The Dark Knight (13 page)

A small sound of skepticism escaped her lips before she pressed them together.

“You have some doubts about my abilities?”

“I have doubts about anyone’s ability to outwit John,” she said. “There is also the fact that you arrived here scarce prepared to steal me away from Coleway. What if there were no hunt tomorrow? Or, what if I had not overheard my aunt and uncle discussing the plot and refused to help with my escape? Then there is the fact that you are alone, even though my father suspected some sort of trouble.” She shook her head. “I am not brimming with confidence.”

“Put your mind at ease, Avalene. I was sent alone because it would require an army to take you from Coleway
by force, an army that would never be allowed through the gates. Even if I rode with a small troop of men, the odds of us getting away safely without raising an alarm were slim. But one man, alone? Our chances of escape are much better and we can move much less noticeably once we leave the fortress. ’Tis easy enough to track a group of ten or twenty soldiers, or learn news of their passage near villages, but two horses might escape notice.”

“I had not thought of that,” she admitted.

“There is also the element of surprise on our side, since I doubt they view a lone knight as much of a threat. However, I did not arrive here unprepared.”

“You are unprepared right now,” she pointed out, motioning toward the door. “What if soldiers came through that doorway right now to arrest you? What good would you be to me in the dungeons?”

“So you think me defenseless?” His mouth curved into a very predatory sort of smile.

“I think you are unarmed.” Her gaze turned speculative as she eyed the broad set of his shoulders. At least he looked intimidating. “There is a difference between unarmed and defenseless.”

He gave a short laugh. “Rest assured, my lady. I am neither.”

“Mm-hm.” The strange shirt he wore distracted her. On closer inspection, the loose neckline seemed to form a hood of some sort. “ ’Tis of little importance, since it appears John has not yet had a chance to put his plan into action.”

“Ah, but danger could walk through your doorway at any moment.” He made a quick gesture toward the door that was followed almost immediately by a soft
thunk
.

Her startled gaze flew to the doorway where she half expected to find the danger he had so accurately predicted.
Instead a shaft of moonlight revealed the quivering blade of a dagger, its tip embedded in the very center of the wooden door. As she watched, two more daggers joined the first in almost impossibly quick succession. She looked at Sir Percival, then at the daggers, and then back again.

He stood up with leisurely grace and walked toward the door to retrieve the weapons. He fingered one of the blades, testing its edge, and she could have sworn he was looking at her neck.

“How did you do that?”

“ ’Tis a trick I learned as a child.” He inclined his head in a mock bow. “Do not think I am incapable of defending you, Avalene. My talent for escaping dangerous situations is the reason I was chosen for this duty. There can be no guarantees that we will escape Coleway without incident, but our odds improve if I can be certain you will follow my orders without question.”

“I am accustomed to taking orders from no one,” she mused, “save the occasional edict from my aunt or uncle. You are my father’s knight, and therefore you are sworn to serve everyone in my family. I easily outrank you.”

“Have you escaped from many castles?” he asked. “Do you know how to elude mounted search parties? Do you even know which roads lead to Castle Weston?”

She pressed her lips together. “You know the answer to all of your questions.”

“Aye, I do know the answers to those questions,” he said. “What I need to know is if you will concede your rank until you are safely returned to your father. For the duration of this adventure you must treat me as your lord and master. You must not question my decisions or orders, no matter your own feelings or inclinations. You must trust that everything I do is with purpose, even
though you might not be aware of the purpose or how it affects you. Your life and the lives of others will often depend upon your complete cooperation in this matter. Can you abide by those limitations?”

Everything within her rebelled at the idea of voluntarily giving up control of anything. Giving orders was second nature to her. Accepting them without question was not one of her strengths. “Would it matter if I said ‘No’?”

His lips curved upward and he slowly shook his head. “You will make my life considerably easier if you say ‘Aye’ and mean it.”

She caught her lower lip between her teeth and looked over his shoulder to the window behind him. The moon had moved noticeably across the sky since she awoke. As she watched, a stray cloud drifted across its surface and momentarily plunged her chamber into darkness. The castle was filled with sounds during the daytime. Now, all she could hear was Sir Percival’s steady breathing and the uneven beat of her own heart. He was asking her to give over all that she was into his keeping, to trust his orders as much and as quickly as she would trust her own. There was little doubt that he was her best hope, likely her only hope to escape Coleway Castle.

The cloud moved away and she could see his face again. He had not looked away from her and she could see steely determination in his eyes. She knew almost nothing about him, but no matter the odds, there was no doubt in her mind that he would do whatever he felt was necessary to keep her safe. On that deep, elemental level, she already trusted him. Completely.

“Aye, Sir Percival. And I mean it.”

News traveled fast at Coleway Castle. The bailey was unusually crowded for midmorning, and the crowd itself was unusual. It seemed that everyone in any position of leadership or authority who hadn’t ridden off to the hunt had gathered around Avalene. They had lain in wait and accosted her the moment she set foot in the great hall that morning with endless questions about how things should and could be done once she left Coleway for good.

Of course, they thought they had two more days to get their answers. She could not imagine their reaction if she told them her departure was much more imminent, and, in fact, would happen that morning. Already a cry of disagreement had gone up when she declared her intent to join the hunt. The tone of their ceaseless questions had become a contest of shouts as people tried to wrest her attention from whoever held it from one moment to the next.

