Knight Defender (Knight Chronicles) Read online

  He shrugged and sipped his ale. “I am here at your request, my lady. I’m a busy man, and you can’t expect me to wait all night.”

  She drew herself up and spoke coldly. “I invited you to sup with me. Nothing more.”

  “Now, now, Lady Jessamyn, don’t get yourself in a lather. We both know that you wanted a little slap and tickle, or you’d not have invited me at all.”

  “Hmph.” She stuck her nose in the air. “I am sorry if you misunderstood me, but I’m not in the habit of fornicating with every man I meet.”

  His eyes narrowed and he stood, stalking her. “Oh, I understood you right enough. However, you only have to fornicate with me. I’m not in the mood to share.”

  He’d placed himself between her and the door. Holding his gaze, she backed toward the bed, lifting the poker to threaten him. “And I am not in the mood to be your leman.”

  She couldn’t let this happen, but she had to get those keys. She glanced toward his belt to be certain they were there.

  He moved as if to leap at her but crumpled to the floor instead, arms clasping his gut. “Oooohh. What have you done to me, you bitch?”

  A rank odor assailed her as the soapwort did its worst and he soiled his breeches.

  Nose wrinkled, she looked down at him with disgust. “Nothing that you don’t deserve. Although I’m sorry, you probably don’t deserve this.”

  She brought the poker down on his head, trying to hit him only so hard as to knock him out. She needed him to be incapable of raising the alarm. She didn’t need him dead.

  He went limp, and she could only pray that she’d succeeded in not killing him. Quickly she removed the keys from his belt, then gathering the pitcher of ale, she headed for the dungeons. As she left the building, she saw Gillam nod at her from a corner then race away when she nodded back.

  • • •

  Raeb rolled his shoulders, giving temporary ease to the ache from having his hands manacled above his head for he knew not how long. He wished he could ease the pain in his head too.

  Dawson had beaten him senseless, just for being a Scot. Of course when Raeb had tried to explain that he was a friend of Baron Ravensmere, Dawson had laughed.

  “The idea that the Clarwyn family would befriend a dirty Scot is absurd. You’re a Scottish spy, and you’ll tell me everything about what you’re doing on Ravensmere lands.”

  Then the beating had commenced. When the knight got bored with Raeb’s refusal to talk, he’d ordered his men to continue two at a time, proving that even if one of them might believe Raeb, they’d not go against their captain. Eventually, Raeb had lost consciousness, and his hosts must have abandoned him, for he came to his senses alone.

  He’d done his best to check his body for broken bones and was pleased to find none. Then he’d shouted himself hoarse, asking for water to break his thirst.

  No one came down the stairs that spiraled up the side of the circular dungeon as light faded from the single opening high in the wall. So he sat in the dark, plotting how best to escape and serve Dawson with equal courtesy.

  He must have dozed; the sound of footsteps on the stairs woke him.

  “Have you come to beat me some more, you cowards? For only cowards attack a chained man.”

  “Shh.”

  He lifted his head, studying the dark for any indication of motion. “I’ll no sush t’ please a filthy English bugger.”

  Above on the stair, a glow grew in brightness. Eventually a skirt came in to view.

  “If you think to tempt me with whores, I’ll tell you again that I’m no a spy.”

  The feminine form that emerged from the stairwell was slim and tall. Almost as tall as … He shook his head and wished he hadn’t when the ache in his skull became a multitude of pains.

  “I should turn around right now and leave you here. I am no whore, sirrah.”

  “Jessamyn?”

  “Shh.” She placed the torch in the sconce nearest the bottom of the stairs.

  He lowered his voice. “How? What? Where did you … ?”

  She was on the floor now approaching him with a ring of keys in her hand. “Hush, we don’t want to draw any attention. I’ll explain everything, but we’ve got to get away first.”

  “I agree with that. Do you have horses ready?” He kept his voice low.

  “Yes. Persia and the brute you were carried in on await us in the stables, and the postern gate has been left open for us.”

  She unlocked the manacles then helped him stand and restore feeling to his arms.

