Heart's War (Heart and Soul) (25 page)

If the defenses fall, you will get out.

Forcing down her agony, she dragged herself toward the escape route, expecting hands to seize her at any moment. It seemed to take an eternity, but she reached the tapestry. Hauling herself to her knees, she fumbled with her keys and unlocked the door. She fell through and kicked it shut behind her. Darkness enveloped her, the sounds of fighting in the great hall dropped to a muted roar.

She tried to catch her breath but her
broken ribs tortured her. Agonizing pain settled deep in her belly. She ignored the lantern—trying to reach it would cause too much pain . . . take too much time. She dragged herself forward, working from memory to find the trap door.

Moments later
, she located it. She flung it open, swallowing hard, remembering the spiderwebs. She could see nothing in the darkness and could only hear the sound of her ragged breathing. She had to get out alive. She could not allow Brynmor to find her body broken and raped in the castle. Tears burned her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. “Brynmor, where are you?”

I need you to be strong for just a time more.

She reached for the top rung of the ladder. It felt as dry as kindling under her hand. She pulled herself forward but her injuries did not allow her to place her feet on the rung below. She slid forward and her lower body fell into the hole. Crying out in pain, she fought to grab another rung, but it snapped under her hand. With a sharp crack, the one she clung to also broke, and she fell screaming into the blackness.

Fear roared within Brynmor, but he forced it down, examining the clearing critically. His men waited in silence, hidden in the thick undergrowth. His gaze fell on the passage door hidden with brush and natural debris.

“She promised,”
he growled as one of his nobles crouched next to him. “She promised she would use this to escape if the castle fell.”

It had fallen. Despite the hard march
, they had not been able to reach Powys in time. Now Montgomery awaited him at camp and Brynmor was tasked with retaking his own keep using the tunnel. But Rose had not reached the safety of the woods. The debris hiding the door had not been disturbed and there were no footprints in the dirt.

“I know not what happened,” Alec said tightly. “But at least we have a way in.”

“Aye,” Brynmor said. He whistled through his teeth and his men emerged from the shadows. Night had fallen and they were not in clear view of the castle. “Light a single torch.”

One of his men did so and Brynmor hurried into the clearing, Alec and his men only a step behind. Brynmor removed the debris from the small wooden door and tried the latch.

“Locked,” he muttered. “And Rose has the keys.”

“We'll have to risk the noise.”

“Aye,” Brynmor said. He rose and kicked with all his might. The wood crumbled under his boot and he nearly fell into the hole.

Alec caught his arm and hauled him back. “The wood's rotted, my lord.”

He scowled. “I was just down here two months ago. I check it often; I know every inch by heart.”

“
’Tis the wet weather.” Alec crouched and picked up a piece of crumbling wood. Brynmor saw something larvae-like move and vanish into the wood. “And termites,” Alec finished.

Brynmor's eyes widened in horror. “Termites wouldn't stop with just the door.” He suddenly feared he knew the reason why Rose had not made it to the clearing. He
plunged into the hole.

“My lord
, be careful,” Alec whispered harshly.

Fortunately the ladder held
, although it creaked ominously. A few paces down, his feet hit solid ground. His man handed him the torch then Alec and the others followed. Brynmor hurried down the long tunnel, his worry over Rose pushing him faster. Finally, the narrow tunnel opened into a large underground room. Brynmor held the torch high, his eyes searching the darkness. He found the ladder that descended from the keep. His gaze stopped on a form lying still at its base.

His heart screamed in
denial but he uttered not a sound. His body shook uncontrollably. For a moment he couldn’t force himself to move.
Dear God, nay! Do not take her from me, please!

“Rose
,” he uttered her name as a soft growl, even though his entire being shouted it to the heavens. He handed the torch to Alec and ran to her side. Dried blood spattered the ground around her. He looked up, and in the dim light of the torch, he saw the broken rungs of the ladder high above.

“Nay,” he whispered
, caressing her face with a shaking hand. She could not be dead. Please, God, not dead.

She groaned softly and stirred.

Praise the saints!

“Rose,” he called his voice a bare whisper. “Can you hear me?”

