CHAPTER TWENTY

 

“Where could she be?” Garrick paced the small alcove of the church, his monk’s robe fluttering about his feet.

“I could visit St. Mary’s to ask if she returned there for some reason,” Braden offered.

“I can pass by the butcher’s shop to see if she is speaking with Thomas,” Chanse said.

Garrick didn’t believe she was in either place but shuddered at the thought of Sophia in Thomas’s hands. The urgency to find her made him want to run through the city, calling her name. Yet that would do no good. The one advantage he held was that whoever wanted him dead thought they’d succeeded. And there was a chance that same person had Sophia.

Only one man came to mind—Sir Gilbert. Could he have discovered Garrick’s true mission here and ordered Thomas to kill him? If Iagan’s purpose had been discovered, it was likely Garrick’s had as well, hence the attempt to kill him.

But what did all that have to do with Ilisa and Sophia? Were their disappearances related to the attack on Sophia instead of Garrick’s mission? Could Sir Gilbert be behind that as well?

Doubt niggled at the back of Garrick’s mind but he wasn’t certain why. No answer came forth. Nor did a vision. Why had he ever questioned the advantage second sight gave him? Now that it was gone, he felt less than whole, as though one of his senses had been taken away.

He shook his head. Lamenting his second sight served no purpose. He could only work with what he had. Unfortunately, that was very little.

The one thing he was certain of was that Sophia was his, and he needed to find her. All that had stood between them earlier no longer mattered. He loved her with every bone in his body, and he would find a way to convince her their love was a gift and should not be set aside until a more convenient time arrived.

But first he had to find her.

If Gilbert held Sophia, he surely would not harm her. Not when he wanted to marry her. Perhaps this was some crazed way to force her to agree to his proposal. At any rate, if Gilbert had Sophia or Ilisa, hopefully neither were in immediate danger. That gave them time to formulate a plan for their rescue.

“Alec is waiting at the cottage in case Sophia or Ilisa return there,” Chanse said. “If they do, he’ll advise us.”

“I don’t think we’ll find Sophia at the nunnery or the butcher’s, but let us search those places anyway, along with another pass through the market square.” Garrick turned to face his cousins, grateful for their assistance. “I suppose I have no choice but to wait here for now. Return as quickly as you can.” He paused, his mind swirling. “Chanse, can you stop by Sophia’s cottage on your way back and bring Alec with you? If neither of you have found her or Ilisa, we’ll need his assistance for the next part of our plan.”

“What is that?” Chanse asked.

Garrick walked to the window where Berwick Castle was just visible on the rise above the city. “We’re going to storm the keep.”

Braden and Chanse glanced at each other then at Garrick, their alarm obvious. “You believe Sir Gilbert is holding Sophia and Ilisa?”

“He’s the most likely suspect.”

“Did you have a vision?” Braden asked, his hopefulness striking Garrick.

“I fear I may have lost my second sight,” he said with regret, tapping the side of his head. “I haven’t had one since that blow to my skull.”

Braden’s obvious disappointment made Garrick feel all the worse. Doubt plagued him once again, yet he could only move forward with the information he had, using his logic and instincts. Those led him to the only likely person he knew of, which brought him back to his strategy.

“Even without the aid of a vision, I believe this is the best course of action based on what we know thus far.”

Chanse turned away only to pivot back. “While I appreciate your...instincts, there is an entire garrison between us and the keep. How do you intend to breach the walls?”

“With Alec’s help, we’re going under them.” The plan felt right to him. And for the moment, that would have to be enough.

 

~*~

 

Sophia strode through the inner bailey toward the keep, her former home. ’Twas odd, but she no longer felt any longing for her previous life here. No pang of regret tugged at her for what she’d once had. The past two years had been far from easy, but she was a different person now. A stronger one, she liked to think. And, at the moment, a more determined one.

The blacksmith stepped out of the smithy and wiped the sweat from his brow as he looked about. He bowed his head in greeting to her, and she gave him a nod in return, but didn’t draw near to speak with him. She had no desire to renew acquaintances here. A far more important mission occupied her thoughts—finding her sister.

Assuming she was right and Gilbert had Ilisa, Sophia feared she’d be forced to marry him in order to free Ilisa and keep her family safe.

The idea caused a hot ball of fear to settle in the pit of her stomach. William would be furious if he returned to Berwick and found her married to Gilbert. Yet what choice did she have? The safety of her family depended on her. And she felt powerless. The only thing she had to bargain with in this case was herself.

This would be the biggest negotiation she’d ever attempted. Other than lust, Gilbert had no feelings for her. He only wanted to make her brother pay for taking the lady he’d thought his. He yearned for revenge far more than he yearned for her.

Her thoughts moved to Garrick. Though he’d be angry she hadn’t gone to him for help, she didn’t regret her decision. He’d already suffered far too much, nearly lost his life. And that might’ve been because of her. How could she possibly ask him to confront Gilbert?

Nay, she couldn’t.

She’d been so tempted by his proposal. A life with him would be more than she’d ever dreamed of. But no matter how she looked at it, she didn’t see how they could be together. He’d be risking his life if he stayed, and she couldn’t leave her family. Not while William was gone.

