Warriors Of Legend (40 page)

“Lady, please,” he shouted. “Sarah had a vision and saw your death by the Baron’s hand. ‘Tis why he had her killed. He knows of your plan, lady, flee while you can.”

“Silence, dog!” Micah roared. “I should kill you where you stand. John, Hubert, toss his arse in the dungeon.”

The two men dragged Tobin away.

“Lady,” he screamed. “Heed my warning!”

Kate’s mind reeled with confusion. What was Tobin talking about? His shouts grew muffled as John and Hubert hauled him through the kitchens. The door to the dungeons slammed closed, silencing his voice completely. Kate turned her attention back to her wounded husband. She could worry about the boy’s words later.

Micah’s expression remained furious but he allowed Kate to guide him to his chair. A servant brought her some bandages and her herb bag.

The guests stood back, wide–eyed, their whispers rippling through the hall. Kate was grateful the dagger had hit on the outside of Micah’s shoulder, burying into the heavy muscle on his arm. The damage could have been much worse if it had struck Micah’s chest. She shivered and started cleaning the wound.

Micah seized his wine cup with his left hand and drank deeply, his limbs still shaking with fury.

“I will need to stitch this closed,” Kate said softly. “Shall we go upstairs?”

“Nay,” Micah growled. “It’s bad enough the sod ruined my new tunic. He will not send me cowering to my room nor destroy our Christmas on top of it.” Micah glanced at the minstrels. “Play, you fools! Everyone, dance. This is a revel, and by God, we’re going to continue it.”

Kate stared at him. Micah clung to his temper tenuously. Could she blame him? She wouldn’t be in a pleasant mood if someone had shoved a dagger in her arm. Kate continued to clean the wound, trying to be as gentle as possible. Micah still bit back a few curses.

“I tried to warn you,” she said softly. “But it all happened so fast.”

“I know,” Micah replied, his expression easing slightly. “The flash of terror on your face told me I had best look to the rear.”

Her lips quirked at his choice of words and Micah took a deep breath, his anger fading. Kate threaded her needle and started to stitch the wound closed.

“One thing is certain,” Micah said. “After seeing this tunic, I know these stitches will be the best in all of Cumbria.”

Kate smiled at him and concentrated on her work.

“Baron,” Hubert said as he and John approached. “The knave is secured.”

Micah nodded then abruptly shook his head. “What in Heaven’s name is going on here?”

“I have no idea, Baron,” Hubert replied, his green eyes grave. “The boy kept screaming the same things over and over.”

Micah scowled, taking another drink of wine. He glanced around the room. “William come here.”

The boy sprinted over, his eyes wide and his face pale. He dropped to his knees before Micah. “Sir, you must believe me, I had no idea—”

Micah’s expression relaxed into a smile. “I believe you William. But can you think of anything which might give us some clues?”

The boy pondered for a moment then abruptly shook his head. “I only know Tobin visited Sarah often in the dungeons. You know how I feel about her.”

Micah scowled again. “The wench was certainly more trouble than she was worth.”

Kate finished the stitches and covered the wound with a bandage. “That should hold you together. We must be cautious of infection but the wound was relatively clean.”

Micah nodded and flexed his arm experimentally. “Thank you, Kate.” He stood and looked at John and Hubert. “This whole fiasco troubles me. I want to check the boy’s sleeping area.”

Kate sighed and sank into her chair as the three men walked away. She rubbed her eyes. What had Tobin meant? She glanced at the door Micah disappeared through then back at the revelers. The atmosphere grew thick with artificial merriment, but since Micah had left, it was her responsibility to see to their guests. Kate took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, hoping her stomach would stop hurting.

***

Micah entered the small room in the stable where Tobin bunked with the other hands. His shoulder pounded mercilessly, only adding to his vile temper. By the holies, what was going on? He couldn’t believe Tobin had just tried to kill him. Micah had been kind to the lad, more so than any other lord. He gave Tobin permission to work on his illuminations. Although he had his doubts about Tobin’s sincerity, Micah had not ordered him locked away or the truth beaten from him. He even allowed Kate to give Tobin a more gentle punishment for fighting rather than order a good thrashing.

