While Angels Slept (26 page)

“It is my
fault,” he hissed. “Had I not… I sent her away, I sent you all away, to escape
Geoff and see how my plan has come to ruin. Had I only kept everyone here….”

Val grasped his
wrist, squeezing. “You did what you had to do,” she insisted softly. “You had
no choice.  You believed you were doing what was best for all of us.”

He wasn’t
soothed. He wiped at his eyes, fighting off a sob. “And Arabel,” he whispered
miserably. “My Dear God, my daughter… what has happened to her?”

Val could see
her brother was verging on a collapse and she struggled to sit up, to comfort
him.

“Tevin, listen
to me,” she held on to his big hand. “You are impeccable in your judgment,
always. We all trust you with our lives. What happened… it was not your fault
and you must not blame yourself.”

He dropped his
chin to his chest, lowering his head until he fell face-first onto the mattress
beside his sister. “I made the decision,” he wept. “There is no one to blame
but me. If Cantia and Arabel have come to ruin, I... I cannot live with the
guilt. I will not live without them.”

Seized with
horror, Val grasped his face, forcing her to look at him.  She was angry,
exhausted, weak, tears brimming in her dark eyes.

“Listen to me,”
she hissed. “I have lost my mother and father and one brother. You are all I
have left and I will not hear this, do you understand? I hate you for saying
such things, Tevin. It was not your fault. None of this was. Take a stand and
be the strong man that I know you are, for weakness and self-pity do not suit
you. If Cantia and Arabel are still alive, you shame them with this behavior. 
They need your help and all you can think of is yourself.”

Tevin looked at
his sister, so pale and angry, hearing every word like a hammer in his brain. 
But as he gazed at her, her meaning began to set in and he realized she was
right. If Cantia and Arabel were indeed alive, they were waiting for him to
save them.

Tevin was smart
man; he knew his power and he knew what he was capable of. No matter who had
taken Cantia and his daughter, he had the resources and the resolve to find
them. And when he did, no matter if it was Lucifer himself, he could and would
defeat them.  No battle in his life would ever be more important than the one
to come. Perhaps all other battles he had been involved in were simply practice
for this one. It was the only one that mattered.

“I am sorry,” he
said after a moment, swallowing his tears and laboring to regain his composure.
“You are right; you are entirely right. Forgive me my moment of weakness.”

Val could see he
meant it. She could see the light of sanity returning to his dark eyes and she
sighed heavily, with great relief, lying back against the pillow.

“There is
nothing to forgive, brother,” she murmured. “We are all entitled to moments of
temporary insanity. What matters now is what you intend to do. Myles is
assembling your men in the bailey.”

Tevin drew in a
deep breath, wiping his face of any remaining moisture and squaring his
enormous shoulders.  He stood up, rather unsteadily at first, as his shook
himself and regained his composure.   As he calmed, his mind began to work in
only the way Tevin’s was capable. It was steely, deep, and far-reaching. He
drew on those characteristics to pull him through the crisis.

“Geoff will see
the men assembling in the bailey and he will want to know why,” he said,
hearing the muted sounds of men and horses. “I have no choice but to tell him
the truth. There is no point in lying to the man; he will know that Cantia and
Arabel have been taken and we must retrieve them.”

Val watched him
pace in the tiny room. “He may want to ride with you.”

“Let him. But he
will take orders from me.”

She didn’t say
anything for a moment, watching as the great war lord made a strong return.  This
was the brother she knew, the deadly and cunning warrior that no man could best. 
She sought to help him as much as she could.

“As I told you,
it took me about an hour to return to Rochester, and I am supposing Dagan and
Gavril’s corpses are still where I last saw them,” she said quietly. “That will
be your starting point. As I recall, it was a rather wooded area, so they could
have traveled in any number of directions but it should not be difficult to
find tramped paths through the foliage. The trees worked both for and against
them; it shielded them from our party, but it will also leave a trail for you
to follow.”

Tevin nodded,
his mind already moving to the ride south.  He looked at his sister, seeing her
wounded body as the result of the attack, and his focus shifted to her for the
moment. “Has the surgeon already examined you?”

