Warrior’s Redemption (30 page)

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Authors: Melissa Mayhue

BOOK: Warrior’s Redemption
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Rauf had already disappeared by the time Dani climbed into the wagon and with him all traces of the opening in the wall had disappeared as well.

Dani shifted the blankets she sat upon, attempting to make them more comfortable, but the long lump underneath her didn’t give. A peek under the woolen confirmed that she sat upon Malcolm’s sword and scabbard. If they were to have any chance at all, she’d have to pass the weapon to him quickly once he was out of his hiding place. Though, in truth, all she could envision was six men using him for target practice the instant he tried to stand.

“Hang in there, love,” she whispered, knowing he couldn’t hear her but feeling better for having said it anyway.

“Orabilis is a fair odd little woman,” Christiana began, speaking loudly as if for an audience. “Living out in her little hut all by herself. So old and wizened that many call her witch. But I ken her to be wise and kind and loving, so it matters no to me what others call her. Oh! Here is our escort now.”

Dani leaned around the barrel to see the men who would accompany them, the thought of how screwed they were flooding back as the guards came into view.

There were six of them, three lining up on each side of the cart as it began to roll forward.

Six. All large and foul-tempered from the looks of them.

“Ulfr made no mention of the other ladies accompanying you on yer journey today, Mistress Christiana.”

The guard riding next to the front of the cart appeared to be the man in charge.

“I dinna seek permission of Ulfr to take my new sister to meet the woman who cared for me after my own mother’s death. It’s our lord, Torquil, who would grant such a boon. Do you care to delay us, and bother him, to question what he might have ordered?”

“No, Mistress,” the guard responded quickly, his face paling. “We’ll no bother our lord with such as this. Move out!”

Dani released the breath she’d been holding, daring to hope for the first time that they might actually make it outside the walls of Tordenet Castle.

Passing through the long, narrow tunnel, the guards were forced to take positions three in front and three in back of the cart. Dani made use of the filtered light and the distance of the guards to dig her fingers into the air-blocking plug to work it from the hole in the barrel. When it gave way to her frantic efforts, she was certain the gasp for air she heard was not her imagination.

“Do you feel that,” Elesyria sighed aloud, her face tilted toward the sun as the heavy iron gates clanged down behind them. “It’s as if I am born again.”

“Aye, my lady,” the guard riding nearest her agreed. “It’s a right fair day for this time of year.”

The next couple of hours passed slowly, each jog and bounce of the wagon reminding Dani of how cramped and uncomfortable Malcolm must be in his hiding spot. The idle chatter passing between Elesyria and Christiana weighed heavily on her nerves. How could they babble on comparing one herb to another when there appeared to be no way to overpower the men who effectively held them captive?

Not even Malcolm could possibly take down all six. Especially not after having spent hours cramped into an uncomfortable squat. He’d be lucky to stand on his own two feet, let alone try to engage in battle.

“Pull up here, dear,” Elesyria suggested brightly. “Just inside the trees. I’ve a need to stretch my legs.”

Dani looked up from her worries to find the land had changed as they’d traveled from flat and brush-covered to hilly and, just ahead, heavily forested.

“This is no a good spot for us to—” the guard who had begun to protest stopped, his jaw dropping slack and his eyes glazing over.

“That’s a good boy,” Elesryia complimented, climbing over into the back of the cart. “What say we pop the lid on our floured warrior. These gents won’t have anything to say about it.”

All too true, Dani realized, looking around the circle of guards. Each of them wore the same expression, as if they’d gone to sleep with their eyes open.

Together she and Elesryia managed to pry the lid from the barrel. Once freed, Malcolm wasted little time
in climbing from his confinement, though Dani was sure his legs must be cramping him something awful.

“Battered warrior, I should have said.” Elesyria dusted her hands together, stepping back to put space between herself and the barrel. “Should have realized dry flour and wet warrior would not a good combo make.”

Even covered in the dusty goo that clung to his skin and hair, Malcolm looked wonderful to Dani. Too wonderful to postpone any longer the kiss she’d wanted.

