Chapter
2
I pressed the young knight’s dagger against his throat, only enough to scare him into compliance. I had no intention of killing a boy—even if he was well-trained.
“Stop!” the Moor cried, backing away from his opponents, his attention fixed upon the blade at the boy’s throat. “We surrender!”
The fright in the dark-skinned man’s eyes told me more than words. This boy I had within my grasp was someone of importance, someone the Moor had been willing to defend to the death.
“Cease your fighting,” I commanded my men.
They complied and dropped their swords to their sides but without taking their attention from the Moor. I had no doubt he would have killed my knights if he’d been given the chance to fight them long enough. Already one was wounded and favoring his non-fighting arm.
The boy squirmed against me, and I loosened the knife at his throat, not wishing to cause him more harm. He wasn’t seasoned. The slender fingers, clean fingernails, and unblemished skin told me he hadn’t been in battle before.
Who was he?
Before surrounding Ludlow Castle, my sources had informed me the earl’s daughters were inside but that his young son lived at one of his other residences.
Had my sources been wrong about the son? Was this the earl’s heir after all? I’d assumed he was but a young child. Had I misinterpreted the information?
The Moor’s eyes glittered with a determination that warned me not to trust him. He’d lash out and kill all three of us as soon as he could manage it.
“Bind the Moor,” I ordered.
He started to resist.
I tightened the dagger against my prisoner’s throat. The young man released a cry of pain—a very unmanly cry. But the cry—as I’d suspected—was all it took to make the Moor submit. His easy acquiescence only confirmed the importance of my captive.
I waited patiently as my men used the cord from the bed curtain to fasten the Moor’s arms behind his back. Even then, I wasn’t sure the man was contained. “Tie him to the chair.”
As my men worked to further secure the Moor, the knights I’d sent to explore the other chambers in the living quarters returned. They were empty-handed. “No sign of the daughters, Sir Aldric.”
I’d sensed the Moor had been lying when he’d claimed that the earl’s daughters had escaped. But what if my instincts were wrong? It would be a first.
And if I failed this mission, it would also be a first. During the year I’d been working for Lord Pitt, I hadn’t failed a single mission. In fact, I’d been so successful Pitt had made me captain of his army.
More importantly, he’d finally offered me forgiveness for my debt and the grievances against him. I’d long since repaid him two times the amount I’d owed. I’d also long since reimbursed the other lords. My gambling debts were gone. And I’d even managed to replenish Maidstone’s coffers. Although my brother Bennet and his wife Sabine hadn’t wanted my repayment for the sacrifices they’d made for me, they hadn’t been able to turn down my occasional gifts—the relics and artwork I gleaned on my raids.
Already in my short time within Ludlow Castle, I’d noted that the keep contained a wealth of treasures sure to please Pitt. As always, he’d pay me for my service to him by giving me a portion of the spoils. However, this time, Pitt had entrusted me not only with bringing him the wealth inside the castle but with capturing the earl’s children.
If the mission hadn’t come down from the king himself, I likely wouldn’t have agreed to command the troops. It was one thing to lead raids against criminals and rogues and rebels of the crown. It was another thing entirely to involve families, particularly innocent children. Even if Pitt and the king had good reason to take the earl’s daughters, I wasn’t fully convinced their plan was justified.
Whatever the case, I’d committed myself and now would see the mission through to completion. That meant finding the earl’s daughters and delivering them to Pitt.
I studied the Moor a moment longer, his face now impassive and giving nothing away. This young man within my grasp was the key in getting the Moor to divulge his secrets. Without releasing the knife’s pressure at the boy’s throat, I grabbed one of his slender hands and held it up.
“I will give you to the count of five to tell me where the earl’s daughters really are, or I’ll start cutting off this boy’s fingers.” My tone was rigid and uncompromising. I wouldn’t cut off his fingers, but they didn’t know that.
“One, two, three . . .”
The Moor made eye contact with the boy who shook his head, as if in warning. Apparently he and the Moor were working together at hiding the daughters.
“Four, five.” I flipped the knife from the boy’s throat to his hand and pressed the knife against his thumb.
“Wait!” came a girl’s voice behind me.
I glanced over my shoulder to see a pale-faced young girl stumble out of a side door. Her blue eyes were frightened, her golden hair in disarray, and her bodice askew as though she’d begun to change but hadn’t finished.
At the same moment, I could sense the change in posture of my captive, the slow sag in his shoulders and the draining of his resistance.
“Please don’t hurt her.” The girl’s voice trembled and tears streaked her cheeks.
Her?
I spun my prisoner and wrenched the helmet away, revealing a woman’s beautiful face with high cheekbones, an elegant nose, and full lips. Although her red hair was pulled back into a messy knot, strands had come loose and framed her smooth, unblemished skin. If she wasn’t already stunning enough, her brilliant green eyes framed by long dark lashes made her more so.
Eyes that peered at me with contempt.
As a wave of self-loathing washed over me, I slackened my hold on her. I’d fought against a lady, pressed a knife to her throat, and threatened to cut off her thumb. Only the worst kind of brutes engaged in such treatment of women, and I didn’t consider myself to be one of them. No matter how low I’d once sunk into gambling and drinking, I’d always treated women with the respect they were due. And that hadn’t changed.