She nodded
faintly. “Right before you came.”

“What did he
say?”

“That I have a
crack on my skull and I am bruised, but that I should heal.”

“Then I am
grateful for small mercies this day.” His dark eyes bore into her. “Have no
doubt that I will return, and when I do, it will be with Cantia and Arabel.”

Val smiled
faintly. “Do not forget Hunt.”

“Never.”

Forcing a smile
at his sister, Tevin moved to the doorway but paused before he left the room
completely. “Val?”

“Aye?”

He gave her a
rather reproachful look, as much as he could muster. “Do not believe for one
minute that I did not see de Lohr kiss you,” he said. “Take heed that I will
deal with his bold actions upon my return.”

Val started
giggling. “You will not.”

“I will.”

“Leave him alone
or you will face my wrath.”

He scowled. “Are
you saying that you... you
approve
of his actions? His forwardness? His
slobbering lips against your flesh?”  

“All that and
more.”

His scowl turned
into an expression of outrage. “What
more
is there?”

Val’s giggles
turned into full-blown laughter, wincing because it hurt her head to laugh so
much. She waved her brother on. “I will not tell you. Go now and find Cantia
and Arabel.”

He broke down
into a smile. “I will.”

“Do not come
back without them.”

His smile faded
and a deadly gleam came to his eye. “I swear I will not. With God as my
witness, I will not.”

Val believed him
implicitly.

***

It was morning. 
Lying on the same blanket that had covered her head for most of the night,
Cantia could see the soft strains of early morning light infiltrating the
shelter.  It was cold but she had her arms around Arabel and Hunt, both
children sleeping soundly in the early morning.  But Cantia had never felt less
like sleeping in her life.

She really
wasn’t sure where she was, and she had no idea how long they had traveled to
get here.  It felt like days.   The men who had abducted her had hardly said a
word between them, and they didn’t speak to her at all until they reached their
encampment.  Then, their only words were directions to enter the shelter and
stay there with the children.   She did, mostly because Arabel was weeping
hysterically and she wanted to soothe the young girl. She didn’t even bother to
speak to them or ask any questions, at least for the moment.  All she wanted to
do was make sure the children were well.  She would deal with the rest later.

Now it was
morning and she could hear the bird chirping, awaking to the new day. She
lifted her head, looking around the tent, hearing sounds all around them.
People were talking and there was the soft crunch of leaves as they moved
through the forest.  She smelled smoke.  Feeling some bravery, as well as
outrage and confusion, she got up and dared to step outside.

It was brisk and
clear. Cantia glanced back at the shelter that had housed them through the
night; it was made from leaves, rocks, pieces of wood, basically anything that
would fit together and hold a shape. They were in an area that had some rolling
hills to it and this particularly shelter was backed up into the base of a rise
so that the back end of it was pushed into the dirt.  She stood by the door,
looking around the area now that daylight had come, and she could see an entire
camp spread out before her.

There was a
surprising amount of people milling about, collecting wood for the fire and
water for cooking. A small stream ran over to her left, about a dozen yards
away, and she could see both men and women drawing water.  There also seemed to
be a massive cooking fire off over to the right, just outside of a hedge of
trees, and she could see a few people gathering around it. 

Increasingly
puzzled, she stepped away from the door, growing more interested in her
surroundings, when someone abruptly grabbed her by the wrist.

Startled, she
shrieked as he yanked her away from the stone and wood shelter, pulling her
with him as he walked towards the massive cooking fire in the near distance.  The
man who had her in his grasp wasn’t particularly large, but he had a strong
grip as he pulled her along.  He looked at her and Cantia could see that he was
older, with stringy dark hair and flashing dark eyes, and his body was lithe
and wiry.  Then he smiled at her, a rather insane gesture, and she was stabbed
by fear.

“See who I
have!” he bellowed to anyone who would listen. “Our prize has awoken!”