  “Are you ready?”

  “Aye, but tell me why I should trust you. You’ve betrayed me more than once.”

  “Because I just released you and am about to place a sword and dirk in your hands and leave myself weaponless.”

  She wasn’t weaponless, but he knew that speaking eyes and a luring smile were of as little use in a pitched battle as knives of betrayal and darts of falsehood.

  “Where did you get these?”

  “I pilfered them from the armory.”

  “And the keys?”

  “Later. We’ve got to leave.”

  “No, I do not think you will.” The familiar voice came from the foot of the stairs.

  “Let me handle this,” Jessamyn said. She placed herself between him and the man holding a sword on them.

  Foolish woman, does she think to protect me, or is it a ruse?

  Raeb grasped her shoulder and moved her aside. “Robert Clarwyn, ’tis Raeb MacKai.”

  “Raeb?”

  The sword was sheathed in an instant, and the man crossed the floor to clasp him by the arms.

  “Aye. Your man, Dawson, said you were away with your wife on Longshanks’ business. What brought you home at this time?”

  “Several of my men were supposed to bring a small gift I had made for the king; it is necessary now and then to keep Edward believing I still love him. When my men didn’t arrive, I came to discover what delayed them. Now tell me what are you doing here in my dungeon and with such a lovely damsel?” Ravensmere turned assessing blue eyes on Jessamyn.

  “Dawson thought I was a spy, and the lady is my betrothed. So hands off,” Raeb warned.

  “Betrothed? Don’t tell me this is the beautiful Lady Jessamyn Du Grace, whom Edward sent to lure you into his trap.”

  “Trap? What trap?”

  “That’s right, I didn’t make this latest discovery until after your man Dougal began his journey north. Our good King Edward I is sending twice the number of men and ships as originally stated. Since his plans to take over Strathnaver failed, he intends to have his men subdue Dungarob keep so he can use it as a base of operations for conquering Scotland as he did Wales. You are to be imprisoned or put to the sword, if you do not die in battle, and Lady Jessamyn is to be returned to her father with a vastly increased dowry from her godfather, the king.”

  Raeb clenched his teeth hard enough to nearly break his jaw.

  “But how is this possible?” Jessamyn asked. “Surely my maid has not been able to deliver my message to Edward yet?”

  “As a matter of fact, she did. The ship she took met with very fair winds. She arrived several days ago. Edward had a good laugh when he read your missive.”

  “A good laugh?”

  “Missive?” Raeb swung his head toward Jessamyn, and his eyes narrowed.

  She pointed her chin in the air. “I overheard you plotting with Dougal and wrote a note telling all to my godfather.”

  If she’d sent a note to Edward, why was she here? She was safe enough at Dungarob, especially if she knew her godfather sent troops to rescue her.

  “Taking over Dungarob keep has been Edward’s plan all along,” Clarwyn said. “Though he did not reveal it to most of his inner circle until that message arrived and he explained the cause of his laughter.”

  “You’re a spy,” she sneered.

  “Not precisely. I simply see things differently than my king at the moment.”

  “Aye.” Rae
b wanted to throttle her and kiss her at the same time. She’d hurt him, yet he could not seem to act with any sense when she was near. And she still kept something from him. Her presence here made no sense. Regardless, he’d be better off without her. Striding to her, he grasped both her wrists in one hand, taking the keys as he did. “Clarwyn has reason to dislike Edward, though we’ve been careful to cause England’s king to believe otherwise. But unlike my friend, you, Lady Du Grace, have made your last betrayal.”

  “What are you going to do?” Her voice wavered, and she looked at him with sorrow in her eyes.

  “Yes, Raeb, exactly what do you plan?” Ravensmere asked.

  “I thought I’d leave the lying lady here, manacled in your dungeon where she can do nae more harm.” He turned his head to look at his friend since he could no longer bear Jessamyn’s anguish.

  Clarwyn rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger. “I don’t think you should do that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because my guards obviously think you are a spy, and if they even suspect that I let you go without a fight, I risk exposing my activities to Edward. What’s happened to my guard, by the way?”

