Chapter 12

Pain greeted Arianna as she slipped free of unconsciousness, most of it centered in her head. She decided she was growing weary of it. She had done nothing to deserve it and wanted the ones who kept inflicting her with it to suffer. It was difficult to swallow her groan of pain as she struggled to open her eyes just enough to see where she was yet not alert her captors to the fact that she was awake.

She was inside a rough cottage. Arianna immediately feared for the safety of the ones the cottage had belonged to but pushed aside that concern. She could do nothing about their fate unless she got free, although she was certain it would only be to find some justice for the killing of innocents. Amiel would not have left anyone alive to tell where he and his men were. He was the one being hunted now. Despite her pain and dire circumstances, Arianna was able to find some satisfaction in that.

Crouched by the fire in the center of the cottage was her husband’s brother Amiel. There was also some petty satisfaction to be found in the fact that the ever-fastidious Amiel was mud-splattered and untidy. Beneath the dirt were clothes fit for an appearance at court and she inwardly shook her head over Amiel’s idiocy. Did the fool think he could just ride into the country and bargain bloodlessly for the return of two boys he meant to kill? It did not surprise her to see the other men glaring at him with contempt when they thought he was not looking their way.

There was no doubt in her mind that the man was indeed a fool, and not only in his choice of clothing. All he had had to do was wait and he could have gotten what he craved without getting any innocent blood on his hands. Claud’s family was appalled that their son and heir had married a common maid and did not wish the boys born of that union to claim anything. A little money and a few lies could make that embarrassing marriage disappear. It would just take time. Amiel, however, wanted it all now, with a ferocity that made her wonder yet again if he was in debt to someone. She wondered if some of the man’s hatred for the boys was because they were Claud’s. There had never been any love lost between the brothers but she had never thought the animosity would lead to murder.

The truth struck her so forcefully she nearly opened her eyes wide and had to swallow a gasp. It was something she had considered several times but now she had no doubt. Amiel owed the DeVeaux something or wanted something they could give him. He had become their pawn, although he was probably too blindly arrogant to know it. It was the only explanation for why he now rushed to kill two young boys who would undoubtedly, and unfairly, become disinherited soon. Legally made bastards by an annulment that would be bought and paid for by his parents.

Not only a traitor to his own blood but a complete, blind fool. Amiel ignored the long, bloody history of DeVeaux treachery if he actually thought they would let him live for long after he gave them what they wanted or they gave him what he sought. Every Lucette knew that the king may have forced a truce between the two families but it had not completely stopped the treachery the DeVeaux excelled at, it had merely made them more secretive. Amiel’s arrogance obviously made him think he could outwit his venomous allies. She could almost feel sorry for Amiel but for the knowledge that he wanted to kill Adelar and Michel. That ended any chance of her feeling even the smallest twinge of pity for him.

“I think she wakes,” said one of the DeVeaux men riding with Amiel.

Arianna silently cursed, wondering what had given her away. She had kept her breathing slow and even, was certain she had not moved any part of her body, and had kept her eyes shut enough that no one should have seen even a hint of wakefulness there. Fighting not to tense in fear and show the others the man was right, she waited.

“Nay, she still sleeps, Sir Anton,” said Amiel, his irritatingly nasal voice easy to recognize.

“Are you quite certain of that?”

“She has not even groaned, has she, and that knock upon the head has to hurt.”

There was the hint of pleasure in his voice and Arianna ached to beat him with a thick stick. Her head throbbed so badly it was difficult to restrain the urge to rub her forehead. Only the knowledge that it would do little to help ease the pain kept her from doing so. What truly mattered now was neither her pain nor her injuries, but the plans of her enemy. Knowing what they had schemed could aid her in escaping them, or warning the others when she was rescued.

And she would be rescued, she told herself firmly. She had more confidence in that than in her chances of escaping, especially since she would have to flee on foot. The fact that she would be on foot if she escaped would not stop her from trying if the chance to flee came her way, however. Arianna knew she did not have Brian’s skill at slipping through the shadows, or even hiding in them, but she had watched him do it enough to have learned a few things. What she had learned might be enough to help her at least stay hidden while Amiel and his men hunted for her.

“Well, I believe she is awake, or very nearly so,” said Sir Anton.

“Kick her then. If she is awake that will make her cease her games.”

“I will not kick a woman, especially not an unconscious woman lying on the ground.”

“Such a tender heart you have, my fine knight. I must wonder what hold the DeVeaux have upon you as you are far too concerned with what is right and proper to deal weel with them. But, not to worry this time. I am not burdened by such weaknesses.”