Some of the
people began cheering and Cantia tried to pull away from him as he dragged her
over to the cooking fire.  He yelled some more, drawing a crowd, and people
began to come out of their lean-to’s and shacks to see what all of the
commotion was about.  By the time they reached the cooking fire, Cantia was
nearly in full blown panic, trying desperately to pull away from the man.  As
they came to a halt in a crowd of dirty, smelly, loud people, he slapped her
across the face when she tried to kick him.

“That will be
enough from you, woman,” he growled, his mad-like grin vanished. “Behave
yourself.”

Cantia’s hand
flew to her stinging cheek. It hadn’t been a hard slap, but it had been enough
to smart. “Behave
myself
?” she repeated, angry and afraid. “You abducted
me and my son, and you have the gall to tell me to behave?”

The crowd
snickered as the man just looked at her. Then, that crazy grin returned. “Ah,”
he said, almost sweetly. “Listen to her speak. She is a fine, fine lady with a
noble background. Is that not correct, little chicken?”

Cantia glanced
around at the crowd nervously. “Who are you? Tell me your name.”

The man snorted.
“Still, she makes demands. This is a woman used to having her way.”

The crowd
cheered and jeered and Cantia was struggling not to become completely
terrified. “I was not making demands,” she clarified, hoping she didn’t sound
arrogant.  She didn’t want to appear demanding in front of this rather rough
group. “I was simply asking a question. Who are you and why did you abduct us?”

Without letting
go of her wrist, the man bowed deeply. “M’lady,” he said mockingly. “I was
under the impression we were saving you.”

Cantia’s fight
came to a halt, stumped by his statement. She looked at him, shocked. “What…
what do you mean?”

The man mimicked
her expression. “Were you not in danger? Were you not about to be abducted by
that knight, perhaps even worse?”

Cantia was at a
loss, suddenly not feeling so completely frightened. “You saw what happened?”

The man nodded
confidently. “We had been trailing your party for some time,” he said. “We saw
the knight kill his two colleagues and set upon you. So we saved you and your
children.”

He seemed very
proud of himself. Cantia was completely baffled. “You
saved
us?” she
repeated. “What in the world is going on here? Why were you following us?”

The man
shrugged. “Because you were there,” he said simply. “To tell you the truth, we
were going to rob you but when we saw the knight turn against you, we decided
to act. Perhaps it was because of the children or perhaps it was because we still
seek your riches. I do not know. Perhaps we may kill you after all.”

Cantia was back
to fear again. “Please do not kill us,” she begged softly. “If it is money you
seek, then I can promise you a handsome reward if you return us to Rochester
Castle.”

The man’s careless
and rather humorous posturing fled and he peered at her, clearly interested.

“Rochester
Castle?” he said, somewhat incredulous. “Is that your home?”

She nodded
eagerly. “Aye,” she replied. “My... my husband is Viscount Winterton. He will
pay you a great deal of money if you return the children and I unharmed.”

The crowd
rumbled restlessly and the man seemed to lose some of his confidence. In truth,
he looked rather uncertain.

“Winterton,” he
repeated. “Is he not part of East Anglia?”

By his tone,
Cantia wasn’t so certain that was a good thing. She didn’t like the way he said
it. But she didn’t back out, not after she’d already divulged the information.

“Aye,” she said,
eyeing him, eyeing the crowd. “Please return us to Rochester. I will make sure
you receive a goodly reward.”

The man let go
of her wrist.  He seemed to be oddly subdued, unusual for a man who had been so
animated moments before. He looked around the fire, at the faces of the dirty
and destitute people, seemingly lost in thought. Cantia watched with mounting
apprehension as he seemed to ponder her offer.

“He will kill
us,” he finally said.

Cantia shook her
head. “Nay, he will not,” she insisted. “You did indeed save us from a rogue
knight.  My husband will greatly reward you, I promise.”

The man’s gaze
lingered on her. “Winterton is a man without mercy. I should know. His army
burned my village and destroyed my home. My family and I had to take refuge in
the forest because we have nowhere else to go. Now we live here, with these
fine people, and we take what we want.”