Dragonblade Trilogy - 02 - Island of Glass (23 page)

 Later, in hindsight, Kenneth
would curse himself for not being at the gates to inspect the people passing to
and fro. He would have recognized Aubrielle, disguised in a heavy peasant cloak
and carrying a huge bundle of reeds she had pulled from the fish pond near the
castle kitchens. She looked like a dirty, frightened farm girl.  It was,
truthfully, a clever disguise and no one questioned the small young woman
leaving the gates.  If only Kenneth could have suspected she would resume her
escape attempts, to know how badly he had hurt her, he could have been there to
stop her.

But that was the furthest thing
on his mind. He was obsessively focused on Lucius, to right the wrongs that he
had created. Aubrielle had been correct in every way and he harbored a huge
amount of guilt that he had allowed himself to treat Lucius with special
consideration. He did not blame Reid in the least for his advice; the decision
was his burden alone. Reid, in fact, did not say a word when they cornered
Lucius in the knights’ quarters.  He obeyed Kenneth’s orders flawlessly.  When
Lucius resisted, Everett seemed to take distinct pleasure in roughing him up.
That seemed to provoke Lucius into more violence and Kenneth found himself
subduing his superior officer.

They took the captain to the
vault. Much to Lucius’ discredit, he kicked and fought the entire way.  What
should have been a discreet arrest was a public spectacle and the whole of Kirk
was in an uproar because of it. The gossip flew.

 In the vault, Lucius loudly
proclaimed his innocence. That was natural considering he did not remember
anything about the attack. Kenneth had no doubt that the man believed he was
wrongly targeted, a victim of his new lady’s hatred.  But when he started
spouting insults directed at Aubrielle, the knights on the other side of the
cell grate could see, without a doubt, how much bitterness and resentment their
captain harbored against her. If there had been any doubts in their mind as to
who the culprit had been in the first assault, those doubts were erased.

There was no question in
Kenneth’s mind what needed to be done. He did not even offer it up for
discussion as he had before. The knights knew that, at sunrise the next
morning, Lucius would face his ultimate punishment for his attack against the
lady of Kirk Castle. Now it was Lucius’ last night on earth and the knights
vacated the vault, leaving Lucius to his own morbid thoughts.

***

Though no one knew the charges,
rumors flew like wild fire on the cause and consequences of Captain le Cor’s
arrest. Some said that he had made an attempt on the new countess’ life; other
said that he had made an attempt on Kenneth’s life. Still others said he had
tried to desecrate the earl’s grave in a fit of grief. No matter what the
reasons, the fact remained that Lucius le Cor was now housed in the cramped
vault of Kirk’s gate-tower and the entire castle was in shock.

Shock faded to wariness and fear.
No one had suspected there was trouble within the ranks, a worrisome thought
now that the earl was dead. Perhaps the knights were embroiled in a power
struggle. In fact, the reaction to Lucius’ arrest was exactly as Kenneth had
feared; the vassals of Kirk were unbalanced in the wake of Mortimer’s passing
and the added disruption of Lucius’ capture only heightened the apprehensive
ambience. Hearing Lucius’ screams of protest as he was carried into the vault
was as bad as it could have possibly been.

 Eventually, the news reached the
injured in the great hall.  Athelred and Thomas overheard the servants and
other soldiers as they discussed the captain’s capture. Soon the whispers were
picked up by the wounded, passed from man to man like a great dark secret. De
Gaul’s two men remained largely silent as the rumors flew, gleaning as much
information as they could out of several different versions of the story.  But
one thing was for certain; it could a very bad situation for them both.

“Le Cor,” Athelred repeated
slowly. “Isn’t that…?”

“It is,” Thomas hissed. “Perhaps
they are on to his plot. Perhaps that is why he was arrested.”

“If that is true, then he will
tell them of us,” Athelred’s fear was evident. “We must get to him before he
can point to us.”

“How? He is in the vault.”

