Chapter Ten

I t was a piece of work, getting from one end of the hall to the other without waking any of the castlefolk bedded down there or alerting the few sentries passing the open arches of the gallery that looked down on the hall. The second time Kenric stumbled over someone’s feet in the dark, Ranulf picked him up and toted him under his arm the rest of the way to the stairwell.

“S’wounds, if we had a candle—”

“We would be easier seen,” Ranulf growled low.

He set the boy down to traverse the narrow stairs and they lucked onto a wall torch at the top, which Kenric borrowed to light the long passageway.

“Is this it, then?” the boy whispered when they reached the door at the end.

“If Walter’s wench did not misguide him. And block the light when I open the door. I do not want the lady waking ere I reach her.”

The door was not locked, but it was blocked by a pallet spread on the floor in front of it. Ranulf closed the door again and swore under his breath.

“What is wrong?” Kenric asked.

“One of her maids sleeps in front of the door. You will have to squeeze through the crack and see to it she continues to sleep.”

Kenric’s eyes widened to great turquoise circles. “You want me to kill her?”

“ Sleeps , lackwit, not ‘never wakes up.’ A light tap on the head with your dagger hilt should do it nicely. Just be quiet about it.”

Kenric set the torch in the wall bracket beside the door before he slipped through. In half a minute he was back and opening the door wide.

“’Twas not a she, but a he,” Kenric whispered, his surprise still evident. “That boy—”

“I can guess who,” Ranulf replied in disgust. “Just bring the restraints. We will see to the lady first; then you can tie up her ‘guard.’”

“’Tis done.” At Ranulf’s raised brow, Kenric amended with a grin, “Just his hands. You said to be quick.”

Ranulf grunted. “So I did. Let us have this over with, then.”

With the door left open, torchlight spilled a few feet into the room, but only dimly lit the rest of the area. However, it was enough light for what they had to do.

The chamber was not large, though not too small either. It was in feet nearly identical with the one Ranulf had been given for his use. Theo was slumped beside the door where Kenric had shoved him. The bed sat in the center of one wall, the curtains closed about it. A number of items cluttered the room, several tables and stools, a wooden chest at the foot of the bed, a large brazier where a fire had burned earlier, needed even for this wanner weather of late spring.

Carefully, Ranulf drew back the curtains on the bed just enough to lean inside. She was there, no more than a tiny mound beneath her covers, topped by the raven locks spread across her pillow. It was she. Even in the darker gloom inside the enclosed space, he could see the whiteness of her small, piquant face, the dark slanting brows, that full lower lip forming a pout as she slept.

For a moment he hesitated. Once she woke to see him in her chamber, there would be no turning back. She would belong to Rothwell, for better or worse. And he knew it would only be for worse. But he would then have Farring Cross, his own land, earned by his own labor, not given to him, as his younger half brother had come by his land. Ranulf had had to work for what he wanted because his mother had been no more than a village wench, whereas his brother’s mother had been a lady—not wed to their father, but a lady nonetheless. For that and that alone, her son, a bastard as Ranulf was, younger man Ranulf was, had been named their father’s heir, had been raised with all the privileges accorded a precious heir.

No, Ranulf could not afford to feel anything for this lady sleeping so innocently in her chaste bed. There were little enough ways for a man to earn the kind of money he needed without stealing it, so he could not pick and choose as his conscience might dictate. And she was just another heiress to be fought over and won by the stronger man, Rothwell being that man because he had hired Ranulf. She was no more than a job to him, hopefully the last. So being, he hesitated no longer.

Her eyes opened the instant Ranulf’s hand slid across her mouth, colorless in the dark, wide and fearful. The softness of her lips registered, but only for a second, for he had to apply more pressure when her small hand came up to push against his arm. He leaned across her to keep her other arm trapped be neath the cover whilst he exchanged his hand for a gag and quickly secured it with a strip of cloth. Her free hand was ineffective in stopping him, useless no matter how she pushed or pulled.

She moaned, for no other reason than he had pulled her hair in tying off the gag, but Ranulf stiffened, not knowing what caused it, and immediately leaned away from her. He had thought his mind hardened against her, but that soft sound pricked him on the raw, enough to make him furious with himself, with her, with life in general.

“Kenric!” The boy instantly poked his head through the curtain. “Get her hands and feet tied.” But the boy did not move, and Ranulf swore under his breath when he looked down to see that the cover had moved enough to reveal the lady was naked beneath it. “Hold her down.”

Ranulf angrily left the bed to rummage in the chest he had seen. He returned and thrust a sleeveless shift through the curtain.

“You want me to put it on her?” he heard Kenric squeak in horror.

Ranulf gritted his teeth. “Just do it and be quick about it.”

Kenric gave Reina an apologetic look before he slipped the shift over her head. But that was as far as he got. She had both hands loose now, and it was all he could do just to keep her in the bed. He was not Ranulf.

“She will not let me!” Kenric called out desperately.

“She will let you, or she will be carried out of here naked.”

No more was heard from behind the curtain after that. Ranulf waited several moments more for the lady to be clothed, then threw the curtain wide to swipe the cover off the bed. While Kenric struggled to bind her wrists with the cloth strips they had brought along for that purpose, Ranulf spread the cover on the floor.

“You are not finished yet?”

“She does not want to make this easy,” Kenric hissed in answer.

With a low growl of irritation, Ranulf returned to the bed and grabbed Reina’s hands to hold them together whilst Kenric finished wrapping the cloth around her wrists. He did the same with her feet, ignoring the furious looks he was now getting from her. That done, he lifted her off the bed.

