Bound In Darkness 02 - The Devil's Knight Part 17

Tristan was sleeping peacefully in one of the beds he had ordered a.s.sembled in the dungeons, but Simon was struggling to stay awake, watching Orlando examine Siobhan's sword. "Is it the same weapon?" he asked.

"It could be," the wizard said, comparing the short, thick-handled blade to the ancient drawing of the Chalice with its cross of stake and sword below. "Tristan said he felt a frisson of some kind when he first touched it. Here." He held it out to Simon by the blade. "You try."

Simon took the handle cautiously. "Nothing," he answered. "But I didn't feel anything special when I picked up Joseph's stake, either." He examined the blade as well. "It looks old."

"It is ancient," Orlando nodded. "That much I'm certain of. The metal is neither steel nor bronze, but it's much too sharp for iron."

He consulted another scroll, then shook his head. "Some Roman could have dropped it in the days of Julius Caesar," he said. "Or it could be as old as Kivar."

"Where do you suppose she found it?" Simon said, handing it back to the dwarf.

Orlando smiled. "That would be the question." He gave it an experimental swing, and Simon smiled back.

"It suits you," he said. "It's just your size."

"Not quite," the wizard said, setting it aside. He left the cell to pace the narrow pa.s.sageway outside for at least the tenth time that morning.

"These are the dungeons, Orlando," Simon pointed out. "I doubt you'll find any secret pa.s.sageways out."

"It's here," the wizard insisted. "I can feel it." He pressed his hands against the hard-packed earthen wall. "DuMaine's tower is new, but these caverns are ancient, as old as the catacombs at Charmot. They must lead out to the caves we found in the wood."

"There is a cave at Charmot as well," Simon said, the memory of the horror he had suffered there like a waking nightmare in his current drowsy state. Lucan Kivar had chained him to the wall with the sunlight creeping closer through a hole in the roof and an innocent bleeding in his arms. Only his love's intervention had saved him. "Perhaps it was connected to the catacombs as well."

"It makes sense," Orlando agreed. "The ancient ones would have wanted a hidden escape." His expression clouded as if at some memory of his own, and Simon tried to ask him what it was. But when he opened his mouth, all that came out was a yawn. "You should sleep," the wizard said with a smile. "Tonight we will all have much to do."

Siobhan found the baron in the manor's hall. "My lord," she said softly, laying a hand on his arm. "Will you join me in the solar?"

He turned with a look that took her in from head to toes, a strange, speculative smile teasing the corners of his mouth. "Of course." He took her hand and tucked it into the crook of his elbow, and the same shiver she had felt when he touched her the day before pa.s.sed through her. "Please, lead on."

It's because Sean wanted us to marry, she decided as they moved discreetly through the crowded hall. That is why he makes me feel so odd. Silas had joined Master Nicholas over his books, and he met her eyes as they pa.s.sed, frowning slightly. But Silas was Tristan's friend more than hers, she knew. She needed an ally of her own.

She closed the solar door behind them and slid the bolt home. "Don't," Callard warned, reaching past her to open it again. "Your husband's castle has eyes, my lady. Have you not noticed?" He pulled the door ajar, smiling at her before he moved away. "If we are to hide, we must do so in plain sight."

"As you will," she murmured, glancing through the crack before she followed him to the far side of the room. Obviously he was far more skilled in such intrigues than she was. "Are we hiding?"

"Are we not?" His smile was friendly, but she still didn't trust him. Such a pretty face could hide a mult.i.tude of sins, and despite what Sean might think, she had seen very little evidence of his honor. "Where is your brother, my lady?"

"What makes you think I know?" she said lightly, moving past him to open the shutters. He flinched slightly from the light as if it hurt his eyes, but he did not move away. "And if I did know, why should I tell you?"

"Because I can still save him." She turned to find his expression more serious. "Is that not what you want?"

"Why should I trust you?" she countered. "You called yourself my brother's friend, yet you arrive here in procession with his enemy."

"So I look like a traitor," he answered, his smile slowly returning. "But I only rode in with DuMaine. What shall we call you?"

"His wife," she retorted without a moment's pause. He could not hurt her by suggesting she had betrayed her brother and her cause to be her demon's wh.o.r.e; she thought the same herself. "Tell me, my lord baron, what should I be instead?"

"That is still to be decided." He took a half-step back from her as if surrendering the field. "You should not fear me, Siobhan." He waited for a moment as if he expected her to answer, but she only looked at him, waiting for him to go on. "I met Master Nicholas on the road on my way here," he said at last, taking a seat on a bench. "When I realized he knew nothing of Tristan DuMaine's death, I thought it best not to enlighten him." He smiled. "Good thing, too."

"What did you tell him?" she said, not returning his smile. "Why did you tell him you were coming here?"

"I told him I had heard rumors of changes here at Castle DuMaine, conflicting rumors of war and marriage," he answered. "The question is, why did we meet DuMaine himself less than a day's ride away, accompanied by an Irish duke, no less?"

His manner was still easy, but his eyes were searching hers, suddenly intent. "I could not say," she answered, forcing herself not to look away. "Like you, I a.s.sumed he was dead."

