Fragments of Grace (Prequel to the Dragonblade Trilogy) (47 page)

As the brutal struggle progressed, someone inside of
Aysgarth shouted for the archers to cease their fire and more men joined in the
battle to pull Keir to safety while Ingilby himself had Keir by a leg, yanking
with all his might to pull him in the opposite direction.  A couple of Aysgarth
archers positioned themselves inside the gatehouse and aimed at Ingilby’s men
through the portcullis, striking down two of them.  Blanche and the other
soldiers managed to pull Keir about half way inside the gatehouse, but someone
from Ingilby’s side was smart enough to lash a rope around Keir’s left ankle. 

Before those inside Aysgarth realized what had
happened, Keir was suddenly yanked out of the grip and went skidding across the
dirt and mud, bouncing down the slight incline and out of their line of sight. 
Horrified, Blanche and the others rushed to the portcullis to see what had
become of Keir, and they could see that someone had tied the other end of the
rope to a horse which was now running off with Keir in tow.  The last they saw
of him, he was being pulled off across the road, plowing through an expanse of
grass, before disappearing into a cluster of trees.

Blanche screamed until she could scream no more.

 

CHAPTER TWENTY
EIGHT

 

     There was
an abundance of sorrow within the walls of Aysgarth as morning dawned, an
ambience not even the bright rays of a new day could erase. It promised to be a
brilliant and beautiful day, but the entire castle had a cloud of doom hanging
over it that could not be erased.  The walls themselves were reeking with sadness
as servants and soldiers alike began to move about their tasks, preparing for
the new day.

     In the
solar of Aysgarth, Garran was still on the enormous oak table, bundled up with
woolen blankets as he remained in merciful unconsciousness. Summer had been
able to stop the bleeding on her father and repair the wound, but it was
unknown if he would survive it. He remained still, barely breathing, as Summer
remained vigilant at his side.  Her wait was a lonely one because everyone else
was occupied with the aftermath of Keir’s abduction. So she sat alone, in a
strange castle, waiting to see if her father would live or die.

     Michael had
spent most of the night at Summer’s side, but as dawn approached, he had an
army to assemble.  He and Kurtis were up before dawn, in full battle armor,
their breath hanging heavy in the moist, foggy air as they bellowed orders to
the troops. Coverdale was with them, supervising, watching the assembly of his
great army. The bailey and stables were already busy, moving with a purpose,
preparing to pull out as soon as the sun crested the horizon. Today was to be a
very big day.

Up in Chloë’s bower, it was remarkably quiet because
Chloë was finally asleep.  She had spent the past several hours in hysteria
until Blanche, who was also still deeply upset by what she had witnessed, sent
word to Summer for a sleeping draught. Summer had come personally to tend to Chloë,
who had worked herself up so much that she was physically ill. Poor Summer,
stretched so thin between her father’s injury and Chloë’s hysterics, gave Chloë
a dose of a poppy seed potion that put her right to sleep. 

Cassandra crawled into bed with her sister and held
her, so very terrified of what was to come.  Ingilby now had Keir, and Kurtis
was going after him.  They were summoning a mighty army to accomplish this, and
she was terrified for her husband and for Keir.  The entire situation was
horrifying.

Loaded to the sky with war machines and implements
meant to kill, the army finally pulled out mid-morning, a thousand-man strong
and heading for Ripley Castle, about a day’s travel from Aysgarth. Kurtis and
Michael had ridden at the head of the army along with Coverdale, who had
brought his personal entourage, oddly including his wife, quite simply because
it was her time to visit him and he didn’t want to leave her behind.

Kurtis didn’t even say anything to Coverdale about
the fact that the man’s fourteen year old wife was being brought along on a
battle march. He had enough on his mind, the least of which was the fact that
he was going to battle against a Northumberland ally. All he could think about
was his brother and of what he was going to do to Ingilby when he cornered
him.  Kurtis’ emotions on the subject went beyond rage and into the realm of
madness. Ingilby was going to pay, ally or no.

