Tate began half-carrying him back towards the bailey. “You will get the bottom of your garment muddy,” Kenneth told her.
“It is of no consequence.”
“Do you want me to carry you?”
“Oh, shut up.”
Kenneth’s lips twitched while Tate just shook his head at the two of them. “If this is any indication of how the two of you got on while you were incarcerated together, it is a wonder you did not kill each other.” They were clearing the kitchen yards; horses were directly ahead and Tate went in that direction. “Can you make it back to camp?” he asked his knight.
Kenneth was supporting his own weight rather well for a man who had just been gored. He even removed his arm from Tate’s supporting shoulders as they made their way to the horses.
“I can make it,” he said, gathering the reins of the first horse they came to.
Tate helped him mount, but in truth, Kenneth remained relatively strong. Tate went to help Toby, lifting her up onto the very next horse. He was about to say something to her when a small man in dark robes emerged from the keep, waving his arms wildly. Toby recognized Timothy immediately.
“My God,” she gasped. “It is Timothy. What is wrong?”
Tate saw the young man as he descended the steps leading from the keep and almost tripped. “Who is that?” he asked.
“A physic,” Toby told him. “A friend. What is he doing?”
They both watched as Timothy raced towards them, still waving his arms crazily. He was shouting something they could not quite hear.
“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.