"Really?" he asked. "Did you see his body?"

"I saw him all but dead, carried away from here by men who would not hesitate to murder him at my brother's order," she said.

"Did your man Gaston not tell you as much himself?"

"He did," he nodded. "Gaston has told me many things, my lady." He looked down at the dagger in his belt, his handsome face drawn slightly in a frown. "But some of it I choose not to believe."

Nothing else he could have said would have swayed her so much to his favor as this. "You do not trust your own servant?" she asked him.

He smiled. "Do you?" She smiled back slightly, and he shook his head. "Gaston has his uses, Siobhan. But he does not have my trust." He reached out and lightly took her hand. "And I do not have yours."

Again, her flesh p.r.i.c.kled with revulsion. His hand was clean and warm, perfectly formed. Why should she be so loath to let him touch her? Was she doomed now to crave only demons? "I do not give my trust so easily, my lord," she said, withdrawing her hand.

"Not even to your brother?" he countered. "Did he not tell you to confide in me?"

"He also told me to marry DuMaine," she pointed out with a wry smile. "Aye, my lord, Sean does believe in your friendship." If she did not mean to trust in him even a little, why had she brought him here? "And I do need your help." She sat down beside him on the bench, carefully keeping her skirts from touching his knees. "Forgive me for being so cautious."

"There's nothing to forgive, Siobhan," he promised with his winning smile. "I admire your caution and your courage." He touched a lock of her hair, brushing it back from her cheek without touching her skin. "You have been wounded many times, and it has made you stronger." The look in his eyes subtly changed, his smile turning sadder and more real. "We have that in common, you and I."

"Sean fled into the forest, just as I told DuMaine," she answered. "But I told him to do it. He promised to return, but I don't see how he can. I can't even leave the castle-Tristan has me under guard. And I'm afraid Sean will try to rescue me or-" She broke off before she could say "destroy Tristan." She would not tell this stranger the truth of Tristan's nature, not yet. If he did not believe her, he would think her mad. And if he did...she did not even want to think what that could mean.

"I have no doubt Sean means to rescue you," he answered. "But I doubt even he would attempt another open siege. But there may be another way." He got up from the bench and walked over to the door, glancing casually outside. "Did Sean tell you anything about the pa.s.sages under the castle?"

"What? No..." She shook her head, confused. "What pa.s.sages?"

"He said he remembered as a boy his mother speaking of catacombs under the hill where DuMaine's motte now stands," he answered. "Apparently they led to a cavern in the forest, a place he had already found."

"The druid's hill?" Could Sean have found something related to the ancient places and not told her about it? After his amused reaction to Tristan's destroying the tower, she supposed it was possible. "My mother did speak of the ancient ones living in a tower on that hill, but I never remember her mentioning any caves underneath it," she said aloud. "And I know nothing of any cave Sean found in the forest."

"I a.s.sure you, my lady, he did," he answered. "His original intention before I agreed to supply him with siege engines and troops was to use the caves to enter the castle. If we could find the entrance under DuMaine's tower, you could escape with your husband none the wiser." The intense light she had seen in his eyes before had returned, a kind of piercing gleam quite at odds with his usual demeanor. "Sean might even be able to lead more men inside and take the castle back again. We might still rescue your people before DuMaine takes his revenge."

"Tristan doesn't mean to hurt the people," she said before she thought.

"Are you certain?" he asked gently. "From what I've heard of him, he is not the sort to easily forgive."

She didn't answer, but in her heart, she had to admit he was right. But he had said nothing to the king's man or his own knights of what he had suffered. He had let her live, had kissed her, not clapped her in irons. "I know nothing of these pa.s.sages," she said at last. "But I suppose we could look."

"We will have to be cautious," he warned her. "If DuMaine suspects-"

"He won't," she cut him off. Tristan had to leave his dungeon sanctuary sometime. She would talk to him, discover his plans if she could. But if there was a secret way out of the castle, she would escape with any of the people who wanted to come with her.

Somehow she would convince Sean to flee, to give up their cause for good. But could she give up Tristan? "Thank you, Baron,"

she said, smiling at him. "I am in your debt."

"Not at all." He made her a small bow. "Now come. We have been in private long enough."

"Yes." If Tristan's knights were all watching her as closely as Sir Sebastian, one of them would have taken note of where she was by now. "Tell me, my lord," she said as they started out, raising her voice to be heard in the corridor beyond. "What is your Christian name?"

"My Christian name?" he echoed with a queer, barking laugh that made her turn to look at him again. "Lucan," he said with the same sad smile as before, when he had spoken of how they had both suffered. "You may call me Lucan."

"As you will." This time she made herself take hold of his arm before he offered it. "Lucan."

"Siobhan!" Clare came running up the stairs, her little slippers ringing on the stones. "The guards won't let me see my papa," she said, her little girl's face drawn into a perfect miniature of Tristan's scowl of fury. She gave the baron a glance as Siobhan knelt down before her. "Tell them I must speak to him."

