Heart's Ransom (Heart and Soul) (10 page)

****

Torment and agony ripped at Gwen’s throat.  Flashes of the attack blazed through her mind.  She fought to breathe, clawing at the garrote.  She strangled, fighting to cry out but pain tearing through her throat.

“Gwen,” a deep voice called but it seemed so distant.  “Peace, Gwen, you are safe.”

Hands tried to hold her down to keep her from grasping the garrote around her throat.  She couldn’t suck air into her lungs.  Terror assailed her and she fought even harder.

Suddenly powerful arms surrounded her and held her tightly.  “Gwen, peace,” the deep voice said, but she clearly heard its anguish.  “Calm yourself and breathe easy.”

She recognized that voice, knew it so very well, just as she knew the strength that held her close and sheltered her. 

Talon.

She stopped fighting, still battling to suck air into her lungs.  She heard a terrible rattle in her own throat, the pain was almost enough to frighten her into fighting again.  Why did Talon not cut away the garrote strangling her?

“Peace,” Talon whispered, his arms tightening around her.  “Allow me to hold you steady, it will be easier for you to breathe.”

Her fear eased and she relaxed in his arms.  Talon adjusted her slightly, tilting her head back against his shoulder and she discovered it did make it much easier to breathe.  Slowly she blinked open her eyes.

Talon craned his neck to look down at her awkwardly but as she forced her vision to focus, what she saw startled her.

His brown eyes were bleak with worry, shimmering in the glow of the candlelight, the lines on his face and dark circles under his eyes more pronounced.

“Gwen,” he whispered.  “Please Gwen hear me.  I am with you; I will not let you go.”  The anguish she heard in his voice stabbed her soul.

She gazed intently at his face beautiful, strong and noble, framed by long, tawny hair. 

“Talon?” she tried to speak but pain shot through her throat and she strangled again.  Her fingers clutched at his tunic, twisting it viciously.

“Nay,” he said sternly but his dark eyes sparked with a glimmer of hope.  “Do not try to speak.  Your throat was injured, ‘tis why you are in pain and struggle to breathe.”

Instead of using her voice, this time she simply mouthed his name.

His expression brightened subtly.  “Aye, my sweet,” he said, his callused hand caressing her face with gentleness.  “I am here.” 

She closed her eyes, savoring the warmth of his touch.

“Gwen, my sweet, stay with me, please.”

She opened her eyes again, looking at him in confusion.  It was so hard to remember.  Someone had been trying to strangle her, she had thought she was dead, but here she was in Talon’s arms.

Again she mouthed a word.  “Cold.”

A tiny frown blurred his brow.  “What is it?”

She made an exaggerated shiver.

“You are cold?”

She nodded.

He pulled the blankets closer around her but refused to release her.  And Gwen had to admit she didn’t want him to.

“Please, Gwen, you must stay with me.  Fight this.  I know you are weak but you must fight this.”

Weariness washed over her again, she was too cold, and it hurt too much to breathe.

Again she mouthed his name.

“Stay with me, lass, please.  I need you, I need you alive.”

Why would he need her alive?  Her father had disinherited her, for whatever reason Talon had abducted her; she was now worthless to him.  Her father wanted her dead.

But she couldn’t stop herself as she clung to him with all of her strength.

Talon choked, holding her tightly, his hair caressing her face.  He pressed his lips against her forehead, warm and gentle.  “Do not leave me,” he whispered, his lips softly brushing her skin.  “Please, Gwen, do not leave me.”

Surprise at his grief, the power of his plea, coiled through her.  Her hand shaking, she touched his cheek.  He lifted his head enough to stare into her eyes.  Although she thought it her imagination, she saw unspeakable pain and fear.  Was this possible?  Had he actually come to care for her that much?  Would he know anguish if she died?  To her astonishment a single tear escaped and rolled down his cheek.  She caught it on her fingers and gently caressed his skin, wishing she could tell him she would not die.

