Castle of the Heart (24 page)

“Tonight,” Reynaud said, “I will write to
Guy, in secret, and tell him of my ominous fears. I’ve seen this
sort of thing before. This is the way the Welsh work, Arianna. They
cause false alarms and give us reason to post extra guards, and
then they do nothing until we are so wearied by sentry duty and
sleepless nights that we finally begin to relax. That is when they
move, and it is usually something sudden and totally unexpected. I
have confidence in Geoffrey’s military skills, and I know he sends
regular reports to Guy, but he will put a good face on events so
Guy won’t worry while he’s far from home. I believe Guy should know
exactly what is happening here. I’ll send the letter off tomorrow,
disguised in the normal coming and going through the outer gate,
and you and I and the courier will be the only ones who know of it.
Can you tell me of some clever lad who could get from here to
Adderbury quickly but without being noticed?”

“Yes,” Arianna said, after a moment’s
thought. “Benet, one of the stableboys. He’s a friend of Cristin’s.
He would like to be a great knight and throw all his honors at her
feet.”

“Tell him he will be honored for this,”
Reynaud said gravely. “Come to my room at first light. I’ll give
you the letter to pass to him. You must be my intermediary in this,
Arianna. Since I can’t ride, I never go to the stables. It would
look strange for me to do so now, and I do not want to arouse
anyone’s suspicion. Warn this Benet that speed and secrecy are
essential. If Guy is not at Adderbury, Benet is to insist on an
armed escort to take him to Kelsey or wherever else Guy has gone. I
will also write to the seneschal at Adderbury and tell him to
provide Benet with whatever aid he needs.”

No one commented on Arianna’s visit to the
stables later that day, nor on her quiet talk with Benet, since she
often conferred with him about plans for her and Cristin to
ride.

She had not misjudged Benet. He had felt the
tenseness and the undercurrent of fear that had gripped Afoncaer
for weeks, and he was eager for action, especially for something
that would bring credit to himself. He promptly suggested a
plausible excuse for his absence.

“I received word last week,” Benet said,
“that my uncle, who lives near Shrewsbury, is sick. Several people
know of it, so it won’t seem strange if I ask leave to go and visit
him. There are enough other stableboys to do my chores for a week
or two. Just give me the letter when we meet in the hall early
tomorrow morning, and tell Master Reynaud I’ll do my very best for
him.”

Arianna approved of this plan, and so the
letter was sent. After Benet left Afoncaer, the strange noises and
lights continued. Another inspection of the castle and village
walls was made, and again nothing unusual was found.

“Although,” Reynaud said thoughtfully, “it’s
hard to tell along the cliff. It’s so steep we can only look down
from the top of the walls, or up from across the river. The side
next to the stream is even worse, with all those slippery
boulders.”

“Which is why it’s safe,” Geoffrey told him.
“You built it that way.” And then he sent men over the side on
ropes to inspect wall and foundations, just to be certain, and
ordered a detachment of men into the forest to search for anything
out of the ordinary. Nothing was found. The noises and lights
stopped for a week. Everyone waited to learn what would happen
next.

Within the castle itself, tension grew daily
beneath the outward calm. Selene became more and more withdrawn,
keeping to her room most of each day. Though nominally in charge of
domestic affairs during Meredith’s absence, she did little, leaving
Arianna and Joan to plan meals and direct the female servants.

A fire began in the village one night. It
spread, and Geoffrey ordered men from the castle to help fight it.
Selene came out of her room to see what the excitement was. Having
satisfied herself it was nothing serious, and that Deirdre was
safe, she started back to her room.

“It is a fine night, is it not? A lovely
night for starting fires,” said Gwenefer behind her. Selene stood
still, held by the compelling note in that silky, quiet voice, as
Gwenefer continued. “I think, my friend, it is time for you to
repay me for all I have done for you.”

“What do you expect of me now?” Selene hissed
over her shoulder. “I’ve fed your cousin Cynan all the information
I could get. You have been sitting on the dais at every meal for
more than three weeks. Isn’t that what you wanted? Isn’t it
enough?” Selene was filled with loathing for Gwenefer, and for
herself. She was consumed with guilt every time she looked at the
Welsh woman, and yet she knew when Thomas returned she would take
Gwenefer’s medicine again, and keep taking it, doing whatever
Gwenefer demanded in payment. She would never bear another child in
blood and pain if she could possibly avoid it.