"I would, love, but they won't listen to me." She smiled at Callard as she picked the child up in her arms. He smiled back but only slightly, and his eyes were cold. Lucan of Callard apparently did not care for children. "They would not let me go in, either,"

Siobhan said, kissing Clare's cheek. "They are being very naughty."

"Yes." She kissed her back. "We will tell Papa."

"Yes, we will," Siobhan agreed. "Come...you shall stay with me." Nodding one last time to the baron, she carried the child away.

Tristan awoke at sunset, haunted by dreams he could barely remember, images of his castle in flames once again and of Siobhan in peril, her beautiful face smeared with blood and soot. "No," he muttered, turning his face into the pillow. "Not real."

"I beg your pardon?" Simon said with his accustomed humor, watching him from the other bed, already wide awake.

"Nothing." He got up and went to the door. "You there!" he called to the guards at the end of the pa.s.sage. "Somebody fetch me some water."

"Orlando has gone to find Silas," Simon said when he came back. "He wants to start digging through your dungeon wall."

"Why?" Tristan asked, annoyed. Hunger gnawed inside him, inconvenient but impossible to ignore. He would have to hunt soon.

"He thinks there is a way into the catacombs from here," his vampire brother answered. If he suffered similar pangs, he hid them well.

"There might be, I suppose." The guardsman carried in a wooden bucket of water with a pewter basin and clean towels, and the sound of his heartbeat echoed in the vampire's ears, almost too tempting to resist. He set his burden down on the table, and Tristan dismissed him with a wave. "We built this tower on the foundation of an ancient structure that the peasants treated like a shrine," he said, filling the basin. "They made quite a ruckus when we took it down." He ducked his face into the water, trying to clear his head as he washed.

"My lord!" Sir Andrew was coming down the pa.s.sage, ready to report. "Forgive me for disturbing you," he said, quaking a bit at Tristan's scowl. "I heard you were awake."

"Who else is coming, sir knight?" Simon said with a grin as he got up himself. "Should we make ready for a procession?"

"None else but me, your grace," the knight said, returning his smile. "Though I do believe Lady Siobhan and Lady Clare would both have visited long since if the guards had allowed it."

"Siobhan was here?" Tristan asked. "Where is she now?"

"She was not here in the dungeons, my lord," Andrew answered. "Sebastian stopped her on the bridge and explained you had asked not to be disturbed. She did not like it, but she did not press him, either."

"I will go and find Orlando," Simon said, clapping him briefly on the shoulder as he left.

"Meet me later in the stables," Tristan told him. "We will ride out."

Simon nodded. "As you will."

"So Sebastian spoke to my wife," Tristan said when his vampire brother was gone.

"This morning," Andrew nodded. "She meant to ride out, but he would not allow it. Then she said she would come and speak to you, but he persuaded her not to try."

The young knight's eyes were troubled. "What is it?" Tristan asked.

He looked back down the pa.s.sage toward the guards as if to make certain they weren't listening. "My lord, we have questioned the lieutenants," he said more softly. "They told us...if it isn't true, you can hardly imagine what they said."

"It is true," Tristan answered. "Lebuin and his brigands took the castle."

"Sweet Christ." Andrew's heart stepped up its pace, and Tristan closed his eyes, trying to shut out the sound, to focus on the conversation. "And Lady Siobhan-"

"Lady Siobhan is my wife," Tristan cut him off. "That is all you need know."

"Yes, my lord." The young knight dropped his head to hide his expression as Tristan opened his eyes, properly chastened but obviously unconvinced.

"a.s.semble the knights and lieutenants in the tower hall," Tristan said more gently. "Remove anyone you do not know yourself, anyone not of our original garrison-send them across the bridge to the manor. I will meet you there before midnight and explain my plan."

Andrew smiled, relieved. "Yes, my lord." He started out, then stopped. "My lord, what do you know of this baron of Callard?"

Tristan frowned. "Why do you ask?"

"No just reason, I hope." In the past, Andrew had always been his least diplomatic, most plainspoken knight; if he was hedging, something was amiss. "But when Sebastian refused to allow your lady to leave the castle or come to you, she sought out the baron of Callard."

"Sought him out?" Tristan repeated. Jealousy sparked inside him, fed by his demonic hunger. Lebuin had spoken of Callard as Siobhan's future husband after he himself was dead. He had told Callard's man that Siobhan was against the plan. But since then, had she changed her mind? "Are you certain it was not the baron who sought her?"

"He seemed none too displeased to see her," Andrew allowed. "But she approached him first. They spent some half an hour alone in the solar together." He frowned. "If I had been there, I would have interrupted, or at least sent a servant to eavesdrop on their conversation."

"I'm sure it was nothing," Tristan said. "Now leave me." The young knight nodded, leaving him alone to dress and sort his thoughts. He put on his own clothes for the first time in weeks, but it gave him little pleasure. Somehow he had to leave the castle, hunt, and feed without causing a stir, then return and make his garrison believe he was still their lord, all while satisfying Simon and Orlando in their mythic and, to his mind, mostly pointless quest.

But first he must see to Siobhan.

CHAPTER 16