Darkest Knight (2 page)

The only good thing about rats was that if they were here they must know a way out, right?

Boy oh boy, wouldn’t Hattie laugh when she heard about this. Her poor friend. Jilted at the altar. Anna remembered standing there, in the bright lemon dress, watching her friend crumple. It had been awful. She despised Ben for what he had done, yet if he hadn’t jilted her best friend, Anna wouldn’t be here. How could you be angry and happy at the same time?

A week after the failed wedding, Hattie had popped over for a glass of sweet tea. As they lounged by the pool on one of Anna’s extremely rare days off, her friend slid an envelope across the table. Hattie had cashed in both tickets for one business-class ticket to London and insisted she go. Hattie was moving back to Indiana to be close to her family and would never think of England again without thinking of Ben. It had been their dream vacation. Anna would miss her terribly.

When Anna arrived in England, she swore the very air was filled with history and possibility. Who could have dreamed she’d be locked in the infamous Tower of London after hours?

Another door loomed in front of her. She tried it, and wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, but the door seemed to move slightly. With everything she had, which wasn’t much, given she was only five foot four, Anna leaned against it with her shoulder and pushed with every ounce of strength she had.

No luck. “Oh, come on. This is what you get for eating pancakes for breakfast instead of a healthy green smoothie.”

With a deep breath, she leaned back and shoved the door again. It gave way and she went sprawling onto the floor. She started to shiver but resisted the urge to look over her shoulder. Whatever room she was in, the air felt full of menace and anger.

It was almost six. The tower was closed and no one had found her. The room she found herself in was dusty and full of cobwebs. Not a single footprint to be found in the thin layer of dirt on the stone floor. Obviously there weren’t any cameras either. Otherwise someone would have come and found her and scolded her as they escorted her out. Or more likely had her arrested.

“I can’t be stuck here until morning. It’s beyond creepy.” Anna shined the light of her dying phone around the room again. “If there’s an axe murderer hiding in here or a ghost intent on killing me, I haven’t done very much yet with my life, so how about a pass?”

It was silly talking to the darkness, but it made her feel better. At least wherever she was the stone muffled the sound of the storm. As she was thinking happy thoughts, a moan made the hair all over her body stand on end. “Please tell me that was the wind.”

Anna felt a breeze coming from the stone near her head. As she ran her hands over the wall, something clicked and she fell through another passageway.

England—July 1331

“There is trouble afoot. We cannot go north now that the Scots are allied with the French. Who knows how long this war will be. ’Tis long overdue for us to find a new home. Make everyone ready to travel in a fortnight.”

“Too many are ill. They cannot travel now. Once they heal we will go south. Be wary. There is an ill wind tonight, John.”

He spoke sharply: “Do not call me by name. That name died with the man a long, long time ago.”

The healer pursed her lips and pointed to two men running as fast as their legs could carry them.

“A fat noble in a richly appointed carriage is trespassing though the wood. We could use the horses.” The man leaned over, hands on his knees, sucking in deep gulps of air.

The other man hopped from foot to foot. “I smell a large purse of gold. Perhaps jewels and furs. Shall we take him?”

John’s mood lifted. A prize was exactly what he needed. Thinking of war made him irritable.
 

“Lead on.”

A small band of men made their way through the wood, silent as the creatures that shared their home.
 

“My lord. ’Tis not wise to enter the dark wood. Many who do are never seen again.”

The noble made a rude gesture. “I am in a hurry to see my mistress. The path through the wood is the fastest route. Move on.”

The carriage jolted forward, the horses jerking on the reins. The animals smelled John and his men hiding in the brush. With a wave of his hand, chaos ensued.

“What have we here? A fat noble trespassing through my wood.” John pushed off the tree and sauntered up to eye his prize.

The man looked nervous, sweating and wiping his brow. “How dare you stop me? Let me pass.”

John didn’t bother to answer. Instead he nodded to the men, who made quick work of unhitching the horses.

“You should have listened to your driver. Fortune is with you this day. I am in a magnanimous mood and will let you live.” John eyed the man’s plump hands, the jewels sparkling in the sunlight. An ornate ring adoring every sausage-shaped finger. “I will take the jewels. Every single one.”

The noble spluttered and swore as he removed the jewels. As he handed them over he sneered at John. “The king will hear of this treachery.”

“Don’t forget the chest.” John inclined his head. “I care not what you tell the king.” He pulled the man from the carriage, tossing him to the ground.

“Let them go. Keep the belongings. The horses we will make use of. Sell the carriage.”

He turned to the red-faced noble. The fool carried not a single blade upon his person. How could he be so arrogant?

“Go now and I will let you live.”
 

The man opened his mouth then shut it with a snap. He trudged out of the wood muttering, the driver following behind.

