Arianna turned and pummeled him with her fists and feet in a desperate attempt to break free. She did not hesitate to use her nails and teeth as well. A punch to his nose loosened his grip and she had a brief flare of hope as she tried to run again. That hope was abruptly ended with a hard blow to the back of her head. As Arianna fell to her knees, fighting vainly against the blackness sweeping over her mind, she saw Amiel looking down at her, a thick stick in his hand and a smile on his face.
“He will rip ye into wee pieces and leave them for the carrion,” she said as the blackness closed in on her, and then she fell face-first into the dirt.
“My, such a vicious little bitch,” Amiel murmured as he tossed aside the stick he held and brushed off his hands.
“Should we look for the man?” asked Sir Anton as he handed the man Arianna had punched a scrap of linen to stop the blood flowing from his nose.
“No need. We have what we want. Take her up with you.” He turned to the man Arianna had kicked, who was just stumbling back up on his feet. “You bring her horse.”
“We are taking her to this Scarglas then?”
“Yes, but with a little stop on the way. There is no gain in trying to ride through the night. I believe we shall spend some of the evening having a conversation with this little savage.”
“I doubt she was out here alone. Someone will come hunting for her.”
“They cannot hunt in the dark.”
Brian frowned as he reined in and looked around. He was certain this was where he had left Arianna. The fear that gripped him by the throat told him he was not wrong, that he was never wrong about such things. His sense of direction was legendary amongst his kin.
Flinging himself out of his saddle, he searched the grounds for some sign that would tell him why she was not where he had left her. Brian was just praying that she had simply wandered off even though he knew she would not be so foolish when he found the signs that told him she had been taken. Forcing himself to be calm, he carefully studied all the ground told him, moving outward from where she had so clearly tried to escape the ones who encircled her. Several yards into the shadowy area of the forest, he found the signs of several men on horseback having paused and dismounted. They had made no attempt to hide the direction they rode off in, either.
Cursing continuously under his breath, he returned to the place where Arianna had been captured. He took a deep breath and finally looked closely at the one place on the ground he had noted but fought to ignore. There was blood there and he could see that someone had fallen. He tried to comfort himself with the fact that there was not much blood but his fear for Arianna did not wish to be appeased. Brian knew he was looking at the place where she had fallen, which meant she had already been hurt.
His first instinct was to hunt her down immediately but he fought against it. That would be a mistake and he had already made one by leaving her alone and unprotected. One man against six was not good odds. And there could be more than that now if Amiel had found some more hirelings. He needed enough men to encircle Amiel and his men as they had obviously encircled Arianna. Overwhelming the men was the only way to get Arianna back alive.
Brian leapt on his horse and raced back to Dubheidland. He tried not to think of what could be happening to Arianna as the time slipped away for he knew that would drive him mad, force him into doing something reckless that could get them both killed. The certainty that Amiel did not want her dead until he had the boys in his grasp was the only thing that helped.
Sigimor was already armed and in the bailey when Brian rode in. Brian leapt from his exhausted mount and stood trying to catch his breath for a moment, certain he had never ridden so hard in his life. He accepted the water given him and gulped it down.
“He has her,” he said.
“How?” Sigimor demanded as his men brought saddled horses up to them, including a strong fresh mount for Brian.
“I went out to see if the mon was between us and Scarglas. I left her alone and they found her.”
“’Tis nay your fault.”
“I left her alone!”
“For a good reason. Ye didnae want to ride right into the enemy’s grasp and we had decided they were headed to Scarglas. Without a look round, ye could easily have ridden right into them. They obviously got farther away faster than we thought they would. How far away were ye from here when ye stopped?”
“Mayhap an hour and a half of hard riding.”
“So they have already had her for a while,” Sigimor muttered. “They will nay have stayed close to where ye left her, either.” He glanced up at the sky. “If we are lucky we can track them to where they hold her before the sun completely sets. Dusk is a verra good time for creeping up on someone.”
“I did see where they had left the horses and which direction they went off in.”
“That will help. A shame we cannae ken exactly when they grabbed her as that would make it easier to judge how far they may have gone.”
“I was gone nearly two hours.”
