wcEND.rtf (37 page)

Hunter very much doubted the Scots would have come this far south without their king's knowledge or consent. "Have you sent word to Rupert?"

"Not quite certain of where to locate him," Thomas said. "But I sent messages to all the places I thought he would be."

'Therefore you are not certain he is even aware that his castle has been under attack?"

Thomas shook his head.

"Rupert left no indication of when he would return?"

"Nay, but he is often absent, my lord. This time, however, many other knights were absent also. Some are with Lord Rupert, others with King Edward."

Hunter understood the knightly fee every lord owed to the king, and how some chose to pay him with coin, while others with services. And yet, Rupert should not leave his castle undermanned or at least let his knights know where
to find him. It was foolish of him. And yet, who knew what guided Rupert's mind?

"We shall remain here until the morrow, in case the Scots return with reinforcements. But by mor
n
ing, I must return to Windermere. I cannot leave my own holding unprotected."

"Thank you, my lord. We are very grateful for your intervention."

Hunter downed the rest of the ale, then rose. "I will check on my men. I suggest you post extra guards for the next days, at least until Rupert returns."

******************

HUNTER WALKED TO THE STABLES. MOST OF HIS MEN were tending to their horses, but Jeremy was busy talking to a couple of boys. Seeing Hunter, Jeremy dismissed them and came to his encounter.

"What have you learned?" Hunter asked as they walked, for he knew that was what Jeremy was doing, gathering information.

"Lord Rupert seems to be absent from his castle quite often," Jeremy said.

"That means little. He has other holdings that require his attention."

"Aye, but he often cannot be found. It has happened in two previous occasions when his presence was needed at Hawkhaven."

Interesting, but not what Hunter was looking for. "Any facts to explain his absences?"

"Speculations, my lord."

"Let us hear them."

"It is said that Lord Rupert covets another lord's wife and that accounts for his sudden disappearances."

"Whose wife?"

"That no one knows."

Too simple, but just what Rupert would do. Rupert cared about himself and no one else. He would not think twice about cuckolding even his best friend, if he had a friend. "Anything else?"

Jeremy hesitated.

Hunter halted and eyed Jeremy curiously. The boy never he
l
d his tongue before; why would he now? "Out with it."

"John, one of the stable boys I talked to, overheard an interesting conversation between Lord Rupert and Edmund Toothless the very day you left Hawkhaven after Lord Reginald's burial."

Hunter's attention was piqued. "Who or what was the subject of that conversation?"

"You, my lord," Jeremy said. "You and your chalice."

Hunter's heart skipped a beat. "What do you know of that?"

"I have seen your chalice before," Jeremy revealed, and Hunter schooled his features not to show his surprise. He had thought no one but his mo
th
er, himself, and Détra knew of the chalice.

"You never spoke of it," Jeremy continued, "thus I understood I should not also. What I knew not, and Lord Rupert has also just found out, was that your chalice has some unnatural powers. Is that true, my lord?"

Damn Rupert to hel
l
! It had always been thus between the
m
—
R
upert could not stomach that Hunter might have something he did not, especially if he believed the chalice had powers. The man would not rest now until he took the chalice from Hunter.

"Nonsense,” Hunter said, resuming his walk and leaving a surprised Jeremy behind. "It is but a chalice my mother gave me before she died. It has sentimental value but no magical powers."

"Lord Rupert believes otherwise." Jeremy caught up
with Hunter. "If I were you, my lord, I would watch that chalice very closely from now on."

******************

BEFORE DAWN ARRIVED ON THE FOLLOWING DAY, Hunter was up and ready to depart Hawkhaven. Jeremy joined him and Thomas to break their fast in the great hall, while his men ate in the garrison's quarters. Amid reiterated words of gratitude from Thomas, Hunter and Jeremy stepped outside into the dawning day.

An arrow hissed by Hunter's ears and he dove down, bringing Jeremy with him. Rolling over on the ground, Hunter shouted orders to his men, who had gathered, waiting for him, and they scattered about the bailey looking for cover and also for the unknown archer. From the viewpoint of the guards standing sentinel in the tower over the walls came the signals; there was only one man sighted and he was rapidly disappearing into the woods.

Hunter rose to his feet and ordered one o
f
his men to give pursuit to the messenger. Jeremy picked up the arrow that had hit the stone wall and fallen onto the ground and gave it to Hunter. A parchment was attached to the shaft and tied up with a lady's ribbon. With cold hands Hunter untied the knot and opened the parchment.

He felt the blood drain from his face.

"What is it, my lord?" Jeremy asked.

'The Scots have Lady Détra," Hunter said, still not believing what he had just read.

"Fear not, my lord, we shall rescue her."

"Aye, that we shall." But the Scots wanted him alone and also his chalice. What would the Scots want with his chalice?

