She heard Ranulf’s violent oath, but never paused, not even daring to look over her shoulder to see if he followed.
The stallion fought her, unaccustomed to carrying so light a weight, but desperation lent her strength. She knew she could not hope to escape Ranulf’s retribution for long, yet her mad action would serve to distract him and perhaps buy her some time. If she absconded with his horse and left him stranded far from the castle, he would be so furious at her that he might not investigate the forest. And on foot he could not search the wood as easily. She prayed to God that the delay would somehow give her the chance to warn the inhabitants to flee.
She galloped back to Claredon as if a thousand devils were on her heels, and clattered across the drawbridge, alarming the guards at the gates and causing them to blare their horns.
When she came to a plunging halt in the inner bailey, a dozen men immediately surrounded her, all demanding answers at once.
“Were you attacked?”
“The lord? What of him?”
“How many assailants?”
“Is he still where we left him with you, milady?”
Ariane dared not admit to his knights and men-at-arms that she had stolen Ranulf’s warhorse. If she made him a laughingstock, he would be all the more livid. But she had to give some explanation for her frantic arrival and dishevelled appearance.
“No, no . . . nothing like that,” she murmured breathlessly. “ ’Twas an accident, merely. I fell and caught my tunic on a branch. . . . Lord Ranulf sent me back to change. He will be along presently.”
Disbelief warred on their faces, but they did not challenge her account, except to ask if their lord was on foot.
“Yes,” she answered reluctantly. “Someone should take him his mount.”
Several of the men stepped forward at once.
Ariane did not wait for any further questions, but accepted aid in dismounting from the huge destrier. With dread curling her stomach like acid, she went in search of Gilbert. She desperately hoped her half-brother could be trusted to do her bidding without question and carry a warning for her. She would make him swear as she had sworn. . . .
To her dismay, Gilbert was nowhere to be found. She searched the keep from top to bottom, but could find nary a sign of him. Told that he might be with the steward tallying rents, she ran back down to the bailey to search the storerooms, the chapel, the stables, the smithy, anywhere Gilbert might logically be found.
She had given up hope and was about to return to the tower and beg one of her trusted ladies to carry the warning for her, when she saw Payn FitzOsbern striding across the yard toward her. Ariane came to an abrupt halt, her heart sinking with despair at the stern look on his handsome features.
The big knight stopped before her, searching her face intently. “What is this I hear of an accident?”
She hated to lie to this man. “Not an accident, exactly. Ranulf . . . I took his horse,” Ariane added lamely.
“A grave mistake, lady.”
“I know, but he would have . . .”
The expression in Payn’s eyes was serious yet puzzled. “I know Ranulf. He would not have harmed you without severe inducement. There must be more to the tale.”
He waited patiently for an explanation that Ariane had no time to give. She twisted her fingers together in agitation. She desperately needed to find someone to carry her message of warning—
The gatekeeper’s trumpet heralded the approach of another party just then, making Ariane’s heart clench. Had Ranulf returned so soon?
“I must go . . .” she exclaimed and started to turn away, but Payn’s hand shot out to forestall her.
“I think not, my lady.”
Ariane went white. “Sir Payn, I beg you—”
“My oath is to Ranulf. I will not side with you against him. In any case, you may as well await him here. You will not escape him, you know.”
She shook her head blindly. Payn had mistaken the cause of her fear. She knew she could not hope to hide from Ranulf; he would hunt her down did she even try. She was more afraid of the consequences should he learn her secret than of the Black Dragon himself.
The choice was taken from her by Ranulf’s vassal, however. Unable to escape Payn’s imprisoning grasp on her arm, Ariane stood trembling beside him, taking faint comfort from his nearness.
Moments later the Black Dragon rode through the gates of the inner bailey before a silent crowd that had gathered to watch.