“Ah, then they will have had time to get a fair distance away from where they took her. It may weel be dark ere we find her, but I have some skill in raiding in the night.”
Before Brian could say another word, Sigimor was signaling his men to mount. Brian quickly swung up into the saddle of his fresh horse. No matter how hard he tried he could not stop thinking about how long Arianna would be in the hands of a man who wished her dead before they could find her. He was pulled from his dark thoughts when Sigimor gave him a hard slap on the back.
“We will find her, cousin,” Sigimor said.
Staring blindly at the men preparing to go out and help him hunt for Arianna, Brian did not feel the confidence he usually felt when involved in a hunt of any kind. “What if he takes her right to DeVeaux?”
“Then we follow him until he stops long enough for us to take her back.”
“Ye make it sound so simple. The mon kens we will be hunting him.”
“Does he? I am nay sure the mon is as clever as ye think. It doesnae matter. He cannae ride at night unless he has a mon who kens the land weel. The dark slows us all down but he will have to stop and that is when we will have him.”
As the men mounted up and started out of the bailey, Brian could only pray that his cousin was right. Fear was a hard knot in his belly and failure a sour taste in his mouth. He would not rest until he had Arianna safely back in his arms.
Chapter 12
Pain greeted Arianna as she slipped free of unconsciousness, most of it centered in her head. She decided she was growing weary of it. She had done nothing to deserve it and wanted the ones who kept inflicting her with it to suffer. It was difficult to swallow her groan of pain as she struggled to open her eyes just enough to see where she was yet not alert her captors to the fact that she was awake.
She was inside a rough cottage. Arianna immediately feared for the safety of the ones the cottage had belonged to but pushed aside that concern. She could do nothing about their fate unless she got free, although she was certain it would only be to find some justice for the killing of innocents. Amiel would not have left anyone alive to tell where he and his men were. He was the one being hunted now. Despite her pain and dire circumstances, Arianna was able to find some satisfaction in that.
Crouched by the fire in the center of the cottage was her husband’s brother Amiel. There was also some petty satisfaction to be found in the fact that the ever-fastidious Amiel was mud-splattered and untidy. Beneath the dirt were clothes fit for an appearance at court and she inwardly shook her head over Amiel’s idiocy. Did the fool think he could just ride into the country and bargain bloodlessly for the return of two boys he meant to kill? It did not surprise her to see the other men glaring at him with contempt when they thought he was not looking their way.
There was no doubt in her mind that the man was indeed a fool, and not only in his choice of clothing. All he had had to do was wait and he could have gotten what he craved without getting any innocent blood on his hands. Claud’s family was appalled that their son and heir had married a common maid and did not wish the boys born of that union to claim anything. A little money and a few lies could make that embarrassing marriage disappear. It would just take time. Amiel, however, wanted it all now, with a ferocity that made her wonder yet again if he was in debt to someone. She wondered if some of the man’s hatred for the boys was because they were Claud’s. There had never been any love lost between the brothers but she had never thought the animosity would lead to murder.
The truth struck her so forcefully she nearly opened her eyes wide and had to swallow a gasp. It was something she had considered several times but now she had no doubt. Amiel owed the DeVeaux something or wanted something they could give him. He had become their pawn, although he was probably too blindly arrogant to know it. It was the only explanation for why he now rushed to kill two young boys who would undoubtedly, and unfairly, become disinherited soon. Legally made bastards by an annulment that would be bought and paid for by his parents.
Not only a traitor to his own blood but a complete, blind fool. Amiel ignored the long, bloody history of DeVeaux treachery if he actually thought they would let him live for long after he gave them what they wanted or they gave him what he sought. Every Lucette knew that the king may have forced a truce between the two families but it had not completely stopped the treachery the DeVeaux excelled at, it had merely made them more secretive. Amiel’s arrogance obviously made him think he could outwit his venomous allies. She could almost feel sorry for Amiel but for the knowledge that he wanted to kill Adelar and Michel. That ended any chance of her feeling even the smallest twinge of pity for him.
“I think she wakes,” said one of the DeVeaux men riding with Amiel.
Arianna silently cursed, wondering what had given her away. She had kept her breathing slow and even, was certain she had not moved any part of her body, and had kept her eyes shut enough that no one should have seen even a hint of wakefulness there. Fighting not to tense in fear and show the others the man was right, she waited.
