The bishop tapped his golden rod.
“Power has corrupted you.”
“You are not one to judge. Not after what you did. At least I will be forgiven for my sins. But you cannot receive any of the sacraments. You will die and burn in Hell.”
“I’ll see you there.”
The bishop glared at him. “I would take great pleasure in executing you.”
“Stand in line.”
Devdan took a deep breath. “All things in good time. I may yet have use for you.”
“I wonder if the Archbishop knows what you do.”
A cold grin spread across the bishop’s twisted lips. “Who would dare tell him? He would never believeyou.”
Someone had to stop him. Someone had to stand up to him. But he was careful. He never chose families who had money. He preyed on those weaker than him, those who were vulnerable and afraid, those who would give up a child to remain in good standing with the church. Maybe even an entire town made up of peasants like those in Goodmont.
“You know it’s true. Good. Guards!”
The men returned and laid hands on Richard.
“Take him to the dungeon. I will decide what to do with him.”
The moon shone high above. Thick shadows stretched throughout the forest. Mercy ducked behind the dense brush with Rafe.
She had gone to the church earlier, searching for Richard. She was afraid to enter the church; afraid the guards would go there looking for her. Instead, she had waited outside the church, hidden. Richard had not returned. Fear and anxiety gnawed inside her. Did the bishop have Richard? She knew it was foolish to go to the cathedral. Another possibility taunted her. Had Richard decided not to help her find Kit? No. He would never do that.
Either way, she vowed to continue alone. She would find her son. Still, she was worried for Richard. He would have been here if he could.
“We have to cross the valley to get to the castle. There is no place to hide until we reach the castle,” Rafe whispered.
Mercy glanced across the expanse that lay before the castle. Open field. “You don’t have to do this, Rafe. Just point to where the entrance is.”
Rafe shook his head as he stared out across the open field. “This is the easy part. There are guards on the walkways. They move around the castle. If we time it right…”
Mercy grasped his arm. “I mean it, Rafe.”
“I want ta help. I know my mum looked for me, too.” He gazed at her with such vulnerability that Mercy felt a tug at her heart. “You have ta come back. You promised to bring me home.”
Mercy nodded. “Alright. But I don’t want you going into the castle. Just to the entrance.”
“You remember what I told you? Which floor they are on. How to get there.”
Mercy nodded again. Rafe had gone over the layout of the castle with her until she saw it in her mind. “I remember.”
Her gaze focused on the dark castle, cast in moonlight. Through the crenels, she saw shadowy forms of the guards moving along the walkways. Her heart pounded. She was mad for attempting this, sneaking into a castle to steal her boy from a powerful bishop. Stealing her child back from a man who was not holy.
She could not sit and do nothing. And she would not end up like Abbey. Richard had given her hope.
Was she endangering Kit by attempting to take them all? How could she not? How could she leave any of the boys? She glanced at Rafe next to her. He had escaped. And he had endured more than she knew, more than he was willing to tell her. But there were others who had not escaped.
She would find Kit first. She would make sure he was safe. Then she would save the others.
“Now!” Rafe whispered. He lurched out from behind the bush and dashed across the field.
Mercy jolted. Rafe had taken two steps before she acted. She sprinted across the valley to the side of the castle. She followed his lead, huddling next to the cold stone wall of the castle. Stone piles lined the bottom.