Arianna did not move fast enough to completely evade Amiel’s boot. He struck her in the lower back as she rolled away from him and struck her hard enough to make her gasp with pain. She was still panting from that pain when he grabbed her by the arm and yanked her to her feet. Nausea clenched her stomach as the pain from the blow on her head swept over her. For a moment, she instinctively fought the urge to empty her stomach, but then caught sight of Amiel’s boots. With a groan, she bent toward them and allowed her stomach to have its way.

Amiel’s cry of disgust and outrage gave her a brief moment of pleasure. That was abruptly ended when his fist hit her jaw. She sprawled on her back on the hard dirt floor of the cottage, the force of the blow knocking her away from him and his soiled boots. Arianna cursed herself for provoking the man. If she suffered more injuries she would never be able to take advantage of any opportunity to escape. The way she hurt now, she was surprised she was still conscious and rather wished she was not. A convenient swoon might save her from feeling any more pain but her body was not cooperating with her wish. Instead, she struggled to sit up.

One tall, thin man stood back from Amiel and his lackeys. Watching everything with a frown. Arianna was sure that was Sir Anton, the man who had been so outraged at the suggestion that he kick an unconscious woman. She wondered if he could prove to be a possible ally, but her head was throbbing so badly that she could barely think straight. One needed one’s full wits sharp to turn a man against the others he rode with, especially to make any man betray the DeVeaux. Arianna was not sure she would be allowed any time to think clearly anyway, or be eased from her pain, as long as she remained a captive of Amiel. Claud had been subtly cruel. Amiel was openly vicious.

“You bitch!” Amiel cried once his boots were clean. “You did that on purpose.”

Just to be contrary, Arianna refused to speak to him in French. “I did it because ye hit me on the head. Emptying one’s belly after such a blow is common. Your boots were just in my way.”

He slapped her and Arianna could see bursts of light behind her lids when she closed her eyes against this new pain. The fear that he was going to beat her to death rose up but she fought it. If that was his plan there was not much she could do to stop him but she did not plan to make it easy for him. She placed her hands on the ground, hung her head, and tried to breathe through the worst of the pain. When she looked at Amiel again she did nothing to hide her contempt or anger.

“You will regret that, you little bitch,” Amiel said, his voice shaking with the fury he could not hide.

“Och, ye greedy swine, I have many regrets already,” she said as she forced herself back on her feet. “The greatest of those is that I e’er met your thrice-cursed family. Are ye verra certain ye are Lucettes?”

“Of course we are. You, however, never were.”

Arianna wondered why those words did not hurt. Amiel just spoke aloud what his whole family had felt about her. She had never been accepted, never been allowed to become a part of the family, and that had always hurt her before. Perhaps, she finally realized, she simply did not care and had not for quite a while. If she had not thought herself married to Claud the pig she would have ceased trying to please her new family a long, long time ago. She had never liked any of them save for young Paul.

“I find myself rather pleased by that,” she said, and staggered when he slapped her again.

“Where are my brother’s little bastards?”

The man did not give her any chance to reply before he slapped her again, catching her with a hard backhand swing for the second blow that sent her back to the floor. Through the pounding in her ears, she could hear arguing. Rolling slowly onto her side, she saw that Sir Anton now stood between her and Amiel.

“You did not allow her to answer,” said Sir Anton.

“And how is that your concern?” Amiel eased his dagger from the sheath at his waist. “Too weak of stomach to do as you should, Sir Anton?”

“The DeVeaux want her alive. I also do not believe beating her to death is either right or will accomplish anything.”

Arianna was just thinking that the man was brave but very foolish when Amiel stabbed Sir Anton. Amiel smiled in a way that chilled her as he yanked his dagger out of the man’s side and watched Sir Anton slowly fall to his knees. Still smiling, he kicked Sir Anton aside and looked at her again. There was such a gleam of violence in his eyes that, if she could move, she would be running for her life.

Two of the men riding with Amiel moved to help Sir Anton get back on his feet. Another looked at Amiel, his hand clutching the hilt of his sword. Arianna suspected the man was a DeVeaux soldier and was wondering just how far he should go in defending a fellow DeVeaux man.

“Lord Ignace will not be pleased if you murder the man he married his cousin off to,” the man said. “It was not easy to find someone to take the woman.”

“I have not killed the fool,” snapped Amiel, turning toward the man.

The other men quickly joined in the resulting argument, obviously intent upon reminding Amiel just whom he owed his allegiance to. It was clear for Arianna to see that Amiel did not like to be reminded. As she began to crawl out of the cottage, she prayed the men would decide that argument was futile and just kill him.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Sir Anton move to lean up against the wall. He was watching her but said nothing, making no attempt to draw the attention of the others to what she was doing. Arianna suspected he saw no gain in telling Amiel that his prisoner was trying to escape for they both knew she had very little chance of accomplishing it. It was going to be a while before she could even stand up without risking complete unconsciousness.

