The Velvet Promise (23 page)

"You don't ask me the news," John said between bites, his elbow raised so Judith could clean and bandage the wound in his side.

"You will tell me," she said. "If it were good, my husband would have returned also. I can wait a long time for bad news."

John set the bowl down and looked at her.

"Is he dead?" she asked, not looking up at him.

"I don't know," he said quietly. "We were betrayed."

"Betrayed!" she cried, apologizing when she realized she'd hurt John's wound.

"One of the garrison knights, a new man named Bohun, slipped through the night to tell Demari that Lord Gavin planned to ride to his brother for help at dawn. Lord Gavin hadn't gone far when he was overtaken."

"But he was not killed?" Judith whispered.

"I don't believe so. We found no body," John said harshly, returning to his food. "Two of the men who rode with my lord were killed… killed in such a way that it lies heavy on me. This is no ordinary man we deal with, but a devil!"

"Was there no ransom message or any word that they held him prisoner?"

"No. Nothing. The four of us must have gotten there moments after the battle. There were some of Demari's men still there. We fought them."

She tied the last knot on the bandage then looked up at him. "Where are the other men? There couldn't be only four left."

"They still camp outside Demari's walls. We go to fetch Lord Miles and his men. Lord Raine's leg wouldn't have had time to heal."

"And do you think Miles will be able to free Gavin?"

John didn't answer but concentrated on the stew.

"Come, you can tell me the truth."

He looked at her. "It's a strong castle. It can be taken without reinforcements only if we lay siege."

"But that would take months!"

"Yes, my lady."

"And what of Gavin and my mother who are held prisoner there?

Wouldn't they be the first to starve if the food were gone?"

John stared at his bowl.

Judith stood, her fists clenched, her nails digging into her palms.

"There is another way," she said evenly. "I will go to Walter Demari."

John's head shot up, one eyebrow raised. "And what can you do that men cannot?" he asked cynically.

"Anything that is required of me," Judith answered quietly.

John nearly threw his bowl. Instead, he grabbed her arm, his strong hand hurting her. "No! You don't know what you're saying. Do you think we deal with a sane man? Do you think he will free Lord Gavin and your mother if you were to give him what he wants? If you saw the men—what were once men," he added, "who rode with Lord Gavin, you wouldn't consider giving yourself to this Demari. There was no need for such torture, yet he seemed to do it for joy alone. If he were a man, I would consider your idea, but he isn't."

She shook her arm until John released it. "What else is there to do? A siege would most certainly cause their deaths, but you say a siege is the only way to attack. If I were to get inside the castle, perhaps I could find Gavin and my mother and arrange an escape for them."

"An escape!" he snorted. John had forgotten that she was the Lady Judith and had the authority to order him about; she was just a young and inexperienced girl now. "And how would you get out? There are only two entrances; both guarded well."

Judith squared her shoulders, her chin held high. "What choice do you have? If Miles were to lead an attack, Demari would surely put Gavin to death, as well as my mother. Do you love Gavin so little that you don't care whether he dies or not?"

Suddenly John knew she was right. And he knew that he would be the one to turn her over to Walter Demari's bloody hands. She had struck John's heart when she mentioned love for Lord Gavin. John couldn't love the young man more if he were his own son. She was right that there was a chance to save Lord Gavin if she surrendered herself. Lord Gavin might have him hanged for endangering Judith, but he knew he was going to obey her. "You are trying for martyrdom," John said quietly. "What is to keep Demari from killing you also?"

Judith smiled at him, put her hands on his shoulder, for she also knew she'd won. "If he killed me, he would lose the Revedoune lands. If I have learned nothing else, I know how much men will do for my property." Her eyes glinted for a moment. "Now, come inside where we may talk more freely. You and I have a great deal of planning to do."

He followed her dumbly. She acted as if they prepared the menu for a woodland picnic rather than gave herself, as a lamb to slaughter, to a butcher.

Judith wanted to leave immediately, but John persuaded her to wait and give him and his men some rest. Truthfully, he hoped to talk her out of her madness and to find an alternate plan, but her logic bewildered him.

For every reason he gave that she should not go, Judith gave ten more sensible ones why she should. And he agreed with her; he could see no other way of any chance of saving the prisoners… if they were prisoners.

But oh, how he dreaded Lord Gavin's wrath! He said as much to Lady Judith. She laughed. "If he is safe enough to indulge his anger, I will kiss his hand in thanksgiving."

John shook his head in wonder. The woman was too clever by half again. He didn't envy Lord Gavin the taming of her.

They couldn't take many men as a guard—they could not leave the estate unprotected—and already many of Gavin's knights waited for him.

They were thankful it was only two days' travel to Demari's property.

Judith worked hard while John rested and ate. She ordered the loading of several wagons of grain and preserved meats to be prepared at the campsite. Another cart was given over to her clothes; the most beautiful of silks, velvets, brocades, cashmeres, along with a large ironbound chest filled with jewels.

When John mumbled something about women being ostentatious, Judith took him to task.

"Walter Demari hungers for some woman he believes to be beautiful.

Would you like me to appear before him in homespun? He would say he'd changed his mind and have me thrown to the bottom of a well. He must be a vain man, or he wouldn't demand that a woman he hardly knows repudiate her husband and claim him as her true love. Therefore, I will play to his vanity and wear my most exquisite clothes for him."

John stared at her a moment, then turned away. He didn't know whether to praise her or be angry at himself for not thinking of what she said first.

For all the facade she showed to the world, Judith was scared. But for the life of her, she couldn't think of any alternative plan.

She lay awake all night thinking. Demari had sent no message of exchange. Perhaps he had already killed Gavin and Helen, and Judith was turning herself over to him for no reason.

