A Loyal Heart Page 2

  “Stop!” the Moor cried, backing away from his opponents, his attention fixed upon the blade at the boy’s throat. “We surrender!”

  The fright in the dark-skinned man’s eyes told me more than words. This boy I had within my grasp was someone of importance, someone the Moor had been willing to defend to the death.

  “Cease your fighting,” I commanded my men.

  They complied and dropped their swords to their sides but without taking their attention from the Moor. I had no doubt he would have killed my knights if he’d been given the chance to fight them long enough. Already one was wounded and favoring his non-fighting arm.

  The boy squirmed against me, and I loosened the knife at his throat, not wishing to cause him more harm. He wasn’t seasoned. The slender fingers, clean fingernails, and unblemished skin told me he hadn’t been in battle before.

  Who was he?

  Before surrounding Ludlow Castle, my sources had informed me the earl’s daughters were inside but that his young son lived at one of his other residences.

  Had my sources been wrong about the son? Was this the earl’s heir after all? I’d assumed he was but a young child. Had I misinterpreted the information?

  The Moor’s eyes glittered with a determination that warned me not to trust him. He’d lash out and kill all three of us as soon as he could manage it.

  “Bind the Moor,” I ordered.

  He started to resist.

  I tightened the dagger against my prisoner’s throat. The young man released a cry of pain—a very unmanly cry. But the cry—as I’d suspected—was all it took to make the Moor submit. His easy acquiescence only confirmed the importance of my captive.

  I waited patiently as my men used the cord from the bed curtain to fasten the Moor’s arms behind his back. Even then, I wasn’t sure the man was contained. “Tie him to the chair.”

  As my men worked to further secure the Moor, the knights I’d sent to explore the other chambers in the living quarters returned. They were empty-handed. “No sign of the daughters, Sir Aldric.”

  I’d sensed the Moor had been lying when he’d claimed that the earl’s daughters had escaped. But what if my instincts were wrong? It would be a first.

  And if I failed this mission, it would also be a first. During the year I’d been working for Lord Pitt, I hadn’t failed a single mission. In fact, I’d been so successful Pitt had made me captain of his army.

  More importantly, he’d finally offered me forgiveness for my debt and the grievances against him. I’d long since repaid him two times the amount I’d owed. I’d also long since reimbursed the other lords. My gambling debts were gone. And I’d even managed to replenish Maidstone’s coffers. Although my brother Bennet and his wife Sabine hadn’t wanted my repayment for the sacrifices they’d made for me, they hadn’t been able to turn down my occasional gifts—the relics and artwork I gleaned on my raids.

  Already in my short time within Ludlow Castle, I’d noted that the keep contained a wealth of treasures sure to please Pitt. As always, he’d pay me for my service to him by giving me a portion of the spoils. However, this time, Pitt had entrusted me not only with bringing him the wealth inside the castle but with capturing the earl’s children.

  If the mission hadn’t come down from the king himself, I likely wouldn’t have agreed to command the troops. It was one thing to lead raids against criminals and rogues and rebels of the crown. It was another thing entirely to involve families, particularly innocent children. Even if Pitt and the king had good reason to take the earl’s daughters, I wasn’t fully convinced their plan was justified.

  Whatever the case, I’d committed myself and now would see the mission through to completion. That meant finding the earl’s daughters and delivering them to Pitt.

  I studied the Moor a moment longer, his face now impassive and giving nothing away. This young man within my grasp was the key in getting the Moor to divulge his secrets. Without releasing the knife’s pressure at the boy’s throat, I grabbed one of his slender hands and held it up.

  “I will give you to the count of five to tell me where the earl’s daughters really are, or I’ll start cutting off this boy’s fingers.” My tone was rigid and uncompromising. I wouldn’t cut off his fingers, but they didn’t know that.

  “One, two, three . . .”

  The Moor made eye contact with the boy who shook his head, as if in warning. Apparently he and the Moor were working together at hiding the daughters.

  “Four, five.” I flipped the knife from the boy’s throat to his hand and pressed the knife against his thumb.