Athelred thought a moment. He
wasn’t the brightest man, but he was devious. Fending for himself nearly all of
his life had taught him that.

“I will go outside and watch the
gatehouse,” he said quietly. “Mayhap there will be an opportunity to get into
the vault. Guards do not normally post inside the vault, but at the gatehouse
itself. Mayhap I can slip past the guard.”

“Go, then,” Thomas was feeling
his concern; he was reckless with it. “Release him or kill him, I care not. But
he cannot name us.”

Athelred nodded, cautiously
slipping from the hall when he was sure there would be no one to see him.  It
wasn’t an easy task, especially since it took him through the main entrance to
the keep, but he managed to leave unnoticed because of the general chaos going
on as a result of le Cor’s arrest. No one was paying attention to a lone man.
Driven by panic, he pushed forward.

The gatehouse was protected, but
the soldiers were distracted. The knights had left to go about their duties,
leaving less-professional subordinates to man the gatehouse and the main
gates.  Peasants passed in and out, vendors with daily produce and commoners
from the nearby village transacting business within the massive walls. The
soldiers, when they weren’t talking about le Cor’s arrest, were inspecting the
surfs, and especially the women. When two of the guards focused on a
particularly buxom woman, Athelred saw an opportunity to slide into the
gatehouse and he swiftly took it.

The vault was surprisingly empty.
A servant with a fat belly and little hair was on the narrow stairwell,
refreshing the torches that lit the dank passage, but he said nothing as Athelred
moved past him. At the bottom of the steps, Athelred slipped on the green slim
that coated the stone and nearly fell on his face. Recovering swiftly, and
hoping he wasn’t followed, he ventured further into the dungeon.

Le Cor wasn’t difficult to find.
He was still grousing in the cell to the left. Athelred clutched the iron bars.

“M’lord,” he whispered loudly.

Lucius caught sight of him and
rushed the bars. “You!” he reached the through the bars as Athelred stumbled
back, out of his reach. “What have you told them?”

Athelred shook his head.
“Nothing, m’lord. By what charge do you come to this place?”

Lucius hung on the bars, insane
with fear and mistrust. But the dark eyes cooled as he struggled to gain
control. “You’ve said nothing?”

“No, m’lord. I have not spoken to
anyone. Neither has my companion. We’ve done nothing, I swear it.”

Lucius’ jaw ticked, spittle on
his lips. He licked it away, the crazed look fading from his eyes.  With both
hands, he rattled the bars. “Then get the key, fool. Let me out of here.”

Athelred looked around, but there
was no key to be found. The bars, however, were on hinges and using an iron
sconce he ripped from the wall, Athelred leveraged the grate so that the hinges
disengaged. The bars were heavy and it took both Lucius and Athelred to lower
them to the stone floor, carefully, so it would make no noise.  Now that he was
free, Lucius panicked expression returned.

“I must get out of this place,”
he said. “You must help me.”

“What would you have me do?”

Lucius thought quickly. He knew
this place, and he knew the guards. He waved his hands in the direction of the
stairs. “Go and create a diversion. Move the guards away from the gate. I must
escape.”

“How will I distract them?”

“Think of something, idiot.”

The fat servant who had been
refreshing the torches picked that moment to descend the stairs. Lucius grabbed
the man and snapped his neck. Yanking off his clothing, he quickly swathed
himself in the ragged clothes of the peasant. The final touch was to wrap the
man’s shirt around his head, covering his hair and partially covering his
features.

He shoved Athelred in the
direction of the steps. “Go, now. Do this for me.”

Although Athelred‘s original intent
had been to kill Lucius before he could tell anyone of their murderous plot, he
was not a natural leader. He tended to follow orders because he was used to
doing so, especially in de Gaul’s legion. Now, Lucius was giving orders and
Athelred would instinctively follow.

He raced up the steps, planning
the diversion as he went. Lucius was behind him, his eyes open for guards or
any other threats that might linger in the gatehouse. Athelred paused at the
top of the stairs, motioning for Lucius to stay low.  So far, it was still
empty, but there was activity outside in the passage. He turned to Lucius.

