comment implying that Bronson’s brother had committed suicide.

She swallowed. “I … I imagine Caradoc must have said something,” she stuttered. “I’m sorry, is it a sore topic?”

His gaze was piercing. “It is never spoken of,” he growled. “Never.”

Mary dropped her eyes. “Of course. I apologize.”

She could feel Bronson’s eyes still on her, and when his voice came, it had a sharp edge to it. “Well, once we have all this money, we can afford to light a candle for his soul. As you might for your dear departed Grandma?”

Mary nodded. Thank goodness, he was going to accept her slip as an understandable mistake. There was still a chance that the afternoon could play out the way she had planned.

She gave a sigh of relief. “Of course, we can light candles for our loved ones,” she agreed. “I would like that.”

There was a long moment of silence. At last he said, “Well, then, we need to get this money tucked away. Why don’t you grab a few of those leather sacks and we’ll get started.”

Mary gave him a warm smile. She turned to the right, reaching for the items.

A solid blow landed on the back of her head. The world shimmered, disintegrated, and ebony stillness swallowed her whole.

Chapter 14

Mary’s head ached with liquid pain, and her stomach roiled as if it had discovered a way to digest itself from the inside out. The world swayed and swirled around her. She blinked her eyes open, but her vision remained pitch dark. Baffled, she went to raise a hand to her head – but it came up short, tied in place with a sturdy rope. She began to roll to a sitting position, but her shoulders and legs met solidly with a wooden frame.

Her world gave a jolt, there was a whinny, and suddenly the pieces connected together.

She was wedged into the chest. She was being transported somewhere on a wagon whose every moment jostled her sorely.

Her heart pounded against her ribs. How long had she been unconscious? Who was kidnapping her? Did Michael and Erik know what had happened?

She kicked solidly at the chest’s wall, hoping beyond hope that they were still within the courtyard. Her mouth was gagged with a thick cloth, but she screamed through it with all her might.

The wagon came to a stop.

The lid was lifted, and a brilliant orange sunset blinded her with its focused glow. She blinked furiously against it. A shadow fell across her, and Bronson’s face came into focus. He seemed amused, and he reached a hand out to stroke her cheek. She flinched back, but there was nowhere to go. He grinned at that, letting his hand linger on her skin for a moment before giving a shrug.

“Guess we’re nearly there anyway,” he mused. “And Lynessa wants you good and healthy before we start the fun.”

A shaft of fear shot through Mary. She struggled to a seated position, looking around her. She did not recognize the stretch of woods around her. Clearly they had gotten quite a distance from the keep since she had been rendered senseless.

Why had Michael not sent out troops to find her? Surely the keep’s men could have overtaken this slow wagon without much effort.

Bronson grinned at her confusion, then turned and gave a shake to the reins. The wheels creaked into motion again, and when the slender path turned a corner Mary could see a small stream up ahead. A horse was standing in the gentle cascade of water, with two lanky teen boys mounted on it. They gave a wave as the wagon pulled to a stop next to them.