The snow was swirling outside and it was nearly as dark as pitch. When he deemed the coast to be clear, Kenneth took Toby down the rebuilt stairs and whisked her across the bailey. The snow was so heavy that it was blinding and Toby kept a tight grip on Kenneth as he led her through the maelstrom. When she finally opened her eyes, she realized they were at the chapel. It gave her a moment of pause and Kenneth felt her hesitation. When he looked at her and noted her reluctant expression, he actually smiled at her. It was a forced smile, but a smile nonetheless.
“Come along,” he said, opening the panel into the black room. “We shall hide out in good company.”
With a deep breath for courage, Toby stepped through. Kenneth followed and left the door half-opened behind them. He did not shut it at all.
It was, literally, as quiet as a tomb. It was also black and freezing. The only source of light was from three lancet windows cut high into the wall, barely giving any illumination to see by. But Kenneth would not risk a torch so he took Toby by the hand and felt his way along the wall until they reached Ailsa’s fresh grave. He carefully steered Toby around it and took her towards the altar.
The one feature that the chapel had was that there was an alcove behind the altar for the priest. It was shielded by a partial wall carved from oak, and very old. A tiny door was cut into the alcove that led through the exterior wall of the fortress and into the stables. The theory was that the priest would arrive atthe stables and pass through the hidden passage, unseen and protected, to the chapel. Since it had not been used in fifty years, the door that led into the stables was blocked off with hay and other stable implements. It was into this passage that Kenneth took Toby.
It was dark, dank and bitterly cold in the tunnel. There was no light at all except for the small door which Kenneth had cracked open. He crouched just inside the tunnel by the door, his ears peaked and his knightly senses attuned. Toby sat on the ground behind him, wrapped tightly in her cloak, and shivered.
“Why did you not shut the door chapel door?” she whispered.
His ice-blue eyes were riveted to the opening in the small doorway. “Because if they were to come upon a closed, bolted door, they would assume there was something inside to be protected,” he whispered in return. “By leaving the door open, they will assume it is an abandoned room and not give it further thought.”
She nodded in understanding, hunkering down beneath her cloak. It was bitterly cold and she was beginning to wonder where Tate, and everyone else, had gone. She was terribly worried about him and congratulated herself on being rather brave when they had been separated. It had all happened so fast. Now, reality was beginning to set in and her apprehension was growing.
It wasn’t long before they heard voices in the bailey. Horses snorted and there were sounds of weapons moving about. Kenneth remained still as stone, listening to all that was transpiring and the voices of the men as they began moving about the bailey. Someone gave the command to search the keep. Toby’s heart was pounding in her ears as she heard voices from the bailey draw nearer.
She buried her face in her cloak, praying that they would not be discovered. Kenneth was so quiet that she swore the man hadturned to rock. She could not even hear him breathing. Long minutes passed and they heard voices now and again, very faint, as the intruders searched the grounds. Toby’s apprehension was reaching splitting capacity and it was difficult to keep her breathing quiet. Her body was quivering with fear and cold.
Voices suddenly seemed to be coming from the stables; they could hear them off to their left. Kenneth finally moved from his stone-like position and slid past her, moving to the end of the passage that butted up against the stables. He could hear better there. From the sounds of it, it seemed as if they were on to something, or someone, in the stalls. Toby was terrified that it was Tate.
Her palms were sweating and her breathing began to come in pants. If they were to capture Tate, then Edward was surely with him and both of them would die. She had little doubt. She could not allow that to happen, not if she could possibly save them. It was an idiotic notion and she knew it. But her fear for Tate outweighed her sense of self-preservation, so she did the only thing she could think of.
Kenneth was too far away to grab her when she suddenly shot out of the passage. Toby raced through the chapel and exploded out into the snowy bailey. The trouble was, however, that most of the men were concentrating their search near the stables and kitchens. They were fairly far off and she could see their dark outlines through the white haze. Even though she had just bolted from the chapel, they had not seen her.
Several horses stood off to her right and their presence suddenly gave her an idea. Toby suddenly began screaming and waving her hands.
“Here!” she hollered, watching several helmed heads turned towards her. “Here I am! I am over here!”
Fed by panic, she raced to one of the horses and managed to scramble into the saddle. Gathering the reins, she dug her heelsinto the side of the beast and nearly lost her seat when the horse took off. Soon, she was racing from the bailey as at least a dozen soldiers ran to their horses in pursuit. Within seconds, an entire posse was roaring after her into the dark and snowy night.
Kenneth bolted from the chapel in time to run into two soldiers. He made quick work of them with his broadsword, all the while swearing under his breath at Lady de Lara. Suddenly, the stables came alive with the sounds of a sword fight and Kenneth raced into the dark, cold stable just as Tate and Edward put away three men. The dragonblade broadsword in Tate’s hand dripped red with blood. Four more intruders were in the kitchens in a massive battle with Stephen and Wallace. Edward raced in the direction of the fight but Tate grabbed Kenneth before the man could follow.
“What in the hell happened?” he nearly shouted. “Where is Toby?”
Kenneth felt like he had failed by letting her get away from him; on the other hand, it was the bravest, most foolish thing he had ever seen. “She rode off on a stolen horse with about a dozen men in pursuit,” he couldn’t explain better than that. “She ran away from me before I could stop her.”
“Why in God’s name did she run?”
“Bait, I believe.” He could think of no other reason.
Tate looked at him as if the man had lost his mind. “She… she lured those men out of the stables?”
Kenneth nodded. “She must have heard the commotion and thought to divert their attention. I, in fact, thought they had located you.”
“They had,” Tate growled, then ripped his helm off and tossed it to the ground in a fit of anger. “Damn her! She is going to get herself killed, the silly wench. I must go after her.”
Kenneth stopped him. “Nay,” he said firmly. “Take Edward and the rest of them and get to the horses north of the castle. Donot waste her sacrifice. She pulled those men off for a reason. I will go after her.”
Tate had never been more torn in his life; his momentary anger at her actions suddenly gave way to terror. “My God,” he breathed. “I said that she was brave but I had no idea just how brave she really was. Did she truly gain their attention to draw them away from Edward and me?”
“I can think of no other explanation,” Kenneth replied. “She moved before I could stop her.”
Tate swallowed hard as sounds of the swordfight near the kitchens died away and he turned in time to see Wallace dispatching the last soldier. Edward and Stephen were running in Tate’s direction, swords up and in full battle mode, but all Tate could think of at the moment was Toby. He put his hand on Kenneth’s shoulder, struggling with his emotions.
“She is all to me,” he whispered. “Know this.”
