Maira stepped into the solar trying to hold back her anger when she saw Ricker lying in the locked cage across the room. “What kind of a man are you that you would put your own son in a cage?” she asked Sir Gregory.

“Come in the room and close the door,” he answered, standing at the foot of the bed.

“But I –”

“Do it!”

Ricker woke up and sat up in the cage and started crying.

“Shut up!” yelled the High Sheriff.

“You are a wretch,” Maira said through gritted teeth, running to Ricker. The High Sheriff grabbed her arm and pulled her to him, staring into her eyes.

“We both know damned well he isn’t mine, don’t we?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Maira looked the other way.

“The question is, how long will it take Jacob to find out and come after his son? And why hasn’t he come for you by now? I think you lied to me when you said you were married to him.”

“I didn’t lie.”

“Hrmph. Well, it doesn’t matter either way. I’m going to have you and then I’m going to have to kill you.”

“Why? You don’t need to kill me.”

“Oh, but how wrong you are.” He reached up and stroked her chin, letting his hand linger and trail down her chest. She stood still, waiting for the opportunity to pull the knife out of her boot.

Then he smashed his lips against hers in a punishing kiss. Her instincts were to fight him, but she held back. She wanted to wait until he removed his weapons first.

“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” She reached out and unbuckled his weapon belt, dropping it to the floor.

“Oooh, I like that. An aggressive woman in the bedchamber.”

“Take off your clothes,” she told him.

“You first.” He reached out and fumbled with the laces on her gown. Wait for it, she told herself. Just hold out. But when he grabbed her breasts she could no longer hold back. She kneed him in the groin and pushed him down on the bed. She reached for his weapons, but he grabbed her and pulled her atop him. Throwing her to her back, his weight on her body kept her from reaching the blade in her boot.

“Get off of me!” she screamed, pounding her fists against his chest. At times like this, she hated being so petite. Without her weapons, she was virtually defenseless.

“Get your damned hands off my wife!” came a low, angry voice from the other side of the room.

“Jacob?” Maira turned her head to see Jacob emerging from the secret door in the wall.

“What the hell!” Sir Gregory jumped off the bed, grabbing his sword and holding it up to Jacob. “A little early aren’t you, Quincey?”

“Apparently a little late, but hopefully still in time. Maira, are you all right?” he asked, his sword clashing with the High Sheriff’s.

“I’m fine, Jacob. And I’m so glad to see you.”

“Why didn’t you go back to Whitehaven like you said you were going to do?” asked Jacob as he fought with Sir Gregory.

“I stayed to help you, Jacob. He means to frame you again by murdering the Bishop of Durham. And Ricker is your son.”

“I know,” said Jacob, managing to nick the High Sheriff on the hand.

“You will never get away with this,” spat Sir Gregory.

“On the contrary, you are the one who won’t get away with your deceitful ways.”

Maira ran over and picked up the High Sheriff’s dagger. “I’m going to help you, Jacob. You’re not alone.”

“Nay!” shouted Jacob. “Take your sword and Ricker and get out of here. Now!” He took her sword from his waist belt and threw it on the bed. She rushed over to retrieve it, putting it in the sheath attached to her back. Then she went over and got Ricker from the cage, holding him to her chest.

“Kill him, Jacob,” she said. “I’ll go out to the courtyard and see how your army is faring.”

“Nay, Maira, there is no army.”

“What did you say?” This startled her to hear this. She was counting on the villagers to help Jacob fight off the High Sheriff’s men. Jacob fought wildly against the High Sheriff as they moved around the room.

“You were right. I was only thinking of myself,” Jacob admitted. “I couldn’t let the villagers lose their lives for me. I let them go.”

“Nay!” shouted Maira, sorry now that she had ever put the idea into his head.

“No army?” The High Sheriff laughed heartily. “This will be easier than I thought.”

“Get the hell out of here and protect my son,” Jacob told her.

“Aye, Jacob. I’ll protect your son with my life.” She ran to the door as the two men continued to fight. But she stopped on the threshold when Jacob called out to her.

“Maira.”

“Aye, Jacob?” Holding Ricker tightly, she looked back over her shoulder at her husband.

“I want you to remember that whatever happens, I love you and always will.”

“I love you, too,” she told him, feeling the emotion welling up in her chest. She meant it. She was sure of it now, and she was sad that she had not told him sooner.

“Dada,” Ricker called out, about breaking Maira’s heart. She rushed out the door, pulling her sword from the sheath to protect Jacob’s son, and didn’t look back.

Jacob fought with the High Sheriff, and might have been able to kill him hadn’t three of his guards run into the room through the open door. One of them was his seedy sidekick, Delbert, holding on to the Bishop of Durham.

“My lord,” said Delbert. “You found Jacob.”

“Aye,” said the High Sheriff. “Get the bishop in here. We’ve got work to do.”

“You’ll not hurt the man,” snapped Jacob.

“Oh, I’m not the one hurting him, but when we are done you will look like the one who killed him.”

Jacob was at a disadvantage. He was wondering how he was going to fight off four men and save the bishop when he heard a sliding noise behind Sir Gregory. Glancing over the man’s shoulder he saw Alf and Tommy in the secret passageway waving their arms. He quickly made his way over to the bishop, grabbed him and pushed him into the passageway, closing the door and standing in front of it with his sword raised high.

“You’ll die for that,” bellowed Delbert, taking a step toward him.

“Wait,” said the High Sheriff. “I have a better idea.”