Rising on her tiptoes, she fastened her hands around his neck and pulled his head down until their lips met.

With a possessive growl, he pulled her close, delivering a kiss that didn’t disappoint until he pulled away.

“We’ve no the time we need for that now, love.”

“The six of you lads, into the cart now. Sit with your backs together like good boys.” The Faerie beside them smiled brightly as she jumped from the cart to climb up into the saddle of the nearest recently vacated saddle. “We’ll be needing these.”

“Yer an Elf,” Christiana stated admiringly from her perch at the front of the cart. “But no exactly an Elf.”

“Faerie,” Elesyria confirmed. “Much better than Elf, to my way of thinking. Come on with the lot of you. Who knows how long we have before someone thinks to come looking for us?”

Malcolm strapped on his sword and confirmed Dani’s suspicions of his physical state by allowing her to help him from the cart.

Once mounted, he scanned the horizon as if getting his bearings for where they were.

“How long will they be like that?” he asked, motioning toward the catatonic guards.

Elesryia shrugged. “Hours at the very least. Maybe a day or more. I’ve been shut off from my Magic long enough for its results to be uncertain.”

Malcolm nodded, clearly already planning their next move. “We ride south, under the cover of forest as far as we can.”

Dani mounted the horse next to his after assuring herself he would be all right. She’d simply have to trust in his ability to judge his own strength.

Christiana unhooked the horses that had pulled the cart, sending them off with a slap to the lead animal before climbing up onto one of the guards’ mounts.

“Just in case,” she said with a frown. “No point in making it easy for them to return for help.”

No point, indeed.

With one last look back at the vacant stares of the guards, Dani leaned low over her horse’s neck, racing to keep pace with her companions as they made their escape.

T
hirty-seven

E
XCITEMENT BUBBLED IN
Torquil’s chest, almost like in the days of his childhood when his father had returned from some journey bearing gifts for him. Except that today, he was giving the gift to himself.

He measured his steps, keeping his pace under control, refusing to give in to the giddy need to hurry as he strode the hall toward Danielle’s chamber, Ulfr at his side.

He’d envisioned her reaction to the news he carried of her husband’s “death” a hundred times since early morning. Now, at long last, he’d have the pleasure of living what so far had been only a fantasy in his imagination.

An accident, of course. A fall from the highest battlements in a misguided attempt to escape, the body too mangled for viewing by one with such delicate sensibilities as she.

Stepping between the guards stationed at either side of her door, Torquil filled his lungs and exhaled, striving to achieve the proper balance of emotions the grieving widow would expect before he knocked.

His knock went unanswered.

She dared ignore him?

After the second unanswered knock he stepped to one side, signaling for his men to gain him entry. With their battery, the door swung open and he stormed inside.

Empty.

He strode to the adjoining chamber, amazed to find it empty as well.

“What’s the use of setting a guard if they sleep on the job?” His anger laced the words as he’d intended.

“We have not slept, my lord,” one guard asserted, his voice shaking. “As you ordered, no one has come or gone from the chamber since the good ladies returned early this morning.”

“I’ve had two sets of guards alternate,” Ulfr added. “I do not doubt their word.”

“And yet the chamber is empty,” Torquil murmured to himself, making a slow sweep of the first chamber.

If the guards told the truth, how could he possibly explain this?

He paused in front of the fireplace, his eyes drawn upward to the rune carvings there. Centered above all, the
ansuz,
his father’s symbol, Odin’s rune.

A closer scan disclosed a fine, dusty powder on the hearth at his feet. As if something long closed had been opened.

Damn!

He’d forgotten these had been the chambers shared by his father and his Tinkler whore. It would only make sense his father would have built in one of the ridiculous hidden passageways the old fool had loved so much.

But the entries to the passageways were so well disguised, if a person didn’t know how to gain access, it could take hours to open, even if one knew where to look. Only someone familiar with this particular room, this particular passageway, could possibly utilize it.

“Has Christiana yet left for her visit to the witch?”

