Hearts in Cups (54 page)

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Authors: Candace Gylgayton

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BOOK: Hearts in Cups
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For a moment Blaise was
rigid with anger. "Find them," he snarled, and turned to scan the
nearest portion of the camp.

Not ten yards from
where the two commanders stood and swore, Ian crouched in the shadows and
listened to Blaise's curses. Dumbfounded, Ian's brain seemed to freeze as he
realized that the objects of the rescue were no longer here.

As he watched Blaise
and Brescom move off in the direction of the duke's tent, Ian felt a slight
pressure on his arm. Turning, he saw the huntsman called Gwalt gesturing for
him to return to where the remainder of his men waited. Cautiously they
slithered back, trusting the wind to mask any sounds they might accidentally
make. When enemy soldiers ran past, carrying wildly flaring torches, they lay
flat, hoping not to be seen. The others waited, spread out to take advantage of
what hiding places there were. Around them, they could see and hear soldiers,
no longer panic-stricken, joining together, reinstating a sense of order. It
was then that Ian noticed the wind's intensity lessening rapidly.

"We have to
retreat," he whispered to Gwalt and signaled to the others to begin
withdrawing from the area. Arain was nowhere that he could see. With great
stealth, each man fled from shadow to shadow in the general direction from
which they had entered the camp. Now and again, they would freeze as soldiers
passed by, waiting until they could move undetected once more.

They had painstakingly
made their way to the fringes of the camp when the wind abruptly died. An
anticipatory silence followed, to be broken by voices giving and responding to
orders and a dim sense of light heralding the coming of dawn. Turning to flee
back into the forest, Ian was startled to see Arain flanked by Idris, her
children peeping fearfully from behind the pair. Ian made to speak but the
huntsman raised a warning hand and indicated that they must seek true safety
before any questions might be asked or answered. Three of Ian's men came
forward and the children were boosted onto their backs. As the tramp of feet
from soldiers now hunting for them was heard at their backs, the rescue party
sought the cover of the forests.

 

In the full light of
morning Ian and his men, with their rescuees, sat beneath the towering conifer
trees on the side of the mountain and rested. They had marched continuously for
over three hours, taking turns with the children and two men dropping behind to
obscure signs of their passage. They had marched without talking, at first out
of fear of being overheard by those who might be pursuing them, and later
because they were too busy trying to pick a trail through the rocks and
underbrush as they began the steep climb back up the mountain. Now, they sat
breathing deeply and regarding one another with satisfied grins. No one had
been killed and only minor wounds were sported by two of the men.

Idris looked drawn and
tired. She had lost weight since Ian had seen her last summer and her face wore
new lines. Nearby, Arain sat and offered her water from his waterskin. The
children rested on the ground in the sunlight that found its way to the forest
floor, eating the dried fruit that their human packers had offered them and
looking at their mother as she sat talking quietly with Ian.

"When I heard the
commotion that was taking place outside of the tent, I woke the children and
helped them to dress. At first we thought that the army was being attacked.
When I realized that it was a storm that was making all of the noise, I checked
the front of the tent where the guards were stationed and saw that they had
walked away from the tent to see what the trouble was. I wrapped a shard of
glass I had found earlier with piece of cloth and used it to slit a hole in the
back of the tent. Once we had climbed out, we ran away from Brescom's tent.
There was a great deal of confusion but, when we got close to the line of
trees, two soldiers saw us and began to chase us. One of them grabbed Edwin,
and I stopped to strike him with my piece of glass," she paused, lifting
her hand to her eyes. After a moment she continued.

 "When I
looked up, this man was standing beside us and the soldier was dead at our
feet." A brief, warm smile touched her lips as she glanced at her rescuer.
Arain returned an easy smile of his own. "I grabbed Donal and he put Edwin
on his back and carried Emma in his arms, then led us away from that
place."

"We had quite a
shock when we heard that the tent you had been kept prisoner in was
empty," Ian said with a laugh. "Blaise and Brescom were most upset by
it."

Her dark eyebrows
pulled together in a frown. "You saw them?"

