CHAPTER FIFTEEN

 

Sophia was still awake when the fingers of dawn crept through the shutters, casting faint light into the cottage.

Garrick had not come.

She’d waited a long time at the lean-to near the potter’s the previous night. Far too long. She’d been filled with such hope and longing and joy. The idea of continuing where they’d left off earlier in the day had caused butterflies to dance in her middle, a combination of nerves and anticipation. But he hadn’t come.

Her heart ached no matter what reason she latched onto for his absence. Had he left Berwick? That meant he’d broken his promise to tell her before he departed. While she’d known he hadn’t been completely honest with her the previous day, she didn’t think he would leave without speaking with her.

The alternative was that something terrible had happened. That made her heart hurt far worse. Each moment she’d spent lying on her pallet awash in worry had been endless. Once dawn arrived, she intended to go to the inn and see if he was there and find out what had happened.

His absence made her realize that she’d ignored recent events, as though pretending they hadn’t happened would make them go away. She needed to do more to discover why someone wanted her dead. Did Garrick missing their meeting have anything to do with the attempt on her life? Or the body of the man found in the river? She closed her eyes at the thought, her body rigid with fear, unable to remove the image of the man’s slit throat from her mind.

The tap on the cottage door sent her heart pounding. Could it be Garrick? She bolted upright and quickly slipped on her kirtle and slippers as Alec stepped to the door. At her nod, he called out, “Who’s there?”

“Chanse.” The knight’s deep voice sounded urgent even through the thick oak. “I must speak with Lady Sophia.”

A sob caught in her throat. Something terrible had happened to Garrick. She felt certain of it.

“A moment, please,” Sophia called out as she finished dressing.

Alec lifted the heavy wood plank that barred their door as Sophia grabbed her cloak from the peg. She waved at Coira to remain in her pallet. Ilisa had spent the night at St. Mary’s, and Eleanor only grumbled at the noise.

Sophia hurried outside, Alec by her side. “What’s happened?”

Chanse’s handsome face was lined with worry. “Garrick didn’t return to the inn last eve. I was hoping you’d seen him.”

“Nay. He was supposed to meet me at dusk near the potter’s but never came. I was going to find him this morn to see what delayed him.”

Chanse ran his hand through his hair, his restless movements signaling the depth of his concern. “I don’t know where he could be.”

Sophia kept her voice low. “He seemed out of sorts yesterday when I spoke with him. Did he say anything to you?”

He eyed her warily, and she knew he was deciding how much he could tell her.

“I can’t help if I don’t know what is happening,” she said, holding his gaze in an attempt to convince him that he could trust her, even if Garrick hadn’t.

“I am not completely certain either. Therein lies the problem.” He turned away, his gaze sweeping the area as though he might spot Garrick.

“Where is your brother?” Sophia asked.

“Searching the city. We’ve looked everywhere but haven’t found a trace.”

Sophia reviewed her last conversation with Garrick. “Did he say anything to you about Thomas, the man with the hook-shaped scar?”

“You know the man with the scar?” Chanse asked, hope lighting his eyes.

“He’s the butcher, but I don’t understand how he could have anything to do with Garrick missing.”

Chanse stepped closer and lowered his voice. “We believe he was involved in the murder of the man pulled from the river. The one with his throat slit.”

Sophia’s stomach dropped as Alec gasped. “Why would Thomas kill him? He’s a kind man who cares deeply for his family. He’s always been pleasant to us.” She looked at Alec to see if he felt differently. As though the nod from her brother confirming what she said might convince Chanse they had the wrong information.

“Garrick heard him speaking, and ’twas enough to convince him something was amiss. Braden and I need to have a conversation with Thomas.”

“But if he had anything to do with Sir Garrick’s disappearance, he’ll know you suspect him,” Alec whispered. “Wouldn’t it be better to watch him? To see if he does anything unusual? Or leads you to him? I could do it. He wouldn’t suspect me.”

Sophia turned to Alec in alarm. “You will do no such thing. That would be far too dangerous.”