That left her here. With Gilbert. She blinked away her tears. She had to find a way to resolve this situation on her own. Just as she had the past two years.

Loneliness speared through her, sharper and stronger than ever before. After feeling the power of love with Garrick, being alone was even harder to bear. But being with Gilbert would be far worse. She swallowed the lump in her throat as she hurried up the steps to the keep, focusing once again on Ilisa. She wasn’t leaving here without her, no matter what it took.

Her arrival had been announced when she’d entered the castle, and a servant waited for her at the top of the stairs. As he bowed, she said, “I’m here to see Sir Gilbert.”

“Of course.” He bid her to wait inside the door as he hurried into the great hall.

She hoped Gilbert would be reasonable. If only there was some way to gain her sister’s freedom other than sacrificing her own.

But she couldn’t think of any. Everyone wanted something. Hadn’t she learned that some time ago? Unfortunately, Gilbert wanted her.

She lifted her chin, refusing to allow Gilbert the upper hand. Especially if he had Ilisa. With a deep breath to brace herself, she strode into the great hall.

 

~*~

 

Garrick breathed a sigh of relief as Chanse entered the church alcove, carrying the rushlights Garrick had asked him to procure. Alec was directly behind him, his expression solemn, his lips pinched with worry.

“Sophia said if she was delayed, we should continue searching for Ilisa,” Alec said.

“Did she say anything else?” Garrick asked. Though he wanted to curse at Sophia’s secrecy, he didn’t want to upset Alec. Why couldn’t she have kept with the plan? Probably because he hadn’t had much of one at the time. No wonder she’d had no faith in his ability to find her sister.

“Only that we shouldn’t worry.”

Garrick looked away until he could contain his frustration. “We will find them both. Have no doubt.”

The boy nodded, his concern seeming to ease as he studied Garrick. “I thought you were injured.”

“Luckily, I have recovered quickly.” His stamina had yet to return in full, but he felt few lingering effects from his injuries. He turned to Chanse. “You found nothing at your other stop?” He didn’t want to alarm Alec with details on Thomas.

“Nay. He wasn’t there.”

While Garrick hadn’t expected Chanse to find Sophia at the butcher’s, he was concerned that Thomas hadn’t been there either. There was no time to waste; they needed to get into the keep as quickly as possible. God only knew what Gilbert intended.

“Any sign of Braden?” Garrick asked.

“Nay. Surely he’ll arrive any moment.” Chanse glanced out the door but shook his head as he turned back to Garrick.

Garrick rested a hand on Alec’s shoulder. “I have to wonder if Sir Gilbert might be behind your sisters’ disappearances.”

Alec nodded. “I wondered that as well.”

“Can you show us the entrance to the tunnel that leads to the keep?”

The boy frowned. “How do you know of the tunnel?”

“Sophia mentioned it when she told me how you escaped during the siege.”

“I can try. I think I remember.” His worry increased twofold based on the frantic look in his eyes. “But I haven’t returned to it since we left. I’m not certain.”

Garrick patted his shoulder. “Its whereabouts will return to you as we draw near. I have no doubt.” At least none that he wanted to share with the boy.

“I wonder what is keeping Braden,” Chanse said.

“We cannot wait any longer.” The urgency filling Garrick worsened each moment. He wanted to reach Sophia as quickly as possible. If she was even at the keep. If she wasn’t— He shook his head. He’d worried about that outcome if it came to pass.

They filed out of the church onto the side street near the market square. Garrick kept his hood low over his head, walking with his staff at a sedate pace several steps behind Chanse and Alec as though he wasn’t with them.

Chanse placed a hand on Alec’s arm, no doubt advising the boy to slow down. They didn’t want to draw attention by hurrying through the streets.

The steady clop of a horse’s hooves on the cobbles behind him had Garrick looking back. Relief filled him at the sight of Braden riding by. His cousin gave him a nod then continued on past Chanse and Alec toward the far end of the street that led to the keep. He dismounted and tethered his horse near a grassy area.

While Garrick was relieved Braden had caught up with them, he had to assume he’d discovered nothing at the nunnery. He continued his slow pace up the street, still well behind the others. He nodded in a friendly manner to those who passed by, hoping no one else wanted a blessing.

At the end of the street, a low rise of tall grass led to a thick copse of trees and bushes before a much steeper rise led to the castle. The castle wall, originally built of wood, was slowly being replaced with stone. Even now, men were working on it in the distance. Garrick was pleased to see that the wooden wall above them was deserted.

Sir Gilbert obviously didn’t care for the idea of being at the mercy of fire if another siege occurred. Still, replacing the wooden walls with stone was a long, arduous process that would take many years and much money. Stone masons had to be hired to see to the work, as well as laborers. Garrick wondered if they were able to cut the stone nearby or if it had to be hauled in, which added significantly to the time and cost involved.

He glanced at his companions only to realize they’d disappeared into the foliage ahead. Garrick took a casual look around but no one paid them any mind. He made his way along the path barely visible in the grass and passed into the thick brush, reaching the others.

Alec glanced around then shook his head. “It looks so different. I’m not sure if this is the place.”

