Seduced (13 page)

Goda and Maud stood on either side of
her.

"The Scot tried to overpower his guard.
Leofwan conked him on the head." Piers shook his head. "The fool
should have known he had not his full strength. Why, Leofwan's arm
is worth two of another man's."

Warin peered from within Raik's room, his
worried gaze scanned Letia from head to toe. Regret clouded his
eyes.

"Do you think he tired of being our guest?"
Warin asked her with a smile. He turned to look at the men around
him. "Do not let it be said we keep anyone past the time they feel
comfortable." He glanced back at the women standing beside Letia.
"Goda, bring his garments. Leofwan will see that the men dress
him."

Goda ran to the sewing room where she had
stored Raik's clothing. Maud followed her.

"My lady wife, return to our bed. It is far
too early for you to awaken." He smiled at Letia and waited until
she disappeared into the dark solar. She left the door open a crack
so she could see and hear what all they did.

Warin spoke to the guards gathered outside
the bedchamber. "We will leave him in the forests between here and
Hunter Castle. In a safe place, of course."

Leofwan nodded in agreement.

Letia heard Goda and Maud talking as they
hurried past. It seemed overlong before four men carrying Raik
passed her door. They grunted at his weight and stopped when they
reached the stairway. It was too winding and they would have to do
as they had when they brought him there the sennight before.

"Watch his head," Warin cautioned. "Lock your
arms and make a seat."

"Do not tug on his arm, fools, else you will
ruin our lady's fine stitching," Maud scolded.

Letia opened the door a bit wider and peered
out. Guards clattered down the stairwell, followed by Goda and
Warin. Two of Seton's biggest warriors had locked their hands and
arms together, carrying Raik, his arms around their necks. His head
bobbed down on his chest. Warin's commander over the warriors
walked behind, supporting Raik's back, making sure he did not fall
either backward or forward.

The men grunted and stumbled, going slowly
down the stairwell leading to the great hall below. Letia knew when
they reached there, for Goda's voice carried up to her as she went
ahead, clearing a wider path through the sleeping people on the
floor.

"Move!"

"Owe! Why did ye kick me? 'Tis no way to ask
yerself into a man's pallet."

"Idiot! Do you not see your baron trying to
make his way through your sleeping hides?"

Their voices faded as they went out into the
bailey. Letia ran over to peer out the front solar window. Torches
flared on either side of the massive doorway. She watched as they
carried Raik down the stone steps.

Storm pawed and sidled, until the men
carrying Raik neared. Seeing his master, the horse stamped all four
feet firmly on the ground and stood patiently with its head
outstretched to snuffle over Raik's slumped body. When a warrior
mounted, the horse started to show his displeasure, until they
hoisted Raik up to the man's waiting arms. Close behind them,
Warin's squire, a quiver of arrows and his bow bouncing against his
back, went up behind Piers.

Men rushed to mount and form a line, then
waited for the portcullis to finish rising and the drawbridge to
thump into place. Soon enough, they were leaving. Soft calls from
the guards atop the wall walks and the loud striking of horses'
hooves on the cobblestones sounded ominous in the heavy darkness of
the night.

After all sight of them was gone, she stared
into the inky night. Cold air stung her face. Gripping her robe
around her shoulders, Letia wiped wet tears from her cheeks. As she
turned, her shoulders slumped and her feet stumbled on her way to
the bed. She crawled between the bed covers and pulled them close
to her face.

Curled in a ball, she clasped her hands over
her mouth to muffle her sobs.

Soon, shamed tears wet her pillow.

Letia huddled in the bed, listening and
fearful. Freki's voice rose again and again. The moisture-laden air
pulsed with it. Such a threatening cry. Long, guttural barks slowly
rose to menacing howls. 'Twas a sound not heard since she had
treated the beast.

"Ahwhoooo!" Freki's fury started when the men
rode with Raik across the drawbridge and onto the forest path. She
raked her fingers through her hair, listening. The dog barked three
times then uttered that beastly, mournful sound. Chill bumps
prickled her arms. Her skin crept with foreboding. Did the beast
warn that Raik would die?