“There are more of us in the
forest,” he whispered loudly. “If you make it out of here, run to the trees.
You will find us to the south.”

Lucius wasn’t surprised to hear
that. Bandits lingered everywhere outside civilized walls. “You will make it
there, also. We must re-think our plans on the countess. Will your brethren be
with us?”

Athelred lifted a bushy eyebrow;
if le Cor only knew the truth. “Indeed they will. Perhaps… perhaps we will not
kill the lady, after all. Perhaps we should simply take her for a prize. We
have use for a lady like her.”

“I care not. As long as she is
removed from Kirk never to return.”

Athelred was very good at playing
a loud, loathsome drunk, just long enough so that the two guards watching the
open gate had to physically pick him up and remove him. By the time they threw
him out of the gates, Lucius was on the road leading from Kirk and putting more
distance behind him with every step.

As long as she is removed from
Kirk never to return….

The plan was taking shape.

CHAPTER
NINE

It was sup before anyone had an
inkling of Lady Aubrielle’s absence. The toothless serving wench was the first
to suspect it, and she passed the information along to the majordomo. The
small, efficient man went to the lady’s chamber, completely inspected it and
the rest of the keep before racing personally to the knight’s quarters. Much
was amiss at Kirk these days and this latest event would only serve to stir the
bedlam. Everett was the only knight he could find and the two of them went in
search of Kenneth.

They found him in the armory
going over the inventory of weapons lost during the brief siege against the
Welsh two days prior.  Historically, Kenneth tended to drown himself in duties
when he was feeling particularly moody or frustrated. This afternoon had seen
both moods. Inventorying the crossbows and hammers kept him from running to Aubrielle
like a fool and begging her forgiveness. He was ashamed he had put himself in a
position where such a thing was necessary. He wondered if she would ever
forgive him.  All he could see was the look on her face when she realized he
had inadequately protected her and he knew it was something that would haunt him
the rest of his life.

Everett’s news drained the color
from his face. They could all see it. Kenneth knew where she had gone, and he
further knew that a search of the castle would prove futile. There was only one
place Aubrielle would go. He ordered the chargers brought around and sent
Everett to gather a small party of armed men.  Without waiting for the search
party, he mounted his charger and took off on his own.

His mind was whirling as he raced
from the gates. He was fully cognizant that he was without his armor or
weapons, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was that he found Aubrielle
before something horrible happened to her. He struggled to calm himself, full
of fear and anger, and tried to think as she would. She was clever, he knew,
and he further knew that once her absence was discovered that Kenneth would set
out looking for her. She would not stay upon the open road. She would take to
the woods.

He reined his horse off the road
and into the bramble. It was the same area where he had first seen Aubrielle
and chased her into the woods.  He remembered the hunt, the head-butting, and
the thought made him smile. It also made his heart ache for her more. He reined
his horse to a halt just before entering the woods and dismounted.

He was trying to pick up her
trail. He stood at the edge of the tree-line, looking for broken grass or
anything that suggested a path into the woods.  It was growing dark and he knew
that, very soon, it would be impossible to follow any trail. His heart began to
race.  Everett and several men came up behind him and he admonished them to
take care with the environment in case she had left a path to follow. The men
spread out, and began to search.

Kenneth entered the woods, dark
and spooky as night set. He could hear the others in the distance, hunting for
a trail that was no doubt several hours’ cold. He tried not to let his mind
wander, thinking of what could become of her and of how miserably he had failed
her. Kenneth had never failed at anything in his life up until the past few
days. Now, when it mattered most, he found himself inept. Odd how every measure
of training, every battle he had ever fought with flawless dedication suddenly
paled in comparison against Aubrielle’s needs. If he could only excel at being
a husband and father, it would be his proudest accomplishments. He wondered if
he would ever have the opportunity to tell her.