THE pe
l
e tower was eerily silent and dark. Hunter halted at a safe distance and observed the battlement roof for any surprises. In the fading moonlight he saw naught, though he was certain a man hid there pointing a sharp arrow at him. Leading his horse and a mare for
Détra
, Hunter approached the square building with its thick walls and narrow second-floor windows, built to withstand short sieges.

Towers such as this abounded in the north of England in response to the constant Scottish raids onto English soil, and this particular one was in the lands of the powerful earl of Lancaster.

It looked to be empty.

A perfect hiding place.

Unchallenged, Hunter reached the only entrance to the tower, an iron-forti
f
ied wooden door on the ground floor.

He dismounted and pushed the door ajar. The gates to hell opened with a creaking sound.

He knew he would be walking into a trap but for the life of him he could not do it any differently. The note had demanded Hunter come alone, and he had, at least for the last part of the journey. Fearing for Détra
'
s life, he ordered his men to stay a safe distance way.

Hand clenching the hilt of his sword, Hunter crossed the threshold into a dark room with no windows. The
l
one light of a torch glowed on the far wall. Beneath it, Détra sat on a stool, her hands tied to her back, her glorious hair in disarray, her mouth sealed with a cloth.

At the sight of him she jumped to her feet
and
the terror in her face told him he need not
l
ook over his shoulders to know they were not alone.

Two men stepped up behind him. Hunter could smell the sweat and dirt common to men in battlefields. They did not speak and Hunter did not turn to acknowledge their presence. He kept a reassuring gaze steadily on Détra to soothe her fears, though his insides coiled with emotion
s
—
r
elief she was alive, fury at the sight of dried blood on her swollen chin, and fear he would fail in saving her from the miscreants' hands.

"Fear not, my lady wife, all shall be wel
l
," he said, taking a step in her direction.

"Brave words for a man in your plight."

Hunter halted. His gaze settled on a man descending the last steps of a narrow staircase in the right corner of the tower. The man came to stand near Détra, his features shadowed. He was a big man and Scottish by the intonation of his voice.

Hunter had half expected to see Rupert here, or at least his lackey, Edmund Toothless. After his conversation wit
h
Jeremy at Hawkbaven and the ransom note demanding his presence and the chalice, Hunter had suspected Rupert
was involved in Détra'
s
abduction. And he might still be. Coward that he was, Rupert would have his minions do his dirty work for him, but a Scottish minion? Grave suspicions assailed Hunter.

Was there more about Rupert than Hunter could ever have imagined? He pushed the thought aside. Détra'
s
safety was his priority now.

"A man who abducts defenseless women would know naught of courage," Hunter spat.

The Scot snorted. "What does an Englishman know of courage when even your king hides behind young lads' arses?" He laughed at his own crude insinuation of King Edward's penchant for boys, but Hunter refused to be drawn into such an inconsequential discussion.

At his silence, the Scot stepped closer to Détra. "Where is the chalice?" he demanded.

Détra'
s
eyes widened in horror
.
She was probably thinking they were as good as dead now since Hunter would not be able to produce a chalice that should be at the bottom of the
l
ake
,

"Release my lady wife
fi
rst."

The man laughed again, a ruthless, grating laugh. "You are in no standing to make demands, English. Give forth the chalice or I shall slit her pretty throat." The man pulled
Détra
's head backward by her hair, then slid his dagger underneath her chin.

Hunter's blood boiled with impotent anger. With effort he controlled his ire. He would not put
Détra'
s life in more danger than it already was. He needed to bide his time. The odds of him winning a confrontation with three armed Scots were against him but not out of his reach, if he chose the right moment.

Slowly Hunter withdrew the chalice from the depths of the sachet he had brought with him and lifted it in the air, exposing its beauty to the Scot's sight.

Hunter glanced Détra'
s
way. Her face was a mask of shock and disappointment, and pain speared his heart with the ease of a sharp dagger.

Now she knew he had lied to her again, and this time, he warranted, she would not be so willing to forgive him. Even though Détra had professed her love for him, even though she had changed in ways he could not even fathom, Hunter had feared the chalice would return her to her old self. And thus he had kept it away from her, hoping he would never have to reveal the chalice still existed. And yet, faced with the choice between his happiness and Détra'
s
life, there had been no choice.

The Scot let go of Détra and she bounced back, almost falling to the floor
.
She caught herself and found her balance with difficulty. "So much trouble for a cup," the Scot said, reaching for it.

Before he could grab it, though, Hunter rammed the chalice up and into the man's face, hitting him square in the jaw, shoving him back and off his feet. Swiftly, Hunter unsheathed his sword and lunged at him, thrusting the blade deep into the man's chest. Spinning around he stood between the two other Scots and Détra, protecting her with his body.