She stared above at the bed's canopy and
clasped the ends of her pillow against her ears. Her swollen
eyelids burned. Squeezing her lids together, she hummed loudly
trying to muffle the frightening sounds. After what seemed near the
whole night, Freki gave one last, resounding bark and quieted.
Warin and the men were clattering over the drawbridge,
returning.

She waited to hear her husband's footsteps
approaching the room. Just this past morn, she had learned he spent
the hours before she returned to their bed above in the chapel, his
knees on the hard marble floor, his back bent in prayer. He could
not bear to be near the room where another man provided the heir he
was unable to give her.

The door swung inward, bringing with it the
manly scent of leather as Warin entered. She scooted to the edge of
the feather mattress and rose to her knees, reaching out to
him.

"Beloved," he whispered as he drew her up to
fold his arms around her. "Are you harmed?"

"Nay. Raik did naught. He tried to pull me to
a shaft of moonlight. I was so afeared he would learn it was me who
deceived him that I screamed."

He sat, moving her to his lap.

"It is done, now. He is gone. You must put
him out of your mind as if he was never here." He rubbed his hand
down her back, soothing her.

"How badly is he injured?" She chewed her
bottom lip and blinked hard to clear her mind of the puzzled look
in Raik's eyes.

"No more than a bad fall from a horse. Much
less than a battle hammer slammed against his head."

"Will he awake?" She shuddered and leaned
back to watch his face. Though she feared Raik, she would not want
him to have sustained a permanent injury because of her.

"He will." He hugged her tight as he rocked
her back and forth. "No doubt his head will pound like battering
rams attacking the barbican gate."

"Saints help us. What if he cannot move?"

"Ah. You worry for naught."

She rested her head against his shoulder and
sighed. "You have done all you can to see to his safety."

"Aye. We chose a path where Ranald's patrols
travel each day. Should he find riding painful, he will wait
quietly until the men come by."

She heaved a sigh of relief. "His cousin will
fix a potion to ease his head." If her teeth worried her lower lip
much longer, it would be raw come the dawn.

Letia leaned back and studied his face in the
dim candlelight. Dark circles under his eyes and lines etched
around his mouth told how tired he was.

"Come, Warin." She crawled off his lap and
patted the bed beside her. "Dawn comes too soon. Let us rest while
we can."

He stood and pinched out the candle on the
bedside table. She heard the rustle of his tunic and breeches as
they fell to the floor. The mattress dipped as he stretched out
beside her. She curled against his side and pulled the covers up to
their chins. His overnight whiskers scraped against her hand when
she patted his cheek. He sighed and kissed her palm, then gripped
her hand against his chest.

Soon, his breathing quieted. His muscles
relaxed. He slept.

She could not sleep, though. Freki had long
since quieted.

Fearful thoughts of a furious Raik returning
to Seton, seeking revenge kept her wide-eyed and restless.

"Shite!"

Pain lashed through Raik's skull making him
wonder if his brain was likely going to explode from it. Squeezing
his eyes shut, he willed the pounding to lessen. His hands explored
around him. He wasn't on a bed. Had he fallen to the floor and
struck his head? He slid his fingers over the ground, patted it
then picked up something. He wasn't on a wooden or stone floor, for
certes. What he had plucked was grass, not rushes.

Sun warmed his lids. He peeked through thick
lashes. Dolt! He groaned and pressed his palms against his temples.
He used his hands to help turn his head away from sunlight that
streamed through a gap in the canopy of leaves overhead.

"Where in Hades...," he muttered.

Sure as Lucifer had moldy horns, he was not
in Seton's keep nor was he within the castle walls.

He cracked his lids wider. So. A forest. A
horse nickered. A wet nose nudged his cheek. Storm. Tied to a tree
just far enough away that it wouldn't step on him but could reach
him with his head outstretched.

What had happened?

He closed his eyes. Tried to piece his memory
together. He went backward to the time someone had tried to
rearrange his head.

The woman. His eyes closed again, pressed
tight.

Someone had come into the room after she
screamed.

Afore that, he had clasped her in his arms
and dragged her from the bed. He had intended to learn who his
supposedly dream lover was in the flesh.

