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“I daresay it would have made your life easier,” Leif said, crouching low as he circled to his left. “But I prefer to complicate it.”

Rhiannon pulled herself onto her hands and knees, desperately seeking the strength to rise to her feet. Another shadow flitted past, and she heard Dai’s angry curse followed by a thud.

“Whatever your depraved objective, Viking, you will not succeed!”

“No, Dai.” Her feeble voice was lost in the vast space. She pressed her hand to her throat. It was wet. And not from the rain.

On trembling limbs, she crawled forward, following the muffled thuds at her right. Somehow, she must let Dai know that Leif and his companion were allies rather than enemies.

“’Ere, miss.” The stableboy darted out of the shadows. “I can ’elp you.” He bent down and grasped her injured arm. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she stifled a cry as he tugged her upward.

“I must find . . .” She took a ragged breath. “I must find Dai.”

Taking her hand, the boy led her haltingly toward the stalls. She could see nothing, but a few more grunts and some coarsely uttered Norse words told her the lad was guiding her aright. The crack of splintering wood brought the stableboy up short. Rhiannon stumbled into him.

“Dai! Stop!” Her faint voice was just loud enough.

“Come no nearer, Miss Rhiannon. Not until I have finished off this Viking.”

“No.” She sobbed. “He is come to help us.” Rhiannon had no idea how Leif and Knud had escaped the great hall, but she had no doubt their appearance was a direct answer to her prayers. “Cadwgan orchestrated Prince Anarawd’s murder. He kidnapped me and intends to kill you.”

Dai stepped into the light, a broken broom handle in his hand, his eyes guarded, his face glistening with sweat. “Cadwgan killed the prince?”

Shock rang through his panted words. But before Rhiannon could respond, Knud emerged from the darkness. Dai raised his makeshift weapon, and Rhiannon lurched forward to stand between them.

“Stop,” she begged. “Please. You must help Leif.”

Knud may not have understood every word, but he grasped her meaning. Offering Dai a heated look and a scowl, he backed away and disappeared behind the horses.

“It was not Cadwaladr?” Dai lowered the stick in his hand, a haggard expression on his face. “But his men were here, in the stables—”

“Cadwgan’s retainers wearing Cadwaladr’s colors.” She grasped his arm with trembling fingers. “There is no time to explain. You must believe me and go for help. The king, the prince, and their retinues are locked in the great hall. The key. Cadwgan forced me to drop it in the well.”

“Tegyn!” Dai called. Instantly, the nervous stableboy reappeared at his side. “Run to the smithy. Tell Gethin to take his tools to the great hall directly. He must remove the hinges on the door and release Prince Cadell and his men.”

There was a crash. Rhiannon started, and a horse whinnied anxiously.

“Make haste, lad,” Dai urged. The stableboy scampered away, and Dai turned his attention to Rhiannon. “You must hide, miss. It’s not safe for you out here in the open.”

He was right. And with most of her strength gone, she was of little use to Leif, Knud, or Dai. But how could she hide, not knowing whether Leif was . . . She refused to finish the thought. There had been noises—the slither of stealthy feet, the creak of wood, and the recent clatter near the door—but neither Leif nor Cadwgan had spoken since their initial encounter. And now Knud had seemingly vanished also.

“What of—” she began.

A few paces away, the mare snorted and skittered backward, her tail swishing high. Raising the broken stick in his hands, Dai inched closer to the mare. “Who goes there?”

Something clattered to the floor. Dai swung around, and a shadow materialized from behind the horses.

“Dai!” Rhiannon’s warning came too late. Cadwgan stepped into the light, the spade that had been in his hand already airborne. It hit Dai across the shoulders. With a moan, the old man dropped to his knees. Rhiannon staggered backward, but she was not fast enough. Cadwgan was at her side in an instant.

“It appears that we will be taking one horse rather than two, my dear.” Resuming his former grip upon her arm, he spoke through gritted teeth. “And we are leaving now.”

Favoring his injured leg, Leif inched around the two horses. Cadwgan’s knife had come far too close to causing serious damage. As it was, a torn hose and surface cut had distracted him enough to lose sight of the villain. It had cost all of them dearly. The old groom was on the ground, and Cadwgan had Rhiannon in his clutches again. Attempting to quell his mounting desperation, Leif scoured the darkness. Where was Knud? His friend had undoubtedly witnessed Cadwgan’s last move, as it had occurred within the candle’s glow. How would he counter it?

Remaining completely still, Leif watched Cadwgan. His sleeve flapped loose where Leif’s knife had caught it, but whether he had drawn blood, Leif could not tell. Cadwgan showed no obvious signs of discomfort as he dragged Rhiannon toward the horses.

On silent feet, Leif reversed his course. The stallion snorted, and Leif caught movement near the horse’s rump. Knud. The mare unexpectedly startled, skittering sideways with an anxious neigh. Cadwgan cursed, changing direction so as to avoid the animal, allowing Leif to arrive at the stallion first.

“I will take care of the horse; you take care of Rhiannon.” Knud’s soft voice reached him over the mare’s continued shifting. “That is the plan.”