Choose the Sky: A Medieval Romance (Swordcross Knights Book 2) (35 page)

Tav shook his head. “Let’s not pack yet. She may be more forgiving than you think. Just give her a bit of time. Forgiveness can’t be demanded. It must be offered.”

Luc didn’t feel particularly reassured by that.

Upon returning to Trumwell Castle, Luc saw Joscelin emerge from the keep, instantly recognizable in his somber black clothing.

“So you’ve found the man you’ve been seeking,” Joscelin said, looking at Haldan curiously.

Luc nodded. “He was foolish enough to linger in one place for too long, so we were able to get him.”

“Has he said anything of interest?”

“He refuses to say a word,” said Luc. “Though in truth, we haven’t begun to question him yet. That task will fall to Drugo, and I expect he’s quite skilled at getting men to talk.” Luc also suspected Drugo’s methods wouldn’t be something the gentle priest would be comfortable viewing. “Haldan will be confined in the cell by the east wall. A day or two of solitude may impress upon him how his circumstances have changed.”

By that time, Octavian and Drugo hauled their prisoner toward the cell. As they passed by the steps, Haldan’s eyes lit on Joscelin.

“A priest!” he said. “You can’t deny me a priest! I wish to give confession in a church!”

Drugo cuffed him on the side of the head. “Do you think I’m stupid? You’d never respect the sanctity of a church for confession. I’ve never heard such an obvious attempt to escape. The only confession you’ll give is to me, while you’re in chains in a cell.”

Haldan spat on the ground, but looked up at Joscelin. “Please! You’ve got to help me!”

Joscelin held up one hand. “I agree you need help, so I’ll pray for the release of your soul from whatever torment it will surely give you when you are alone tonight. I counsel you to keep silence, think on your sins, and pray for our Lord to ransom your soul.”

Luc expected Haldan to howl an insult against the church, but he merely stared at Joscelin, breathing hard after his struggles to get free of Drugo.

“Be at peace,” Joscelin said, “and have faith.”

Haldan shook his head, muttering. But he gave up his constant pulling at his ropes. Drugo and Octavian hauled him off to the cell.

“Perhaps you’d be more effective than Drugo at getting him to talk,” Luc said.

“I wish it were so,” Joscelin said, “but I would hardly know what to ask. This matter of power and politics is beyond me. In any case, I will not be here. I am called away to Gloucester to speak with the bishop there, and was in fact just about to leave when I saw you return. I expect to be away one or two nights.”

“Take some men-at-arms with you,” Luc said. “Even for such a short journey.”

Joscelin smiled. “My cassock and cross are all the armor I need. I will place myself under the protection of God.”

Luc had seen many men die while invoking the protection of God, but he didn’t particularly want to raise the topic at the moment. He wanted to see Mina.

He asked Joscelin where she was.

“I believe she’s gone hunting today. I heard her voice in the courtyard quite early this morning.”

Luc sighed. Mina could be anywhere within several miles of the castle, and it would be useless to try to find her. He’d wait till supper to share the news that Haldan had been captured.

At the hour for supper, Luc entered the great hall, but didn’t see Mina sitting at the table. That was odd. No matter how angry she was at him, she always observed the courtesies of being a hostess.

He turned to Ancel, who was sitting further down.

“When did my wife come back?” Lucy asked

The steward blinked owlishly, as if he’d been daydreaming. “My lord?”

“My wife,” he said with exaggerated patience. “The lady Domina. I heard she was going hunting today, but it is now dark, and therefore she can no longer be hunting. So she must be here.”

“I…I don’t know, my lord. I haven’t seen her.”

“Send someone to fetch her then.”

“Yes, my lord.” The steward bowed and left.

Luc waited. Drugo, being the terrible conversationalist that he was, said nothing.

“She’s doing this deliberately,” Luc growled. He remembered the first week he came to Trumwell, when Domina had been the proud, icy chatelaine of the castle, barely deigning to speak to her unwelcome guests any more than courtesy demanded. Was this his future? Domina once again cold and untouchable? Would she ever forgive him?

