Ariana pursed her lips. Part of her wished her father could indeed see her now, to bear witness to the extraordinary feats of discipline she displayed in her determination to free her aunt from the clutches of Darkmoor.
Though Sir Leon would prefer she turned her attention to finding his ruby.Ysmay’s ruby.
A stone in which she had no interest at all.
She had reached the end of the woods. If memory served her correctly, she must turn away from the outer wall of the castle and head down to where the river carved a deep path to the sea. The towering gray castle walls seemed to mock her as she slipped on a loose patch of sand, but she pressed on, peering desperately into the gloom of the valley for the flash of carved stone she had spied yesterday.
There it was. The arched perimeter of a squat tower, hiding amongst the gnarled branches. She slowed her pace and took a welcome lungful of air, wishing she could push back her hood and let the strong breeze cool the back of her neck.
This must be Traitor’s Gate. There was no other reason to build a tower so far from the castle. And she recognized the elaborate sweep of architectural design, even though here it was far subdued.
Could she simply walk in and find Ysmay?
Her keen eyes fixed on a wooden door set into the stone above the river and a cold stab of disappointment pierced her belly when she saw the crimson flash of a uniformed guard.
Not so simple a rescue then. But she would not be easily dissuaded, not when she was so very close.
Her eyes travelled up the short expanse of stone to the top of the tower, then back down again. Not so much as a window interrupted the smooth stones. Her hands shook with anxiety. Ysmay had always been a creature of sun and sky. How would she bear incarceration in perpetual darkness?
She wouldn’t, Ariana concluded. She would be driven to despair. But Merek had assured her that no harm had come to her aunt.
She scanned the back of the tower, as far as she could see. At first, she discerned nothing save the fast gushing of the river. But then another shape jumped out of the gloom. She took a few steps closer, uncaring of being seen. What was that?
Ariana shaded her eyes against the weak sunlight. A smile creased the corner of her mouth when she finally made out the arch of a covered bridge, jutting over the fast-flowing greenish water. The bridge led to another tower, taller this time, at the other side. Both were half-hidden amidst the abundant trees.
Was this where Ysmay was being held? But there was no way over the river save by the squat tower and the guarded bridge.And even a poor, unremarkable peasant would not be granted entry to Traitor’s Gate. Ariana chewed on her lip, ruminating hard. She already knew that the river would not be safe to cross. One false step and she would be swept away.
Once more, she scanned the tall tower which reared up to the tops of the trees. Her gaze fixed on the battlements, which were no longer so uniformly gray. Someone was up there. A tall, willowy figure robed in the white sheet of a penitent.
Ariana’s heart leaped. It was Ysmay. There was no mistaking her waterfall of silvery blonde hair, nor her gracious bearing. She was thin, very thin. Ariana’s spirits sank when she saw how the white robes fell from narrow, almost skeletal shoulders. But the druid healer stood with her head held high, face upturned to the weak sunlight.
She was alive.
She wanted to call out and wave to attract her attention but regained her senses just in time. It would be of no service to her aunt if Ariana’s subterfuge was discovered now.
At once, their situation became more dreadful. For although Ariana had found her aunt, the hangman’s noose was all but tied around her slender neck. Ysmay lived still, for today at least, but tomorrow was not guaranteed. There was but one way for prisoners to leave Traitor’s Gate.
Ariana bit down on her lip and tasted blood, then turned regretfully and started picking her way back through the trees. With every minute that passed there was a greater risk of her being discovered.
Her mind raced as she clambered up the slope, one hand clutching the gaping folds of the cloak. She must find a way to act, and quickly. If only she had a friend to turn to. Her mind leaped from one outlandish scenario to another. Could she summon soldiers from Kenmar?
No, she concluded as she dampened her dry lips with her tongue, wishing she had thought to bring a flask of ale. That idea was worth little consideration. Sir Leon would never spare men for such a task. And none were likely to be equal to it. Ariana shook her head at the ridiculous prospect of one of her father’s disheveled soldiers daring to stand against the might of Otto.
Her boot slipped on a tree root and Ariana flung out her hands, only saving herself just in time. Her palms stung and her back ached, and that was when the answer to all her problems became clear.
Merek.
She would beg assistance from her mother’s old friend. The physician had already given his promise that he would help all he could to rescue Ysmay from her sentence. And all she needed from him was a sleeping draught. One perchance even stronger than that he had brought to her chamber so recently. Merek was a brilliant herbalist. He could mix a potion so potent that the guard would be felled before he had the chance to raise the alarm.
She paused as a mixture of relief and adrenaline coursed through her veins. She had a plan now. All that remained was the execution of it. And the need to persuade Merek to act against the man he served.
Otto.
The name reverberated through her mind as she passed through a wide meadow, the grass parting before her like a wave. Was he her friend or her foe? In the short time she had known him, he had been both. When she first came to Darkmoor, Ariana had expected nothing but harsh treatment at the hands of the notorious earl, but the reality had been far different.
Otto Sarragnac had proven himself a man of depth and mystery. Did anyone really know him?
Ariana was finally approaching the gatehouse, but she slowed to a standstill as an idea of outlandish proportions occurred to her.