  “Wait!” came a girl’s voice behind me.

  I glanced over my shoulder to see a pale-faced young girl stumble out of a side door. Her blue eyes were frightened, her golden hair in disarray, and her bodice askew as though she’d begun to change but hadn’t finished.

  At the same moment, I could sense the change in posture of my captive, the slow sag in his shoulders and the draining of his resistance.

  “Please don’t hurt her.” The girl’s voice trembled and tears streaked her cheeks.

  Her?

  I spun my prisoner and wrenched the helmet away, revealing a woman’s beautiful face with high cheekbones, an elegant nose, and full lips. Although her red hair was pulled back into a messy knot, strands had come loose and framed her smooth, unblemished skin. If she wasn’t already stunning enough, her brilliant green eyes framed by long dark lashes made her more so.

  Eyes that peered at me with contempt.

  As a wave of self-loathing washed over me, I slackened my hold on her. I’d fought against a lady, pressed a knife to her throat, and threatened to cut off her thumb. Only the worst kind of brutes engaged in such treatment of women, and I didn’t consider myself to be one of them. No matter how low I’d once sunk into gambling and drinking, I’d always treated women with the respect they were due. And that hadn’t changed.

  “I beg your forgiveness, my lady.” I released her and tossed her dagger to the bed. “I didn’t realize you were a woman or I wouldn’t have—”

  In an instant, she scooped her sword from the floor and pressed the tip into the slit in my gorget against my neck. Her lovely chin rose a notch, and her green eyes glinted with anger. “Tell your men to release my servant. Let him take my sister away, and I shall hand myself over to you.”

  “No, Olivia,” the young blond-haired woman said, shaking her head frantically.

  Olivia Norfolk. The eldest daughter of the Earl of Ulster. From her beauty, I should have guessed her identity. I’d overheard other noblemen speak about the earl’s strikingly beautiful daughters, but I hadn’t expected Olivia to be quite so vibrant, so alive, so exquisite.

  I found myself unable to move, unable to do anything except stare at her. It was quite clear her beauty had the capability of casting a spell upon men, rendering them into marble sculptures.

  “Go now, Izzy,” Olivia said to the other woman, who was decidedly younger, most likely the earl’s other daughter, Isabelle Norfolk.

  Now that I’d discovered who I was looking for, doubts rose to assail me. I couldn’t take these two innocent women as prisoners back to Pitt, could I? They weren’t a part of the earl’s schemes, and they surely didn’t deserve to suffer for their father’s evil plots.

  Maybe if I let them escape, I could find a viable excuse to give Pitt regarding my failed mission.

  Just as soon as the thought came, I let it pass. The Earl of Ulster was stirring up dissension against the king. Already the Marcher barons resisted submitting to the king, often refusing to pay taxes and follow his laws. As one of the strongest leaders, the earl was attempting to strengthen alliances among the border lords as well as the Welsh. Everyone knew such alliances would only end in outright war against the king.

  But if we stopped the earl now and forced him into compliance with the king, we would weaken the alliances and set an example for all the other Marcher barons. I’d agreed with Pitt and the king that taking t
he earl’s daughters as prisoners and holding them for ransom would force the earl to submit. I couldn’t throw away the plans now.

  “Make haste, Izzy.” Olivia’s voice turned urgent, and her sister’s eyes widened, flickering back and forth between Olivia and the Moor who was still bound securely in the chair.

  As if sensing that her sister was too frightened to go anywhere on her own, Olivia thrust the tip of her sword further into my gorget and motioned to my men. “Let Cecil go this instant, or I shall kill your commander.”

  The knights hurried toward the Moor.

  I sighed at their lack of confidence in my abilities. After watching me fight these many months, surely they knew I wouldn’t succumb so easily.

  I jerked backward, breaking the connection with Olivia’s sword. At the same time I brought my forearm up with enough power to knock the weapon from her grip. It flew into the air. I caught it then spun and pointed the blade against the Moor’s chest.

  The man didn’t flinch, not even to blink.

