Page 23 of While Angels Slept
Myles downed the last of his wine. He found that his fatigue was catching up with him. “Shall I shadow the lady until Charles can be put away?”
“Nay,” Tevin said. “You have enough to do with the command ofRochester. I shall make sure the lady is well protected until Charles can be caged.”
“Very good, my lord. If there is nothing else, I shall retire for a time.”
Tevin waved him off, mulling over the conversation as Myles quit the hall. He thought to find Sir Dagan and order the imprisonment of Charles Penden until the man could get himself under control, but as he rose from the bench, Lady Penden passed within his line of sight, emerging from the solar and mounting the steps to the upper floors. A second later, Hunt and the big yellow dog also emerged and ran after her. He could hear the dog barks echo in the stairwell.
Now he was thinking on Cantia again. With a sigh of frustration, mostly at himself, he went about his business.
*
Charles Penden, assuspected, did not react well to being imprisoned. He shouted conspiracy and murder as Dagan and Gavril practically carried him to the gatehouse, dragging him down the narrow steps and incarcerating him in the bottle prison. The name of the prison was derived from the shape of the cell. The door was in the ceiling and the room was literally shaped like a bottle; wide at the bottom and narrowed up towards the top. It was virtually impossible to escape from. They left Charles screaming at the bottom of it.
They stood over the cell, looking into the hole that showed Charles at the bottom. The man was distraught, incoherently shouting. The two knights shook their heads.
“Crazy man,” Dagan growled.
Gavril nodded in agreement. Shorter and darker than his cousin, he was also the oldest man in the viscount’s service at nearly forty years of age. He had seen much, done much. He did not have much patience for a mad baron.
“We’ve duties on the wall,” he told his cousin. “Come along now. Let’s leave the baron to his hell.”
When they began to move, Charles started yelling louder. “Wait!” he called. “Wait, I say! Do not leave me here alone!”
Dagan called down to him. “Cease your struggles, baron,” he advised. “A show of sanity may very well see you released.”
Charles was trying to climb up the sides of the prison, only managing a few feet before sliding back down to the floor. “Release me and you shall be well rewarded,” he clawed into the brick so hard that his fingers came away bloodied. “Let me out of here and I shall give you all that I have. Let me out!”
Gavril shook his head, jabbing his finger in Dagan’s arm to prompt the man to follow him. But Dagan was finding a weird fascination out of watching Charles struggle.
“This is what I mean, baron,” he said. “You sound like a madman. Calm yourself and the viscount may take pity on you.”
Charles had stopped trying to scale the walls. He sat at the bottom of the pit, gazing up into the only opening that provided both light and air.
“Release me and I shall give you the lady and her dowry,” he offered, though there was defeat in his tone. “She came to my son with a large dowry. Release me and I shall give it, and her, to you. You could live like a king.”
“I’m sure I could,” Dagan said with mock patience. “And whereby would you get the power to do such a thing?”
“She belongs to me now.” Spit flew from Charles’ lips as he spoke. “She and the boy are mine, to do with as I please. Release me and I give her to you.”
Gavril continued to walk away, up the steps that led to the gatehouse. But Dagan stood there a moment, looking down at the crazed baron and entertaining possibilities that he just as quickly chased away.A madman’s desperate plea, he told himself. But he had seen the lady and she was quite lovely. An interesting thought, but not a realistic one. ’Twas a madman’s desperate plea.
He followed his cousin from the vault.
CHAPTER SIX
The next two weekspassed in relative peace. Charles stayed in the vault, which gave Tevin one less worry. Val was up and about, having been moved by Cantia to the third floor of the keep now that she was able to maneuver the stairs, and life in general seemed to be settling down for the first time since the death of Brac Penden. For the most part, there had been no more battles for the bridge, though a week after Brac’s death there had been a minor skirmish. Tevin and his knights had ridden to battle, but the enemy had quickly fled and the scuffle was over almost before it began. After that, it was eerily peaceful. Tevin couldn’t decide if he was grateful or suspicious.
He kept telling himself that he needed to stay at Rochester due to its close proximity to the bridge. It was the same story he told everyone. But two weeks after Brac’s death, with the country relatively quiet, that excuse wasn’t holding much weight. Truth be told, Tevin didn’t want to leave. He was coming to be comfortable here and more than that, he did not like the thought of leaving Cantia. In fact, it was almost a desperate situation.
Since the day that Charles struck her, she had kept her distance from him. He had seen her daily, ate with her almost every night in the great hall, but she was silent and reserved around him. It was almost as if she were afraid of him somehow. Yet when she was with Val, she would relax and smile and laugh. He was coming to feel very jealous that his sister could elicit such a reaction from the lovely lady. It made him more determined than ever not to leave Rochester. For some reason, it was becoming a fascination with him. He did not want to leave her and he could not clearly discern why.
On the morning of the first day of the new month, Tevin and a fewof his men escorted Cantia to mass at the massive cathedral in the village. Val tried to suit up in her armor, but it was still too painful for her, so Cantia had loaned her a soft linen sheath and yellow surcoat. With her flowing reddish gold hair, she made a striking picture.
It was a cool day, with puffy white clouds riding the gentle breezes. The sky was as brilliant as any of them had ever seen it and even though it was close to winter, there were birds about. It seemed that every living creature was determined to enjoy the day, including Cantia. She finally felt as if she was finally emerging from her destructive grief and a day like today was not only welcome, it was necessary. She needed to feel strong again.
The colossal cathedral loomed before them. Though it was not unexpected, the sight threatened to bring back memories of Brac’s funeral, but Cantia fought them. She would not allow herself to digress, not when her new-found strength was so hard won. As they entered the cavernous, cool sanctuary of Rochester Cathedral, Tevin spoke softly to Cantia as she walked past him.
“I am at your mercy, my lady,” he said quietly.
