Page 71 of Wolf's Return
He eased himself from her embrace and made quick work of the knots, rubbing her wrists and working the blood back into her fingers.
“How did you find me? How did you know I was here? You were yet to return, and Lance came to the keep, then—”
“We arrived at the keep not long after Lance. When I could not find you, when I thought you had left…”
“It was Didier. He took me from the keep.”
“I know. I tracked you through the forest.” He touched his forehead to hers. “I am so sorry, Constance, that I was not there to protect you. I gave you my vow, and I—”
Constance pressed a finger to his lips. “Confronting Lance was important to you.”
D’Artagnon took hold of her hand. “Nothing, Constance, is more important than you. Nothing will ever be more important than you.”
Her heart soared. “But Lance…?”
“Gaharet, and a few of the others, are hunting him. He has Lothair and a score of keep guards, too.”
A dark shape loomed behind them, and she cowered.
He pulled her into his embrace, cradling her against his chest. “It is but Aubert, my little healer. The twins and Remi came to help me save you.”
Remi? They had brought the boy here? This was no place for a boy. As if to confirm her thoughts, a low moan, faint and full of pain, reminded Constance she was not the only woman the priest had confined down here.
She tugged at D’Artagnon’s tunic. “You cannot leave her here. Please.”
“Hush now, Constance.” He dropped a kiss on top of her head. “Edmond has her.” D’Artagnon picked Constance up, cradling her in his arms.
“I can walk. I am bruised, but not truly injured.”
D’Artagnon’s answer was to hold her tighter. She dropped her head against his chest and let him carry her, settling into the comfort and protection of his arms.
D’Artagnon swept out of the door, the faint light in the corridor little relief from the darkness. “We must hurry. Faucher will not be happy when he realizes he no longer has you, or the other woman, captive.”
He climbed the stairs and raced her through the sacristy and into the nave, Aubert behind them and Edmond bringing up the rear, a woman in his arms.
The aumônier, another beggar boy beside him, rushed over to them. “Quick, quick. Remi is waiting at the gate with a horse and cart. You must go.” He ushered them toward the door.
“I am sorry about this, Aumônier,” said Aubert as he crashed his fist into the aumônier’s face.
The man crumpled to his knees, clutching his nose, blood seeping through his fingers.
“Tell Faucher you could not stop us. You tried, but we were too strong, too many,” called Edmond over his shoulder. “If you could not mention us by name, that would be helpful. But do not fear if you must.”
They pushed through the chapel doors and hurried down the hill, crossing the bailey and passing quickly through the gate. Remi waited with a horse and cart, and their horses he had fetched from the forest.
“We will split up. It will make us harder to track should Faucher try to follow us.” D’Artagnon turned to Edmond. “You and Aubert have the cart.”
Aubert jumped up to take the reins from Remi, and Edmond settled himself in the back, resting the woman against his chest.
Constance pushed to be let down, and D’Artagnon set on her feet. She hobbled toward the cart, but D’Artagnon pulled her back.
“I must go to her, D’Artagnon.” The woman needed a healer. She was in far worse condition than Constance. How long had she been in the clutches of the witch hunter?
“There is naught you can do for her here now, and we do not have the luxury of time.” He led her over to their horses. “Edmond will take care of her.”
D’Artagnon took two sets of reins off Remi and helped her to mount up. She glanced at the cart. Edmond brushed the woman’s hair from her brow. His lips moved. Words of comfort, perhaps. They were too soft for Constance to hear them. She did not like leaving the woman, but D’Artagnon was right. She had no herbs with her to create a poultice or a tonic. Nor the time to prepare them.
Aubert flicked the reins, starting the cart off toward the square, Remi trailing along behind them.