She turned her head toward him and Brynmor saw the bruises covering her face. Sweet Jesu, what had happened? Her eyes opened, her gaze filled with terror.

“Bryn?”

“Aye. Where are you hurt?”

Her dress
was soaked in blood, but he could not see any wounds. Her arm was badly broken, probably from the fall.

“My
 . . . my ribs on my left side are broken.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Turn your backs,” he growled.

His men turned immediately.

She allowed him to open her gown but squeezed her eyes shut, tears falling freely.

His gaze fell on the bruise on her ribs; it was black and angry and larger than his hand. Fear and fury cut through him at the same time. He saw the bruises on her breasts as well, marks from a man's fingers. He quickly replaced her dress.

“Rose, my sweet,” his gentle voice betrayed none of his fury. “Who did this to you?”

“Owain,” she whispered. “I tried . . . I could not reach . . .” She grew distraught.

Brynmor soothed her
, but his heart bled and fed the rage burning within him. “Rose, peace, you are safe now. I must carry you back to camp. I fear it will be quite painful.”

Her good hand reached for him. He caught it and kissed her fingers then pressed it firmly against his cheek. He closed his eyes
, fighting back his anguish, but her state nearly shredded his reason.

“We need to get her to safety,” Alec said.

“Aye,” Brynmor replied and cautiously gathered her in his arms.

Rose wrapped her good arm around his neck and clung to him. “Brynmor
 . . .”

He held her as tightly as he dared, squeezing his eyes closed against the
fear growing within him. “I am here, Rose,” he murmured, pressing his lips against her forehead. “They will not hurt you again. I vow it.”
Please let her survive this,
his heart cried.
Please do not let her die.

By the time Brynmor returned to camp, Rose was unconscious. He hailed the guard, fearing his own archers might send an arrow through his chest. With his hail, the quiet camp roared to life, the
men stunned to learn their prince had not retaken the keep using the tunnel but had instead returned with his injured wife in his arms.

Brynmor approached his pavilion and saw
Montgomery sprinting toward him. His face turned gray when he saw Rose.

“What happened?”

“Owain,” he growled. “But somehow she escaped him. I found her . . .” His voice cracked and he fought to steady it. “She needs help, Talon.”

“Aye
.”

Brynmor ducked his head as he entered his pavilion with
Montgomery, calling for a healer, right behind. He eased Rose onto his bed and gently smoothed her tangled hair from her forehead.

Her father
stared at her. Brynmor didn't think it was possible, but his face lost even more color. “Her ribs are shattered on her left side,” Brynmor said.

For a long moment
Montgomery did not move, his throat muscles working reflexively. He looked at Brynmor with fear in his eyes. Brynmor knew by the sickening feeling curling in his gut that his own gaze matched it.

“I will send a man for Gwen,”
Montgomery said. “She will be here in a matter of hours.”

Brynmor stared at Rose, his knees threatening to buckle. “I do not wish Gwen
to risk herself on the trail.” He swallowed hard, his throat constricting. “But aye, bid her come with all haste.”

****

Brynmor sat in his pavilion, remaining steadfast at Rose’s side. Montgomery paced restlessly, leaving the pavilion every so often and then returning a few moments later, as if he could not decide if his vigil would be best served watching over Rose or watching for Gwen’s arrival.

Brynmor held Rose’s hand tightly. His free hand would
occasionally reach out and brush through her hair or caress the soft skin of her bruised face. Occasionally, she would open her eyes and look at him, but Brynmor did not know if she truly saw him before she slipped back into unconsciousness. His heart threatened to shatter. He sensed her pain in the deepest part of his being; he knew her suffering, but was helpless to stop it. His soul cursed and raged that it had come to this. She was his wife, she meant more to him than anything he had ever known. Why couldn’t he have protected her from this?

A cry rose through the camp and
Montgomery opened the flap of the pavilion. Brynmor looked up and saw that dawn had arrived, casting pink streaks in  the sky.

“Gwen approaches,”
Montgomery said and charged out.

Brynmor carefully returned Rose’s hand to the bed and followed his father-by-law.
In the distance, Brynmor saw six heavy horses with fully armored knights riding hard for the camp, and in the center of them rode a woman, her long raven hair streaming out behind her.

