No Price Too High (26 page)

In amazement, Gabriel saw that the anger had not eased on the earl's face. Only now, it was focused on the baron who had ridden here with him. What was going on? His fingers tightened on the hilt.

“I will release Melisande,” Vaudrey said, his grin widening, “when you order your men to surrender to mine, de la Rive.” He tilted the knife against Melisande's throat, and the cold metal glittered again in the dim light. “Stay where you are, Heathwyre. Both of you, drop your swords.”

“Have you lost your mind?” the earl demanded.

Hearing Melisande's gasp when her father raised his sword, Gabriel struck it with a sharp blow. It spun across the tiles and vanished into the pool.

“Are you mad as well?” Heathwyre demanded. “He will kill her—”

“—if we do not heed him.” Gabriel set his own sword on the tiles and stood. “Release her, Vaudrey.”

The baron's hand on Melisande's shoulder shoved her to her knees on the tiles in front of him. She winced, but did not make a sound.

Gabriel's curse went unvoiced as he saw a motion behind Vaudrey. His hope that it was one of his own men died when the baron gestured with his head to the slim shadow.

“I do not believe you two have actually met.
Shaykh
Gabriel de la Rive, allow me to introduce you to my good friend Abd al Qadir.”

Gabriel stared at his nemesis. The hill bandit's face bore scars from many narrow escapes. His eyes glinted with greed as he glanced around the garden, but Gabriel dismissed him as unimportant. Vaudrey's words confirmed what he long had suspected. The hill bandits were being controlled and aided by someone beyond these hills.

His fingers curled into fists as Abd al Qadir lifted a strand of Melisande's hair and murmured, “This one will bring a good price even though she is no longer a virgin.”

The baron batted his hand away and jerked Melisande to her feet. She snarled a curse in Arabic at the hill bandit, and Gabriel almost chuckled. He had not guessed she had learned
that
phrase.

Vaudrey drew his knife again as he herded her ahead of him into Gabriel's chambers. Thrusting her into pillows on the floor beside the bed, he laughed as he turned to face his captives.

Gabriel saw the earl tense when the knives of the hill bandits pricked against their spines. Melisande had spoken of her father as a great leader and an experienced warrior. He hoped she was right, because, if the earl panicked now, it could mean all their deaths.

He glanced toward the
harim
as he heard a crash and shouts. Karim Pasa might not be a warrior, but he would give his life to keep those within the
harim
walls safe, astonishing even Abd al Qadir's hardened men.

“Why did you come here, Vaudrey?” he asked, although he knew.

“Knowing Melisande was alive, I offered my assistance to Heathwyre to retrieve her.” The baron laughed as he glanced at Heathwyre's scowl. “You were grateful for my help, weren't you, milord, when you had no men of your own to come for her?”

“The men from Heathwyre are all dead?” Melisande whispered, seeing the grief in her father's eyes. A score had left the manor house with her father to come to the Holy Land. Another ten had died beside the cliffs with Geoffrey.

“Dead, many of them, I hear at the hand of that desert thief
Renard du Vent
.”

“You lie,” she cried, surging to her feet. The baron's blow sent her back to the pillows. As she fought to hold onto her senses, she heard shouts. Gabriel. Her father. The baron. Others. They all jumbled together, fading, fading, fading … No. She would not surrender to this pain. Forcing her eyes open, she pushed herself upright on the pillows.

She looked across the room. Gabriel was wiping a line of blood from his lip as he helped her father stand. Her father retched, and she knew he had been struck in the stomach. She wanted to snarl an oath at the baron, but her brain seemed disconnected from her mouth.

“Yes,
Renard du Vent
,” Vaudrey said with a laugh. “Such tales I have heard of his treachery.”

“Heard at your own telling, no doubt,” her father retorted, his voice strained with agony.

“Not only mine, but Geoffrey's.” He laughed again. “When we learned of the man the infidels called
Renard du Vent
for his swift vengeance against Abd al Qadir and his ilk, we knew we could use him as well. So many crimes of murder, kidnapping and selling Crusaders into slavery, and brutality have been laid at his feet that King Richard speaks of offering gold for his head.”