“I inquired about becoming an apprentice for him. He will only think me interested in the business if I spend some time with him at his shop this morn.”

Chanse looked to Sophia. From his expression, he obviously wanted her to agree. What should she do? She wanted to find Garrick as desperately as Chanse did, but she refused to put Alec in danger.

“I’m not certain what Garrick told you, but Thomas is our only hope to find him,” Chanse insisted. “Surely if the boy is careful, no harm will come to him.”

Sophia studied her brother, realizing he was no longer a little boy. He was wise beyond his years after all he’d lived through. She knew him to be a cautious soul, and she was grateful for it. But this was no ordinary task. “How careful would you be?”

“I have no desire to come to harm,” he promised. “But I would like to help find Sir Garrick.”

“I will remain nearby but out of sight,” Chanse offered. “If you have need of me, come out of the shop and signal me. If Thomas leaves, I’ll follow him.”

“Do you promise not to take any unnecessary risks?” Sophia asked her brother.

Alec nodded solemnly.

Chanse turned to Sophia. “You know the fisherman who found that body. Will he be on his boat this morn?”

“Every morn, regardless of the weather. Why?”

Chanse paused and drew a deep breath. “The river seems the most likely place for a body to be dumped. If the same men have Garrick, the river will be the best place to search.”

Sophia’s stomach dropped. She swallowed hard and pushed back her fear. “We are not searching for a body. Garrick is alive, and we will find him.” She’d never been so certain of something as she was this. She couldn’t say how she knew it to be true, but she did.

Chanse nodded but the grim set of his face said otherwise.

“I’ll go speak with the fishermen to ask for their help to search for him.”

Chanse placed a hand on her arm. “Take care. We don’t want word to spread far. That will not aid our cause.”

“Of course. I will only speak with the ones I know I can trust.” She wondered who that was anymore. If Thomas was capable of murder, who else might be involved? Yet they needed help to find Garrick. “I will ask them to be on watch for anything suspicious.”

“I’ll send Braden to your cottage later this morn to exchange what we’ve learned, if anything.” Chanse glanced at Alec. “Are you ready? I believe work at the butcher shop starts early.”

“Please be careful. Both of you,” Sophia said. “No one should take any chances.”

“That includes you,” Alec said with a meaningful look.

Sophia nodded. “We will talk again soon.” Lord how she hoped her words were true, and that they’d soon have good news to share.

She watched Alec and Chanse walk away then hurried toward the city gate, anxious to see if she could catch the fishermen before they took out their boats for the day.

Hold on, Garrick, she urged silently. We’ll soon find you.

 

~*~

 

Garrick came awake slowly, the pounding in his head causing his stomach to heave. That wasn’t the only pain, he realized. His entire body throbbed.

Each breath he drew caused a searing sting in his side. Broken ribs he guessed. His throat burned from the water he’d coughed up earlier. That had only made his side hurt more.

Water gently swayed his body, its frigid temperature numbing his legs and feet. His entire body was cold, but perhaps that was a good thing as it dulled some of the pain.

He moved his fingers, realizing he rested on grass. Apparently he’d managed to make it to the riverbank, despite his attackers’ attempt to drown him.

He still lived. But the day wasn’t yet over. He’d heard of men who’d suffered damage on their inside far worse than what had happened on the outside. And he tasted blood in his mouth. Christ only knew what caused that.

He didn’t bother to open his eyes. He wasn’t sure he could as one was too swollen to do so. His cheek ached and an attempt to move his jaw hurt like hell. As far as he could tell, he hurt everywhere.

His brother had once told him that pain was preferable to the alternative—death. He’d suggested keeping that thought in mind if he needed help to endure suffering. Garrick wasn’t certain which alternative was best at the moment. The pain was nearly unbearable. Only the image of his family, of Sophia, had him fighting off unconsciousness. He’d be damned if he let those men who’d tried to kill him succeed.