Just as she reached the middle of the cleared area in front of the cottage, the carefully tended ground already badly marred by the men’s horses, she rose up on her knees. Her vision was not completely clear and the throbbing in her head made her stomach churn, but Arianna slowly forced herself to her feet.

“Where do you think you are going?”

Arianna looked toward her horse and sighed. There was no chance that she could reach it, mount, and ride away before she was caught. She simply did not have the strength. There was no doubt in her mind that, after only a few steps, if she did not fall down, she would be knocked down. She turned to face Amiel. It was not easy to keep her gaze fixed on him when she could see Sir Anton stealthily making his way to the horses.

“I confess that I grew weary of your kind hospitality and decided it was time to go home,” she replied to Amiel.

“My brother never truly succeeded in showing you your place, did he?”

If only I had the strength to punch him right in that sneering mouth of his, I could die happy, Arianna thought. “My place is right here,” she said, refusing to speak in French as he continued to do. “In Scotland. But dear old Claud learned his place, didnae he, Amiel? Ye taught him and his wife, didnae ye?”

“You think I killed my own brother?” The man sounded shocked but there was the glint of amused satisfaction in his eyes.

“Aye, I do. Mayhap ye didnae dirty your own hands, but ye hired the ones who did. Grew tired of waiting for him to die, did ye? Did ye think no one would learn that he was truly married to Marie Anne? That no one would ken that Michel and Adelar are Claud’s legal heirs?”

“They will never be accepted as the heirs. My family will see them marked as the common-born little bastards they are.”

“Aye, they probably will, so why dinnae ye just wait for that to happen? Why this hunt for them? I was taking them far away so ye wouldnae e’en have seen them about while your parents worked to annul Claud’s marriage to Marie Anne. And to ally yourself with the DeVeaux? Ye will have your whole clan wanting to kill ye and spit upon your grave.”

“Foolish woman. Claud was right. You are not very clever. I could have waited but then I would have been no more than another Lucette, another titled, landed Lucette among dozens of titled, landed Lucettes. But, with only the gifting of a small piece of land to the DeVeaux, I have an ally all the other Lucettes fear.” He shrugged. “And the very full purse they plan to give me as well.”

“All that still doesnae explain why ye hunt the boys. It only tells me that ye have no loyalty to your own blood.”

She tensed when he clenched his hands into fists, but he did not hit her. It was clear that he suddenly wanted to boast of his cleverness. Arianna could not understand how the man could betray his whole family as he had done and she made no secret of the disgust she felt for him. She knew it was revealed on her face if only because of the way Amiel grew more furious the longer she looked at him.

“Ah, I forgot that you paid little heed to the reading of the will.”

“Hard to pay attention when one isnae e’en told about it.”

“Claud left the land the DeVeaux want to the boys. There is no way of changing that unless the boys die, for it was Claud’s land alone, to do with as he pleased. I was there when he wrote the will and convinced him to name me as heir should anything happen and the boys did not live into manhood.” He scowled. “I could not stop him from naming you their guardian, however. That was a disappointment.”

“For which ye slaughtered him and Marie Anne.”

“One of but many reasons.”

Arianna found it all hard to believe. Claud had finally done something worthy for his children and it had put a knife at their throats. It also surprised her that he had officially made her their guardian for it was unusual to name a woman one and Claud had never shown any faith in her ability to do much of anything right.

“And for that wee piece of land and a few coins, ye killed your own brother and Marie Anne, and now mean to kill two bairns who have ne’er done ye harm, your own nephews.”

“I told you that I did not kill my brother and his sow.”

“Nay, I believe ye. I believe that ye didnae bloody your own soft hands with the black deed of killing your own brother, but I do believe that ye put the sword in the hands of the ones who did.”

“The DeVeaux ...”

“Have kenned that Claud held that land for years and either didnae, or couldnae, do anything about it. Ye found a way to have it done or conspired with them to do it. Aye, I suspicion ye could stand before the king himself and claim innocence because ye didnae actually do the killing, but ye are guilty right enough. I am nay sure how ye think ye can do the same once ye kill the boys, though, since ye are hunting them down like dogs.”

“We are merely trying to retrieve my brother’s heirs, who were taken from their rightful place by the woman my brother betrayed. We feared for the safety of the children in the hands of that woman and it appears we were right to do so. Sadly, the children were murdered before we could save them.”

The smug tone of his voice, his obvious delight in the plan for how to explain the deaths of Michel and Adelar, chilled Arianna. Amiel did not care about blood at all. All he was concerned with was gaining riches and power, and if he had to start gaining that wealth by stepping over the bodies of two murdered children, he would do so without hesitation.