Chloë slept through Kurtis’ farewells and the army’s
departure.  The poppy potion did its job well and she slept dreamlessly for
awhile until visions of Keir began filling her head.  His smile, his laughter,
were the first thing she saw, and then the dreams grew more vivid and she could
feel his touch or smell his hair. She had no idea how long she dreamt of him
because she began to realize that her eyes were open and she was staring at the
back of Cassandra’s head.  The two of them were lying on Chloë’s bed and she
could hear Cassandra snoring softly. But for that, all was still and quiet.

Chloë lifted her head slightly, seeing that there
was no one else in the room.The sun was out but she had no concept of what time
of day it was.  The events from earlier came flooding back and her eyes misted
over with tears when she remembered what her mother had told her about Keir’s
abduction.  He had been wounded trying to save the little boy Ingilby had
called Merritt, and then spirited away by Ingilby as he had tried to return to
safety.

 
Wounded
. Chloë’s entire body ached with
grief for Keir’s injury and disappearance. The not-knowing was the worst part.  Was
he dead? Alive? She simply didn’t know. No one did. All of it was her fault,
she knew that. Had she not sent Ingilby a missive agreeing to be his bride,
none of this would have happened.  She had caused this.  Her guilt consumed
her.

After the initial avalanche of grief, she began to
think very clearly on the situation, as if her initial burst of sorrow had
expunged itself and now she felt nothing but resolve.  It was all very, very
clear to her what she must do, and something she felt no fear of as she
reasoned he way through it; Ingilby had come for her but had taken Keir instead
- therefore, surely the man would free Keir if she were to exchange herself for
his freedom.  There was no other choice. It was the only answer.

So she climbed out of bed, no longer the hysterical woman
but the determined wife, determined to free the man she loved.  Only a calm
head would save Keir and she knew that.  Perhaps somehow, in some way, she had
grown just a little in the time she had known him. He had helped her mature
with his wisdom and calm manner.  He had done so much for her and now she had
to do something for him. Crying in bed wasn’t going to solve the problem.  She
had to save him.

Silently, she went to the wardrobe crammed with her
things and removed a heavy dark blue traveling coat and matching cloak.
Swiftly, she changed into the garment and donned heavy hose and leather boots
that belonged to her sister.  Her thick hair was brushed and braided, a single
heavy braid hanging over one shoulder. As she finished with her hair, she
caught sight of a slender dagger tucked up with a few scarves and belts. 
Tucking it in to her sash, she finished securing the cloak. Now she was ready
to travel, knowing where she had to go and what she had to do.  With a lingering
look at her sleeping sister, she slipped from the chamber.

Chloë was very conscious about the voices she could
hear throughout the keep.  She didn’t want to run in to anyone, afraid they
would try to stop her if they figured out what she was up to.  Thankfully,
Kurtis and Michael weren’t around, because they were the nosy sort and would
have badgered her into confessing her plans. She only had to deal with her
mother and father, and perhaps even Lord Coverdale, but she didn’t see any of
them. 

As she slipped silently towards the keep entry, she
passed by the solar and was shocked when she came face to face with Summer,
sitting vigilantly by her father’s side.  Their eyes met and Chloë came to a
halt.

“Greetings,” she said from the doorway, hesitantly, hoping
Summer wouldn’t ask her where she was going.  Her gaze trailed to Garran and
she saw an opportunity to take the focus away from her. “How is your father?”

Summer rose from her chair, looking to her father as
she made her way over to Chloë. “His condition is unchanged,” she said, trying
not to sound too despondent. “He sleeps, but I suppose that is a good thing.
Only time will tell if he will indeed survive.”

Chloë looked at Garran, lying pale and still upon
the desk.  It began to occur to her that his injury was her fault as well.
Everything was her fault, indirectly though it was. Her guilt grew.

“I am so sorry,” she whispered. “I will pray for his
recovery.”