He remained still, trying to determine where he was and whether anyone watched. The idea of being forced under the water again made him tremble with fear.

Though he searched his mind, he could remember little after being struck on the head. He’d woken to find Thomas and two other men had dragged him to some dark, empty shop. Three against one had proven poor odds, especially since he’d already been half unconscious from the blow to his head. Had no one at the butcher shop raised concern when they’d hauled him off?

The first few strikes had hurt like hell, but darkness had soon taken him. From the way he ached, he had to assume they hadn’t stopped beating him after he’d passed out.

The sensation of the water coming over his head when they’d dumped his body into the river matched his vision perfectly. When that moment had happened, he’d feared all was lost. That his life was forfeit with no one the wiser. Yet somehow he still lived.

As the darkness beyond his closed eyes gradually lightened, he breathed a shallow sigh of relief. Dawn. Perhaps daylight would bring help. He made another attempt to open his eyes but only one responded. The pounding in his head made it difficult to focus. What part of the river he was on, he could not say. He might be far from Berwick. There was no way to tell from his current view. It was quiet here with only birds chirping to signal life.

Did he dare roll over? Then he scoffed. How could he do that when he hadn’t yet managed to lift his head? Patiently he waited, urging his body to respond, wanting to crawl the rest of the way out of the cold water as he was starting to shiver. His ribs didn’t care for that.

He waited a little longer, trying to gather his resolve to move while he listened for voices but heard no one. Digging deep to find strength, he used his elbows to pull himself up the bank, but the pain proved too much. Luckily his stomach was already empty but the dry heaves set his ribs on fire.

As he rested, he tried again to piece together what little he remembered. Thomas, for certain. But the identity of the other two men remained a mystery. They’d spoken little, not that he could recall their words. Only voices as his head had spun.

He closed his eye again and rested, willing the pain to subside so he could think of what to do.

The sound of lapping water became more pronounced. Oars sliding through the water, he realized. His heart pounded with fear. Had the men returned to make certain they’d finished the deed? Yet he could do nothing but lay there, fear nearly choking him. He knew with certainty he would not survive another assault.

The rhythmic sound drew nearer and his body tensed. Perhaps it wasn’t them. Perhaps it was someone who could help. He thought of Sophia, of Chanse and Braden. Surely they searched for him by now. He couldn’t simply lay here, waiting in fear.

Determination flooded him, and he lifted his head, trying to see who approached but cattails blocked his view. The steady rhythm of oars dipping into water told him whoever it was drew still nearer. He waited until the sound seemed close then called out, “Here.”

His voice did not resemble a human one. More like a growl from some feral animal. His mouth was so dry, his throat so sore. “Here.” His second attempt was only slightly better. The effort it took had him dropping his head to the ground again.

Apparently it worked as voices could now be heard, calling out to halt. A boat came into sight between the cattails. Did they see him? He called out again but was too exhausted to move this time. He could only hope he’d done enough to draw their notice.

“Found him.” Rough hands took hold of his arms, sending sharp pain through his ribs, his limbs, and he sank into darkness once again.

 

~*~

 

Sophia couldn’t wait at home for news any longer. Worry would soon drive her mad. She’d see if any of the fishermen had returned. If not, she’d help search for Garrick by walking along the riverbank. She had to do something. Anything.

She waved at the guard who glared at her in return as this was the third time she’d passed through the gate this morn. But as she’d waited for word, she’d become convinced that Chanse was right. Whoever took Garrick would dump him in the river as they had that other man. Her breath hitched at the thought.

“Going to the river again?” the guard asked, eyes narrowed with suspicion.

No purpose would be served in lying. The man could easily watch where she went. “I’ve a trade to make with the fishermen.”

The man waved her through. She worried she should’ve remained at the cottage in case Alec and Chanse needed her. But nay. She couldn’t simply wait any longer.

As she watched, two boats pulled into the dock where they normally unloaded their catch. One of the men on the boats waved at her.