And, after the murder of the two boys, the rest of the Lucettes who had something Amiel wanted would begin to suffer. Arianna was certain that Amiel intended to reduce the number of landed, titled Lucettes until he was weighted down with their honors. The heirs would be the first to go for he would need to clear the path for himself. He apparently had the intention of being the last Lucette standing. It was a mad plan and one she doubted would work for a rapid decline in heirs to the various Lucette properties would soon draw a lot of attention. Unfortunately, a great many innocent Lucettes could die first.

“And do ye truly believe that the DeVeaux will sit back and allow ye to slowly grow more powerful than they are, to watch ye reap titles and lands until ye are a threat to them?”

“I but seek what Claud would have gained in time, and retrieve those riches which he would have foolishly handed over to ones not worthy of them.”

“Nay, I think ye want more. Much more. After all, ye just said ye were but one of far too many titled Lucettes and ye ally yourself with the deadliest of your kinmen’s enemies. Nay, ye have some mad plan to try and get it all.” She shook her head, forgetting how badly it would hurt to do so, and had to stiffen her stance to remain upright. “It is a plan that can only fail, Amiel. E’en if the king or your own kin dinnae guess the deadly game ye mean to play and stop you, the DeVeaux will.”

“As they all guessed how dear old Claud died?”

“Claud was but one mon. Now ye think to add two wee lads and follow their deaths with many others.”

“At this moment my only concern is for those boys. Where are they?”

“Somewhere where ye will ne’er get your filthy hands on them.”

The blow he struck against her face snapped her head sideways with such force pain shot through her neck. Arianna again steadied herself, holding her legs so taut and straight that they ached, too. She knew Amiel could not allow her to live no matter what the DeVeaux wanted. He had let her see the truth of all his plans. She knew too much now.

“You will tell me where Claud’s whelps are, bitch, or you will suffer.”

Arianna touched her mouth and then looked at the blood on her fingers. She could already feel the swelling in her face, her skin tightening with it. There were very few places on her body that did not already throb with pain from Amiel’s fists and booted feet. She knew it would only get worse because she had no intention of telling him anything. What she wished she could do was fight back, to knock him down and kick him a few times.

Still staring at the blood on her fingers, she suddenly wondered where that spine had been when Claud had battered her with his cruel words. If he had backhanded her even once, she would not have hesitated to leave, undoubtedly making sure that Claud tasted a little pain himself before she walked away. Yet she had allowed him to cut her with words. Claud had found a weakness in her that she had not seen and used it to turn her into a quiet little shadow, one who never fought back, never questioned. She looked at Amiel and saw that same cruelty in him, only Amiel preferred to be more direct in his abuse. I should have seen it, Arianna thought.

“And ’tis a strange time to have an epiphany,” she muttered, knowing there was a very good chance she would not be alive long enough to shake free of the chains Claud had bound her with.

“What did you say?” demanded Amiel.

“Naught that concerns you,” she replied, idly wondering if she had the strength to kick him right in his precious manparts.

“Where are the boys?”

“Why are ye even troubling yourself to ask? Ye ken where they are already, or think ye do. The DeVeaux have sent ye word several times, have they nay?” She almost smiled at the surprise on his face, something he tried to quickly hide from her.

“They have only surmised where they might be. I think you know exactly where they are.”

“And I think ye just wish to pretend that ye have a good reason to beat a lass half your size.”

Even as he moved to strike her, she kicked out, slamming the toe of her booted foot right between his legs. She stumbled back a few steps as she struggled to right herself. Amiel gave a strangled scream, clutched himself, and fell to his knees. Arianna knew she was going to pay dearly for that. All that troubled her was that it had not even given her a chance to try and get to her horse because two of Amiel’s men immediately moved to guard her.

The way Amiel retched and muttered vile curses against her under his breath should have terrified her, Arianna thought. Instead, she moved to kick him again, trying to strike a blow to his head. The men flanking her put a stop to that and she sighed. As Amiel stumbled to his feet, his expression a twisted grimace of pain and fury, she knew that even threatening him with the anger of the DeVeaux would not stop him from beating her to death now.

When Amiel swung his fist at her it hit her hard enough to send her staggering into one of the men guarding her. She cursed the man for that as it kept her upright and made it easier for Amiel to keep pummeling her. When the man finally moved, if only to get out of the way of Amiel’s flailing fists, she fell to the ground and braced herself for the hard kicks she knew would come next.

Instead, a heated argument ensued. She was fighting unconsciousness so fiercely that she caught only a few words, but Lord Ignace DeVeaux was mentioned several times. It was strange that the man’s name was not enough to terrify Amiel out of his rage, and she had to wonder if they were being chased by the winemaker and not the torturer. The men were still trying to remind Amiel yet again of his obligations, but she knew they would fail. She had seen her death in Amiel’s eyes.

She struggled up onto her hands and knees, and she prayed that Brian had returned for her and was, even now, coming to rescue her. It was the only hope she had of surviving.