He seemed to read the expression in her gaze for his lips lifted slightly.  His arms tightened around her and she heard him whispering a prayer.  She savored his strength, taking comfort in the power and protection of his arms.  Slowly, her eyes closed and exhaustion stole her awareness.

****

Four days passed and Talon nearly sobbed with grief at seeing Gwen so weak, so close to death.  She seemed to grow more fragile.  Alys and the healer could scarcely pry him away enough to give Gwen her medicants.

“Here, my lord,” Alys said, lightly pressing his fingers to Gwen’s throat.  “Her heart and breathing steadies.”

He blinked feeling a stronger pulse but her breathing was still far from normal.  “’Tis good,” he said, praying this wasn’t false hope.

“Aye.  I’ll keep giving her the medicants and cold water for her throat.  You should get some rest, my lord.”

“Nay,” Talon snapped more harshly than he intended.

Alys huffed a sigh and touched his forehead.  “My lord, you need to rest before ye fall ill yourself.”

“Nay,” he growled through clenched teeth.  “I’ll not leave her side until she recovers.”

“My lord--”

“Nay!”

Alys snapped her jaw shut, glaring at him.  “All right, but if you stay, you’ll at least drink the Willowbark tea for your aching head.”

“I am fine.”

Alys threw up her hands, muttering prayers for patience to the ceiling.  Then she jabbed a finger at him.  “I’ve seen you rub your temples too many times.  Your head aches and Gwen will have mine if I do not take care of you.  You will drink the tea.”

“Peace, wench.”  He caught himself rubbing his temples again and growled in disgust.  “Will you cease harassing me if I drink it?”

“Aye.”

“Then give it to me.”

An hour later, Talon had to ruefully admit the tea had helped his pounding head.  His exhaustion caught up with him and he dozed off where he sat, jerking awake several times.  So weary he could barely think clearly, Talon eased himself onto the bed next to Gwen, holding her close.  Alys arched an eyebrow at him but said nothing. 

Talon wondered if it was his desperate imagination but Gwen’s pulse seemed stronger and her breathing easier.  Her cheeks appeared to have a bit more color and her skin not so cold and clammy.  But all he could do was pray and try to ignore the painful memories assailing him.  Memories of a young woman dying in his arms, hating him, too ill to realize he had been with her in her last hours.

He could not bear to abandon Gwen.  If she died, she would not be alone, although it would destroy his soul.  But he whispered a prayer of thanks for a small boon.  Each time she opened her eyes, she recognized him.  Her grip tightened instead of pushing him away.  Even now she clung to him as if her life depended on his presence, his strength, as if his embrace kept her in the mortal realm.

Talon finally slipped into a more relaxed sleep, Gwen’s head against his chest, his arms firmly around her.  It seemed like only moments later when a soft noise awakened him.  Blinking in surprise at the darkness in the room, he saw Marcus enter.

“My lord,” Marcus whispered.  “Forgive me for disturbing you.”

“It’s all right,” Talon replied, checking on Gwen.  To his relief her heartbeat was much stronger and her breathing even.  Her skin was also warmer, almost normal.

“How is she?”

“Much better it seems,” Talon replied, relief thick in his voice.  He carefully pushed himself up, his back against the headboard and Gwen’s head in his lap.  Absently, he ran his fingers through her thick hair while Marcus took the chair he had abandoned.  He glanced at Alys’s pallet but was surprised to find it empty.

“She and the healer are below-stairs discussing more medicants,” Marcus said, observing his movement.  “’Tis why I decided to speak with you now about the sod who did this.”

Talon nodded.  “Gwen isn’t really coherent when she awakes, I do not think she will understand or remember anything we discuss.”

“I strongly believe you should explain everything to her when she recovers.”

Talon arched an eyebrow.

Marcus shrugged.  “I believe she deserves to know since she almost lost her life because of this.”