The door opened.

“Finally,” Luc snapped.

But it was Ancel who stepped through. “My lord, I regret very much to report…”

“She’d going to make me come to her?” He stood. “Then I shall. If she thinks that she can hold court in her solar and I won’t come up…”

“My lord, she’s not in her solar,” the steward said desperately.

“Where is she?”

“I don’t know.”

“What?” Luc paused at last, staring at the steward.

The older man looked more than nervous. He looked…distraught. “I was not privy to this, my lord. I knew nothing of her intentions.”

“Where is she?” Luc repeated.

“Apparently, she left the castle this morning, and has not returned. She took her hawk, and three men-at-arms. But she also took Constance. Constance does not ever attend my lady while hunting.”

“What are you saying?”

“My lady has left the castle.” Ancel’s voice dropped to a mumble. “I regret to say that she did not confide in me. I have no idea where she may have gone.”

Luc never knew what it
meant to lose one’s mind until then. He couldn’t hold any thought in his head long enough to do something useful with it. Every other second, he saw Mina’s face and had to know where she was.

No one seemed to know.

Luc lost a day to the frantic search around the castle and village, just in case Domina and her group had been hunting. Though that was madness, because what could have possibly happened that would detain the whole party? Someone would have returned to Trumwell to ask for help.

So she really was gone.

Octavian’s steady presence was the only thing keeping him remotely sane. Whatever Tav’s opinion on the way Luc concealed the whole truth from Mina—and it was clear that Tav thought him an idiot for it—he never spoke a word of censure after Mina was discovered missing. He could see how truly distraught Luc was.

The other knight translated Luc’s incoherent grunts into intelligible orders. He was the one who directed riders to the most likely places, and told them what to inquire after and how to report back. Every neighboring manor was visited, every local village with a market was ridden through.

Drugo suggested London, perhaps thinking Domina would attempt to approach the king himself to protest her innocence. A man from the garrison volunteered to be a rider and was dispatched to the city, though it would take a week to hear anything back, positive or negative.

In the chaos, Haldan was ignored by Luc and the others. A guard always stood outside of the cell, and meals were brought morning and evening. No one attempted to interrogate him—Domina’s disappearance was far more urgent. Even Drugo offered his assistance, though his reasons for wanting her back diverged from Luc’s rather seriously.

Luc woke the next morning in a more foul mood than ever. He met with Octavian and Drugo in the great hall, and from their expressions, he knew that nothing had changed in the search for Mina.

“I’m going to talk to Haldan,” Luc announced after the men broke their fast. “We’ve let him stew for a day and a night, so let’s see if the fight’s gone out of him. I need a distraction.”

Octavian stood. “I’ll come with you.”

Luc grinned without mirth. He knew exactly what Octavian was thinking—Haldan wasn’t safe around Luc. He was right. That false knight deserved to die for what he tried to do to Mina, for what he tried to do to Trumwell. Every breath he took fouled the air of the world, and Luc wanted to purify the air.

However, Haldan was also the only man they knew of who could reveal the names of the real conspirators against the king. Since Haldan felt no loyalty to anyone but himself, it was very likely that he’d talk…given the right incentive.

“What do you plan to say?” Octavian asked curiously.

“He ought to leave the questioning to me.” Drugo appeared in the hallway. “I know how to get answers.”

Luc didn’t doubt it, but he was loathe to give Haldan up to the king’s spymaster. “You may ask the questions, but I want to be there in case violence breaks out.”

“You plan on starting a fight?” Tav asked.

“Of course not. But if Haldan happens to start anything, I will finish it.”

The trio proceeded to the building on the side of the courtyard where Haldan was imprisoned. Two members of the garrison stood guard, though the walls of the little building were thick enough to prevent even a sound from getting through it. The window was too small for Haldan to get through, even if there was no grate over it. The single door to the cell was so solid that the iron bosses studding its surface seemed entirely unnecessary.

