Chapter Three

R ichard stood in the Empress’s bedchamber with the other knights who would join them this eve. Reynard and Elysande Norwood stood whispering to one another in a corner of the room. Newly married, they were lucky in that they would not be torn from one another’s side. The others were Blake Kennarde and Kingsley Goodee whom he had fought beside since the Battle of Lincoln over a year ago. Their other comrade in arms, Oswin Woodwarde had been none too pleased to be told he would remain behind to guard the Empress’s ladies in waiting.

Richard looked over the map of Oxford Castle and the outlying area one last time wondering how their party would make it past Stephen’s army that had them surrounded. But staying was not an option. Supplies were running out, and the harbor was also blocked from what they could gather, keeping their allies from coming to liberate them. Their initial hope that the Empress’s half-brother Robert of Gloucester would arrive at any time had diminished whilst each day had rolled into the next.

’Twas now almost mid-December and they had been held inside these walls since September. And while the Empress had sent her calvary out to seek those who still favored her before the gates closed months ago, no one had been able to come to her aid or bring reinforcements. She was tired, cold, and hungry as were the rest of them, and she had determined that she would no longer stay idly by and starve to death. Instead, she had planned her own escape.

“You are certain, my Empress, that you wish to proceed,” Richard asked one last time. As much as he understood her reasons for wishing to escape, the risks were so great that he still held on to hope that she might change her mind.

“Aye, Grancourt. I will not let Stephen determine my fate nor will he keep me under his thumb another day longer.”

“Then let us away and pray to God that all will be in our favor,” Richard said before heading to the door. Their small party followed him.

They quietly made their way down the passageway, down one of the back stairs, and through the deserted kitchen. At this hour of the night, all was quiet. The fresh fallen snow that blanketed the earth would fit in perfectly with the empress’s plans to make her escape, since the Empress had had her ladies prepare cloaks made of white to help them blend in with the winter wonderland all around them. In this dangerous enterprise, these small precautions could make the difference between safe concealment and a disastrous capture.

They left the keep through the rear door and a blast of frigid cold air almost sucked the breath right out of Richard. But he continued onward toward the postern gate. There could be no denying the brisk chill in the air would hinder their progress. Richard could only hope that Reynard’s wife, along with the Empress, would be able to endure what was ahead of them.

Richard turned to quietly address the group before opening the gate door. “Remember… your silence is imperative for this plan to work. We must needs tread carefully once outside this gate as our enemy will be near at every turn.”

The Empress took hold of Richard’s arm. “Let us proceed, Grancourt. We have a long journey ahead of us once we cross the river.”

A brief thought flashed through Richard’s mind of the ice cracking on the mighty Thames River that they needed to cross. Drowning in the churning frozen water would be a miserable way to die if the ice did not hold until they reached the other side’s bank.

But they would have to risk it. Any chance to change their minds was gone once Richard led them through the postern gate and they all began tip toeing through the forces that were surrounding them. Richard held his breath whilst they made progress over the snow-covered ground. He took a glance over his shoulder and could see that the Empress’s cloak was already wet at the hem. Soon the weight of the garment would hinder her ability to move quickly. But their monarch was a woman of iron will and thus far, she showed no signs of lagging. Their luck held and no one confronted them as they made progress over the frozen ground. Reynard and Elysande exchanged a smile causing Richard to frown. ’Twas too soon to celebrate that they had made their escape.

They were just rounding a tent on the outskirts of the enemy’s camp when disaster struck. A knight stepped from his tent bumping straight into Richard.

“You!” a voice hissed.

Before their enemy could sound any sort of an alarm in the still quiet of the night, Richard took hold of the knight and muffled the cry by placing his hand over the captive’s mouth.

The Empress stepped forward. “You know this person, Grancourt?” she softly asked before looking in every direction for another guard to jump out at them.

“Aye, my Empress, and he is a she ,” Richard answered taking a firm hold of the woman he had previously encountered not only at Winchester but also fought against at this very castle in September.

Reynard pulled Elysande closer whilst they tried to reassess their dire situation with this new complication. “Bloody hell,” he murmured.

The Empress looked at the young woman who glared at those around her with hatred flashing in her eyes. “This changes our plans only somewhat. Take her back to the castle, Grancourt, since you are previously acquainted with this… lady . Norwood, you take the lead whilst Elysande stays with me. Kennarde and Goodee can bring up the rear and watch for threats from behind.”