Praise the
saints!

His sister
—a woman not related to him or to Rose by blood, but who loved both of them enough to endanger her own life and answer his call for aid. Brynmor's heart swelled in fierce pride. This . . . this was the meaning of family.

They rode hard and Gwen focused on the camp, exhorting her horse to greater speed. Brynmor blinked in surprise as she pulled ahead of her guard.

“You've never seen her ride, have you?” Montgomery asked.

“Nay.”

Surprisingly, Montgomery smiled. “Then just watch.”

“Get out of my way!” Gwyn cried
, charging up the trail. Brynmor's guards had barricaded it and scrambled to remove the deadly stakes, but Gwen did not allow her horse to slow.

“
Montgomery . . . ”

“Worry not.”

Gwen centered her weight and used the reins to balance her horse. The animal gathered itself and jumped. The beast hung suspended for a moment and Brynmor's heart hung with it. It sailed over the wooden obstacles and landed smoothly on the other side.

Brynmor expelled the breath he had not realized he held.

Montgomery whooped.

With
his cry, the entire camp erupted, cheering the lady who rode with such courage. They parted like the Red Sea for Moses, allowing Gwen's horse to continue its charge up the hill to Brynmor's pavilion.

Montgomery
clapped him on the shoulder. “I told you!”

Brynmor felt tears burn his eyes. “Aye. That you did.”

Gwen settled back into the saddle and pulled her horse to a sliding stop before them. The beast snorted and rolled its eyes. Brynmor had a feeling the animal was as rattled as he was.

Montgomery
, speaking softly, caught the horse's reins. The horse danced, tossing its head. Gwen flew out of the saddle and into her husband's arms.

Their embrace was brief and Gwen pulled away. “Where is she?” She freed the packs tied to her saddle.

“In my pavilion,” Brynmor said.

Gwen surprised him with a quick hug. “Don't worry, Bryn
mor, I'll take good care of her. I need hot water and clean cloths.”

“Already waiting for you,” Brynmor said
, holding the flap of the pavilion open for her. “Your husband told me to be prepared.”

“Good man,” she replied and quickly entered. “Now, I need you two to wait outside.”

“Gwen, please—” Brynmor began.

Montgomery
caught his arm. “Let her work, Brynmor. Trust me, ’tis better this way.”

Sighing miserably, Brynmor allowed
his father-by-law to lead him away.

Brynmor watched the sun crawl through the sky, beside himself with worry. He paced the area in front of his pavilion, refusing all food and accepting only drink, even though wine made his temper even more tenuous.

His worry for Rose tangled with his need to exact revenge. Tactically, he needed to launch an assault against the walls
, but he could not bear to be away from Rose for so long, and he did not dare ask her father to lead the assault. Montgomery probably would have done so if he asked, but he had no desire to remove him from his daughter.

Finally he sank into a chair next to
him. “I am a weak man,” he said softly. “I should be demanding vengeance.”

Montgomery
took a drink from his cup and Bryn saw a tremor pass through him. “Nay,” he said tightly. “You are human, Brynmor. My tactical mind says the same thing, to launch our strongest attack now, before the day ages. But like you, I cannot bear to give up my vigil.” He looked at Brynmor a long moment then gripped his shoulder. “You are a good man, Brynmor, one I am proud to call my son.”

Brynmor's throat tightened at the unexpected praise. He ducked his head, staring at his boots. “
’Twas my desire to only be worthy of your daughter.” Unexpected tears threatened. “I am but a simple man—” his voice cracked. “I cannot lose her, Talon. Saints be merciful . . . I cannot . . .”

“She is strong, Brynmor, you know that.”

“Aye.”

Gwen emerged from the pavilion and both men
sprang to their feet. Her gaze searched Brynmor's for a moment. He drew a breath to plead with her to tell him.

“She will survive this,” Gwen said.

Brynmor's shoulders sagged in relief.

Gwen took his hand holding it tightly. “But Brynmor, I have sad news.”

Terror cut through him again. What could possibly—

“She bleed
s . . . she was late for her cycle.”