Back at the camp, the men were in good spirits. ’Twas a good catch. A fat purse, a large trunk containing jewels and gold and many furs. John could feed his people and provide all they would need.

“Archie. Take the carriage to the Boar’s Head Inn. You’ll easily sell the carriage. Take three men with you to bring the horses back. I will meet you there later this eve.”

“Is that wise? The bounty on your head has been raised yet again.”

“Let them raise it. I will not live my life in fear of other men.”

The boy stood inside the door of John’s hut. “A message from Archie.”

John opened the missive and squinted to read the handwriting. Archie was barely literate, and he had a hard time making out the words. “Bloody hell.”

Magda appeared as he was striding across the clearing.

“Do not go out this night. Send one of the others.”

“I cannot. You know we have many sick with fever.” He patted her arm. “I trust you above all others to lead them to safety if anything should happen. We have discussed this many times. You know what needs be done.”

She threw up her hands. “I will not argue with you. It would be wiser to talk to one of the horses.” Her voice softened. “Promise you will take care.”

Minutes later he was riding for the inn. By now he knew every path through the wood. Moonlight shone down, turning the night to day. From a distance, he could see light from the windows. Riding into the courtyard, he called for the stable boy. John dismounted and tossed the reins to the sleepy boy. “I shall not be long.”

Entering the smoky building, he let his eyes adjust to the dimness. Archie relaxed in a corner with a well-dressed traveler. Not a noble, not a soldier, perhaps a rich merchant. John made his way through the crowd to the men. On his way, a tavern wench stopped him.

“Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Not tonight, love.”

She pouted and sauntered away. John faced the men.

“Archie. You should be abed.”

This man was pale and sweating. Perhaps he was sicker than John realized. As Archie pushed back from the table, the man next to him placed a hand on his arm. John narrowed his eyes. Something was amiss. Once more, he looked around the room. Small details he’d missed in his haste to check on his man fell into place. He noted the furtive looks, hands within cloaks. Cloaks in the middle of July. Inside the stifling room. His back to the wall, John frowned.

“Why?”

The man beside Archie threw off his cloak, as did others in the inn. The bloody king’s men.

“I took you in when you had nothing. Gave you a home. Family.”

The man tossed a bag of gold on the table. “For your service, Archie.”

“Gold? You betrayed me for a bag of gold?”

This man had lived with John for the past three years. He dropped his head, unable to meet John’s eyes.

He snarled at the traitor. “You are a coward. Mark my words. You will die for your betrayal.”

The well-to-do man beside him scoffed. “You’re in no position to be making threats, John Thornton.”

John’s head snapped up.

The man sneered. “Yes. We know who you are. Archie here listened very closely to a conversation you shared with Lord Falconburg over a year ago.”

The betrayal cut deeply. John didn’t bother to respond. He was too busy thinking of his brothers, and of Lord Falconburg and his wife. Because of who he had become, they were all in danger.

“You’re coming with us.”

John didn’t bother to ask where. For he knew. The tower. There were too many for him to resist. The king’s men shoved him into a barred cage set atop a wagon.

“Might I have the pleasure of your name?” John looked down on the well-dressed man.

“Don’t you recognize me?” The man stepped closer. He spat at John. “Whoreson. I am Lord Denby. Letitia’s husband. You shamed me across all of England.”

“Letitia came to me of her own free will. I did not shame you. You shamed yourself by whoring your wife to the king.”

Lord Denby’s fist connected with John’s nose, snapping his head back. Blood poured down his face. John spat the blood into the straw and laughed, as Denby cradled his fist, howling in pain.

“Our sire found favor with another. She only told the king about me to make him jealous. All of this was your wife’s doing.”

Then, before Denby could strike him again, John reached through the bars and pulled the man close. “You are a fool.”

He released Denby and stepped back. The short man did not notice John now held his dagger. He took aim and let loose. The blade found its mark in Archie’s throat and his betrayer went down with a gurgle. In time he would find a way to repay Denby as well.

“No one betrays the bandit of the wood and lives to tell the tale.”

“Seriously! This is getting ridiculous.”

Anna stood, brushing the dust off her jeans. Another room. From the looks of it, this section of the tower had been used to house prisoners. So therefore there must be an exit, right?

There were six cells in the room. For every one, she went in, checked for another hidden door, and moved on. The last cell on the right had a small window. Perhaps she could figure out where she was. Anna pushed up on tiptoe, and her forehead reached the bottom of the window ledge.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Normally her lack of height didn’t bother her, but today it was proving to be a complete pain in the behind. She jumped, straining to see out, but only caught glimpses of a dark gray sky, fifty shades of storm. Lightning arced across the sky and she stepped back, swallowing hard. A gleam in the corner of the cell caught her eye.