“You have only paid part of the cost,”
Gwenefer said pleasantly.

“What more can I do for you?”

“How generous you are to offer, Lady Selene,”
the mocking voice behind her said.

“Just tell me what you want and then leave me
in peace.”

“I want the keys to the postern gate.”

“Why?” Selene knew perfectly well that there
was only one reason Gwenefer could have for making such a demand,
but she needed time to think. This was horrible. She had never
imagined anything like this would be expected of her. How had she
become so entrapped?

“Perhaps I want to escape,” Gwenefer said,
joking into the silence between them.

“Then walk out the main gate. I won’t help
you any more.”

“But you will. You have already betrayed
Afoncaer, Selene. You betrayed your husband, and his need for an
heir, the day you decided to take my medicine, and you have
betrayed him, and the castle, each time you met Cynan and exchanged
information for more medicine. You would go on doing it forever, if
you could. What are two small keys against all of that?”

“I didn’t think – I never meant – oh, Isabel,
did you mean this to happen?” Selene’s voice broke on a sob.

“Be quiet, someone will hear us. Who is
Isabel?”

“Someone who should be here now, to do this
for herself.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Listen to me, you silly fool.” Gwenefer caught Selene’s shoulders
and shook her hard. “Stop crying! You are chatelaine of this castle
in Lady Meredith’s absence. You can go anywhere. Get me those
keys.”

“You promised,” Selene wept. “You gave me
your word that Deirdre and I would not be harmed.”

“If I said it, it must be so,” Gwenefer said
lightly. “Will you stop crying, or shall I slap you?”

“I can’t take the keys,” Selene whispered,
trying to regain some self-control. “They are in a locked box in
the wardroom, just inside the entrance to the keep, and there are
always men in there.”

“Tomorrow night,” Gwenefer said, “there will
be another fire, a larger one this time, and more men will be sent
out to fight it. You can easily distract the attention of any
men-at-arms in the wardroom by calling to them to come and see what
is happening. They will never suspect you. Slip into the wardroom
and take the keys, then return to your own bedchamber. I’ll be
waiting outside your door. You need not even speak to me. Simply
hand me the keys, then go to your room and stay there. Do you
understand me, woman?”

“Yes, I understand. You promised —Deirdre and
I—”

“I’ve heard what you have said, Selene.”
There was a movement in the darkness.

“Wait, don’t go. Why a second fire? What are
you planning?”

“Why, my Lady Weakling, you can’t think I’d
tell you Welsh secrets. You’d only think of a way to betray us
while trying to save yourself. Do as I’ve told you, and ask me no
more questions.” Another motion and Gwenefer was gone, leaving
Selene to stumble into her bedchamber, where she huddled in
terrified anticipation for the rest of that night.

The following day passed in deceptive calm.
Selene kept to her room, but that had become so usual for her that
no one remarked on it.

At sunset Cynan and a friend of his slipped
out of the forest and mingled with the folk who were returning to
the village. It had been a market day, and a larger crowd than
usual was pressing through the entrance, all hurrying to get inside
the gates before they should be shut for the night. Cynan and his
companion were used to making themselves inconspicuous, and thus
got into the village with no trouble, walking innocently by the
alert but overworked guards.

Just after dark, at the hour previously
arranged with their leader Emrys, the Welshmen set several fires.
While the attention of the guards on the wall and at the gate was
thus distracted, they hastily climbed the stairway against the wall
and overpowered the two men who were standing watch in the corner
tower nearest the stream. Then Cynan let down the rope he had
carried wrapped around his waist, and after the men hidden among
the boulders below had secured it, they used it to haul up a heavy
rope netting. They had barely finished fastening it to the tower
before Welshmen were swarming up the net, pouring over its top
edge, and fanning out along the wall.

