The Taming (Peregrine 1)

,” she announced. “I want someone to clean them. Now.”

Those who were awake snapped to attention at the sight of her ladyship, but no one volunteered for the smelly task.

“I will send someone—” one knight began.

Jeanne saw Rogan in his filthy clothes sitting against a wall. She could feel his eyes on her. “That one will do. Come with me.” She turned, hoping he would follow her. He did, and she waited until they were in the deep shadow of a building. She signaled her two ladies to leave her, then turned to Rogan.

Before he could step back, she reached out and flipped up his eyepatch. “It is you,” she whispered. “I did not believe what Liana told me could be true. I didn’t believe a Peregrine could care whether a woman lived or not.”

Rogan’s hand caught her wrist, crushing it painfully. “Where is she, bitch? If she’s harmed, I’ll do to you what I should have done years ago.”

“Release me or you’ll never see her again.”

Rogan had no choice but to obey her. “What did you do to her to make her tell you of me? I’ll take pleasure in killing you if—”

“You can give me your sweet words later,” Jeanne snapped. “She is hidden now and I mean to get her out, but I need help. She can’t swim, so she has to take a boat across both moats. You must row her. Go now to the wall this side of the northeast tower. There is a rope hanging down. Go across the outer ward to the northwest. There will be another rope down that wall, and a boat will be waiting below. Wait for her in the boat. I will help her to the outer wall, then it’s up to you to get her across the bank and the outer moat.”

“Am I to believe you? Howard’s men will no doubt be waiting for me.”

“My women are going to divert the guards atop the walls. You have to believe me. There is no one else.”

“If you betray me again, I will—”

“Go!” Jeanne commanded. “You are losing precious moments.”

Rogan left her, rushing, but dragging his leg in case anyone watched. He had never felt so naked in his life. His life and Liana’s were in the hands of a lying traitor. Part of him was sure that he was going to reach the northeast tower and find twenty men waiting to murder him. But another part of him knew this was his only chance. He’d been searching in vain for Liana for days and had had no more luck than Howard’s men had.

There were no men waiting at the tower. Instead, in the darkness, a rope hung down from the top of the wall. He threw off his eyepatch, pulled the stuffing that formed a hump from his back, and untied his leg. He took a knife from inside his dirty shirt, put it in his mouth, and began to climb.

He expected men to be waiting for him at the top of the rope, but none were. Silently, he lowered himself down a rope on the other side of the wall.

Once he was on land again, he ran, crouching, across the middle ward. He melted his body into the dark stone of the outer wall as he heard laughter. Two guards walked by, never noticing Rogan a few feet from them or the rope hanging in the shadows down the wall to their right.

Rogan had one more wall to climb before he reached the moat. It took him precious minutes of searching to find the rope and then to start climbing. At the top, he had to pause because he heard a man’s voice followed by a woman’s giggle. Rogan waited until they were gone, then he heaved himself onto the wide, flat parapets.

The next rope was farther down the wall and Rogan climbed down it swiftly. In the shadows, hidden in tall reeds, was a tiny boat with two oars. He got in it, crouched down, and waited. He kept his eyes on the wall above him, watching so hard that he rarely blinked.

It was a long while before he saw the dark shadows of the heads near the top of the wall where the rope hung. He had begun to give up hope. The Howard bitch had indeed left the ropes and the boat, but would she bring Liana?

Rogan held his breath as he watched the two heads. They seemed to be talking. Women! he thought. They must put everything into words. Words were everything to them. They talked when a man tried to bed them. They talked when a man gave them a gift—they wanted him to explain why he gave them a gift. But worst of all, they talked when they were on top of a wall surrounded by armed men.

Then everything happened at once. One of the women’s hands went into the air as if she meant to strike the other one. Rogan was on his feet and running toward the wall. There was a woman’s cry above his head, then the sound of men running along the wall. Rogan had his hands on the rope, ready to climb up, when Jeanne shouted down at him.

“No!” she called to Rogan. “Save yourself. Liana is dead. You cannot save her.”

Rogan started up the rope and was six feet off the ground when it fell away and he hit the earth. Someone above had chopped the rope off.

“Go, you fool,” he heard Jeanne scream, then her voice was muffled as if someone had put a hand over her mouth.

Rogan didn’t give himself time to think, for arrows were beginning to rain down on him. He ran for the boat, but two arrows had hit it and it was sinking. He plunged into the cold water of the moat and began to swim, arrows whizzing past his head.

He reached the bank, then ran, crouching, across the northern bank, just outside the walls of the western bailey. Sleepy guards, hearing the commotion across the moat, were coming awake and looking down the walls at the steep bit of land between the inner and outer moats. When they saw movement, they shot arrows.

Rogan reached the outer moat just as an arrow scraped across his back, searing his skin. He jumped and began to swim northward, away from the walls but into the north lake, which fed the two moats. He was a strong swimmer, but he was losing blood. When he reached the shore, he had to pull himself onto the land, where he lay in the reeds for a moment, coughing water from his lungs, his sides heaving with exertion, blood covering his back.

When at last he could walk, he made for the forest, hearing the hooves of Howard’s men on horses not far behind him. He and Howard’s men played cat-and-mouse the rest of the night and most of the next day as Rogan hid from them, then they circled back and he hid again.

At dusk he jumped on a Howard knight, slit his throat, and stole his horse. The men chased him, but Rogan whipped the horse until it bled and he outran them. At dawn the horse stopped, refusing to go further. He dismounted and began to walk.