The Silken Cord (17 page)

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Authors: Leigh Bale

Tags: #romance, #inspirational, #england, #historical, #wales, #slave, #christian, #castles, #medieval, #william the conqueror

BOOK: The Silken Cord
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His reasoning seemed logical. He indicated
the moat and Ariana stared at the stagnant water, deep enough to
swim. More than likely, it was over her head and she would not be
able to wade through the murky mass.

She thought about Dafydd alone inside the
castle. A child, all alone and undoubtedly frightened. Locking her
jaw, she was determined to go on. A little swim would not stop
her.

Wulfgar stepped into the dormant waters and
reached out a hand to assist Ariana. Securing one end of the rope
around her wrist, she took his offering as she too waded into the
cold depths.

Jenkin brought up the rear, also holding
tight to the rope. Ariana noticed his other hand rested on the hilt
of his knife and she knew he would use it to sever the line if
Wulfgar gave him cause.

“When I give you the signal, you’ll need to
take a deep breath. We’ll be under for a couple of minutes,”
Wulfgar warned.

Ariana nodded and he led them along the
foundation. She inched her way, gasping as the cold wetness soaked
through her woolen clothes. Within moments, they had to tread
water. Wulfgar was tall enough to touch bottom and he guided her
along, his touch comforting.

She kept her mouth closed as the water
slapped her in the face. The cold chilled her to the bone, numbing
her arms and legs. Wulfgar steadied her and she felt secure for the
moment.

Dafydd slept somewhere within the keep.
Ariana’s heart fluttered when she thought of holding him in her
arms again. She would take him home and thwart Edwin’s evil
plan.

Wulfgar paused just below the drawbridge.
Looking up, Ariana saw the small wicket gate, which the garrison
used at night so they would not need to raise the portcullis. The
dark shadows of the castle loomed overhead like hulking beasts and
Ariana trembled with anticipation. There was great danger
ahead.

Wulfgar waved a hand, indicating they should
take a deep breath. Ariana filled her lungs and clenched her teeth.
They went under the water. She kicked her feet as she felt Wulfgar
tug on the rope. She followed him, unable to see anything in the
darkness of the moat. It seemed they were going deeper and deeper
until Ariana touched the muddy bottom with one hand. Then, she felt
a tug on her lifeline and followed Wulfgar under a rocky ledge.

She shivered. Someone’s hand brushed her
leg. Jenkin, close behind her. His presence gave her the courage to
go on.

She needed air and hurried. Her lungs would
burst.

Breathe! Breathe!

Ariana pushed harder, desperate to take a
breath. Still they did not come up for air and panic struck her
with ugly force. She kicked her legs. She must go back.

Pulling on the rope, she tried to turn.
Wulfgar must have sensed her desperation for he jerked her forward.
On they went until Ariana felt lightheaded and filled with doom.
And then, they broke from the water and Ariana gasped and spewed as
she clutched for something to steady her.

She felt Wulfgar’s arms around her, holding
her, pressing her cheek to his chest. She was aware of Jenkin
beside her, breathing deeply as he also filled his lungs with air.
Ariana could hear the echo of their gasps against the walls, but
she could see nothing. Not even her hand in front of her face.

Where were they?

“There, cherie. You did well.” Wulfgar’s
billowy whisper soothed her as he pressed his hands to her head and
brushed the plastered hair back from her dripping face.

“I thought…” she coughed, “I thought you
would….”

“I would never let you drown. I gave you my
word,” Wulfgar admonished, his deep voice soothing her frayed
nerves.

“Yes, I know.”

She felt him kiss her forehead, then her
lips. She clung to him, relieved they were safe for the time being.
His tenderness softened her toward him. The thought struck her that
she should pull away from him, but she was suddenly elated to be
past the water. She clutched his strong arms, taking solace in his
confidence and strength.

Now they must get inside the castle.

“Lead on,” Jenkin ordered gruffly and Ariana
was grateful he couldn’t see how she held on to the Norman.

Wulfgar took her hands and pressed them
against a ledge. She hung on to it, supporting herself.

“Hold here for a moment,” he cautioned
her.

Then, he released her and she heard him
scratching against the wall with his hands. Searching for
something.

His heavy breathing met her ears as he
banged into the wall. She thought he must have kicked against an
obstruction.