He frowned, remembering the drying blood around her, wondering what this could mean.

“Brynmor, she was with child.”

The blood drained fro
m his face. “She was breeding?” His free hand went to his head as his thoughts struggled to grasp her meaning.

Rose's voice whispered in memory.
I want nothing more than to give you a family.
He frowned, trying to recall that hazy conversation, but he could not.

Gwen's hand tightened on his. “
She bleeds too much.”

T
he fog lifted and the memory broke free. After the horse fell on him, he had told Rose of his youth . . . of what his father had done . . . it had been such a brand on his heart, he had vowed never to speak of it. He had told her, but she had not rebuked him, instead she had given him a promise that had been a balm to his soul. That's when everything had changed in him.

“She
 . . . she carried my child?”

Gwen stared up at him, her eyes liquid with unshed tears. “I am sorry, Brynmor.”

Grief pierced him to the core. Brynmor pulled away from her and took two steps, the ground undulating beneath his feet. His stomach twisted and rolled. Suddenly, he doubled over and retched violently. His knees buckled, black despair swamped him, threatening to drag him under. He couldn't breathe.

“Dear God,” Gwen whispered. She gripped his shoulders tightly and pulled him to her, cradling his head.

His tears flowed freely—he could no longer stop them. “All I ever wanted was a family I could call my own,” he choked. “She was going to give that to me.”

“Brynmor
 . . .”

He squeezed his eyes closed
, torment ripping through him. He feared he might retch again. Then his thoughts turned to an agonizing event he had witnessed not so very long ago: Llywelyn’s wife, dying in childbirth.

“Nay,” he gasped, the memory shredding his heart even more. “I cannot lose her to this.”

But Gwen held him tightly, her fingers stroking his hair. “Brynmor, listen to me,” she said, her voice quiet but strong with conviction. “You will mourn but your hope is not lost. With time, Rose should heal.”

He swallowed hard, trying to listen to her words, trying not to lose himself to his grief. But all he could think of was the pain Rose had suffered
—pain so great it had caused the death of the child he had planted within her.

“As long as we can keep her free of infection, she will heal and be able to bear children.”

“There is a chance?” he asked, grasping for a shred of hope.

“Aye, Brynmor, God willing you will yet have your family
, but she must heal.”

He closed his eyes, praying with all his heart. “May
 . . . may I see her?”

“Aye.”

As he straightened, she cupped his face in her hands and forced him to look at her. “Brynmor, hear my words. She is very weak, she grieves as you do. She needs your strength, and most of all, she needs to know you do not fault her for this.”

His eyes widened. “Fault
her? Nay, Gwen, never that.”

Gwen smiled at him. “Good, now go to her.”

He rose, his limbs trembling. Brynmor paused at a basin of water and cleaned the tearstains from his face. A brave servant approached and offered him a cup of wine. He nodded his thanks and drank. He struggled to gather himself and glanced over his shoulder, noting Montgomery was nowhere to be seen. Drawing a deep breath into his lungs, he entered his pavilion.

She looked so small and fragile in his bed, the bruises dark and angry on her face. His heart twisted in his chest. She stirred and looked at him. He saw in her expression the exact same grief that raged within his heart. In an instant he was at her side. He wanted to pull her into his arms but feared hurting her. Instead, he pressed his lips against her cheek, feeling the dampness
, and lightly kissed her tears away.

“Bryn
mor,” she cried, her good arm encircling his neck. “Forgive me . . . I am so sorry . . . I did not know I was with child.”

“Nay,” he said gently but his tone brooked no argument. “
’Twill be all right, little one.”

She sobbed into his hair and he knew
it caused the pain to tear at her ribs. “Please do not cry . . . Rose . . . please . . .” He drew a deep breath and summoned his courage. “I love you, my sweet Rose.” He drew back far enough so she could see him, and hopefully, his sincerity.

Her tears still leaked down her face but her beautiful blue eyes searched his. He saw so clearly her pain and desolation
, but he also the tiny spark of hope. “I know how much having a family means to you.”