“Secure the boy now,” Ranulf told Kenric before laying Reina down on the cover. One hand on her chest, just below her breasts, held her there. “Be easy, lady,” he unbent enough to tell her. “We do not take you to harm you.” There was a spate of garbled mumbling from behind the gag, loud enough to make him lean closer to add, “Do you go quietly, no one will be harmed. Do you draw attention to yourself, make no mistake, there will be killing aplenty. Think you your men, such as they are, can stop me?”

He was satisfied to hear no more noises from her, and she stopped squirming beneath his hand as well. In a moment Kenric returned to kneel beside him, and together they rolled Reina up in the thick cover. This not only secured her more completely but also concealed her and would better muffle any more noises she might make.

“Should she not have more clothes than that shift?” Kenric asked as Ranulf picked up the long bundle to toss over his shoulder.

“She can go to Rothwell naked for all I care,” Ranulf said, only to recall that it would be days yet ere she would be turned over to Rothwell. “Very well,” he amended surlily. “Find a gown or two in her chest and bring it along.”

In another few moments they were both moving back down the passageway to the stairwell. Below, Kenric went ahead, ready to use his dagger hilt again should any of the servants wake to see them, but ’twas unnecessary. The castlefolk’s labors had been much increased throughout the day, and they were now dead to the world.

Across the hall, Walter waited by the stairwell leading down to the second floor and the forebuilding where a guard stood duty at the entrance. With a nod, he went down to draw the guard away, and in only another minute Ranulf was able to pass his burden on to Searle, outside the door.

Back upstairs, they waited for Walter to return. He was grinning when he did.

“You had no trouble with the lady?”

“Nay, we need only wait for Eric to arrive now.”

“It has gone too easy,” Kenric remarked. “What if Eric is delayed, or—”

“Bite your tongue,” Ranulf retorted. “Eric will come within the hour, so return to your beds that you may be ‘awakened’ for his message.”

“Idiot, only one layer of those sacks! Any more will smash her.”

Those were the last words Reina heard for a long while. And she was not only smashed but had nearly been suffocated by a sack unknowingly set directly on her face. If she had not managed to twist her head to the side, they would have had a fine surprise when they got around to digging her out.

She did not have to see to know she had been put in their supply cart, hidden under the sacks of grain Gilbert had sold to them earlier. ’Twas the only way they could smuggle her out of Clydon, and from what she had heard, that was obviously their intent.

Other things were known to her as well without her having to be told. Of course she had seen who was abducting her. And there could only be one reason for it. That it was a planned abduction, rather than a lark, was indicated by the mention that she was going to Rothwell, whoever that was. The stupid giant was not even taking her for himself. That she could have understood. Whoever wed her, be he landless knight or great lord, would have Clydon as long as he swore homage to Lord Guy. But to go to all this trouble for someone else? Fitz Hugh must be earning a fortune to do it. That was the only answer.

Reina had also gathered from his manner that Fitz Hugh was still angry with her because of Theo, that he had not accepted her apology. She wished now she had never made it. How did he dare be wroth because of a little insult when all the while he had been planning this?

It galled her to the teeth to know she had welcomed the viper into her home, had in fact been grateful to him. The truth was, he had saved her to suit his purpose, not for any noble service to her benefit. Trickery, deceit, lies! Some chivalrous knight this. But her own gullibility could not be corrected now. She was well and truly captured. Even should their ploy be discovered, Fitz Hugh had it aright. Her men could not hope to defeat his, would only forfeit their own lives trying. And the soonest she could anticipate help would be several days hence. She could be wed before then, depending on how far away this Rothwell was. Who the devil was be?

Reina grunted, feeling a new weight atop her belly, but it was quickly removed. Not the sack, however. So she had company, did she? Aye, someone was definitely moving around in the cart, shaking it. And she could hear other sounds now, just barely. The cover and sacks meant to conceal her and keep her quiet made hearing most difficult. Were they leaving now, or was she just being guarded, to see she stayed put? As if she could move even a little, as tightly as she was wrapped up.

“Here, Lanzo, keep this with you.”

“What is it?”

“Some clothes for her. There was not time to dress her proper.”

“Oh?”

“Oho, best get rid of those thoughts. She is too old for you, and spoken for besides.”

“What has age to do with it, when Rothwell is old enough to be her great-great-grandfather?”

“How you go on. One ‘great’ was enough. And quiet now, they are opening the inner gate. Remember to moan if you have to.”

“I know what to do, Kenric. You best mount up yourself ere you get left behind.”

The cart began to move and right quickly. Reina wondered what possible excuse they could have used to leave before morning, but soon she felt the jarring bumps of the new bridge crossing the dry ditch and had no thoughts but of her own discomfort. The lad was bounced around, too, at one point right onto her. She moaned as his knee slid between two sacks to gouge her thigh.

“Shh, lady!” she heard him hiss at her. “You will not have to stay under there much longer.”

Reina ground her teeth against the wad of cloth in her mouth. The sneaky little cur, him and that other sweet-faced lad. All along they had known what they meant to do, yet all afternoon the two young squires had been smiling and flirting with her younger ladies, and were naught but innocent looks when she happened to gaze on them. The others, too, the young knights and Sir Walter, with his smiles and jests and friendly manner, all deceivers, all despicable knaves in their pretense, their foul plans already made. At least Ranulf Fitz Hugh had had the decency to avoid her the rest of the day. Whether in anger or because he could not dissemble as easily as the others, at least there was some honesty in that—but not enough to warn her or do her any good.