The Lady and the Falconer (8 page)

Solace clenched and unclenched her fists.

Slowly, Graham raised his gaze from the trencher of porridge before him. When his eyes came upon Solace, he smiled beatifically at her.

Solace stepped up on the platform that elevated the head table. “I should have you clapped in irons!” Solace exploded with a barely reined fury.

“Solace!” Alissa hissed.

Solace placed her clenched hands on the table, leaning toward Graham. “What gives you the right to command my guards not to tell me about a murderer?”

“A murderer?” Alissa blanched.

Logan froze, straining to hear the conversation as the entire room erupted in a flurry of astonished whispers.

“M’lady,” Graham said calmly, “I was only trying to protect –”

“Protect my sister. Protect my mother. But I need no protection from you.”

“What is this about a murderer?” Alissa asked, her voice hushed but firm.

“The dungeon guard was found with his head smashed,” Graham replied.

The next few exchanges were washed out as murmurs of disbelief swept through the Great Hall. Logan clenched his fists, desperately trying to hear the conversation. The rumblings ebbed quickly, and he heard Solace ask, “Were there any prisoners missing?”

“No,” Graham answered, leaning back in his chair. “That was the strange thing about it. The poor man wasn’t even robbed.”

Solace straightened away from the table. “Did any of the prisoners see or hear anything?”

Logan’s hand closed around his mug of ale. If they said anything, he would have to make another, more dangerous visit to the dungeon. He lifted the mug to his lips. He drank the ale, but didn’t taste it.

“None of them are talking,” Graham said. “My dear, you needn’t concern yourself with this. I’m handling it.”

“You?” Solace gasped. “You couldn’t handle a murderer if you held a sword to his throat!”

“Solace!” Alissa hissed.

“Solace, I’m here and I plan to help with the siege in any way I can,” Graham said in a slippery voice.

“Then why aren’t you helping guard the castle walls?” she demanded.

“I feel I can be more helpful inside.”

“Solace,” Alissa said, firmly, “that will be all. Graham is quite right. This is a man’s job. You can’t possibly handle the guards in a time of siege. Much less a killer. Good heavens, what would you do if you found out who it was?” As she laughed, Logan’s spine stiffened. He couldn’t stand her condescending tone. “Tell him to stop killing your people... please?”

Graham joined in the laughter.

Solace glared at her stepmother. “No,” she whispered.

“Go, child,” Alissa said, flicking her wrist as if swatting away an annoying fly. “Go practice your embroidery.”

Solace stood motionless for a long moment. Logan felt her anguish. He felt her embarrassment. She should say something, he thought. Defend herself.

But she didn’t utter a word.

Solace turned away and moved out of the Great Hall, holding her head high. Logan watched her go. Impulsively, he rose and strolled after her into the hallway outside the Great Hall. He found her pacing back and forth, her arms straight as pins, her fists clenched into balls. She was murmuring as she moved, shaking her head and twisting her features in a mockery of someone.

Logan leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. A grin came to his lips as he watched her stomp back and forth, a bloom of hot red coloring her cheeks. She was enchanting in her anger. His eyes devoured her slender form as he heard her mutter, “How dare he? Order my own men to keep secrets from me? My people are in danger!” He watched her storm five steps and spin like a little whirlwind to march the other way. She was one whirlwind he wouldn’t mind being caught in.

“Practice your embroidery. I’d like to practice my embroidery -- around your neck!” she whispered harshly.

Logan’s grin widened into a full-fledged smile. She was spirited! He had to give her that.

“Thinking he could find a murderer!” she gritted out between clenched teeth. “He can’t even find his own sword in a siege!”

Logan laughed out loud, his pleasure rolling from his throat in a low timbre.

Solace gasped and whirled to face him.

Logan pushed himself from the wall to approach her. Those brilliant green eyes flashed like precious emeralds caught in torchlight as she glared at him, the remnants of her anger seeping into her whiplash greeting. “Do you always spy on women?”

“Spy?” he asked in shock. Spying was something he had never been accused of where women were concerned. There were so many other things to do with them. Especially women with large green eyes and full, kissable lips. “No,” he answered in a low voice.

Solace stepped away from him as a flash of unease crossed her features. “What do you want?”

A dangerous question, Logan thought. His gaze brushed her lips before rising to her eyes. “I came to offer my services,” he said softly.

Solace frowned slightly. “Services?”

He would gladly offer her his services -- any services -- if only she would tell him where Peter was. “Protection.”

“Protection?” Solace echoed in disbelief. “You’re a falconer!”

“If there’s a killer in the castle, it might be dangerous for you to be walking around alone in the courtyards so late at night.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Have you been watching me?”

Logan’s laugh was low. “No. I was in the courtyard and I saw you.”

“Oh,” she said, fidgeting slightly, averting her gaze at her erroneous assumption. “Well, thank you very much. But I’m safer in Castle Fulton than anywhere else.”

The amusement suddenly left Logan. She was too naive, too trusting. “Don’t be too sure. A murderer can be anyone. Someone you trust, even.” He saw the change in her immediately. Determination clouded her eyes; her chin rose in defiance. He knew instinctively what the little spitfire planned to do. His brows furrowed. “You’re going after him, aren’t you?”

Shock rocked her body and she stepped away from him, bowing her head to conceal her thoughts. “Don’t be silly.”

His hand shot out, capturing her chin and lifting it until her eyes met his. Radiant orbs challenged him, dared him to contradict her. They were so vibrant, so full of life and courage. “Solace,” he murmured. He’d hate to have to extinguish that life if she got too close to the truth. He dropped his hand. “Be careful.”

