“Nay, I would get her out. I know how. I would give her back to Thayer,” Robert whispered, seeing the last of his dreams of a life with Gytha at his side fade away. “She does not want me anyway.”
Grabbing Robert by the arm and shaking him, Henry demanded, “You know a secret way out of this place?”
“Aye. There is a bolthole. William showed it to me long ago.”
“Your uncle knows of it?”
“Nay. I held the secret to myself.”
“Then there may be a way to right our wrongs.” Henry looked at John. “Willing?”
“Aye.” John nodded, wincing when there was another cry from Gytha.
“But you just said,” Robert protested, frowning at Henry, “that we cannot fight those three.”
“So we bring in one who can—the Red Devil.” Henry nodded when Robert’s bruised eyes widened in understanding. “We slip out that bolthole and bring him back in through it.”
“It will be too late to help Gytha. They will have all raped her by then.”
“Nay, I will delay that.” Henry frowned in thought for a moment, then nodded. “Aye, I can draw their attention elsewhere without rousing their suspicions. I can only give you an hour, mayhap less.”
“That should be enough but we may find trouble as we go through the dungeons. There are two men on guard there.”
John smiled faintly. “If we cannot slip by them, I do have some skill at knocking heads.”
“But…” Henry scratched his chin in a gesture of thoughtfulness. “Will the Red Devil let you speak or kill you on the spot?”
“Nay, Thayer will not simply kill us. That is not his nature. He may get in a rage, but his men will halt him from acting whilst gripped so. Thayer is no murderer. He is a fair-minded man.” Robert’s words dripped with bitterness.
“Fine. Now, you get the guards in the dungeons to keep their eyes on you so John can slip up behind them. Secure them and secure them well. Then run for the Red Devil’s camp and bring the brute back here as fast as you can. I can talk a good game, but I cannot promise much time.”
As soon as John and Robert were gone, Henry rapped vigorously on the door. A loud curse told him he had interrupted Pickney. He hastily reviewed his ploy and decided it would hold for a while.
“Leave us be,” Pickney bellowed.
“’Tis important, sir. I would ne’er bother you elsewise.”
“Have my fool nephew see to it.”
“I mean no disrespect to the boy, sir, but I think this problem needs more than he has to give.”
“Curse it, and curse these fools,” grumbled Pickney as he scrambled off of Gytha. As he replaced his hose, he looked down at her. “It seems you must wait to know the pleasure a true man can give.”
A hundred vicious retorts crowded her mind, but Gytha found herself unable to speak. When Bertrand and Thomas eased their hold on her, she tugged her torn clothing back around her exposed body with badly shaking hands. As all three men turned their attention to the door, she edged away, huddling against the wall. It surprised her a little to see Henry at the door when Pick-ney yanked it open. She had not thought Henry a true part of Pickney’s group.
“This had better be as important as you claim,” Pickney snapped as he glared at Henry.
“I judge it so, sir.” Henry spared barely a glance for Gytha, only enough of a look to tell him that, terrified and bruised as she was, she had not been seriously harmed.
“So? What is it?”
“I believe I have found a weakness in our defenses. ’Tis big enough for a redheaded devil to slip through, I be thinking.”
“Then someone is slacking off, for I covered all points. I am sure of it.”
“So I thought, sir. That’s why I decided to come direct to you. Felt sure you would be wanting to see it and do any needed disciplining yourself. Aye, always best for the leader himself to tend to these matters.”
“Aye, so it is. Come along,” Pickney said, signaling Bertrand and Thomas to follow him out the door. “It sounds to me as if I will have need of you.” He paused to look back at Gytha. “No need to be disappointed, my dear. We will be back soon.”