Thump!

She winced, fearing detection if the castle
guards heard them.

A sliver of light pierced their cavern.
Layers of slate had been laid over a thin piece of plastered wood
overhead.

“Come.” Wulfgar beckoned to her, then pushed
the slate aside with his hands. He pulled Ariana up with him. Dim
light filtered down from above. He lifted the slate aside and
raised himself so his torso was in a small cell, his long legs
dangling down toward the moat. With the slate in place, the space
was only big enough for a single man to lie down. A small iron
grill was set above them and dim firelight flickered above.

A fetid stench met them and Ariana pinched
her nose, reluctant to take a breath. She clenched her teeth to
keep them from chattering with cold. “Where are we?”

Wulfgar clapped his hand over her mouth and
shook his head, his eyes filled with warning.

He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “A
woman’s high voice carries while pounding would be taken for a
distraught prisoner beating against the stone walls.”

Ah, now she understood.

Ariana tensed, prepared to be surrounded by
guards. The grill gave way and Wulfgar slid it aside as he hefted
himself out of the small hole and into a larger chamber. He pulled
Ariana up beside him and Jenkin followed.

It was then that Ariana realized where they
were. They had come through an oubliette, a cramped
cell-within-a-cell where unwanted prisoners were kept and often
forgotten, left to die of starvation. It was only big enough for a
man to lie down, but not big enough to sit up or stand. Cruel
punishment, indeed. Ariana shuddered when she noticed a skull and
bones lying inside the small enclosure. Wulfgar had knocked them
askew when he’d broken through the false panel.

Repugnance filled her and she looked at him,
her mouth dropping open with outrage.

“I never used it. It is a decoy. I built it
with my own hands and placed the skull and dried bones there to
deter prisoners from opening the grate and discovering the secret
passage.”

Ariana accepted this with some relief. She
squeezed water from her long braid and looked about.

“We are in the dungeon?” Jenkin queried with
interest.

Wulfgar nodded his dripping head.

A cold, dank, and smelly place, the dungeon
was made entirely of stone. A bucket sat in one corner with filthy
straw spread across the cold floor. A single window no bigger than
a man’s face was set high in the far wall. Dim starlight invaded
the darkness. A torch in the hallway glimmered through the bars of
the heavy iron door. As Wulfgar replaced the plastered wood and
iron grill so the secret passageway would not be discovered, Ariana
tried the door.

Locked.

Turning, she quirked her brows at him,
unable to contain an expression of disgust as she whispered
harshly. “This is your secret passageway? We are now precisely
where Edwin wants us, deep in his stronghold, held prisoner in his
dungeon.”

Wulfgar hardened his jaw. “You mean my
dungeon. Cynan will never be Edwin’s as long as I live.”

“Lord Wulfgar?”

They whirled about and stared into a dark
corner of the cell. Ariana gasped when she saw a scrawny man
huddled in a pile of straw, wearing a gray beard, his long hair
filthy and shaggy. Slowly, he stood and braced himself against the
stonewall. He tottered and Ariana thought he might fall over. His
naked arms and torso were emaciated, his cheeks and eyes hollowed
by hunger and privation. Wearing only a covering over his loins,
his legs and feet were bare. Seeing Wulfgar, his sunken eyes stared
at them with a slight twinkle. Strands of straw clung to his hair
and he shivered with the cold.

“Is it really you, my lord?” the man spoke
in a voice that sounded rusty from lack of use.

“Vachel? What have they done to you?”
Wulfgar peered at the wizened old man with disbelief.

“It is you.” The man laughed and promptly
began to cough. “My lord, it’s good to see you alive and well. I
would come nearer, but I fear I’m not well. For a moment, I thought
I must have died. I heard voices and thought I’d lost my mind. I
should’ve known it was you.”

He laughed again, a cackling sound that
grated in Ariana’s ears. Then he shook his head, his eyes filled
with sorrow. “I had hoped we would meet again, but not under these
circumstances, locked in the dungeon of your own keep.”

Wulfgar pulled the rope off his wrist and
approached the prisoner. “Why has Edwin put you in the dungeon?
What offense are you guilty of?”

