“What is he saying?” Toby wondered aloud.
Tate shook his head. “I do not know. It sounds like….”
He never got a chance to finish his sentence; Timothy came close enough so that they were able to hear him. “Run!”
Startled, Tate and Toby watched as the keep suddenly came alive with dozens of soldiers pouring through the open door. Upon the walls, shouts could be heard and the portcullis, still in its raised position, began to crank closed. Timothy was still waving his arms, still shouting, until a soldier caught him from behind and knocked him to the ground. After that, they could no longer see him. Toby shouted his name, fearful for the man. He had come to warn them; she was terrified that he had paid the ultimate price for that kindness.
As for Tate, he was faced with a very harrowing reality; as he had feared, an alarm had been raised. Somehow, some way, they had been alerted to his presence and Toby’s physic friend had been attempting to warn them off. The element of secrecy was no longer on their side and he knew their time had run out.
He turned to Kenneth. “Get her out of here,” he told him. “I will do what I can to keep Mortimer from following. Go!”
It took Toby a moment to realize that he was not going to ride out with them. He was already unsheathing his borrowed blade, preparing to face the incoming enemy. Realizing that he intended to hold off the horde as they escaped, panic surged through her.
“Nay!” she cried, reaching for him even as Kenneth tried to turn her horse around. “Tate, I will not leave you, not again!”
He turned to look at her as the chaos around them increased. “I will find you,” he said calmly, though the pain in his eyes was powerful. “Go with Kenneth. You will need to tend him. I will catch up.”
She burst into tears, pulling her horse to a halt even as Kenneth tried to get the animal moving.
“Tate, please,” she wept. “Please come with me now. I cannot leave you here to die.”
“I will not die, sweetheart,” he said softly, noting with increased panic that the portcullis was about a third of the waydown. “Go with Kenneth and do not argue with me. I need to see that you are safe. I will see you soon.”
“Nay!” she screamed.
Tate’s emotions were on the surface as he looked to Kenneth. He couldn’t bear to look at the agony in Toby’s eyes. “Take her home, Ken,” he pleaded quietly. “Just… take her home.”
Toby reached out for Tate, straining, even as Kenneth took hold of her horse’s reins. Tate reached also, like a last desperate effort, and their fingertips brushed. He could feel her warmth but he couldn’t quite touch her. Kenneth was pulling her along and she was quickly out of his reach. Heart aching with sorrow, with fear for them both, he managed to smack the horse’s rear with the broad side of the blade, like a swatter, and the beast took off. The last Tate saw, Kenneth and Toby had barely cleared the portcullis. But it was enough. They had escaped.
Knowing his wife was now free, Tate turned to face his duty as the soldiers began to swarm. He could see Mortimer at the top of the stairs and smiled at the man. It was a smile of victory.
The last Toby saw of her husband was of him standing in a circle of well-armed men. As she and Kenneth cleared the gatehouse, she lost sight of him altogether. As she had once sacrificed herself to save him, he was now doing the same for her. God help her; she realized he was now doing the same for her and the knowledge of it was as emotionally crippling as anything she had ever known.
All she could do was pray.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
It was adark and cold night. A few weeks ago, Toby had spent the night lying on her back with aching ribs, with Kenneth sitting next to her vigilantly. Tonight, it was different; it was she who was sitting next to Kenneth vigilantly. The man was sleeping soundly thanks to a potion given to him by one of the barber-surgeons belonging to Liam de Lara. She’d not yet met Tate’s adoptive brother but she was sure she would at some point. At this moment, however, she frankly did not care. She only wanted to see her husband, safe and sound, and no one else.
The tears had been falling most of the night. Every time she thought of Tate standing strong against the horde of Mortimer’s men, she dissolved into quiet tears again. She prayed continuously that it would not be her last glimpse of her husband alive. As she listened to Kenneth’s heavy breathing, she wiped the silent tears that fell, scared and feeling very much alone.
They were all waiting for Tate; all ten thousand men. Toby had never seen so many people in her life as she and Kenneth had ridden into camp. They had been taken right away to an empty tent where Kenneth’s wound had been tended. Men had brought food and drink, and several knights she had never seen before had come to talk to Kenneth about Tate’s whereaboutsand the current status of Wigmore. The men had ignored her until Kenneth had introduced her as Lady de Lara. Then, it was as if they could not do enough for her; food, furs, and warm things were sent to her in droves. She had piles of it. But all she wanted was her husband and he was nowhere, as of yet, to be found. As the minutes of the dark night ticked away, Toby slipped deeper and deeper into anguish.
It had been a long night with her turbulent thoughts. As she sat next to Kenneth, she noticed that the eastern horizon was beginning to turn shades of pink. She could see it through a crack in the tent opening. The new day was dawning and still no Tate. She finally lost her battle against despair and she lowered her head, weeping softly as dawn began to break. The next thing she realized, a warm hand was grasping her fingers gently. Toby looked up to see that Kenneth was holding on to her, a warm grip the only comfort he could give. She squeezed his fingers tightly and wept louder.
“Do not despair, my lady,” he murmured thickly; the physic’s sleeping potion was still at work. “He shall return. You must have faith.”
She wiped at her eyes, unable to give up the tears completely. “But I am so frightened. There were so many soldiers….”
“I know,” he squeezed her fingers. “But he always finds a way to survive. He has since I have known him. But he has more of a reason to survive than ever before; he has you now. Have faith that he will find his way back to you.”
She nodded although the tears still fell. As she wiped her cheeks again, the tent flap opened and a tall figure entered. Startled, Toby wiped at her face quickly, turning to see who it was.
An older man in well used armor came into the weak light of the vizier, a timid smile on his face. He was a big man with dark blond hair that was graying at the temples. His clear blue eyesfound Toby where she sat next to Kenneth. When he saw that she was looking at him, he nodded his head at her.
“My lady,” he had a soft, deep voice. “I am Liam de Lara. I apologize that I have not had the chance to introduce myself before now. It would seem that you and I are family.”
Toby gazed up at the man; he was handsome and square-jawed. He was also one of the more powerful marcher lords with his family going back before the time of the Conqueror.