Melisande forced her eyes to focus as she heard her father's voice break. “My son—”

“Was my partner until he grew more interested in enjoying his share of our profits than earning them. War is deadly for those who cling to their ideals, but most profitable for those of us who do not care who wins or loses.”

Melisande pushed herself to her feet and met the baron's eyes evenly as she said, “So, you gave him a map that would lead him right to where we could be so conveniently ambushed by the hill bandits. You arranged for him and ten other men to die.” Her eyes widened. “Now I understand why he said he had been betrayed.”

“So, he knew I sent him to his death?” The baron chuckled. “I am glad.”

“You heartless cur.” Her hand striking his face echoed through the room.

Vaudrey's face distorted into a fearsome mask, and he raised his fist.

She shrieked as she was spun away from him and into strong arms. She held tightly to Gabriel, wanting to tell him he was a fool to risk his life like this and wanting to have him hold her this one last time.

“Protect your father,” he whispered against her hair while the baron shouted orders to his men.

She glanced up at him. “Gabriel—”

“Protect your father. I cannot.”

“Can you protect your mother and the others?”

His words were grim. “I have others I trust to protect them. You must protect your father.”

She nodded, then yelped as she was ripped away from him and thrust across the room toward her father.

Vaudrey motioned to the door leading out into the stronghold. “Take them back to the stables. I will meet you there as soon as I am done here.” He turned to Gabriel and he drew his sword.

“No,” Melisande screamed. “Do not kill him.”

“I shall let him buy your life, milady, with his and the riches and weapons I know he has stored somewhere in this mountain maze.”

She stepped closer to her father, not wanting the baron to see her astonishment. She must not let him guess that he stood within an arm's length of the door that would open to the corridor of hidden rooms.

“Abd al Qadir, take them to the stables and wait for me there.”

“But, Lord Vaudrey, I was to be allowed to select what I wish of the
shaykh's
weapons.”

“You will have your chance. Do as you are told.”

When her father put his arm around her shoulders, Melisande paused in the door to look back at Gabriel. He
would
trade his life for her. She knew that as surely as she knew that she loved him. When he smiled at her as his hands were bound in front of him, she tried to smile back, but his face blurred through her tears.

She could not let Gabriel sacrifice himself for her. She could not. With a loud moan, she swayed and then collapsed, closing her eyes.

“Curse you, Vaudrey,” her father shouted as his arms caught her. “Look what you have done.”

“You, there. Carry Lady Melisande to the stables. She should regain her senses there.”

Melisande almost choked out a gasp when she was tossed over a broad shoulder. Peeking through the curtain of her hair, she allowed herself a smile. No one would see that her eyes were open; so, as long as she dangled her hands lifelessly down this curs back, she could watch where they went. She took note of every corner they turned and every room they passed as she was carried out to the stables.

Her moan was real when she was dropped onto the stone floor of the stables. She waited until the heavy footsteps had moved away. Then she sat and rubbed her elbow.

“I am fine, Father.” She glanced from his bound hands to the door when shouts came from the courtyard. A single man stood in the doorway. “Is he our only guard?”

“No, there is another just beyond the door. It sounds as if the rest of them are facing the
shaykh's
men. I wondered why they had not been stopped by the
shaykh's
before.”

“Gabriel has sent many of his men to chase after the hill bandits. I suspect they have been led astray while Abd al Qadir managed to sneak in here.” She considered the situation. “They would not be fooled for long.”

“Vaudrey will not need long if the
shaykh
takes him directly to his storerooms.”

“He won't.” She eyed the man in the door. “Father, if he is the only one guarding us—”

“Melisande, you must cooperate.”

“Why?”

“So they will not kill you, too.”

