“Go, now,” he said. “If I know my brothers, they will soon be on the move if they are not already. You have something they want. I suggest you take her and run.”
Kress didn’t have to be told twice. Taking Cadelyn by the hand, he made haste to the rear door that led to the kitchen yard, and beyond that, the livery. He could already see Bric in the doorway of the livery with Samson, waiting. As Kress moved to the door, Alexander and Achilles and Susanna came up behind him.
“Come along, Kress,” Alexander said, heading out into the yard first with his sword unsheathed. “You will have an escort to your horse.”
Kress could feel the unfamiliar tingle of fear in his belly as he headed out into the yard with his knightly escort. He wouldn’t have felt fear at all had it not been for Cadelyn by his side; his fear was on her behalf. People wanted her and he would die before he allowed them to take her. Achilles was on full alert and Susanna covered their rear as they moved out, all of them searching the yard as the shadows grew tall from the setting sun. The kitchen yard as a whole was purple with the fading light, with the chickens in their coop and the animals tucked away for the coming night. Everything was still as it should have been.
Or so they hoped.
The group was almost to the livery when they heard a strangled yelp, a cry of sorts. It came from the street on the other side of the building, an unusual sound that had their attention. A few more seconds passed and then the dog began to growl; that was enough for Kress to unsheathe his sword. The last time he’d ignored the dog, they’d been ambushed, so he wasn’t going to ignore the canine warning a second time.
And it was a good thing he didn’t.
Before they could reach the livery, men rushed into the yard from the south, and all hell broke loose.
The fight for Cadelyn of Vendotia was on.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The setting sunwas creating a lush and shadowed landscape as the de Shera army was deployed to make their way down to the other end of town where The Crown and Anchor Inn sat, preparing to shutter its windows for the night. Atilius had men lining the road through town, hidden in the shadows, and still more covering the entry on both ends of town. He had everything covered as he and Fabius, and several other senior soldiers made their way down to the southern end of the town.
They were moving with a purpose.
The street was dark as the inhabitants of the town settled in for the night. Smoke from cooking fires hung heavy in the air, mingled with the scent from the trees off to the east. It was still for the most part, making it easy for the de Shera brothers to move swiftly and unhindered down the street, staying to the recesses and shadows.
They were on the hunt.
“I can see The Marshal escort from here,” Fabius hissed into the back of Atilius’ head. “Do you see them over there by the barn?”
They had reached a small alleyway that was very close to The Crown and Anchor Inn, and Atilius followed Fabius’ finger to the old barn that was across the street from the inn, tucked back behind a house that fronted the street.
Indeed, he could see a few dozen men at least milling about, with a couple of big cooking fires that were well away from the barn itself. Men were cooking the side of something small over one of the cooking fires, perhaps a goat or even a suckling pig, and the smell of roasting meat was particularly heavy on this end of town.
“I see them,” Atilius said. “They have no idea we are coming.”
Fabius nodded, startled when Nesta suddenly rushed up behind them, wanting very much to be in the forefront of what was going on.
“My archers are trained on the barn,” she said. “If the men try to break free to help those in the inn, they will be cut down or, at the very least, prevented from leaving the barn. They are also covering the entry to the inn in case anyone tries to come out through the front door.”
Atilius nodded with satisfaction. “Excellent,” he said. “With my men covering the street and both ends of town, we shall make it plain to The Marshal knights that they have no choice but to turn over the lady.”
“And if they do not?” Fabius asked.
“Then we shall overwhelm them with our numbers and take the lady by force,” he said. “I hope it does not come to that. Let us see how intelligent The Marshal knights are.”
“Then we enter from the rear?”
“We do, indeed. They will not expect us to come from that direction.”
It was a sound plan, one that had not taken them long to come up with once they’d moved to the slovenly tavern on the other end of town to flesh out their plans. The stench ofunwashed bodies, vomit, and stale alcohol from that terrible place was enough to force them to come to the crest of their plans quickly.
Now, they were prepared to act.
“Then let us see this through,” Atilius said quietly. “We will need to head around to the kitchen yard.”
But Fabius stopped him. “What about that carriage?” he asked, pointing to the large, painted carriage that was directly in front of them, in between them and the inn itself. “Should we move that lest they try to take shelter in it? I noticed it when we came in the first time. It has Summerlin colors on it.”
Atilius nodded. “I saw it, as well,” he said. “D’Aubigney is allied with William Marshal and Summerlin is his garrison commander at Castle Rising, so I can only imagine the lady must have been brought north in that carriage. I see no Summerlin soldiers in town. Did you?”