Sophia ran like the wind toward the dock, hope lending her speed as she leapt over rocks and tufts of grass that threatened to slow her progress. She knew she’d draw attention by doing so but couldn’t help it. As she drew closer, she realized Garrick was not visible in the boat.

“Oh, dear God.” Her heart in her throat, she slowed her headlong rush, searching the boat for a sign of Garrick.

Samuel, the fisherman she’d spoken with this morn, gestured for her to come closer as he glanced about, his brow furrowed with concern. His son sat quietly beside him. “We’ve got him in the bottom of my boat. He’s in bad shape, my lady.”

He held up a fish on a stringer and nodded, gesturing for her to take it. Of course. They needed to act as though nothing untoward had happened. She was only making a deal for his catch of the day.

Sophia reached for the stringer, her gaze searching amidst the nets on the bottom of the boat for Garrick. Samuel’s son drew back a pile of nets, giving her a glimpse of Garrick’s familiar profile. At least she thought it was him. His swollen, scraped features were barely recognizable. He was so still. Too still. “He lives?”

“Aye. But hurt somethin’ terrible. He’ll need to be carried out of the boat.”

Her throat burned with tears before she sternly reprimanded herself. He was alive. Now they need only keep him that way. “I’m sorry to ask more of you, Samuel, but can you take him down the river to the dock near the healer’s cottage? Perhaps you could fish from there for a time until I can bring help?”

“You’re going to keep him at Hilda’s?” His wrinkled face scrunched with concern. “That old woman’s a loon. Are you certain?”

Sophia hesitated for only a moment. She had no choice. Hilda was a good healer even though her words often made no sense. “Aye. We must keep him hidden for a few days while he recovers. ’Twould be too difficult to get him into the city.”

Samuel shook his head. “’Tis going to take longer than a few days, my lady. A few sennights perhaps. He’s in a bad way.”

Her heart squeezed at the idea of the strong, broad-shouldered knight so severely injured. “I’ll meet you by Hilda’s as soon as I have someone to help me get him out of your boat and up to her cottage.”

The old man kicked the nets back over the top of Garrick and nodded. She handed him back the stringer and turned toward the city gate, anxious to find Chanse. She’d nearly made it to the entrance when she heard her name.

“Lady Sophia.”

She turned to see Braden striding toward her, returning from his search of the river. A carter and several others walked along the road toward the gate as well. “I’ve good news,” she called out.

Braden’s eyes widened in alarm as he looked at those nearby. “Oh?”

“I’ve made a deal for the fish. But I’ll need help carrying them.” She stared hard at him, willing him to understand her meaning.

Realization quickly dawned. “The fish. Excellent. Good news indeed.” His eyes were full of questions she didn’t dare answer.

“I can’t carry them to where I want them without assistance.” She raised her brow, hoping he understood that as well.

Braden nodded as he drew near, obviously uncertain but taking the hint. “Shall I fetch Chanse so the two of us can move the fish?”

Sophia stepped to the side of the busy gate entrance, well aware of the guard listening. “That would be most helpful.” She lowered her voice. “Meet me at the dock downriver from the nunnery.”

“Is he—”

“Here now. No lingering about,” the guard called out, interrupting Braden’s question.

“He will be,” she whispered. “Quick as you can.” Then she turned toward the nunnery, relieved that help was on its way. She was certain the guard still watched, so she’d walk to the nunnery before she continued on.

The sooner they got Garrick out of the boat so they could tend his injuries, the better. She stared at the nunnery, wondering if she was making a mistake. Perhaps Garrick would be better off at St. Mary’s.

Nay. There were far too many eyes there. Not all of the sisters had a good heart or good intentions from what Ilisa had said. Some were just as petty as the women who lived in the city. They only wore different clothing.

Hilda was their best hope. She was a strange old lady, of that there was no doubt. But she was an excellent healer. Sophia reminded herself they needed a quiet place where Garrick could remain undiscovered while he healed and received help to do so. Hilda’s was the perfect place.

Now if only she could get the odd old woman to agree to it while Braden found Chanse.