They were soon seen; not all the guards on
the wall had forgotten their duty in watching the fire, and the
alarm was given just as a rain of arrows soared over the wet moat
and the wall. A good Welsh bowman could loose twelve arrows a
minute and hit a target two hundred and forty yards away, and the
men Cynan led had been practicing for years. They picked off the
guards along the front wall within minutes and then aimed the next
flight of arrows into the village. Meanwhile, the Welsh who had
made it over the wall and lived to reach the ground fought their
way through the village toward the gatehouse in the outer wall,
their goal to open the gate and let their comrades in.

Inside the castle proper, in the great hall,
Arianna heard the shouting and saw Geoffrey rush out.

“What is it?” she cried. Then, “It’s the
attack we feared, isn’t it, Reynaud? Come, I’ll help you into the
keep. Where’s Joan, where are the kitchen maids?”

“More importantly,” Reynaud said calmly,
“where is Selene?”

“She must be in her chamber. No, there she
goes, past the door to the wardroom. She must have been outside.
She’s probably going to Deirdre.”

“Listen to me carefully, Arianna. Find
Selene, and the two of you take Deirdre and Cristin and barricade
yourselves in Lord Guy’s private chamber. It’s the last place of
defense, and it will take a great deal to break down that
door.”

“Come with me, Reynaud. I’ll help you up the
steps.”

“Go now, Arianna. Obey me. We must allow no
valuable hostages to be taken. Stop in the wardroom and find
yourself a dagger. Be quick about it now. And do not hesitate to
use your weapon on anyone who threatens you or the children. Anyone
at all.” The urgency in his voice propelled Arianna out of the
great hall.

“Joan!” Reynaud shouted. “Ah, there you are.
Collect all the female servants and get them into the keep. Lock
all the doors behind you.”

“I will.” Joan ran for the kitchen, calling
orders to the women as she went.

Reynaud hobbled to the wardroom. It was
filled with men busily arming themselves. He scanned the room
quickly, then demanded, “Where are the keys to the postern
gate?”

“They should be in this box,” came the
answer. “No, the box is broken open, and the keys are gone!”

“Where is Geoffrey?” Reynaud asked.

“On the wall,” one fellow answered,
“directing the men-at-arms.”

“Go tell him the keys are gone,” Reynaud
ordered, and the man ran across the bailey toward the inner gates.
“The rest of you go secure the postern gate on this side.”

They understood the danger and would have
obeyed him for all he was no soldier, but it was already too late.
The small door in the inner bailey wall flew open. A single line of
men issued from it and headed toward the inner gatehouse.

“Seal up the keep,” Reynaud ordered. “Let no
one in save Geoffrey and his men.”

Seeing there was no more he could do and that
he would only be in the way of any fighting might develop, Reynaud
left the wardroom and made his way slowly and clumsily up the
spiral stairs, clinging to the stone newel post, winding around and
around on one leg and his crutches. It took him too long to reach
the third floor and his own chamber. When he did get there, and
looked out the narrow window, he saw by the light of fires and
flaming torches that the inner gate was open.

“They could never have fought their way
through those defenses,” he muttered. “It was treachery. Only
treachery could bring Afoncaer down.”

He barred the stout door to his room and
pushed his writing table against it by the simple means of leaning
hard on the table and letting himself fall to the floor as it
moved. Then he found his crutches again and pulled himself upright.
His precious books were in this room, and all the castle records,
along with the history of Afoncaer upon which he had worked so
long. He would not let those Welsh barbarians destroy them. He
heard voices outside the door. Someone banged on it, then went
away. He was certain the Welsh were inside the keep. They would go
to the lord’s chamber.

The only things more precious than his books
were the souls in that chamber, just above his, the two children
and Arianna. He could hear shouts coming from the spiral stairs and
knew he could never get to them that way. But there was another
route, one he and Guy had built with their own hands some twelve
years ago. Only the two of them and Meredith knew of it. Reynaud
made his way to the wooden shelves that lined one wall. He pushed a
heavy parchment scroll aside and his fingers searched for the
spring. It worked as easily as it had the last time he and Guy had
tested it, and the hidden door opened. The wooden steps concealed
behind the shelves went straight up to the lord’s chamber. Slowly,
painfully, and as quietly as he could manage on one leg and two
crutches, Reynaud began to climb.