All the while, Sir Percival stood stoically at her side
with one hand at her elbow to help guide her through the crowd, his expression utterly placid. Although he did not object to the delays in their departure nor did anything to help facilitate it, somehow he managed to get them from the hall and across the bailey toward the gates in little more than a quarter of an hour. Part of her distraction had to do with the pressure of his hand, how his thumb rubbed her arm in a seemingly random yet soothing pattern. She realized that he always managed to touch her more often than anyone else ever had, more than she had allowed any other man to touch her, whether it was his hand on her elbow, or at her waist when the crowd pressed in closer, or even holding her hand, as he had last night.

He had stayed in her chamber to plan their escape until just before dawn when they had both begun to worry that the morning guards would soon be patrolling the passageways. There was no longer any doubt in her mind that he was her best and likeliest means of getting away from Coleway before John could create some trap for them both. They had reviewed the plan over and over until there was no doubt about what part they would each play to avoid the hunting party’s departure, and then to get their own horses prepared to supposedly join the hunting party as quickly after their departure as possible.

She had been surprised at how quickly they formed a conspiratorial bond, at how seamlessly their ideas meshed, and how quickly she considered him a friend as well as her protector. Somehow she had never considered the possibility that they would be friends, never considered that she would be the least bit appealing to him, but he seemed genuinely interested in everything she had to say.

It was a heady feeling to hold the interest of a man so
seemingly perfect as Sir Percival, but this morning all she could think about was their escape. All that stood between them and freedom were about a score of people who seemed intent on driving her mad with their questions.

She rubbed her forehead, trying to forestall a headache, no doubt brought on by the stress and turmoil. They had to leave, but the crowd seemed no thinner. “My lady!” the marshal shouted, as he waved one hand and stood on tiptoes to see over the massive shoulders of the blacksmith. “I must know how many baggage carts you intend to take with you to Wales. If they are to be ready in less than two days, I must start to assemble the train now. I also need to know how many soldiers and servants will accompany you. How many will be on horseback? How many will walk? I must—”

“You will all cease shouting at your lady,” Sir Percival said at last, addressing the group at large. His voice was calm but firm. The crowd instantly fell silent, likely from the shock that he had finally deigned to speak to them, and awe that they were being addressed by a knight who was unknown to them, one who exuded power and authority. She had to admit that his chain-mail armor and surcoat looked impressive. If anyone thought it strange that he would dress in the same garments for a hunt as he had for his journey from Wales, armed to the teeth, they were too intimidated to remark upon it. “You will not begrudge Lady Avalene a few hours to enjoy herself at the hunt. Your questions can wait until her return. Until that time, prove her trust in your abilities and go about your business.”

Not one person argued with him. Oh, a few grumbled, but the men sketched reluctant bows and the women grudgingly curtsied, and then the crowd began to disperse. Without thinking, Avalene started to hold up her
hand to catch Maude’s attention before the cook could lead her away, but Sir Percival’s hand suddenly moved from her elbow to her wrist, stopping the motion. He leaned down so that only she could hear his words.

“Do not even think it.”

“But I—”

“You are leaving for a few hours, remember? There is no call for heartfelt good-byes to set out on a hunt for the day.”

He was right. She had meant to call Maude over to somehow say her farewells without giving away her secret, but Maude was clever enough that she would have guessed something was wrong. How on earth had Percival known her intent?

She watched the people she had grown to love walk away from her as they made their way back to the great hall or to their duties in other parts of the castle. There was little chance that she would ever see them again, or stand here again in the bailey at Coleway with the sun warming her face, surrounded by the everyday sights and smells of the place she called home; the massive gray stone walls, the earthy smell of dirt that had been packed down by hundreds of feet coming and going from the gates, the faint smell of a coal fire from the smithy and the much more immediate smells of the stables that were built along the curtain wall near the gates. Even as she said her silent good-byes to her home, her gaze was drawn to the two horses that were saddled and ready to take them on their journey.

Sir Percival’s big bay horse let out a long, loud whinny and then tossed its head so violently that the stable boy who held the reins was lifted from the ground before the animal once more relinquished control to the boy. Avalene’s horse, a black gelding named Bodkin, responded by shaking his head as if he were competing with the
bay for attention. Bodkin and the bay were of a similar size, both large and muscular, both built to withstand long journeys. They would have little trouble outpacing the palfreys and delicate Arabian mounts that most of the hunting party favored. She was just surprised that the stable master had not questioned her more closely about the reasons she chose Bodkin for a hunt.

“Come, my lady, I will help you mount.” Sir Percival kept a firm grip on her hand as he guided her to the horses. He lifted her easily into the saddle, hardly hesitating when he felt the small rucksack she had hidden beneath her cloak. He did not speak again until he had mounted the bay and they had both turned their horses toward the barbican. He kept his voice low and urgent. “If we are accosted by another horde at the gates, insist that you must join the hunt before it’s over and promise that you will speak to them upon your return to the castle. We are fast running out of time to make good our escape.”

“The captain of the guards already spoke to me this morning,” she said, her voice just as low, “and you were right about his worries. He wanted to be certain I was determined to go on this hunt, and he did not think a woman should be outside the walls with less than three knights or soldiers. I reassured him that you would see me safely to the hunting party and made it clear that I do not take orders from him.”

Percival gave her a hooded look, and then nodded toward the gates in an unspoken order to remain silent on the subject until they were outside the walls. The distance to freedom looked within reach, and yet impossibly far.