The Dark Lady (62 page)

“
How do you know this? And why have you not bloody damn well said anything before now?” Peter snapped. He was angry because Richard had come to him asking to be taken in, but he had not given him his full loyalty. He had kept things from him, important things.

Richard rubbed his temple as if a deep pain had started there. He dropped his hand and held Peter’s gaze. His eyes were apologetic. “Van told me of him, in case something was to happen to her. She said if I were ever to get a message from the drowning man I was to do whatever he said.” He shook his head. “I did not tell you of Verges because I made a promise to Van that I would tell no one of him.”

“
Why did you not tell us when you got that message?” Devon asked quietly.

Richard dropped his eyes. “I wanted to leave that to Van, but with her gone it is now left to me. I can only hope I am doing the right thing.”

Peter nodded in understanding and grasped his friend’s arm. Richard looked up at him and smiled weakly.

Peter did not like it. It still felt like a betrayal, but he reminded himself that he had known from the very beginning that Richard, and the men who came with him, were still loyal to the Dark Knight. The fact that
he
was now a
she
had not changed that. “Tell me what you know.”

“
Verges is high in the ranks of Eolian’s army and he will be the one in charge of Amy. Do not fear, Devon, he will not hurt her,” Richard assured him.

“
Not hurt her?” Peter exploded in disbelief. “How can you say that? I know what that man has done—the rapes and the murders. He cannot be trusted—” His words were cut short as he watched the color drain from Devon’s horrified face and he regretted his rash comments.

“
Nay. Listen to me.” Richard turned his gaze to Devon and grasped his arm. “Hear me well. He will not hurt her. Aye, he is violent and capable of all those things, but not with her.” Richard dropped his hand and his gaze moved from Peter to Devon and then back again. “Verges takes care of Van’s mistresses. He will not harm anyone who has her protection and aye, he can be trusted when it comes to Van and her wishes.”

Devon leaned forward. “How do you know?” he demanded, his voice a hopeful whisper.

“
I know because he has never hurt anyone whom she cares for. He would not betray her. He pledged his loyalty and his life to her when she risked herself to save him.”

Peter could understand the feeling. He knew what it was like to owe his life to her.

Richard turned his full attention to Peter and Peter saw the determination in his gaze, the forcefulness in his stance. “I understand your position, my lord. I have questioned his intentions, and his loyalties, from the beginning. Even though Van has always trusted him, I have not,” Richard said, with a growing smile. “But now I know his loyalty can be counted upon. He can be trusted.”

“
What makes you so sure now?” Peter asked carefully. He had seen the confidence on Richard’s face and that was enough for him. He trusted Richard’s judgment, but he was curious as to what had convinced him.

“
He knew.” Richard snorted a short bark of laughter. “He knew the whole time that she was a woman.”

Peter stared at him incomprehensively.

Richard smiled. “When she saved him she was hit by a log in the water and knocked unconscious. Van told me that when she regained her senses she was by a fire—without her clothes.”

Peter nodded. “If he was going to betray her, Eolian would have known she was a woman long before now.”

Richard nodded.

“
So we now have the problem of where Van has gone off to,” Peter said. His mind whirled with possibilities, but no answers came to him.

“
Do you think she left alone?” Grant asked.

Peter knew she would and that made his heart stop. He gasped for breath and felt a sharp pain as his heart lurched to a start again.

“
If she does not show with Melinda and the child, what will happen?” Devon asked, his voice was weak and lost. His eyes shimmered with tears that were held by the thinnest of threads of will power.

Richard sighed. “She will not go unprepared, she will have a plan. We just need to figure out where she went.”

Peter gestured for the men who had gathered to mount their steeds. He turned to tell Grant to gather the rest of the men when a movement caught his eye.

Joseph walked toward him with confidence, holding a black helm with a silver stallion emblazoned on its side.

CHAPTER 29

Van’s mind spun with excitement and worry as she walked away. When she heard Richard begin to read the parchment, she quickened her pace.

She had no intention of going to see the messenger as she had claimed. She knew who it would be, the same young boy who had brought the last message, and she knew he would know nothing beyond what he had told Richard.

Instead, she took the steps into the castle and headed for her chambers. She knew she had to get herself together as quickly as she could. She would not have much time before they realized she was gone and she needed a good sized lead before Peter followed.

The cabin where she had rescued Melinda was set in the midst of a wide meadow, in the center of a box canyon. It would be impossible to get in without being seen. The cliffs to the rear of the cabin were too steep to transverse and the meadow was too flat to hide anyone approaching from the front.

The only way she had gotten Melinda out was with the help of Verges. Eolian and his men were out to loot and plunder and Verges had brought her into the woods that hid the opening of the canyon. He had killed the two men who were keeping watch with him and told Eolian that Van’s men had come upon them in numbers too great to defeat.

Van had spread the word that she had come upon the cabin by accident and had not realized that it was occupied. Eolian seemed to believe it or at least had not suspected Verges, for he still continued to trust him.

Her arm throbbed painfully with each deep thrumming beat of her heart and her labored breathing was becoming bothersome. She cursed her weak body and tried to push the pain away so she could concentrate on the problems at hand.

She knew Eolian would be watching for her, but he would also have scouts out watching her back trail as well. He would assume she would have the men following her and she could only hope that Eolian’s scouts would give up and return with the news of a clear trail by the time Peter came through.