She nodded once and backed away down the hall. Logan watched her go until she was swallowed by the darkness.

Chapter Six

S
olace stared down at the map of Castle Fulton spread out on the table before her.

“All the outer walls are stationed with extra guards,” Captain Montgomery said.

Solace watched the captain of the guard’s finger trace an area on the map. She turned her gaze to him as he ran his hand over his blond mustache and down his beard. His brown eyes gazed intently at the detailed sketch for a moment before shifting to Solace. “I expect that the arrow attacks will start any time now, and it appears the trebuchet might be ready tomorrow, at the earliest. With any luck it will rain and slow the production.”

“You’ve doubled the men at the gatehouse?”

The captain nodded. “And we have men in the storerooms listening for sappers. No one’s going to tunnel into Castle Fulton without us knowing about it.”

“Well done, Captain,” Solace congratulated. “I’m certain Barclay will have a very difficult time finding entrance to Castle Fulton.”

“Thank you, m’lady,” the captain replied.

“Has lady Alissa met with you?”

Montgomery nodded. “She didn’t say anything. She knows nothing of protecting the castle.”

“Keep an open mind to her suggestions, if she has any. And let’s keep our meetings a secret.”

Montgomery bowed. “As you wish, m’lady.”

“A messenger was dispatched to my father with word of Barclay’s siege?”

“He left as soon as we received word Barclay’s army was heading our way.”

“Then I’m sure Father will be here with his army soon to stop all this madness, and that coward Barclay will flee into the dark hole where he came from. All we have to do is hold the castle until his arrival.”

Montgomery studied the map for a long, quiet moment, his brow wrinkled in concern.

“Is there something else?” Solace wondered.

He hesitated for a moment. “I don’t know what Barclay has planned, but it seems strange to me he is not building a temporary housing for his men. Usually, by now a siege castle would have been constructed, but I see no sign of one. And they haven’t erected any palisades. Something just doesn’t seem right.” He scowled deeply. “It’s as if he doesn’t expect to be there for very long.”

Anxiety slithered up Solace’s spine. “Let’s just make sure he’s wrong,” she answered, trying to suppress the uneasiness that gripped her.

***

After attending morning services at the chapel, Solace strolled into the outer ward beneath a gray sky. The air was fresh with the hint of coming rain. She missed Gwen terribly. She had no one to discuss her plans with. But she understood why Gwen and her father had left Castle Fulton when they’d heard the siege was imminent. They didn’t want to be trapped in the castle for months. But that didn’t prevent Solace from missing her friend.

As she walked the grounds, she stopped before Tom Reed’s pig pen. He was busy feeding a bucket of slop to his sows. She glanced at the nearby wall of the castle, shaking her head and scowling. A simple fence for the pigs wasn’t enough. Solace knew she had to prepare the castle and her people for the arrows and boulders that would soon fly over the castle walls.

“It won’t do,” she said, moving to Tom’s side. He glanced up at her. “One arrow attack and the pigs will be slaughtered,” she continued. “You have to build an enclosure for them with a sturdy roof.”

Tom nodded. “Very well, my lady.”

“If you need tools or help, ask Ned,” she added.

“M’lady?” Tom called, then hesitated for a moment. “Do you think the Baron is going to try to starve us out, or do you think he’s really going to attack?”

Solace stared at him, sympathy tugging at her heart. He had no way of knowing what was happening beyond the walls other than the exaggerated tales that uninformed gossip produced. “We have to be prepared for either,” she replied. “So you keep those pigs safe. Our lives could depend on it.”

Tom nodded.

Solace continued her stroll through the ward. Her hair was braided behind her, and the dress she had picked out was a simple brown cotton smock with a beige sideless surcoat. It was comfortable, and Lillian couldn’t complain too much if she ripped it. She knew she had a lot of work to do today.

Solace lifted her head, and her gaze came to rest on the closed drawbridge, the lowered portcullis. What was once an inviting entrance teeming with visitors was now a formidable blockade, barring the access of any travelers. Solace wondered where the wandering monks would stop on their pilgrimage to the Abbey of St. Michael now that Fulton’s gates were closed. She looked around the ward, noticing the absence of the brown-cloaked monks. She felt a surge of anger toward Barclay. Not only had he driven Gwen and her father away, but the monks had also fled. The castle didn’t seem whole without them.

She glanced toward the keep and the dungeon. She had meant to get to the dungeon and speak with some of the prisoners, but had not had an opportunity to do it yet.

Solace rubbed a hand over her eyes. She had spent half the night lying awake in her bed. A killer in Castle Fulton. It could spell doom for them. Her people needed to be protected. She had to find him. Her gaze swept the crowd of peasants and soldiers around her. She knew most of the people, and those she didn’t know by name, she at least knew their faces. Had Barclay somehow bribed someone? The thought made her scowl. Even though she knew the attraction of coin was strong, she liked to believe her people and men were loyal and they wouldn’t betray Fulton so easily.

But strangely, it wasn’t the thought of a killer that had kept her awake. It was the offer of protection. Protection proposed by someone with deep gray eyes.

She wiped a strand of hair from her eyes as her gaze swept the outer ward. She saw the falconer immediately. He stood a head above everyone and wasn’t hard to miss as he spoke with old Ben across the courtyard. The falcon perched majestically on the leather patch sewn onto the shoulder of his brown tunic.

A man carrying an armload of wood toward the kitchens crossed Solace’s vision. She leaned her head to the side, looking around the man to get a better glimpse of the falconer’s powerful physique. Even when he was standing still, the muscles in his arms strained against his tunic. A hot flush spread through her body as she remembered the feel of his hands on hers.