  Raeb watched a flush color Jess’s cheeks.

  “I’m to blame for that.” She hung her head. “I, ah, had to distract your captain from his duties long enough to release Raeb and get him away from here.”

  Raeb blinked. That made even less sense than her leaving Dungarob. Why rescue him when his keep was more vulnerable without its baron?

  “Ah,” Clarwyn said, smiling. “And just how did you distract Sir Dawson?”

  “Um, I put soapwort in his ale. I also made certain that the other guards had the same ale. They should all be discommoded for quite some time.”

  Clarwyn tossed his head back and laughed. “So you are in the midst of engineering Raeb’s release. ’Tis best if he continue his escape, and you must go with him, Lady Du Grace.”

  “Before I go anywhere, I must assure myself of my maid’s safety.” Given that Raeb still manacled Jess’s wrists with an iron grip, her bravado should have surprised him. It didn’t; she had always spoken her mind and acted as if the world were hers to order to her liking. She might be kind and generous, but she was also willful and imperious. ’Twas that, he supposed, which allowed her to break her vow on a whim.

  Clarwyn smiled. “I can tell you that your maid, having delivered her message, took passage on a ship bound for northern Scotland. She told the king’s man who took the message to Edward that she’d left you on your orders and must return to see you were safe with the, er, wild Scot to whom you were promised.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Jessamyn fluttered her eyelashes and smiled back at Clarwyn.

  Raeb frowned at the exchange. Though why he should care if his friend fell for her lying smiles, he did not know.

  “Then all is settled. You will return to Scotland with Baron MacKai.”

  “I dinna want her.” Unreasonably eager to stop their nattering, he nearly shouted the words. Immediately he felt a flush heat his neck. Was he was that close to losing control?

  “Too bad my friend,” Clarwyn said. “You’ll have to keep her until you can give her back to her father yourself. After you gather more men and defeat Edward’s troops, which are already on their way.”

  With his hands still on Jess’s wrists, Raeb shook his head at what he knew he must do. “You’re right. I must return to Dungarob. And to keep Jessamyn from running to her godfather, she’ll have to come with me. But what of you?”

  Clarwyn’s smile broadened. “You will lock me in those manacles you so recently wore, but not before you render me unconscious. When I recover, I’ll make sure the hounds are not used to track you.”

  “You want him to hit you hard enough to knock you out?” Astonishment colored his betrothed’s voice.

  “Yes. And, Raeb, make it look good. I would not want my guards to think I let a Scot get the better of me too easily.”

  “Verra well.” Raeb let go of Jessamyn. He pulled his free arm back ready to deliver a blow.

  Clarwyn held up his hand. “One more thing. I’ll remind you that when I arrived, Lady Du Grace was helping you escape. When you finally have time, promise you’ll listen carefully to her explanation before you judge her too harshly.”

  “I dinna wish t’ promise. I know too well what kind of woman she is and what motivates her,” he lied. Her actions were incomprehensible.

  “Do it for sake of our friendship. I know whereof I speak, for I once failed to listen to Juliana. ’Tis a wonder she wed me anyway.”

  Raeb cast a glance Jessamyn’s way to see her rubbing at her wrists. Her gaze met his, and in her eyes he recognized desolation like he’d felt when told his parents were dead.

  “Jessamyn?”

  She turned her head away.

  Raeb shifted back to Clarwyn. “All right, I promise, but you owe me.”

  One corner of the man’s mouth kicked up. “Somehow, I think it is you who will be owing me.”

  “Gentlemen, the guard won’t be distracted forever. We need to leave now.” Jessamyn glanced nervously at the stairs.

  “Aye.” Raeb frowned at her. “Can I trust you no to raise the alarm?

  “Why would I do that when I’ve gone to so much trouble to disable the guard?”

  Aye, why would she? Why incapacitate the guards? Why leave Dungarob at all? She had much to answer for.

  “Then go to the top of the stairs and check to see if the way to the stables is still clear.”

  Jessamyn nodded and left.