She moved silently through the castle, keeping her ears and eyes open she was prepared to hide quickly if need be. The halls were teeming with servants and soldiers and she could not risk being caught.

She knew there would be no way her overbearing husband would allow her to go on her own, and she would not put Amy at risk by sending someone in her place.

Eolian’s message played over and over in her mind. He had been specific that she came with just Mellie and the boy, who would now be two.

So she herself would go. That much was easy. How she was going to manage Mellie and her son she was still unsure, but she would worry about that when the time came.

She could not take Mellie even if she wanted to. She had no idea where Verges had hidden her and she would not put her in danger even if she did.

She clenched her fists tightly and pain shot up her arm. She thought of the last time she had seen Melinda’s young son. He had barely been walking. Her face tightened and she swore to herself that she would never allow that innocent boy to be corrupted by the man who had sired him.

Van heard footfalls of several men echoing along the hall not far ahead. She looked carefully behind her, and then ducked into a darkened alcove.

She held herself tight against the wall and peered around the corner. There were five men walking slowly. They stopped and knocked on a door. When there was no answer they entered. Soon they stepped out and began their walk again.

At the head of the group was Marshall VanDyke, the young boy who had been terrified of horses when he had first arrived. She watched him carefully taking in his slight frame, long blonde hair and almost delicate features. From a distance he might just pass for Melinda, she thought and smiled. Though she was not looking forward to telling him that.

She had heard good things about him. He was progressing nicely on horseback and his skill with the sword was unmatched among the boys the king had sent. According to Richard, he would soon be surpassing some of the men at arms.

Marshall might be just what she needed. She was just unsure of how to get him without arousing suspicion.

She tensed and waited. The men entered the next room. She held her breath. The ache in her arm had intensified and she could feel the heat baking off of her skin.

Closing her eyes, she released her breath in a small whistle then opened her eyes at the clicking of a door. She stole a look around the corner and sighed in relief. Marshall was now in the rear. He walked slightly behind the others.

She sent up a prayer that they would not see her and pressed herself as far into the shadows as she could. They passed by her.

Leaning out as Marshall walked past, she shot her hand out, clamping it around his mouth, and yanked him into the alcove.

He fought against her and she slammed him into the wall. “Shhhh,” she whispered.

He stopped struggling and stood silent.

She left her hand on his mouth and looked out. The men did not notice that Marshall was gone. They rounded a corner and disappeared from sight.

She released his mouth and waved him along. He followed silently and without question. She was relieved she did not have to make any explanations here in the hall.

She led him quickly to her chambers. The room still hung with powder and she had to step around broken shards of pottery.

“
Milady?” he said in a confused voice looking around at the mess of shattered jars and the thick layer of powder that covered everything.

She ignored him, pushing the door shut and wincing as shards crunched under it. She walked toward the dressing table.

“
Milady, is there something you—”

She began to unbutton the thick gown that swirled around her hips and Marshall’s voice stopped in a small screech.

Van dropped the gown and when she looked up it was to the young man’s back. She set her jaw obstinately and growled. “I do not have time for this, VanDyke.” She glanced around the room, quickly taking stock of what she would need. “There is a trunk in the corner. At the bottom are hose, tunic and boots.”

He started toward the trunk without question, but did not look at her.

“
There is a sword and a long black band of leather as well. Get them for me.” Van continued to remove her clothing without shame.

Hearing his gasp, she thought he had turned back to her nakedness, but when she looked at him he was still leaned over the trunk. There were dresses strung out across the floor and he had pulled the heavy chest plate out and laid it behind him.

She watched him as he stood. He turned toward her and held up the black helm with the silver destrier on it. He looked from it to her and this time did not seem to take notice the extent of her undress.

His face was bright with wonder and amazement. “You really are the Dark Knight, milady?” He looked confused and slightly alarmed. “Sir?”

“
Either is fine,” she said with a smile. “Just bring my clothing, then the sword and only the mail.” She took a deep breath. She would like to take the armor, but knew that it would just get in the way. “There is a blade in a short leather scabbard, get it for me as well.”

He approached cautiously and, with his eyes averted, held her clothing out to her. When she took them he turned back to the trunk.

Van found herself grateful for his respect, or his shyness. Whichever it might it be, it kept him from noticing the bright redness and the swelling in her arm.

She slid into her clothing and winced when it scraped painfully against her wound, but kept in the deep groan that begged to be released.

She took several deep breaths as she pulled on the long leather boots. She felt winded even dressing herself and began to question her ability to carry out her mission. She knew if she did not ride soon, she would not be able to.

Marshall returned with the heavy chain mail.

“
Put it on.” She was pleased when he did so quickly and without question. It made her mission easier without having to fight or explain her actions. She strapped the dagger scabbard around her thigh and pulled her dagger free. She looked at the glittering jewels in its hilt and shook her head.

She laid it on the dressing table. She did not want to risk losing it. She went through to Peter’s chambers and took one of his extra daggers from the drawer where he kept the key to her door.

When she returned, Marshall was standing waiting, with her sword held out to her.

She pushed her doubts away and strapped the sword’s scabbard around her waist cinching it tight across the tunic. Without the bindings she usually wore her breasts pressed against the tunic, stretching the material taunt. She no longer felt exposed and vulnerable as she had when her father had come to pick her up in Junket. She now felt a cool wave of freedom crash over her.