  In addition to having a weak spot for her sister, Olivia had one for this servant. She’d given away as much in the few minutes I’d observed her. Concern for him had likely brought her out of the boudoir in the first place. Now I would use that knowledge against her.

  “My lady.” I adjusted the hilt and tested the light weight, guessing the sword had been handcrafted just for her. She had some skill with her weapon, had been trained well. But no matter her abilities, I was stronger, more experienced, and more capable. She’d never be able to outfight or outwit me. She needed to know the battle was over and that she must surrender graciously or it wouldn’t go well for her.

  “I am under orders to deliver you and your sister to Lord Pitt alive.” I moved the sharp blade of her sword near the Moor’s face. “If you cooperate, I shall spare your servants any ill will.”

  I lifted my gaze to hers, to those startlingly green eyes that now glittered with haughty anger. “But if you fail to submit to my command, you’ll force me to find less pleasant ways to do my job.” Without breaking my gaze from hers, I sliced off the tip of the Moor’s pointed goatee so that black wiry hair drifted to his lap.

  Her attention flickered to her servant, a shadow of anxiety flitting across her features. Yet even with her concern for the man she’d called Cecil, she jutted her chin stubbornly. “Take me, but leave my sister.”

  Keeping a hard, unrelenting glare upon Olivia, I sliced the servant’s goatee again, this time purposefully grazing his chin.

  She winced at the sight of the blood I’d drawn. I knew without looking the wound was only skin deep, but I hoped it was enough to scare her.

  For several taut moments, she held the gaze of her servant, silent communication passing between them, in which I guessed he was admonishing her to comply. At least for now. Not because he feared for his own life or what I might do to him. He’d fought too fearlessly earlier to care about what became of himself. Rather he wisely realized Olivia and her sister had no other choice. They were my prisoners and there was nothing he or anyone else could do about it.

  Finally, she straightened her shoulders and held her head high. Contempt flashed in her eyes. “Very well, sir. I will surrender to you as long as you vow you will leave my household unharmed.”

  “You have my word.” I had a sudden urge to correct the way she’d addressed me. As the oldest son, I’d inherited my father’s title, Baron of Windsor. The proper address was my lord or Lord Windsor. Sir was the address given to untitled knights, not lords of manors.

  Somehow, I sensed that such titles were very important to Lady Olivia, that she might respect me more if I revealed my true identity. Yet, in the year I’d been working for Pitt, I’d neglected my titles and privileges. By doing so, I’d hoped to forget my old life and all the pain that had accompanied it.

  I’d worked hard and kept myself busy enough that the pain had turned into a dull ache locked away in the deep parts of my mind. And that’s where I wanted it to stay. It was better that way. For everybody.

  If Lady Olivia wanted to believe she was superior to me, I had no need to prove otherwise. She was simply my prisoner. My job was to deliver her to Pitt. Once I accomplished that, I’d never have to speak with her again.

  Chapter

  3

  I scanned the barren heathland. There were so few hiding places. When I escaped with Izzy—and I would escape—I needed more cover besides the heather and gorse and the occasional orchids with their white flowering spikes poking above the other vegetation like white flags of surrender.

  Had I done the right thing in surrendering to Lord Pitt’s commander?

  Izzy rode sidesaddle on her gentle mare next to my sturdy bay. In the heat of the June day, she’d gradually wilted as the day had progressed, like a primrose without a proper watering. Her light veil had provided some protection from the unrelenting sun, but the hard riding and the heat had taken their toll upon her. Her head bobbed as she dozed, and I woke her only when she was in danger of sliding off.

  Truthfully, the heat had sapped me of much needed energy as well. Now with onset of twilight, I prayed we’d both have the necessary fortitude to sneak away.

  We needed to do so before we were out of the Marches and too far away to seek aid. Of course we couldn’t return to Ludlow. Though Sir Aldric had burned only a few buildings and left most of the structure intact, we would find no refuge there, not with the walls down and the supplies ransacked.