“I beg your forgiveness, my lady.” I released her and tossed her dagger to the bed. “I didn’t realize you were a woman or I wouldn’t have—”
In an instant, she scooped her sword from the floor and pressed the tip into the slit in my gorget against my neck. Her lovely chin rose a notch, and her green eyes glinted with anger. “Tell your men to release my servant. Let him take my sister away, and I shall hand myself over to you.”
“No, Olivia,” the young blond-haired woman said, shaking her head frantically.
Olivia Norfolk. The eldest daughter of the Earl of Ulster. From her beauty, I should have guessed her identity. I’d overheard other noblemen speak about the earl’s strikingly beautiful daughters, but I hadn’t expected Olivia to be quite so vibrant, so alive, so exquisite.
I found myself unable to move, unable to do anything except stare at her. It was quite clear her beauty had the capability of casting a spell upon men, rendering them into marble sculptures.
“Go now, Izzy,” Olivia said to the other woman, who was decidedly younger, most likely the earl’s other daughter, Isabelle Norfolk.
Now that I’d discovered who I was looking for, doubts rose to assail me. I couldn’t take these two innocent women as prisoners back to Pitt, could I? They weren’t a part of the earl’s schemes, and they surely didn’t deserve to suffer for their father’s evil plots.
Maybe if I let them escape, I could find a viable excuse to give Pitt regarding my failed mission.
Just as soon as the thought came, I let it pass. The Earl of Ulster was stirring up dissension against the king. Already the Marcher barons resisted submitting to the king, often refusing to pay taxes and follow his laws. As one of the strongest leaders, the earl was attempting to strengthen alliances among the border lords as well as the Welsh. Everyone knew such alliances would only end in outright war against the king.
But if we stopped the earl now and forced him into compliance with the king, we would weaken the alliances and set an example for all the other Marcher barons. I’d agreed with Pitt and the king that taking the earl’s daughters as prisoners and holding them for ransom would force the earl to submit. I couldn’t throw away the plans now.
“Make haste, Izzy.” Olivia’s voice turned urgent, and her sister’s eyes widened, flickering back and forth between Olivia and the Moor who was still bound securely in the chair.
As if sensing that her sister was too frightened to go anywhere on her own, Olivia thrust the tip of her sword further into my gorget and motioned to my men. “Let Cecil go this instant, or I shall kill your commander.”
The knights hurried toward the Moor.
I sighed at their lack of confidence in my abilities. After watching me fight these many months, surely they knew I wouldn’t succumb so easily.
I jerked backward, breaking the connection with Olivia’s sword. At the same time I brought my forearm up with enough power to knock the weapon from her grip. It flew into the air. I caught it then spun and pointed the blade against the Moor’s chest.
The man didn’t flinch, not even to blink.
In addition to having a weak spot for her sister, Olivia had one for this servant. She’d given away as much in the few minutes I’d observed her. Concern for him had likely brought her out of the boudoir in the first place. Now I would use that knowledge against her.
“My lady.” I adjusted the hilt and tested the light weight, guessing the sword had been handcrafted just for her. She had some skill with her weapon, had been trained well. But no matter her abilities, I was stronger, more experienced, and more capable. She’d never be able to outfight or outwit me. She needed to know the battle was over and that she must surrender graciously or it wouldn’t go well for her.
“I am under orders to deliver you and your sister to Lord Pitt alive.” I moved the sharp blade of her sword near the Moor’s face. “If you cooperate, I shall spare your servants any ill will.”
I lifted my gaze to hers, to those startlingly green eyes that now glittered with haughty anger. “But if you fail to submit to my command, you’ll force me to find less pleasant ways to do my job.” Without breaking my gaze from hers, I sliced off the tip of the Moor’s pointed goatee so that black wiry hair drifted to his lap.
Her attention flickered to her servant, a shadow of anxiety flitting across her features. Yet even with her concern for the man she’d called Cecil, she jutted her chin stubbornly. “Take me, but leave my sister.”
Keeping a hard, unrelenting glare upon Olivia, I sliced the servant’s goatee again, this time purposefully grazing his chin.
She winced at the sight of the blood I’d drawn. I knew without looking the wound was only skin deep, but I hoped it was enough to scare her.
For several taut moments, she held the gaze of her servant, silent communication passing between them, in which I guessed he was admonishing her to comply. At least for now. Not because he feared for his own life or what I might do to him. He’d fought too fearlessly earlier to care about what became of himself. Rather he wisely realized Olivia and her sister had no other choice. They were my prisoners and there was nothing he or anyone else could do about it.
Finally, she straightened her shoulders and held her head high. Contempt flashed in her eyes. “Very well, sir. I will surrender to you as long as you vow you will leave my household unharmed.”
“You have my word.” I had a sudden urge to correct the way she’d addressed me. As the oldest son, I’d inherited my father’s title, Baron of Windsor. The proper address was my lord or Lord Windsor. Sir was the address given to untitled knights, not lords of manors.
Somehow, I sensed that such titles were very important to Lady Olivia, that she might respect me more if I revealed my true identity. Yet, in the year I’d been working for Pitt, I’d neglected my titles and privileges. By doing so, I’d hoped to forget my old life and all the pain that had accompanied it.
I’d worked hard and kept myself busy enough that the pain had turned into a dull ache locked away in the deep parts of my mind. And that’s where I wanted it to stay. It was better that way. For everybody.
If Lady Olivia wanted to believe she was superior to me, I had no need to prove otherwise. She was simply my prisoner. My job was to deliver her to Pitt. Once I accomplished that, I’d never have to speak with her again.