She clenched her hands on her knees. “Do you think Lord Vaudrey will allow us to live after we have witnessed his crimes? He has bragged that he is allied with these bandits and others throughout the Holy Land. He has preyed on his own countrymen, murdering some and selling others as slaves.” She slipped her hand over his. “Father, I once was deluded enough to think that an English lord's word had some value, but my eyes were opened the day I heard of the executions at Acre. Honor has no meaning when men grasp for power and wealth.” She bit back a sob. “If Gabriel had learned that, too, he would not have agreed to trade his life for mine so uselessly.”

“Mayhap he does not consider the trade useless.”

She stared at him. “That sounds like a compliment.”

“He dared to keep Vaudrey from striking you when he knew that he could be slain for that.” He hung his head. “Mayhap he has more honor than I believed possible.”

“He is a good man, Father.”

He brushed her tangled hair back from her forehead. “Do you really love him?”

“Yes. At first I thought it was gratitude that he did not imprison me while he waited for you to send the ransom for my release, but then—”

“Ransom? He never sent a request to me to buy your freedom.”

“But he said …” She pushed that question aside as she asked, “Then why are you here?”

“The baron sent word that he had heard you were being held by
Renard du Vent
and that he would offer his help in arranging your release.”

“So he could use you to enter Gabriel's stronghold under a flag of truce.” She bent toward him. “Father, listen. I think I know a way to put an end to this.”

He listened and chuckled. “You have grown wily, Melisande.”

“Gabriel has taught me well.” She did not wait to see his reaction as she reclined back on the ground and began to make choking sounds.

She heard her father jump to his feet and shout for help. As she had hoped, both men came running, frightened that their master's prize captive might be dying. They must not have seen her father's outstretched foot, because they tumbled atop one another like jackstraws. She leaped up, grabbing a bucket from the wall. As she struck one man on the head with it, her father hit the other. They fell heavily to the ground and did not move.

She grabbed a knife from one of them and cut her father free. “Stay here and keep anyone from discovering we freed ourselves.”

Without giving him a chance to argue, she ran to the door and out into the night. Men battled near the entrance to the tunnel through the mountain. She heard her father's shout behind her, but she could not wait. She must save Gabriel.

Inside the stronghold, she heard no sounds. She retraced the way back toward Gabriel's rooms. The door was wide open. She peeked in, but no one was there. The storerooms were still closed.

She hurried through the
mabeyin
and into her room. Pulling her sword from beneath her bed, she let her fingers close eagerly around the hilt. Now she was ready to face that treacherous baron and repay him for killing her brother and the knights of Heathwyre.

Throwing open the door of the
mabeyin
, she halted as she saw a sword aimed at her heart. She looked up in surprise … then relief. “Shakir. Thank goodness, you are here!”

“You have betrayed the
shaykh
for the final time,
Franj
.”

“No.” Seeing a dozen men crowded into the round passage with him, she dampened her lips. How could she convince him that she was not his enemy? Pulling back her hair, she pointed to the scarlet mark on her face. “Look. See what Lord Vaudrey did to me. He is my enemy, not Gabriel.”

“If you are lying,
Franj
—”

“I am not. The baron has taken Gabriel to steal what is in the storage rooms.”

“The
shaykh
would not reveal their contents to his enemies.”

“He will because he hopes to buy my life in exchange.” She put her fingers on the flat of his sword and lowered it. “Will you kill me here and make his sacrifice meaningless?”

Shakir muttered something she could not understand, then motioned with his sword to his men. When they all turned to go into Gabriel's rooms, she grasped Shakir's sleeve.

“The women in the
harim
—”

“Are safe. Join them.” He ran back into Gabriels rooms.

Melisande followed, startled to see the men disappearing into the corridor leading back to the rest of the house. She looked at the door they had run past. Did only she and Karim Pasa share Gabriel's knowledge of this secret entrance to the storeroom?

She did not hesitate. She ran to the door and threw it open. From the far end of the passage, she heard fighting. She saw the flicker of a torch and hefted her sword as she slipped through the door, pulling it closed. She must not let anyone sneak up on her from behind.