Connie Mason (22 page)

Raven heaved a despondent sigh. She had to believe that Drake had defeated Waldo until word arrived announcing otherwise.

“Do not despair, Raven.”

Raven started violently. “Granny, you startled me.”

“You were lost in thought, my dear.”

“Was my despair so obvious?”

“Only to me, Raven.” Granny touched Raven’s arm. “Fear not; Drake lives.”

Raven’s heart leaped with renewed hope. “Are you sure?”

Granny’s bright eyes seemed to glow with inner knowledge as she stared at the distant hills. “Aye. Drake lives but he is in grave danger. You must prepare yourself.”

Raven’s heart, so hopeful scant moments before, was suddenly devoured by fear. “Prepare for what?”

“I know not,” Granny lamented. “I sense extreme tribulation and hardship in the near future. For your child’s sake,
you must persevere. Your survival will depend upon your cunning.”

Raven stopped thinking when Granny said she must persevere for her child’s sake. Her hands flew to her stomach. Was it possible? It was far too early to tell, for her courses weren’t due yet. Smiling dreamily, she recalled the day she and Drake had lain in the heather and made love. He had left shortly afterward, and she would not know if his seed grew in her for at least another week.

“A child?” She searched Granny’s face. If the Black Knight’s child grew within her, she would treasure it forever. “Will I give Drake a son?”

Granny smiled. “Only God knows that. I see naught but what He allows me to see.”

“What about Drake? Can you tell me more? Has he defeated Waldo?”

Granny shook her head. “My grandson suffers.” Her gnarled hands fluttered to her heart. “I feel it here.” Her small frame seemed to diminish before Raven’s eyes, and she staggered backward. “Soon you will be forced to make a decision, one only you can make. No one can help you.”

Raven leaped down from the wall and rushed to Granny’s aid. “Are you all right? Let me help you into the house.”

“Aye. There is naught we can do now but wait.”

Sir John arrived the following day. He had ridden straight from the battle and was exhausted. Raven saw him and held her breath, waiting for Drake to appear. When he did not, her heart plummeted. With a wail of despair, she ran out to meet him. He slid from the saddle and collapsed into her arms. Raven offered a supporting arm and helped him into the house. With the utmost restraint, she refrained from asking the question uppermost in her mind as she helped Sir John out of his armor and fetched him a drink of water. Granny hovered nearby, looking small and frail and extremely upset.

Unable to stand the suspense a moment longer, Raven blurted out, “Drake? Is he . . .”

John’s eyes met hers, then slid away. “He was alive the last I saw him.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I will start at the beginning,” John said. “We found Waldo and attacked at dawn. Things were going well until Duff showed up with his men. We had no idea Duff had chosen a separate campsite. When he arrived, we were sadly outnumbered. I fought at Drake’s back. He had his blade at Waldo’s neck when Duff showed up.”

“How did you escape?”

“A great many of our men escaped. Waldo was interested only in Drake. He let me go to deliver a message to you.”

A soft “ah” escaped Granny’s lips.

Raven girded herself for bad tidings. She knew it would not be pleasant. Nothing Waldo did was ever pleasant.

“Tell me, Sir John. What does Waldo demand of me?”

“First, I must tell you I am here against Drake’s wishes. He does not want you to sacrifice yourself for him. I disobeyed his wishes because I believe the choice should be yours to make.”

“Go on,” Raven demanded. She would do as her heart directed, no matter what Drake wanted.

“Waldo demands that you present yourself at Castle Chirk within a fortnight.”

“And if I do not?” Raven knew the consequences would be dire.

“He will kill Drake. I am sorry to put you in this position, Lady Raven, but ’tis your decision to make.”

The decision was not a difficult one for Raven. She faced Sir John squarely, her expression determined. “Aye, Sir John, the decision is mine, and I have made it.”

John seemed startled. “So soon? I beg you to think this over very carefully, my lady. Should you return to Waldo, you will be placing your life in serious jeopardy.”

Raven’s small chin went up. “Are you saying I should let Drake die?”

“Nay, my lady. I am only cautioning you against making a rash decision.”

Raven’s lips thinned. “How soon can we leave?”