Shrugging his thin shoulders, Vachel gave an
affectionate smile. “I’m guilty of loving you, my lord. Edwin
offered me freedom if I would forsake you.” Vachel hardened his
jaw, his eyes narrowed with loathing as he clenched his hands. “But
I refused. I’ve served as your steward these many years, and your
father before. I refused to swear fealty to Edwin and he locked me
up. He feeds me only enough to keep me alive. But now I’m ill and
will soon be free of his torment.”

Ariana watched Wulfgar’s expression change.
His eyes crinkled with sadness and his mouth softened as his face
drained of color. Then he clenched his jaw with fury. He looked
around the barren cell, at all the depravation Vachel had suffered.
Stepping nearer, Wulfgar pulled the old man into his arms and
embraced him as gently as a mother would her child. No words were
spoken as Wulfgar closed his eyes, his brow furrowed. Emotion
tightened his features with despair.

Her heart squeezed. Surely Wulfgar could not
be guilty of treason. He was innocent. A traitor would never care
what others suffered out of loyalty to him.

Wulfgar released Vachel and stepped back.
“There’re no other prisoners? I thought Edwin locked up many men
for as many offences.”

Vachel shook his craggy head. “He uses the
dungeon very little, my lord. When someone offends him, he just has
them tortured and killed.”

Ariana shuddered. So many of her people had
suffered such a fate.

“You should not forfeit your life for me,
Vachel,” Wulfgar’s voice sounded hoarse.

Vachel scoffed and smiled at the large man
who towered over him. “My wife brought you into this world. I loved
you every bit as much as your own father. That was the only reason
Edwin didn’t kill me and be done with it. He found it amusing to
lock me in here and starve me. He feared killing me would create a
martyr and the townsfolk would rebel against him. As long as I
live, they do his bidding, but they hate him. Whenever Edwin is
bored, he comes down to taunt me now and then.”

Wulfgar’s head tilted to one side. “Taunt
you?”

The old man did not have time to answer.
Footsteps sounded along the stone corridor outside the door.

“Mind the squint,” Vachel cautioned as he
nodded at the tiny peephole set high up toward the ceiling in the
wall by the door.

Vachel plopped down on his bed of straw and
hung his head in a submissive gesture. Dragging Ariana with him,
Wulfgar flattened against the wall, directly below the squint.
Jenkin also hugged the wall. They all held their breath.

A faint light and shadowy movement crossed
the squint and Ariana knew someone above was peeking inside the
cell, checking on the prisoner. Hopefully, the angle of the squint
wouldn’t allow detection directly beneath where Ariana stood with
Wulfgar and Jenkin.

After several moments, the shadow passed by
as the guard left. Ariana let her breath out with relief.

“How many guards are above?” Wulfgar asked
as he stood over Vachel.

“Perhaps twenty, although there’s only one
lazy guard that keeps watch at night. I can hear his snores all the
way down here. Your pounding may have awakened him. They’re
mercenaries loyal only to coins. Edwin lives well off the fruits of
your labors, my Lord. He squanders much of your wealth, I fear. The
servants in the castle are yet loyal to you. Edwin is cruel and
they hate him. I overhear the guards speaking about it. They await
news that Raulf could find you at the slave auction and bring you
home. You’re their last hope, my Lord. I believe it’s only fear of
King William that keeps Edwin safe. Eventually, someone will murder
him in his sleep.”

“How do you intend to get us out of the
dungeon?” Jenkin asked Wulfgar.

Without response, Wulfgar went to stand
before the solid door. Taking out his knife, he lifted his hands
high above his head where a normal man would not be able to reach,
and methodically began to dig the mortar out from around one smooth
stone in the wall. The mortar turned to powder and dusted over his
hands. It sifted to the floor as he worked, finally freeing the
stone. Wulfgar pulled it free of the wall and reached his long
fingers inside a hidden compartment. When he drew back his hand and
opened it, Ariana caught the glint of a key resting on his
palm.

How shrewd. Wulfgar had planned this so well
and she was amazed at his foresight. Who would ever guess there was
a secret passageway hidden inside the dungeon?

“So close,” Vachel gave a disbelieving
laugh. “Had I known it was there, I would have made good use of
it.”

Wulfgar frowned. “The dungeon was never
meant for such as you, my friend. We’ve come to take control of the
castle and free Prince Dafydd. Do you know where Edwin is keeping
him?”

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