“Hours past, my lord,” Ulfr assured him. “My men made mention of it at the guard change.”

Clever lass, his sister. Or it would appear she thought herself clever. But not clever enough by half, as she would soon learn.

“Did she travel alone?”

“I will find out for you, my lord.”

If indeed Christiana thought to rescue her new sister, it seemed unlikely she would have left her beloved brother behind.

Ulfr had reached the hallway when Torquil called out.

“No. You will accompany me. Send one of yer men to verify and bring word to the dungeon. Have my brother sent as well. I’ve use for him.”

A frisson of anger sparked through Torquil’s body and he increased the speed of his steps.

They thought to outmaneuver him? He was so far beyond their level, they had no idea what penalty they would pay for their impudence.

Had she stayed in her room, Mistress Danielle would have been only a pretend widow. Now she would be one in truth.

T
hirty-eight

A
S USUAL IN
his life, the gods were having their amusement at his expense.

Malcolm glanced over his shoulder as he rode, needing a quick check on his companions to reassure himself they still followed. He’d spent the better part of his life in the saddle, leading men from one crisis to another, but this was an entirely different experience. How did one even begin to travel with a gaggle of women in tow? Strong women, to be sure, but women nevertheless.

Yes, the gods must be laughing at their latest ploy. Choose the one man in the whole of the world who repeatedly failed the women he was given to protect and surround him with a company of women to lead. And not just any women, mind you, but the three women who meant more to him than his own life.

He reined in his horse and, behind him, the women slowed as well. Circling back to join them, he made his decision.

“We’ll set up camp here for the night. We’ve a strong lead on any who might follow and this looks to be an easily defendable location.”

He would have commented on the exhaustion he saw in their faces, but he felt sure that would have gained him only their denials. As it was, they hastened to act on his suggestion with nary a protest between them.

“We’ve little in the way of provisions, only what I would normally carry on a day visit to Orabilis, but it should be enough for this night.” His sister pulled a small pack from her animal and joined Elesyria, who already led her mount to tether in the trees.

He dismounted and fell in step beside Dani, a peace settling over him as she reached out to clasp his hand.

“Stop worrying. They probably don’t even know we’re gone yet.”

“I’m no worried,” he automatically denied, even as she smiled up at him.

“You’re doing that thing again, pinching your nose. Either you’re worried or your skin is starting to crack with all that dried flour coating it.”

He loved that she’d learned so very quickly to read him so well and best of all, that even when she knew she was right, she allowed him his dignity, in giving him an escape from the truth.

Pulling her close, he kissed her soundly, laughing aloud when she pushed him away.

“Okay. Officially now, the only thing worse than several days’ growth of beard is having dried dough caked in the beard. You need a bath. Real bad.”

“Then a bath I shall have, love, as soon as I see to the animals so that the three of you can set about building a fire.”

The stream would be sheer misery with the cold, but it mattered not. He needed this crackling mess off of him. Perhaps, if his luck held, he’d even come back with a fish or small animal to add to their night’s meager bounty.

“W
HAT AILS THEM?

Without dismounting, Torquil reached toward the men in the cart, ignoring the young guard who’d spoken. A sparkle of power bit at his hand, sizzling its way up his arm before he could pull back.

Irritating, to be sure, but harmless. Magic with a flavor he did not recognize.

“Interesting,” he murmured, anxious to test it again.

He rounded the cart, studying the men sitting inside. They appeared to be asleep with their eyes open, frozen in motion and time.

Now that he’d felt the Magic, he judged a response and pushed his hand through the barrier once more, ignoring the sizzle to clasp the nearest man’s shoulder. With a thought, his own power pulsed toward the man, sending a shower of sparks into the air surrounding him when the two Magicks met. The shower spread until it encompassed all six men in the cart and gradually they began to move.

“It’s the witch,” the young guard declared, backing his mount away.

“No,” Torquil corrected. “The witch hasn’t the power for this.” At least not the witch they knew of. Orabilis was far too weak to have had any part in this.

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