“Nay, she still sleeps, Sir Anton,” said Amiel, his irritatingly nasal voice easy to recognize.
“Are you quite certain of that?”
“She has not even groaned, has she, and that knock upon the head has to hurt.”
There was the hint of pleasure in his voice and Arianna ached to beat him with a thick stick. Her head throbbed so badly it was difficult to restrain the urge to rub her forehead. Only the knowledge that it would do little to help ease the pain kept her from doing so. What truly mattered now was neither her pain nor her injuries, but the plans of her enemy. Knowing what they had schemed could aid her in escaping them, or warning the others when she was rescued.
And she would be rescued, she told herself firmly. She had more confidence in that than in her chances of escaping, especially since she would have to flee on foot. The fact that she would be on foot if she escaped would not stop her from trying if the chance to flee came her way, however. Arianna knew she did not have Brian’s skill at slipping through the shadows, or even hiding in them, but she had watched him do it enough to have learned a few things. What she had learned might be enough to help her at least stay hidden while Amiel and his men hunted for her.
“Well, I believe she is awake, or very nearly so,” said Sir Anton.
“Kick her then. If she is awake that will make her cease her games.”
“I will not kick a woman, especially not an unconscious woman lying on the ground.”
“Such a tender heart you have, my fine knight. I must wonder what hold the DeVeaux have upon you as you are far too concerned with what is right and proper to deal weel with them. But, not to worry this time. I am not burdened by such weaknesses.”
Arianna did not move fast enough to completely evade Amiel’s boot. He struck her in the lower back as she rolled away from him and struck her hard enough to make her gasp with pain. She was still panting from that pain when he grabbed her by the arm and yanked her to her feet. Nausea clenched her stomach as the pain from the blow on her head swept over her. For a moment, she instinctively fought the urge to empty her stomach, but then caught sight of Amiel’s boots. With a groan, she bent toward them and allowed her stomach to have its way.
Amiel’s cry of disgust and outrage gave her a brief moment of pleasure. That was abruptly ended when his fist hit her jaw. She sprawled on her back on the hard dirt floor of the cottage, the force of the blow knocking her away from him and his soiled boots. Arianna cursed herself for provoking the man. If she suffered more injuries she would never be able to take advantage of any opportunity to escape. The way she hurt now, she was surprised she was still conscious and rather wished she was not. A convenient swoon might save her from feeling any more pain but her body was not cooperating with her wish. Instead, she struggled to sit up.
One tall, thin man stood back from Amiel and his lackeys. Watching everything with a frown. Arianna was sure that was Sir Anton, the man who had been so outraged at the suggestion that he kick an unconscious woman. She wondered if he could prove to be a possible ally, but her head was throbbing so badly that she could barely think straight. One needed one’s full wits sharp to turn a man against the others he rode with, especially to make any man betray the DeVeaux. Arianna was not sure she would be allowed any time to think clearly anyway, or be eased from her pain, as long as she remained a captive of Amiel. Claud had been subtly cruel. Amiel was openly vicious.
“You bitch!” Amiel cried once his boots were clean. “You did that on purpose.”
Just to be contrary, Arianna refused to speak to him in French. “I did it because ye hit me on the head. Emptying one’s belly after such a blow is common. Your boots were just in my way.”
He slapped her and Arianna could see bursts of light behind her lids when she closed her eyes against this new pain. The fear that he was going to beat her to death rose up but she fought it. If that was his plan there was not much she could do to stop him but she did not plan to make it easy for him. She placed her hands on the ground, hung her head, and tried to breathe through the worst of the pain. When she looked at Amiel again she did nothing to hide her contempt or anger.
“You will regret that, you little bitch,” Amiel said, his voice shaking with the fury he could not hide.
“Och, ye greedy swine, I have many regrets already,” she said as she forced herself back on her feet. “The greatest of those is that I e’er met your thrice-cursed family. Are ye verra certain ye are Lucettes?”
“Of course we are. You, however, never were.”