Richard pulled the struggling woman closer before turning to Reynard. “Be as quiet as possible as sound will travel. Watch them all and above all your back.”

“Aye, I will, and you do the same, brother,” Reynard replied before kissing his wife’s cheek and turning to leave.

Richard wished he could say more in the way of a farewell to the man. Reynard was like a younger brother to him, much like Wymar and Theobald. But there was no time for sentiments. Not when the woman he held began to squirm in his arms.

“Let us away and be quiet,” he ordered as he began pulling the woman back toward the castle. But she was not an easy conquest to bend to his will. Though he was larger and stronger, she refused to submit and she did her best to free herself from his grasp.

She kicked, pulled, and pushed him until Richard felt his shins would never recover. When she drew her knee up, she narrowly missed his privates and Richard growled in frustration. This was certainly not what he had expected would go wrong with their night. There was, however, a certain amount of satisfaction knowing he had finally caught this troublesome woman who had escaped him for nigh unto a year!

They finally neared the postern gate and Richard called up to get the attention of one of the guards above. A few minutes later, the gate was opened and Richard, along with his captive, slipped through the door before it once more slammed shut.

He was about to let go of her mouth when she bit his gloved hand. He let out a cry, more of shock than of pain, and released the woman, allowing her to go free. She began to run away from him—but where she thought she was going Richard had no idea. He easily caught up with her and took hold of her arm once more.

“You little hellcat,” he cursed tearing off his glove and feeling the slight imprint of her teeth marking his flesh.

“You have no right to take me captive,” she sneered in contempt. “Let me go and no other harm will befall you.”

Damn but she is a bold one , he thought whilst he lifted one dark brow. “You are not going anywhere. You slipped away from me at Winchester and months ago before this castle fell, but you shall not get away so easily this time.”

“Winchester? I do not recall fighting you there,” she said frowning.

“There was a lot going on. Mayhap you did not notice me—but I noticed you ,” Richard began. “You were fighting with another woman knight… red hair… I am certain you must remember her .”

The lady’s eyes widened as though his words had stirred her memory. “She would be hard to forget. There are not many women who would dare fight for a cause they believe in.”

“And you believe in Stephen’s cause?” Richard asked guiding her through the bailey.

She shrugged. “His cause has as much merit as does the Empress’s, I suppose.”

A snort left Richard. “If you believe he is the rightful ruler, then ’tis a good thing you will no longer fight on his behalf.”

“You know nothing about me or my reasons for doing what I must. You have no right—”

“I have every right,” he bellowed before checking his anger. “You killed enough of my comrades between the last two battles. You shall not go free to continue fighting in Stephen’s name.”

“Where are you taking me?” she questioned him, making an attempt to dig her boots into the snow beneath their feet. Such an effort did not have the desired results and only caused her to stumble into him when he gave a hard yank on her arm.

They came chest to chest and Richard could imagine how every inch of her glorious body would feel against his if he had not been wearing his chainmail. She had evidently been on her way to take care of her personal business, for she only wore tunic and hose beneath her cloak. Her chest heaved whilst taking in large gulps of air.

The moon decided to peek out from behind the clouds and Richard was at last able to take a leisurely look upon the lady. Tawny hair that reminded him of a lion’s fur framed a round face with a pert nose. Full red lips were parted slightly before she bit her lower lip as she raised green eyes up to him. If he did not consider her his enemy, he would have been tempted to bend forward and seal those lips with a kiss. She was a tempting vixen, but he would not fall for her ploy to gain his confidence and trust.

Nay! He would not allow this lady to cloud his thoughts. Instead of giving in to his baser instincts, he pulled her toward the kitchen entrance to the keep. Once inside, he continued onward until he came before the turrets that held his own bedchamber. He continued dragging her along up the winding stairs. When they reached his room, he opened the door and pushed her inside before slamming the bolt into place.

“You shall sleep in here with me until I know I can trust you,” Richard began before he held up his hand to halt her protest, “and that is not open to negotiation. Be happy you are not residing in the Empress’s pit.”

He went across the room to use some of the last remaining firewood to warm the room. Once the fire was going, he motioned for her to take a chair. Turning away from the woman who threw him a warning glare, he removed his cloak and flung it over the wooden chest at the foot of his bed. He stared at the mattress wondering what in the bloody hell he was going to do with her now!