Micah’s gaze swept the room, stopping on Tobin’s bunk. He spotted a small wooden box underneath. Micah hauled the box out and set it on the bunk, the boy’s words tumbling through his head.

He will kill you!

How could Tobin believe Micah would ever harm Kate?

Sarah had a vision.

Could the lad have believed the misguided words of a teasing strumpet and acted only to protect his baroness? It was farfetched but Sarah obviously had a talent for manipulating young lads.

He knows of your plan, lady, flee while you can.

What plan?

Micah shook his head. Should he give credence to the words of a boy who had just tried to kill him?

Micah sorted through the box and found a large amount of parchment, all with drawings. He flipped through them, again marveling at the lad’s talent. There were more simple practice sketches, many of them with letters of the alphabet. He handed them to John. “It’s a shame so much talent must go to waste now,” Micah said. “I would have been better served if I had sent him to the abbey. If the boy already knows his letters, the priests could have focused his talents to better things other than trying to murder his baron.”

“Aye,” John grunted as he and Hubert looked at the drawings.

“Who taught him the letters?” Hubert asked.

Micah shrugged. Another parchment, folded into a small square and shoved into the corner of the box, caught his eye. He scowled and pulled it out, carefully opening it.

You must be cautious. If Micah discovers us I fear for my life. Since the poisoning attempt against him was bungled you must come up with a better plan. I do not know how long my pretense at loving him will keep his suspicions at bay.

Baroness Kate de Montfort

The note was in Kate’s handwriting.

The breath squeezed out of Micah’s lungs as his heart withered into ash. His hands shook as shock and torment shredded through him.
This could not be!
Every fiber of his being fought to deny it. Kate could not be behind the plot to murder him.

Tobin’s voice echoed in Micah’s head again.
He knows of your plan, lady, flee while you can.

Impossible! Kate had said she loved him.

Love is a lie!

Micah flinched as the voice he could not silence drove a dagger through him.

The letter matched Kate’s handwriting exactly. There was no other explanation. Micah should have known, he should have listened to his instincts. Love really was a lie.

Micah slowly straightened, a fury bordering on madness seething through him.

John looked at him and stepped back. “Micah, what’s wrong?”

He stood and shoved the parchment into John’s hands. “Sarah’s vision was correct,” he snarled, unable to recognize his own voice. “I have discovered the plot.” He sucked in a deep breath.

John quickly read the note with Hubert peering over his shoulder. Their faces lost color at the same time.

“This is impossible,” John whispered.

“Aye,” Hubert said tightly. “The baroness would never do anything like this.”

Micah fought to curb his rage and folded his arms across his chest. His muscles coiled so tightly that they trembled. “You see the evidence written in Kate’s hand. What else can this be? She has every reason to want me dead.” He snatched the letter from John and tried to push past him.

“Micah, wait,” John said, stepping in front of him again. “You don’t actually believe this do you?”

The demon of Micah’s past broke free. It hurled him into a sickening spiral of agony – the agony of knowing love again proved a farce. He had been played for a fool. The pain stripped him of coherent thought and left only bleeding rage.

“Of course I believe it. After all that’s happened, it makes sense…too much sense.”

John stared at him in horror. “But Kate cared for you when you were poisoned. You survived only because of her ministrations.”

“Kate also admitted to her use of Hemlock and Bryony Root. The Savin Oil came from her herb bag. She sat the wine on the table and she discovered Sarah. What if they had been working together?”

It was Providence, Micah, nothing I did. Kate’s voice whispered in memory. You are too stubborn to die.

His spirit threatened to shatter, spewing pieces of itself in a myriad of colors and light. Micah saw his uncle standing above him, sword raised for the death stroke. This time it landed, but it was Kate who struck him through the heart.

“But MacLeary worked his own deviltry,” John argued. “He ordered Kate’s abduction. You know he wants you dead.”

Pain lanced through his skull. Micah scrambled after the tiny shreds of his soul, fighting to hold on to a small part of his sanity. He battled to shove the demon back from whence it came. But it flayed at his heart and clawed at his mind.

I only performed my duties,
the merchant had said.
The lady sent Laird MacLeary a letter, begging him to save her from you…

“What if the abduction was only a ruse in order for Kate to develop her plan of treachery with MacLeary?” The sickening pit of grief and fury drew him into its deadly embrace.
Nay! Nay! This cannot be!
Micah’s heart screamed, threatening to rip itself in half.

