Page 61 of The Bodyguard Who Came in from the Cold
He watched her spread a blanket on the ground, then cover it with meat pies and cheese and berries. She broke open a round loaf of bread, and he heard his stomach rumble.
Margery glanced at him, but her smile was distracted. He was already regretting his words. At this very moment, he could have been inside her.
But he had to think of his distant goals—not the immediate ones. His vision told him hewouldhave Margery in time.
~oOo~
In the middle of the night, Gareth woke out of a sound sleep and felt panicked. He sat up in bed, rubbing his face with both hands. Even his impending sword fight with Townsend had not made him feel like this. He was sweating, and his breathing felt labored, as the certainty of danger suddenly swept over him.
Margery.
He bounded out of bed and pulled on boots and his leather jerkin, grabbed his sword, and tore open the door. He ran down the corridor and opened Margery’s door.
Her bedchamber was empty, her bed rumpled. On the edge of the sheets, he saw a spattering of blood.
18
The shock that slammed through Gareth stole his breath. Someone had taken Margery. He was her personal guard, and he’d failed.
And there was blood on the sheets.
He could almost hear her father, Lord Welles, speak the words that had shaped the significant moments of Gareth’s life.You must protect her.
What had he allowed to happen?
He ran back to his room, pulled on more clothing and a plated brigandine, then strapped on his sword and a dagger. He ran down the corridor, from one circle of light to the next, then took the stairs two at a time.
He already knew it was useless to search the castle. He had seen the truth in his visions, but he hadn’t believed, arrogant fool that he was. Margery would be on a man’s horse, heading down into the Severn Valley.
Would they cross the Severn and head into Wales, or take ship in Gloucester?
Outside, the night was moist with a misting rain that threatened fog. He didn’t bother trying the gatehouse first. He could not explain the reason that he needed the gates opened and the portcullis raised in the middle of the night—not without risking that the entire household would discover Margery’s abduction. Instead he quietly woke Wallace, who followed him down from the barracks and out into the ward, wearing only a long shirt.
“I’m not even dressed, Gareth,” Wallace said with a grumble. “This had better be?—”
“Margery is missing,” Gareth said shortly as he entered the stables. “I need you to tell the gatehouse guards to let me out.”
“Missing? Let me sound the alarm. We’ll muster?—”
“No!” He began to saddle his stallion. “What if her captor wishes to compromise and marry her? We can’t let them be found together. I will go alone.”
“Alone? ’Tis a foolish plan.”
“Perhaps, but I know which way they are going,” Gareth said, mounting his horse and trotting toward the gatehouse. “I can travel swiftly, and bring Margery back without anyone knowing.”
Wallace ran alongside. “How do you know where they’re going?”
“I just know.”
At the gatehouse they found two soldiers unconscious, and the portcullis raised.
“They’re alive,” Wallace said as he knelt beside them.
“See to them, but don’t let them know what happened. Lie, if you must.” The horse was restless, and danced with Gareth’s tight hand on the reins. “But Wallace, keep watch on the battlements for my return. I’ll be back soon.”
Wallace stood up as Gareth’s horse entered the tunnel of the gatehouse. He called, “But how can you—right, you just know.”
Gareth rode out into the night. Soon he was damp to the skin, but the discomfort was only what he deserved. Somewhere, Margery was alone with a scoundrel. She must be frightened, maybe seriously wounded, but he had no way to know.