She ran her hands over her stomach, knew it was still hard and flat. She was sure now that she carried Gavin's child. Was the baby part of the reason she worked to save her husband?

When the sun rose, Judith dressed slowly in a practical wool gown. She was strangely sedate, almost as if she walked to certain death. She went below to the little chapel for mass. She would pray for all of them—her husband, her mother and her unborn child.

Walter Demari sat before a wooden table in the great hall of his father's estate. Once the table had been a finely carved piece, but over time most of the heads of the beasts had been broken away, the necks rubbed smooth. Absently, Walter kicked at a chicken that pecked at the hose on his short, thin legs. He studied the parchment in front of him and refused to look at his surroundings. His father refused to give him anything but this run-down, neglected old tower. Walter buried his resentment deeply and concentrated on the task before him. When he was wed to the heiress to the Revedoune lands, then his father wouldn't dismiss him as if he didn't exist.

Behind Walter stood Arthur Smiton, a man Walter considered his friend. Arthur had helped Walter at every turn, agreeing that Walter should have had the lovely heiress instead of Gavin Montgomery. To repay Arthur for his loyalty, Walter had made the man his chief vassal. It was Arthur who had succeeded in capturing Lord Gavin.

"Arthur," Demari complained, "I don't know how to word the message.

What if she won't come? If she
does
hate her husband, why should she risk so much for him?"

Arthur didn't let his emotions show. "Do you forget the old woman we hold? Isn't she the girl's mother?"

"Yes," Walter said and returned his attention to the parchment before him. It wasn't easy asking what he did. He wanted marriage to the Lady Judith in exchange for the freedom of her husband and mother.

Arthur stood behind Walter for a moment, then moved away to pour himself a cup of wine. He needed a firm stomach to be able to withstand Walter's mewling. The love-sick young man made Arthur ill. Walter had come back from the Montgomery-Revedoune wedding so enthralled with the bride that he'd hardly been able to do anything except talk of her.

Arthur looked on him with disgust. Walter had everything;—lands, wealth, a family, hope for the future. He was not like Arthur, who had pulled himself up from the muck that had been his family. Anything he had he'd acquired through intelligence, physical strength and, quite often, treachery and lying. There was nothing that he wouldn't do to get what he wanted. When he'd seen the spineless Walter mooning about a bit of a girl, Arthur developed a plan.

It hadn't taken long to learn of the quarrels the new bride had with her husband. Arthur, only a knight in Walter's garrison, had found a ready ear when he spoke of an annulment and a second marriage to Walter. Arthur couldn't have cared less about the girl, but the Revedoune lands were worth any amount of fighting. Walter hadn't wanted to attack Robert Revedoune, but Arthur knew Revedoune would stop at nothing to keep his daughter wed to the Montgomery family. It had been easy to kill the old man once he allowed them, as friends, inside his castle walls. His wife Helen had followed docilely and Arthur laughed, recognizing a well-trained woman when he saw one. He admired Revedoune for that.

"My lord," a nervous servant announced, "there are visitors outside."

"Visitors?" Walter asked, his eyes hazy.

"Yes, my lord. It is the Lady Judith Montgomery, surrounded by her men-at-arms."

Walter jumped up, the writing table upset, as he started after the servant.

Arthur grabbed his arm. "I pray you, my lord, take care. Perhaps it's a trap."

Walter's eyes burned. "What trap could there be? The men won't fight and endanger their lady."

"Perhaps the lady herself…"

Walter jerked away from him. "You go too far. Be careful you don't find yourself in the cellar with Lord Gavin." Stormily, he left the old tower, kicking sawdust-dry rushes out of his way. Arthur's word of caution had penetrated his brain, and now he ran up the narrow stone stairs to the top of the wall in order to be sure it was indeed the Lady Judith who waited below.

There was no mistaking her. The auburn hair that flowed down her back was not to be confused with anyone else's. "It is she," he whispered excitedly, then seemingly flew down the stairs, across the bailey to the front gate.

"Open it, man!" he bellowed to the gatekeeper. "And be quick about it!"

The heavy iron-tipped portcullis was drawn upward slowly, Walter waiting impatiently.

"My lord," Arthur said at his side. "You can't let her bring her men inside. There are over a hundred of them. We could be attacked from within."

Walter turned his eyes away from the gate that creaked in protest as it rose. He knew Arthur was right, yet he wasn't sure what else to do.

Arthur fixed the weak blue eyes with his own dark ones. "I will ride out to meet her. You can't be risked. I will ride no farther than the range of the crossbowmen. When I'm sure it is the Lady Judith, my men and I will escort her through the gate."

"Alone?" Walter asked eagerly.

"She may have a personal guard if she so insists, but none other. We cannot allow her whole garrison to enter," he repeated.

The portcullis was up, the drawbridge down as Arthur mounted his horse and rode out, followed by five other knights.

Judith sat very still on her mount as she watched the raising of the gate.

It took every ounce of her courage not to turn away. The old castle might be crumbling in places, but it looked very formidable when she was so close to it. She felt as if it was about to swallow her.

"There is time yet to leave, my lady," John Bassett observed as he leaned forward.

Six men were riding toward her, and she very much wanted to turn away. Then her stomach turned over and she had to swallow a sudden attack of nausea. Her child was reminding her of its presence. The baby's father and grandmother were inside those old walls and, if she could, she was going to get them out.

"No," she said to John with more strength than she actually felt. "I must attempt the task."

When the leader of the approaching men was close to Judith, she knew at once that he was the instigator of the whole plot. She remembered Walter as mild and meek but this man's mocking dark eyes showed no weakness. His clothes flashed with jewels; every color, every variety and size. His dark hair was covered by a small velvet cap, whose wide band on it held at least a hundred jewels. It looked almost like a crown.