Summer looked at her, forcing a smile. “Thank you,”
she said softly, her gaze turning intense as she scrutinized Chloë. “How are
you feeling?”

Chloë nodded. “Much better,” she said. “I... I was
just going for a walk to clear my head a bit.”

“Do you feel up to it?”

“I do.”

Summer’s smile faded. “Michael and Kurtis left a
couple of hours ago to rescue Keir,” she said softly. “They will bring him back,
Chloë. You must have faith.”

Chloë struggled not to tear up. “I do.”

Summer regarded her as if trying to determine for
herself how Chloë truly felt. It was hard to know, for she looked stronger at
this moment than she had since Summer had known her. “Are you sure your back
feels well enough?”

Chloë nodded. “It does,” she said. “It feels much
better than it did yesterday. There is still a bit of pain in my hips, but not
nearly as bad as it was.”

Summer’s smile turned genuine. “That is good to
hear,” she said. “We need some good news around here.”

Chloë smiled weakly before reaching out to grasp
Summer’s hand. “If I have not told you again how much I appreciate all you’ve
done, then please allow me to say so,” she said sincerely. “You have done so
much for all of us. I do not know how we can ever repay you.”

Summer was modest. “I am happy to help where I am
needed,” she said, a bit of twinkle in her eye. “Besides, I believe I have
already received the greatest compensation I could ever have.”

“What is that?”

“A husband.”

Chloë’s smile brightened. “Michael has pledged for
you?”

Summer nodded. “He has declared his love and his
desire to marry me. I am sure my father would agree.”

Chloë hugged her tightly. “I am so happy for you
both, truly,” she said. “Michael is a good man. He will make a good husband.”

Summer laughed softly. “He will have to,” she said.
“Otherwise, I have six brothers who will make him wish he was.”

Chloë giggled, thinking of Michael against six
enraged brothers of the lovely Lady Summer. But as she opened her mouth to
reply, she caught sight of a young boy seated over by the hearth.  He had been
tucked out of her line of sight until this moment, shifting out of the shadow
and in to the light as he reached for a bit of bread. Summer saw Chloë’s
surprise, then her interest, and motioned to the child.

“This is young Aust,” she introduced him. “This is
the young man Keir rescued. Aust, this is the Lady Chloë. Will you please greet
her?”

The child, blond haired with big brown eyes, looked
at Chloë with some terror.  As Chloë moved towards the lad, she could see that
one entire side of his face was bruised and one eye was nearly swollen shut.  He
was sitting on some feather-stuffed cushions with a blanket over his legs, the
remnants of a meal on the floor next to him.  He genuinely looked terrified and
Chloë smiled faintly at the boy Keir had saved. The child was the last act of
self-sacrifice Keir had performed and the thought made her teary-eyed, but she
fought it.

“Greetings, Aust,” she said softly.

The boy swallowed the food in his mouth, struggling
not to cry himself. He didn’t do well with new people, especially after that
band of brutal men had thrashed him. Everyone scared him now.

“G-greetings,” he whispered.

“How old are you?”

“I… I am not sure,” he sniffled, wiping the tears
from the eye that wasn’t sore.

Chloë’s heart softened for the frightened young boy
and she knelt down a few feet away from, as not to further scare him.

“You are a very big boy,” she said gently. “You must
have seen at least five or six summers.”

He shrugged, calming a little bit with the lady’s
gentle manner. “I… I think so,” he said. “I… I have a dog.”

Chloë smiled. “A dog?” she said with glee. “What is
his name?”

“Dog.”

She giggled. “That is a good name for him,” she said,
trying to figure out if she could see Keir in the little features. She decided
to probe him a little, wondering if Summer hadn’t already done the same. “Where
are your mother and father?”

That set the child off sniffling again and he wiped
furiously at his good eye. “I do not know,” he said. “Some men… they took me
away from them.”

“Do you know where they live?”

“In a town. There is a church there.”

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