Gart knew the answer to that. Dear God, he knew the answer. He began pounding on the door.
“Buckland!” he hollered. “Open the door or I will break it down!”
Christopher, seeing the commotion, tried the lock as if he didn’t believe Gart and David. Shoving Gart aside, he lashed out a massive boot and kicked the door. The old panel shuddered but didn’t break. Panicked, Gart began ramming his big shoulder into the door jamb.
“Emberley?” he hollered. “Can you hear me? Open the door!”
He heard Emberley scream his name and he froze, a look of such horror on his face that it was difficult to fathom. He looked at David, and then Christopher, before going wild and trying to kick the door in. But the heavy, well-built door stood strong.
“Emberley!” he bellowed. “I hear you, kitten! I am coming!”
David bolted to the kitchens, racing outside and shouting across the yard toward the troop house that was down near the stables. As he roused the soldiers, Christopher and Gart continued to try to break the door down. They could hear screaming and things breaking from the other side.
Gart was beside himself with terror. He was ramming into the door so hard that he’d managed to strike his head against it, drawing blood.
“Is there another way in?” he demanded.
Christopher shook his head. “Only this door,” he told him. “The exterior windows are too narrow to enter. The house was built so that each room can act autonomously if the manse is breached. This door can withstand almost anything.”
That wasn’t the answer Gart wanted to hear. He could hear more screaming and objects breaking and he was crazed with fear.
“We need something to break the door down with,” he grabbed the earl with his bloodied knuckles. “We cannot break this door down without assistance.”
David came barreling back into the entry hall at that moment. He had a battle axe in his hands.
“Here,” he tossed it to Gart. “Breach the door.”
Gart deftly caught the axe, planted his feet, and swung the pike-end of it at the door. Pieces of wood flew off but it was going to take time. Gart began swinging with all his might.
“I have more men coming,” David told them, breathing heavily from having run to the yard and then to the armory. “They are bringing axes and weapons.”
“She will be dead before they get here,” Gart grunted, hacking away at the junction just above the bolt. “If I can just make a hole in the door, I can get my arm in and unlock it.”
Above their heads on the staircase landing, they heard weeping. Gart didn’t bother to look up, but David and Christopher did. Emilie was standing there, sobbing with fear.
“What has happened?” she wept. “Where is Emberley?”
David raced up the stairs to his wife, taking her in his arms. He didn’t quite know how to explain that they had been duped by a madman, feeling sick and ashamed.
“It is all right, sweetling,” he held her close. “We will get to her.”
“But… she is screaming!” Emilie wept. “He is killing her! Oh, please, hurry!”
“Gart is moving as fast as he can,” David was wrought with terror, too. He knew they were all listening to a murder taking place. “He will save her.”
Even as he spoke the words, a great screaming arose from the room. Not only could they hear Emberley’s screams but Romney’s cries as well, his high-pitched howls joining his mother’s. It was a harrowing sound, pitiful and panicked. They were speaking as they were screaming, shrieking words that no one could understand.
Everyone in the entry hall was filled with anguish at the sounds, but no one more than Gart. He continued to swing away at the door, tears streaming down his face. He swung so hard that his arms nearly fell off but nothing was going to prevent him from getting through that door to Emberley and Romney. He could hear their combined screaming, the sounds filled with terror. It was destroying him.
And then… silence.
*
Emberley had beenmoving to one of the chairs with Romney while Julian meandered over near the hearth. As she sat in the chair, she looked up in time to see Julian throw the bolt on the reception room door. Before she could react, Julian suddenly brought up the fire poker he had picked up from his inspection of the hearth and brought it down on Father Jonas’ skull.
The priest never had a chance. He had been facing Emberley and Romney and never saw it coming. He fell to the floor, his skull split, and Emberley screamed with terror. Julian was suddenly running at her with the poker and she bolted up from the chair, running for her life.
“Gart!” she screamed.