He gazed at the letter again.
I do not know how long my pretense at loving him will keep his suspicions at bay.

“She said she loved me,” he whispered.

Kate had lied.

Waves of anguish rolled over him, destroying his heart like rotten wood, leaving broken emptiness in its wake. Micah shuddered, clinging only to the resolve that had hardened him in the past.

“She does love you, Micah.”

Lies! All lies!
Micah closed his eyes, remembering the passion he and Kate shared. Despite his best efforts, and the promises he made to himself, Kate wormed her way into his heart. His agony was as painfully real as when his uncle tried to kill him. But it was all a lie. Micah had given Kate his heart and she only wanted him dead.

Now he understood his plaguing doubts. He had ignored his instincts, wanting so much to believe in Kate. Even after he swore to himself it would never happen again.

“I don’t believe you are actually considering this,” John said tightly. “Why would she ally with MacLeary?”

“With me dead she would have her inheritance and my garrison. My men would undoubtedly remain loyal to my wife, if they believed I had been murdered by MacLeary. They would defend Appleby in memory of me. They will keep Kate safe and she will have everything she wants.”

“Dear God, Micah, how can you say this? She carries your child.”

“Aye. If I die, she has an heir. Henry’s laws also state a widow with heirs will not be forced into marriage if she did not wish it. If Kate bears a child not of MacLeary blood, she forever pulls Appleby out of the laird’s reach. Even the Scottish church will not support him. She is playing both ends. I will be dead and MacLeary defeated.”

“Micah—”

“The letter is signed by her and clearly in her handwriting! What is worse, I fell into her trap like a besotted puppy. Now stand aside.”

John moved but Hubert, grim faced and tight lipped, did not.

“Hubert, get out of my way.”

“Kate did not do this.”

“Mind your place, huntsman.”

Hubert bristled, his eyes flashing green fire.

Micah stared at him. He had never seen the huntsman so furious. “Are you in league with her?” Micah asked, his voice soft but deadly.

Hubert lifted his lip in a snarl. “You know I am loyal to you. Who else would be daft enough to stand and keep you from making the biggest mistake in your life?”

“My mistake was believing in Kate.” He took a step toward the door.

“Micah,” Hubert snapped grabbing his arm. “Listen to me, man.”

His hackles rose. How dare this insolent pup call him by name and lay a hand on him. “Remove your hand or I will remove your head.”

Hubert released him, his eyes narrowing. “Remove my head if you will but I will die knowing Micah de Montfort cares nothing for the truth.”

Micah wrapped his fingers tightly around the hilt of his dagger on his belt. “I should kill you where you stand.”

Hubert refused to be intimidated, his body as taut as a bowstring. “The Lord de Montfort I joined and fought for was a demanding leader but he always fought for truth. He never turned his back on it no matter how painful. If I no longer fight for that lord then it is better I die now.”

Micah’s rage and pain continued to fog his reason. He paused and stared at Hubert. Fury flashed in Hubert’s eyes. He refused to back down, even to his lord. Damn this huntsman. Micah should have never allowed him to join his army. He proved too independent, too surly, too honest. Strange, those were the exact reasons why Micah liked the man.

Micah’s resolve almost crumbled but he looked again at the letter. It was Kate’s handwriting, he knew for a fact. He had seen her script on various items many times while running the keep’s daily activities. His shredded heart hardened. “Stand aside, Hubert.”

“God’s wounds, Micah, you will condemn an innocent woman and lose all you have gained.”

“Gained”? Micah roared. “I have gained nothing but a poisoning, a dagger in my shoulder, and a wife who is a murderous Delilah.”

Hubert clenched his jaw. “Then you are blind. May God help you, Baron, for I no longer will.” He spun on his heel and left.

Micah’s shoulders sagged and doubt ripped him in twain. Had Kate tried to kill him?
Nay, please, nay! This cannot be happening.
John and Hubert’s words echoed in his head, confusing him even more. They adamantly believed in Kate’s innocence and would not give their faith rashly. What if they were right? What if he was about to condemn an innocent woman?