“Give Sir John a day or two to rest, Raven,” Granny advised. “He has ridden hard to reach you with Waldo’s message. Chirk is but a two-day journey, and Waldo has allowed you a fortnight.”

“You do not know Waldo as I do, Granny. He could change his mind and kill Drake.” She winced. “Or torture him.”

“He gave his word,” Sir John injected.

“He will not kill Drake,” Granny said with conviction. “Not yet, anyway,” she added cryptically.

Raven took little comfort from Granny’s words. For all she knew the old woman predicted things she only wished would come true. She could trust no one but herself in this, and her decision had already been made. She loved Drake and would do anything to preserve his life. She knew Waldo would punish her, but she doubted he would kill her. His first wife had died under mysterious circumstances, and the king might question the sudden death of a second wife.

“Give me this day and night to rest, Raven,” Sir John said. “I am as anxious to reach Chirk as you are. Be ready to leave at daybreak.”

The dank, foul-smelling dungeon was just as he remembered. Drake lay unmoving on the putrid pile of rotting straw and tried to recall how many days had passed since Waldo had thrown him into the dark chamber beneath the castle.

Every bone in his body ached. Fortunately he could not recall much of the forced march to Chirk. When his feet had refused to keep pace with Waldo’s mount, he had been dragged along behind. His gambeson had saved him from serious injury, but his exposed skin had been scraped raw and at least
two of his ribs had been broken during that harrowing journey. He had been given neither food nor water, until Waldo, fearing he would die before Raven appeared, had allowed him small amounts of nourishment.

Had he been given time to heal, he would not be so weak. But Waldo had ordered a beating. There were times during the beating that Drake had wished for death, but the thought of leaving Raven to Waldo’s mercy had instilled in him the will to live. If they would just leave him alone long enough, he knew he would remember something of grave importance about the dungeon, something his fuzzy mind refused to grasp in his present condition.

With painful effort Drake lifted his head and stared through swollen eyes at the winding staircase and the locked door at the top. He had been here before; he was certain of it. And he remembered . . . He remembered . . . His head dropped to his chest. He could remember nothing; the pain pounding within his head robbed him of coherent thought. He closed his eyes and uttered a prayer for Raven’s safety. Would she throw caution to the wind and come to Chirk against his wishes? Knowing Raven, she would do the opposite of what he wanted her to do.

Suddenly a light appeared at the top of the stairs, and Drake heard shuffling footsteps and voices. He forced his eyes open and saw two men.

“Are you alive, Sir Bastard?” a harsh voice grated from the top landing.

Squinting toward the light, Drake saw his brother standing at the top of the stairs.

“I am alive, no thanks to you, brother.” Drake hated the weakness in his voice but could not help it.

“My man brings food and water,” Waldo said. “Enjoy it, for ’tis all you will get. When your whore arrives, you will have outlived your usefulness. Why waste good food on a corpse?”

Had Drake the strength he would have launched himself
up the stairs at Waldo for disparaging Raven. It took all the strength he could muster just to form a coherent reply. “You do not deserve a woman like Raven. Blame me for what happened, not her, for she is blameless.”

The guard placed a bucket of water and a trencher of food beside Drake. Drake thought he was hearing things when the man whispered as he backed away, “I will bring food and drink when I can, my lord.” Stunned and not knowing what to think, Drake watched warily as the guard ascended the stairs.

“Enjoy your meal, Sir Bastard,” Waldo taunted.

“Wait! Do not remove the torchlight. How do you expect me to eat what I cannot see? I am no animal.”

Waldo laughed, an eerie sound that drifted down to Drake on a chill breeze. “Look at you. You say you are no animal, but your best friend would not recognize you now, crouching like an animal in that dank straw. Very well. Never let it be said that Waldo of Eyre is a man without a heart. I will leave the torchlight here in the sconce. Think not about escape, for the door will be guarded at all times. Pray for your sins while you await death, Sir Bastard.”

The heavy door banged shut but the light remained, much to Drake’s relief. Though only a dim glow reached him, the torchlight provided sufficient light to afford him his first clear look at his surroundings. He rolled over on his side to reach for the trencher of food and sucked in his breath as pain shuddered through him. When the pain subsided, he pulled the trencher toward him, suddenly ravenous, and wolfed down the contents. He even consumed the trencher, which was made of bread so stale he nearly choked on it. Then he dipped his hand into the water and drank deeply.