Talon sighed heavily, his fingers continuing to stroke her hair.  “I will think about it, Marcus.”

“With a little persuasion, the handyman was most informative.”

Talon felt a vicious smile tug at his lips.  “I knew I could count on you, Marcus.”

“I knew time was of the essence, my lord.  A knave who would assault a lady thusly is obviously a coward.  I knew he would speak to save his own skin and allowed my fists to make
my point.”

“What did you discover?”

Marcus rubbed his eyes wearily.  “’Tis complicated.  This man was hired to slay her then smuggle her body out when we opened the gates in the morning.”

“By her father?”

“He believes it so but is not certain.  He was hired by a mercenary soldier who told him to slay her and bring out her body to deliver as proof.”

Fury carved a path through Talon’s heart.  “How could a man do this to his own daughter?”

Marcus studied him for a long moment then sighed heavily.  “Not every man feels the same about their daughters as you do about Rose.”

Talon ducked his head.  This was why his fondness of Rose was not common knowledge except to those within the keep.  Many men, especially nobles, would think him weak for granting such devotion to a child - a daughter no less.  But obviously someone had discovered his vulnerability.  He swallowed hard, trying to summon the courage to ask his next question.  “Did he...was he the one who...?”

“He was.”

“Sweet Jesu,” he whispered, suddenly shaking.  “If they almost killed Gwen...Rose--” his voice cracked terribly.

“Nay,” Marcus said with a firm shake of his head.  “This is where it gets complicated.  After Griffen failed to slay Gwen, Powys searched for other means of recourse.  Rumor abounds that Powys has finally learned you have her.  He wants her to die in your custody in order to blame you for her murder.  His supposed outrage and grief at losing his daughter might convince the Prince of Wales to move against you.  Powys wants Montgomery.”

Talon blinked, his exhausted mind struggling to function.  “But that means...it means he does not have Rose, for if he did, he would use her against me to gain Montgomery instead.”

“Exactly, my lord.”

“Then who...?”

“This same mercenary hired the handyman to abduct Rose.  It was simply a coincidence that the same two joined together to slay Gwen for Powys.”

“Coincidence?”

Marcus shrugged.  “You know how word and reputation travels to those who are employed in the darker professions.  Murder for hire, abduction, treachery in general - all earn fame among thieves and cutthroats.  The mercenary was already known to have reach inside Castle Montgomery, so Powys approached him.”

Talon had little direct dealings with that sort of ilk so he would have to take Marcus at his word.  “But what about Rose?”

“All we know was that the handyman abducted her.  When he delivered her to the mercenary she was alive.  Drugged with a sleeping draught but alive.”

Relief and fear grew side by side.  She had been alive but was she still?  “The handyman does not know why the mercenary wanted Rose or who was behind the plot?”

“Nay.”

“Why have I heard nothing from her captors?  What do they want of me?”

Marcus shook his head.  “I wish I knew, Talon.  Believe me, I understand your frustration.”

Talon leaned his head back and closed his eyes, trying not to drown in the sea of agony surging within him.

“The handyman was to meet the mercenary and deliver Gwen’s body to him.  Powys demands unquestionable proof that she is dead.  As far as I can tell, he has no allies within the keep.  With your permission I will open the gates and send out Aaron with our knights to set a trap for this mercenary.  If we can capture him, we will be able to learn more of Rose.”

Talon nodded, hope surging forward.  He wanted to accompany Aaron but he had promised Gwen he would not leave her.  Every time she awoke, fear possessed her and she struggled.  But Talon was quickly able to calm her before she injured herself further.  He had no choice; he had to stay with her.

“Let me know as soon as the men return.”

“I will, my lord.”

A soft knock sounded and Marcus opened the door.

“Forgive me,” Leo said and stepped inside holding a whining pup.  “But this creature will not be silent and Cook has threatened to throw him into a pot and cook him up for supper.”