  Rather, we would ride north to Depnor Castle and find sanctuary with the Marquess of Clearwater and Lionel. It was a full day’s hard ride, but we could do most of it under the cover of darkness—at least I hoped so. Even though our mounts would be tired, we would gain a lead and stay well ahead of any party that might come after us.

  Ahead, Sir Aldric rode a powerful warhorse and led his band of knights, forcing Izzy and me to ride at the center of the party, with the supply wagons bringing up the rear.

  The commander hadn’t spoken to me again since he’d left my chambers. He’d been too busy overseeing the pillage within the keep to stand guard over Izzy and me and had instead given us into the care of his knights while we’d dressed for traveling and packed a few clothing items. They’d behaved honorably toward us for which I was grateful.

  Now those knights rode in a tight formation around us, always vigilant, hemming us in so that we could go nowhere but forward.

  Perhaps Sir Aldric feared my father might be on his trail. I could only pray he was, that he’d arrived at Ludlow Castle today, found Cecil bound tightly to the chair, and learned of our fate.

  Whatever the case, I was confident Father would send a regiment to rescue Izzy and me just as soon as he heard of our capture. While he’d never been kind and warm like Mother, he was loyal, always loyal.

  “You must put aside your own desires for those of your family, Olivia,” he’d said to me often when I was growing up. “Your personal wishes must remain secondary to family. Family comes first above all else.”

  It was my duty to do whatever I could to help my father as he worked to maintain power and prestige among his peers. Then he’d be able to make a prized match for Izzy, just as he was doing for me. And he’d be able to pay for the rare medicines that would possibly cure Charles of his ailments.

  Yes, Father would send a search party to rescue us. But if he didn’t immediately get word of our capture, he’d be delayed in coming after us. In the meantime, I’d need to do all I could to escape from Lord Pitt’s clutches. Surely, at some point, I’d find a weakness among Sir Aldric’s men and their ability to keep watch, and when I did, I’d take full advantage of it.

  What I hadn’t yet figured out was why Lord Pitt wanted Izzy and me. From the moment his army had surrounded Ludlow, I’d suspected this had something to do with an offense my father had committed. He was a powerful man in the kingdom and had developed many enemies. There were even some who accused him of having secret alliances with the Welsh. Of course, all the baron m
agnates who lived in the Marcher borderlands came under suspicion of forming bonds with the neighboring Welsh, especially those like Father who were critical of the king from time to time.

  Even so, I couldn’t decide what charges Lord Pitt planned to level against my father and why he’d taken Izzy and me as his prisoners. If I’d had time to speak further with Sir Aldric, I would have interrogated him for the information.

  My sights strayed to his rigid back, his broad shoulders, and the mail hood that now replaced the plate armor. Without his helmet, I’d briefly glimpsed his profile and had been surprised to see how young he was. I’d expected someone much older and seasoned from years of battle, not a handsome warrior.

  Somehow knowing he was young and tough made the loss of my battle with him earlier sting a little less. If he’d been older with slower reflexes, perhaps I could have overpowered him. Whatever the case, I took satisfaction in the fact that I’d surprised him with my identity. I’d fought well enough under the circumstances that he hadn’t realized I was a woman until Izzy had made mention of it.

  Shouts drew my attention forward, and I soon discovered we were making camp for the night. A narrow gorge ahead contained a creek, which would provide refreshment not only for us but for our horses. As we came upon the gorge, I was pleased to see that tall grass and tangled brush bordered it. While not woodland or rock outcroppings, the brush would give Izzy and me some shelter during our getaway.

  All the while we ate our simple dinner of roasted lamb and barley bread, I used the remaining daylight to plot our escape route. When darkness finally fell, and we retired for the night, I was grateful for the small tent one of the knights erected for us.

  I wasn’t sure what treatment prisoners usually received, but I suspected most weren’t given the deference of a warm meal, much less a tent of their own. Sir Aldric had indicated that Lord Pitt wanted us alive, possibly unharmed. But that didn’t mean the captain was required to be polite and kind. I’d heard enough stories over the years to know that captured women and children were often considered dispensable—nothing more than spoils of war to be used up and cast aside.