  “She loves you, you know,” Clarwyn said as he braced himself for the blow to come.

  “I’m no so sure. But thank you for giving me this chance to vent my anger.” With that he struck his friend, laying him out with one hit.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Under cloudy night skies, Raeb crept with Jessamyn toward the stables. They were lucky enough to encounter no one. She kept watch while he retrieved the saddled horses then muffled their hooves with rags. He handed Jessamyn her mare’s reins.

  “Follow me to the postern?” He breathed the words next to her ear. “And you are certain ’tis no watched?”

  She nodded and moved into position behind him.

  “I doubt any of the guards are able to stand right now. But I don’t know how long that will last.”

  “Then we’d best no delay.”

  The postern gate opened silently onto a road that led to a nearby village. ’Twas the only path available, so he trusted darkness to hide them until a short time later when they left the road for the trees.

  Raeb paused long enough to remove the cloth from the horses’ hooves before helping her to mount.

  They’d gone only a little way into the forest when the noise of several riders caused him to halt. He groped for Persia’s reins, stopping Jess. He could scarcely see her in the gloom, so he uttered a quiet “shh.”

  She gave a nod and stroked her mare’s neck to reassure the steed. Fortunately, the chestnut destrier Raeb had borrowed was well trained and stood quietly awaiting its rider’s next command. Silence reigned for some time before Raeb pointed to his left and quietly told Jess, “Head west. I’ll be right behind you.”

  Wordless, she set her mount in motion.

  Raeb followed close. Had her horse not been pure white, he’d never have seen her. ’Twas part of the reason to have her go first. From behind, his darker mount would hide the mare and its rider. The position also allowed Raeb to keep a close eye on Jessamyn. She’d not escape to carry tales to her godfather. Too bad keeping watch on her compelled him to observe the sway of her hips as she rode, making his cock harden. That brainless part of him caused Raeb no little pain and a lot of anguish as images of Jessamyn naked and riding him seized his mind and body.

  He bit the inside of his cheek and forced himself to focus on their surroundings. The trees stood close together with just enough room to squeeze between the thick trunks. Too often the way
was blocked. He and Jessamyn lost much time skirting around deadfalls and impassable walls of thorny brush. As the dim light of dawn filtered through the trees, the ancient forest gave way to newer growth. Still he did not hear the stream until they were nearly upon it, and Jess’s small mare stopped of its own accord.

  Throughout the long night ride he’d heard little but the shuffle of the horses’ hooves and the distant cry of a lone wolf. Jessamyn had spoken not a word, even when he was certain they were beyond the hearing of any human being. She’d kept silent. Her shoulders hunched but otherwise she was relaxed in the saddle. What was wrong with her? Had his anger over her betrayal cowed her so much that she dared not speak for fear of sparking his temper again? Despite the hurt she’d inflicted on him, he hadn’t shown that much anger—had he? He wouldn’t, for she’d know exactly how much personal damage she’d done if he’d unleashed his fury.

  So if she didn’t think him angry, why keep silent? Where was the talkative, spirited woman who’d lightened his world, even when he least wanted her to?

  Raeb maneuvered beside Jessamyn and peered over the crumbling edge of the creek bank.

  “Do you know this stream?” she asked, the neutral words a balm to his worries.

  He shook his head. “What I do know is that it flows from the north. If we follow it to its source, we should be well on our way back to Scotland with very little chance of encountering any Englishman. They prefer to ride on roads, being too delicate for the strains of rougher paths.” That should ignite the fiery spirit that had challenged him during their first weeks together.

  She shrugged and guided her mount upstream.

  “We’ll need to cross at the first good ford.”

  A single nod was all the acknowledgment he received.

  He might despise what she’d done in breaking her vow to him, but even so, he’d not wish to see her so unnaturally quiet, as if the dark of night possessed her soul.

  They rode for the entire night and half the next day before finding a ford the horses could manage. The water came up to Persia’s withers, and Jess’s clothing was soaked to the waist.

  They emerged on the west side of the stream, and Raeb waited, expecting Jessamyn to insist they stop and allow her garments to dry.