Outlaw (Medieval Trilogy 3) - Page 80

“Thank ye for that much. I’m tellin’ ye, Jack, that boy will be the death of me and his ma. Always gettin’ into trouble, that one, not like his older brother—hey! What the—”

Jack sprang and Wolf lunged from his hiding place in the dark corner near the stairs. Together, they knocked the guard off his feet and wrested the knife from his hands. He fought, kicked, and swore as Jack lashed his hands behind his broad back. “I thought we might make a trade, Theodore,” he said, holding his knife to the guard’s thick neck. “I’ll not tell Holt about yer boy and ye keep yer mouth shut about this.”

“Nay, I cannot.”

“Then ye’ll die.” Jack appeared about to slice his throat open, but Wolf stopped him.

“No more bloodshed.”

“What?”

“Holt’s blood is all that needs be spilled. This man has done nothing wrong.”

“He’ll sound the alarm.”

“So be it.”

Theodore listened to this exchange with bulging eyes. “No good’ll come of this, Jack. What the hell d’ye think ye’re doin’?”

“Saving the castle.”

“By gettin’ me killed? Holt’ll have me hide when he finds out what ye’re up to. Yer skin will be worthless, too!”

“Like as not.”

Wolf reached for the guard’s key ring. He saw the sorcerer in the corner of the cell, standing peacefully, though he was chained with thick links to the wall. “You’re to be a free man,” he assured the magician as he swung open the gate and held a torch aloft, throwing flickering illumination through the cell. When the light touched the cripple’s eyes, Wolf’s blood turned to ice, for standing before him was not the sorcerer he’d heard so much about but his old friend, the boy he thought had lost his life on the rocky shoals beneath the cliffs of Abergwynn.

“I knew you’d come,” Cadell said in an even tone. “What took ye so long, Ware of Abergwynn?”

“For the love of Jesus. Cadell.”

“Aye. ’Tis I.”

“What happened to ye—where’ve ye been?”

“We have no time for this.”

“Let’s go!” Jack said.

“Aye,” Wolf said, grateful that his old friend had survived. He wasted no time, but opened the cell. “Right now, we must leave.” He unchained his old friend, then slapped a small dagger into his hand.

“I use not weapons.”

Wolf’s eyes met Cadell’s in the darkness. “If we escape without battle, praise God. But if we run across anyone who wants to kill us, please, do them the honor first.”

“Come!” Jack yelled. “We’ve lost too much time.” He had gagged and bound the guard and now tossed the frightened man into Cadell’s cell. Slamming the door shut with a distinct clang, he led them up the slippery stairs.

The air became clearer and Wolf, holding on to the hilt of his sword, breathed deeply. Within minutes, they’d ride through the gates of Dwyrain and into the forest. Once back at the camp, he’d start looking for Megan, sending his men out to the villages and keeps until he found her. Cadell could help . . .

And what then, Wolf, his mind sneered. What do you plan to offer her? The life of an outlaw—a man with no castle, no house, his only possession a sword? Or are you willing to give up your freedom?

Pale light filtered through the open door, and Jack stepped cautiously out of the tower. Wolf was behind him, his eyes searching the bailey for Tom and Robin, who were nowhere in sight. They might have been waylaid trying to raise the portcullis in the gatehouse. Or … the hairs on his nape raised and his fingers tightened over the hilt of his sword. The castle was still as death. Stepping onto the packed mud near the door of the tower, he began to sweat in the cold mist.

“Wolf! Watch out!” Jack’s voice cut through the silence, then there was the clang of steel striking steel. Swords clashed, ringing through the bailey.

From the corner of his eye, Wolf saw a glint of metal, a silent, swift movement near the side of his head. He ducked, spinning fast, sword drawn, as a battle ax cleaved the air and sliced heavily into the earth. The ground shuddered.

Wolf rolled onto the balls of his feet, slicing around him as men, eight or ten of them, ran, swords drawn, from the shadows. Within seconds, they’d surrounded the doorway of the tower. Bloody Christ, what had gone wrong?

Tags: Lisa Jackson Medieval Trilogy Historical
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