Replete for the first time in days, he fell asleep. He wanted to be rested should the guards return to administer another beating. Mayhap when he awakened his mind would be clear enough to recall what he had been trying to remember.

Raven stared through the mist at the castle where she was born and had grown into womanhood. She and Sir John had halted at the edge of the forest that lay beyond the outer walls. The portcullis stood open and the drawbridge had been lowered over the moat. Though the castle appeared tranquil and inviting, Raven felt a deep foreboding inside her.

“I will go in alone,” Raven said. “You can be of more use to us outside than imprisoned within.”

“I cannot let you go alone, my lady.”

“This is my home, Sir John. Duff has not always been a good brother but I cannot believe he will allow Waldo to hurt me. Besides, I will refuse to cross the drawbridge unless Waldo can prove that Drake still lives. Remain here and be ready to ride if I turn away. I will not enter if Waldo cannot show me Drake.”

“Be wary, my lady. I trust Waldo not.”

“Nor do I, Sir John, nor do I.”

Raven guided her palfrey from the cover of trees and halted at the end of the drawbridge, close enough to be seen by the watchmen on the parapet. Almost immediately a watchman heralded her arrival. In an amazingly short time Waldo appeared on the parapet.

“So you came,” Waldo called out.

“Aye, I came,” Raven shouted in reply. “Where is Drake?”

“Come inside and I will show him to you.”

“Nay. I do not trust you. Show me Drake first. How do I know you have not slain him?”

“My own brother? You wound me sorely, wife. I have kept my word. The Black Knight still lives.”

“I do not envy you if you have taken Drake’s life,” Raven shouted. “The king thinks highly of his champion. You will be punished for what you have done to him.”

Waldo’s laughter drifted over her like an ominous cloud. “The king’s champion abducted my wife and deprived me of
my wedding night. Think you Edward will condone that kind of behavior from his own knight?”

“Show me Drake,” Raven demanded. Dread shivered through her. Was there some reason Waldo refused to bring Drake forth? Did her love still live?

“Very well,” Waldo roared, clearly angered by her refusal to surrender herself unconditionally. He turned to speak to one of his men, and Raven felt a modicum of satisfaction at having won the first round. “It will take a while to bring him up here.”

“Do not try to trick me, Waldo. And do not send your men from the castle to seize me, for I can outrun them and disappear forever.”

Ready to turn her horse and bolt should the situation demand it, Raven waited impatiently for Drake to appear on the parapet.

Three whole days had passed since his last beating, allowing Drake to regain some of his former strength. The friendly knight had managed to sneak food and water to him just once, but Drake was grateful for whatever the man provided. He had even wrapped his broken ribs and provided salve for his injuries. He had also told Drake that there were men among Waldo’s army who respected the Black Knight and did not like what Waldo was doing to him.

Unfortunately, fear of Waldo’s wrath prevented them or any of Chirk’s servants from helping him escape. But now that Drake’s mind was functioning again, he began to recall something very important from his childhood days at Chirk, something that gave him hope.

Drake’s thoughts scattered as he felt a draft coming from the open door at the top of the stairs. Someone was descending the stairs. It was two men-at-arms wearing Eyre colors. He sensed danger and braced himself.

“You are wanted above,” one of the men said in a growl.
Pain exploded through him as he was seized and dragged up the stone stairs. Light exploded before his eyes, momentarily blinding him after living in the dark for so long. Holding his ribs, he fought to catch his breath as the guards pulled him up along a flight of stairs winding to the parapets.

“Where are you taking me?” Drake said with a gasp.

“Our liege lord commands your presence on the parapet,” the guards informed him.

The parapet! Waldo must have decided to fling him over the parapet to his death. Then another thought occurred. If Waldo no longer needed him alive, did that mean that Raven had refused to return to Chirk? Though it meant his death, Drake was comforted by the knowledge that Raven was still with Granny, where her husband could not hurt her.

He learned how wrong he was when he reached the parapet and saw Raven seated on her white mare just beyond the moat.