“We will mourn this child,” he whispered, taking her good hand and kissing her palm. With
his free hand he gently dried the tears from her face. “We will mourn and together we will heal. I love you too much to do anything less.”

He saw it in her eyes, the relief that he did not blame her, the joy that he loved her. He marveled that his words could make her happy
, but they did, and peace grew in his heart. He knew the road ahead would be hard and long, but he also knew that together they could survive it.

“Bryn, I
—”

“
My lord,” a gruff voice barked outside.

He cursed softly, looking over his shoulder.

“We will talk later.” She smiled through her tears. “Be safe my beloved husband.”

He sighed and bent over her, intending on giving her a chaste kiss
, but his lips touched hers and he suddenly found himself kissing her with all of the love and passion he felt for her. He pulled away, but she stopped him and whispered in his ear.

“I almost lost you once
; I need you to come back to me.”

He closed his eyes. “You are my love
 . . . and my life.”

“
My lord!” the voice called again.

“One moment,” he snapped.

“Go, I will be fine.”

“Forgive me, Rose.”

“It's all right.”

Reluctantly, he pulled away from her and left the pavilion. He saw Gwen, gave her a nod, and she hurried back inside. His gaze fell on Alec and he scowled
, wondering where the man found the courage to bother him at a time like this.

“My lord, forgive me,” Alec said. “But it's
Lord Montgomery.”

At the mention of his name Brynmor remembered that
he had vanished when Gwen told him the news. “What is it?”

He gestured to the staging area. “He's working the men into a frenzy, sir.”

Indeed, Montgomery rode his great destrier back and forth before the men. Brynmor could not understand his shouted words, but the men cheered and beat their weapons against their shields, raising a cacophony. “What the devil?”

“He courts their rage
. He prods their fury at what was done to their lady. After serving under your banner, the men are devoted to you. After hearing the story of her on the walls, they admire her. Montgomery only awaits you to mount your destrier and lead them. The men vow to retake the castle before the sun sets.”

At first Brynmor wondered if
Montgomery was attempting to usurp his position, but as he watched his father-by-law, he realized all he had done was set the kindling. It was up to Brynmor to light the flame.

“Bring me my horse,” Brynmor barked. “Alec, I want you to gather the sappers. When we rise against the gates
, I want you to lead them into the tunnel and attack from within.” He paused and gripped Alec's shoulder. “On my honor, we shall retake Powys, and Owain will pay for what he's done.”

****

Through her tears, Rose saw her mother rush into the pavilion.

“Sweet Mary,” Gwen said, hurrying to her side. “Please tell me he didn't say anything foolish.”

“Oh, nay,” Rose whispered.

“Then why are you crying?”

“He loves me . . . he actually said the words.”

Gwen sat back
, smiling broadly. “Thank God he finally figured it out.”

Rose chuckl
ed and gasped in pain. “Oh, Mother, please don't make me laugh. It hurts.”

“Forgive me, Rose, but I am quite relieved. There's hope for him yet.” She sat back, her humor fading. “Rose, I always knew family was of great import to him
, but I never realized how much. When I told him . . . he became violently ill.”

Rose's tears renewed. “Remember
you told me to learn his reasons?”

“Aye.”

“I finally did, Mother. He told us his father had died, but that was not true. His father took his brothers and sisters when he found out Brynmor's mother was breeding. Stole them away in the dead of night. Brynmor was the eldest, he did not dare leave his mother alone. In one night, Brynmor lost his entire family.”

“Sweet merciful saints, and then the baby died because of the famine and he could not yet plow a full field.”

“Aye, Mother, he grew up poor, but that didn't matter to him because he had his family.”

“He lost the only thing that was precious to him.”

Her tears flowed faster. “I promised I would give him a family. That's what changed in him. I didn't understand it until now, but it's the only thing that makes sense.”

“Rose, please
, dear heart, do not vex yourself. We must be very cautious with your healing, but I'm certain if we are careful you will be able to bear children.”

The roar of soldiers startled them.

Gwen moved to open the pavilion flap. “Your father and husband rally the men to attack the castle,” she said.

Rose squeezed her eyes shut and whispered a prayer.
Please keep him safe!