Arianna wondered why those words did not hurt. Amiel just spoke aloud what his whole family had felt about her. She had never been accepted, never been allowed to become a part of the family, and that had always hurt her before. Perhaps, she finally realized, she simply did not care and had not for quite a while. If she had not thought herself married to Claud the pig she would have ceased trying to please her new family a long, long time ago. She had never liked any of them save for young Paul.
“I find myself rather pleased by that,” she said, and staggered when he slapped her again.
“Where are my brother’s little bastards?”
The man did not give her any chance to reply before he slapped her again, catching her with a hard backhand swing for the second blow that sent her back to the floor. Through the pounding in her ears, she could hear arguing. Rolling slowly onto her side, she saw that Sir Anton now stood between her and Amiel.
“You did not allow her to answer,” said Sir Anton.
“And how is that your concern?” Amiel eased his dagger from the sheath at his waist. “Too weak of stomach to do as you should, Sir Anton?”
“The DeVeaux want her alive. I also do not believe beating her to death is either right or will accomplish anything.”
Arianna was just thinking that the man was brave but very foolish when Amiel stabbed Sir Anton. Amiel smiled in a way that chilled her as he yanked his dagger out of the man’s side and watched Sir Anton slowly fall to his knees. Still smiling, he kicked Sir Anton aside and looked at her again. There was such a gleam of violence in his eyes that, if she could move, she would be running for her life.
Two of the men riding with Amiel moved to help Sir Anton get back on his feet. Another looked at Amiel, his hand clutching the hilt of his sword. Arianna suspected the man was a DeVeaux soldier and was wondering just how far he should go in defending a fellow DeVeaux man.
“Lord Ignace will not be pleased if you murder the man he married his cousin off to,” the man said. “It was not easy to find someone to take the woman.”
“I have not killed the fool,” snapped Amiel, turning toward the man.
The other men quickly joined in the resulting argument, obviously intent upon reminding Amiel just whom he owed his allegiance to. It was clear for Arianna to see that Amiel did not like to be reminded. As she began to crawl out of the cottage, she prayed the men would decide that argument was futile and just kill him.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Sir Anton move to lean up against the wall. He was watching her but said nothing, making no attempt to draw the attention of the others to what she was doing. Arianna suspected he saw no gain in telling Amiel that his prisoner was trying to escape for they both knew she had very little chance of accomplishing it. It was going to be a while before she could even stand up without risking complete unconsciousness.
Just as she reached the middle of the cleared area in front of the cottage, the carefully tended ground already badly marred by the men’s horses, she rose up on her knees. Her vision was not completely clear and the throbbing in her head made her stomach churn, but Arianna slowly forced herself to her feet.
“Where do you think you are going?”
Arianna looked toward her horse and sighed. There was no chance that she could reach it, mount, and ride away before she was caught. She simply did not have the strength. There was no doubt in her mind that, after only a few steps, if she did not fall down, she would be knocked down. She turned to face Amiel. It was not easy to keep her gaze fixed on him when she could see Sir Anton stealthily making his way to the horses.
“I confess that I grew weary of your kind hospitality and decided it was time to go home,” she replied to Amiel.
“My brother never truly succeeded in showing you your place, did he?”
If only I had the strength to punch him right in that sneering mouth of his, I could die happy, Arianna thought. “My place is right here,” she said, refusing to speak in French as he continued to do. “In Scotland. But dear old Claud learned his place, didnae he, Amiel? Ye taught him and his wife, didnae ye?”
“You think
I
killed my own brother?” The man sounded shocked but there was the glint of amused satisfaction in his eyes.
“Aye, I do. Mayhap ye didnae dirty your own hands, but ye hired the ones who did. Grew tired of waiting for him to die, did ye? Did ye think no one would learn that he was truly married to Marie Anne? That no one would ken that Michel and Adelar are Claud’s legal heirs?”
“They will never be accepted as the heirs. My family will see them marked as the common-born little bastards they are.”
“Aye, they probably will, so why dinnae ye just wait for that to happen? Why this hunt for them? I was taking them far away so ye wouldnae e’en have seen them about while your parents worked to annul Claud’s marriage to Marie Anne. And to ally yourself with the DeVeaux? Ye will have your whole clan wanting to kill ye and spit upon your grave.”