Ah. Earlier than that, he had poured out the
wine. For truth, they had drugged him. Deceived him by dreams. No
doubt, it was the reason for the headaches he awoke with each
morn.

Not today's pain, though.

They had tricked him.

He had tricked them.

Now they had tricked him again.

Did they think he would awake—he felt over
his body, felt his clothing, his weapons—fully clothed and become
so rattled he wouldn't be able to piece it together?

Who was she? Why had de Burgh been so angered
over his tupping a woman in his keep? She had come to him. He had
not hunted her down.

Hunted! Not yet. But he would. His teeth
bared in a snarl.

His groin stirred. Even now, he wanted
her.

Wanted her and needed to learn why she had
come to him in secret.

He started to turn to the left but felt
something wedged against his side. A flask. Hm. Thoughtful of them.
He pulled out the cork and sniffed. Water. He dribbled it between
his lips then splashed his face. Waited a moment more then
carefully rolled to his side and pushed up with his hands.

He sat, cross-legged, his elbows on his
thighs. Held his head, waiting for the dizziness to pass. It seemed
like forever before he was able to stagger to his feet and peer
about.

Jesu! His eyes opened wide. Had he killed the
men sprawled no more than five paces away?

Nay. Their drawn knives had no blood on them.
Arrows protruded from their chests. His gaze searched around him.
He saw nothing that was not ordinary.

Someone had protected him.

He snorted. Nice of them, wasn't it? Lips
pressed together, he tried to mount Storm. Thrice, his leg failed
to raise him in the stirrup. Best he should walk for a while.

After a goodly distance, the muffled sound of
horse's hooves on the forest floor drifted to him. He stopped.
Listened. They were heading away from him. Likely 'twas whoever had
left the water and stood guard over him throughout the night.

He silently thanked the man, or men, for
their kindness.

Finally, he pulled himself atop Storm. His
horse must know how badly his head hurt, for he walked slowly.
Carefully. No matter how slow, he would reach Hunter Castle with
plenty of daylight to spare.

o0o

"Raik! Shite, man! Where ye been?"

Raik clutched Storm's saddlebow when a huge
warrior cuffed his left shoulder. As it was, he near tumbled back
over Storm's haunch. He squinted and saw one of Ranald's men he'd
persuaded to raid Warin's cattle with him. He expected the other
two would be right behind him

"Jesu, Dubne! Ye forget we are not all near
giants like ye."

"Aye, ye are a bit scrawny." He eyed the
bandage gong across Raik's chest where the shirt hung open. "What's
with the lassie-wrap around yer shoulder?"

"Stitches."

"Oh, aye, I guessed such. How came ye by
them? Some English lass bite ye for yer tarse bein'...?" He held up
his hand, his forefinger bent and pointing downward.

Raik snorted. He shifted in his saddle to
watch two other men come crashing through the woods onto the
path.

"Hey, pretty boy, where ye been hidin'?" A
handsome warrior came close, ready to slap Raik aside the head.
Raik winced and held up his arm.

"Keep yer fists to yerself, Fergus."

"Shite, man! Do ye know how long Ranald has
had us searchin' for ye?" He grumbled, though his eyes smiled.

"Aye. Where in Hades have ye been?" The third
man's gaze searched over Raik's face. "Ye disappeared that night
and we couldna find a trace of ye."

"Long tale. Food first and enough ale to
bathe in."

Christ. He stifled a groan. He must look as
bad as he felt, judging from glances passing between the men. But
Ranald's potions would bring him back to normal. Mayhap his brain
would stop banging from one side of his skull to the next like eggs
whipped about afore cooking.

They rode in quiet companionship out of the
forest into the clearing around Hunter Castle. He ground his teeth
together to stifle a groan at the sharp echo of the hooves striking
the cobblestones leading through the long barbican and out into the
bailey.

Stiffening his back, he sat tall in the
saddle as men shouted greetings to him from the wall walkways and
inside the bailey. He hoped he didna have as much trouble getting
off Storm as he had rising into the saddle.

'Twould be disgusting if he stumbled about
like a drunken lout.