“Close your eyes and try to picture it,” Braden suggested, keeping his voice low. “That always helps bring a memory clearer.”

Garrick raised a brow at his cousin, hoping he understood his silent question.

Braden shook his head, confirming he’d discovered nothing new at the nunnery.

Alec opened his eyes and looked about again, scratching his temple. “I’m just not certain.”

“Let us walk through and see if anything strikes you,” Garrick said. “I’m sure the trees and bushes have grown quite a bit since you were last here.”

Alec paused again and turned in the opposite direction to face the city, which was barely visible through the foliage. For a moment, Garrick feared he was giving up then realized the boy was examining the view. “When we came out, the city was still burning.”

Garrick waited, allowing Alec to sift through his memories.

“I think ’tis farther north, closer to the wall.” Though Alec sounded less than confident at his words, Garrick nodded, doing his best to keep his patience. Rattling the boy would not aid his memory.

All four of them searched the foliage as they made their way through the trees, moving toward the wall. In truth, the brush was so thick, the door could’ve been within an arm’s reach and they wouldn’t notice.

Alec halted abruptly, turning around. “This seems right.” He glanced again toward the city, peering between branches to check his position. “It should be near here. A small, wooden door, about half the size of a man. We had to bend in order to fit through it.”

Garrick directed his cousins to spread out so they might better search for the entrance.

They looked for a time but found nothing. Alec was getting more anxious as time passed, and Garrick knew that would not aid their cause. Memories were more likely to be clear if he remained calm.

“Let us sit for a moment,” Garrick said with a smile though his heart raced at the delay.

Chanse stared at him as though he’d gone daft, but did as he suggested all the same.

Alec sat as well, but his mind was obviously focused on finding the door. His gaze darted about the bushes, his frustration mounting based on the furrow between his brows.

“Had you lived in the keep all your life prior to the siege?” Garrick asked, wanting to take the boy’s thoughts off his goal for a moment.

“Nay, we moved there when I was quite young and William took the position of governor. I was born south of here at one of his other holdings.”

“So you’re a fellow Englishman?” Chanse asked with a smile.

The boy looked horrified at the thought. “I am a Scots through and through.”

“No offense intended.” Chanse held up his hand, palm out. “Though I must say there’s nothing wrong with being an Englishman in my opinion.”

“My apologies,” Alec said with a rueful smile. “’Tis just that we were accused of aiding King Edward during the siege as some consider us more English than Scottish.”

“Your brother has holdings in both countries?”

“Aye. As does Sir Gilbert, yet no one accused him of aiding the king.” Alec glanced away as though embarrassed by his outburst only to have his gaze fall to his feet. He leaned forward to brush off a rock partially buried in the ground then stood. “This is it.”

He scrambled through a bush off to the side then popped back out again, a grin lighting his face. “I found it! I remembered seeing that rock when we left the tunnel. I can’t pry the door open though.”

“Excellent work, Alec.” Garrick smiled at the boy’s enthusiasm. “Braden will get it open.”

“Lead the way,” Braden agreed.

Alec showed him the location then backed out of his way. He turned to Garrick. “How did you know that would happen?”

“What?” Garrick asked.

“That I’d find it if I thought about something else for a time?”

Garrick shrugged as he met Chanse’s curious look. “It often works for me. Seems as if part of my mind is still sorting through the problem while I’m thinking about other things.”

“Well done,” Chanse said with a nod at Garrick. “’Tis been a busy day for you,” he added with his customary grin. “Blessing babes and helping to find hidden doors.”

Alec looked up at Garrick in question. “Blessing babes?” Then his gaze caught on the monk’s robes Garrick still wore. “That’s a fine one,” he said with a smirk.

“We’re going to need those rushlights,” Braden called out from the depths of the bush.

Chanse removed the cloth bag hanging from his shoulder then reached for a small one tied to his belt and set both on the ground. He unrolled the larger bag, revealing rushes soaked in fat and bound tightly. Out of the smaller one, he retrieved a tinder box, which held his fire steel and a bit of char cloth. He eyed the rushlights and glanced about. “We’ll wait to light them until we’re in the tunnel. No need to set the bushes on fire.”

Within a few moments, all of them had eased through the small door and sat in the entrance of the narrow tunnel. They left the door ajar while Chanse made quick work of lighting the rushes.

“Tell me it widens,” Braden said to Alec. “We don’t have to crawl on our hands and knees the entire way, do we?”

“It grows larger just ahead,” Alec assured him.

“Where does the tunnel come out in the keep?” Garrick asked.

“Between the kitchen and the great hall. There’s another entrance on the third level near the bed chambers.”

Garrick took one of the torches from Chanse and led the way. A short distance later, the tunnel grew in size, allowing them to walk upright. Cobwebs clung to the rough rock walls.

“It doesn’t appear as if anyone has passed this way in some time.” Garrick kept his voice low as it echoed.

“I’m not certain Sir Gilbert realizes it’s here,” Alec said. “We always kept it a secret. Only the family and one or two of the servants knew of it.”

“With luck, we’ll give Gilbert a bit of a surprise.” Garrick smiled at the thought.