Luc himself had kept the key for the door. Drugo had grumbled about it, but Luc was the lord of the castle, after all. Now he selected the proper key and slid it in the lock. “Haldan?” he called.

There was no answer. Luc glanced at Tav, who drew his sword. Drugo drew his own poniard. If Haldan thought to trick them by lurking in a corner or hoping to overpower the three of them, he was dumber than Luc thought.

He turned the key and pulled the heavy door toward him. The opening of the cell was dark and silent.

“Light,” Luc called. One the guards pulled a torch off the wall and thrust it into Luc’s hand.

Luc strode into the cell. “Haldan, what are you playing…” He stopped on seeing the sprawled out form of the soldier. “Tav! Drugo! Get in here!”

Tav was already there, falling to his knees to reach for the prone man’s arm. “Flesh is cold,” he pronounced. He felt for a pulse, watched for sign of breath, but then sighed. “Dead. And has been for a while. He must have killed himself sometime in the night.”

Luc cursed in anger. “How? He was locked in, with no weapons!”

Drugo cursed as well, sheathing his poniard. “You kept the key, Luc. Are you sure you didn’t stop by earlier to exact some revenge?”

“Not
before
getting the name I want to know,” Luc burst out. “God’s wounds! Even dead, this man manages to be insolent.”

“If he killed himself, then how did he manage it?” Drugo asked. “Anything that could have served as a weapon was taken from him.”

“Search the cell. He must have had a blade hidden on him somehow.”

Drugo felt around the edges of the body. “Ah,” he grunted. “Here.” He pulled out a small but wickedly sharp blade.

Luc took it from Drugo’s outstretched hand and examined it with a frown. “I barely knew the man, but I find it difficult to believe he would take his own life.”

“It’s a sin,” Tav said.

“He sinned regularly,” Luc argued. “But he wanted to live.”

“What are you thinking?”

“He had some help. At minimum, he got this blade after he was imprisoned. He was searched thoroughly.”

“An accomplice?” Tav suggested. “Someone who remained here in the castle after Haldan fled. Perhaps the garrison should be questioned.”

“Am I to doubt every man who’s fought for Trumwell since Haldan left?” Luc asked sourly.

Tav said, “There is also the possibility that it was not a friend to Haldan, but an enemy. Someone who wanted him dead badly enough that they would kill him even while he was under lock and key with little hope of release.”

“Who? Someone else Haldan wronged?”

“He tried to force himself on the lady of the castle,” Tav pointed out, “so it’s quite possible he tried to do the same thing to another woman.”

“Someone avenged her,” Drugo said musingly.

“Or she took matters into her own hands. The women of Trumwell are most independent,” Luc added in a bitter tone.

* * * *

All Luc’s efforts to find out where Mina had gone were fruitless. He’d sent riders out along every major road to seek word of her. Nothing.

Joscelin rode into the courtyard that afternoon, returned from his short journey. Luc braced himself for what he had to tell the young man. In fact, it seemed impossible that so much had changed in the short time Joscelin was gone.

“Did you take care of your business?” Luc asked, noticing a rather satisfied look on the younger man’s face. Luc reached to hold the reins of the horse.

“Indeed, though the road to Hereford is nothing but mud at the moment,” Joscelin said as he dismounted.

Luc followed the movement with his eyes. “I thought you said you went to Gloucester? Isn’t that where the bishop was?”

“Ah, yes,” Joscelin said quickly. “I misspoke. I’m tired from travel. Forgive me.” Then Joscelin asked, “How do you fare, my lord?”

“Not well,” Luc said. “Come inside with me.”

Joscelin’s face went white when he heard Mina was missing. “Mother of God,” he whispered. “Where can she have gone?”

“Believe me,” Luc said. “That’s exactly what we’re trying to discover.”

Joscelin sat down heavily on a bench, looking stunned. “This is not like Mina. Not at all.”