"Theyarrived
shortly after we found your tent. Fortunately, they did not discover our
whereabouts. Blaise's mood, when he was told that you were gone, was not one of
his better ones."

Idris' grey-green eyes
became troubled. "I only met him once in camp, but his arrogance was unbelievable."

Ian was about to
continue the conversation when the two men who had been masking their trail
came through the trees and Ian decided that further discussions would best be
carried on in the safety and comfort of the castle. Before Ian finished getting
to his feet, Arain was up and offering Idris his hand, exhibiting a proprietary
interest in those he had first led to safety. If Idris saw anything impudent in
his action she showed no sign, as she took his hand and went to help distribute
her children among the rest of the men. Eagerly they resumed their march
upwards.

 

Chapter 24

 

It was well past the
noon hour when a weary Ian turned around and with Alaric's aid closed and
sealed the iron bound door in the depths of Castle Lir's keep. The company of
men waited stolidly in the hallway, their young charges asleep in their arms.
Idris leaned against the wall, her eyes closed, with Arain still at her side.
He had helped her climb the last mile of the mountain to the secret entrance
and then supported much of her weight on his arm as they began the long descent
to the bottom of the keep.

"You look as
though you need a good night's rest," Alaric remarked to Ian, as he led
them through the subterranean passageways.

"Not a bad
idea." Ian stifled a yawn.

When they came to the
top of the last flight of stairs, Edwinna was seen bearing down on them from
the other end of a long hallway. "Thank all the gods that you're back and
safe!" She began clucking to them while she ushered them back into the habited
parts of the castle. "We have been dreadfully worried about you, my lady,
and the children, poor dears! Come, I have beds waiting for you, you look as if
you need them."

"Thank you,” Idris
said, mustering a tired smile.

Servants came forward
to take the drowsy children from the huntsmen. Owain was with them, full of
praise and questions. In answer to Ian's own questions, Owain reported that all
was safe and secure within the castle walls and that there had been no new
assault by the enemy. With a wave, Ian then sent him away, promising that a
long and full account of their adventures could be rendered after everyone had
been allowed to rest and refresh themselves.

Edwinna began to
conduct Idris to her rooms, but before quitting their company Lady Idris faced
the men who were responsible for her rescue. "On behalf of myself and my
children, I want to thank each of you for your help, without which I am afraid
that we would still be prisoners. It is good to breathe freely again."
With a weary smile of gratitude she finally acceded to Edwinna's wishes and was
marshaled down the hallway, her children carried in her wake. The keen eyes of
the blond huntsman who now relaxed against a doorjamb followed her until she
was out of sight.

"Arain," Ian
said, redirecting the man's attention. "Take your men to their quarters
and let them get the rest that they deserve. Like the lady, I too appreciate
your efforts. I wish you all to join us at our table for the evening meal
tonight."

Pushing himself
upright, Arain bowed to Ian and, with a friendly salute, took his men in search
of food and a place to lie down. Well used to the rigors of living in the
mountains, they were not unduly in need. The invitation to dine with his
lordship brought grins to their faces, both for the honour it conferred and the
anticipated savouriness of the food.

On his way to his own
rooms with Alaric still in tow, Ian inquired of Angharad and how she had fared
with her activities. "Her ladyship did all that she was asked, according
to Griswold, until she collapsed, apparently from fatigue. He escorted her to
the wall and, when she fainted, he carried her back to her rooms." An
expression of alarm passed over Ian's face until Alaric reassured him with the
information that Drimnor had been called and had taken care of her.

Thanking Alaric when he
reached the door to his own rooms, Ian then asked him to convey a message to
the swordmaster, inviting him to join them for dinner that night so that all of
their tales might be told at one sitting.

Inside his own rooms,
Ian unbuckled his swordbelt and hung it negligently over the arm of a chair.
The rooms were empty as he wandered through them. He had no doubt that Edwinna
would send word to Evan of his master's return. While waiting for his manservant,
Ian sat down in a chair and put his feet on a nearby stool, groaning with
relief. Leaning against the cushions, he was asleep in minutes only to be
awakened a short while later when he heard Evan's footsteps in the room.

"I beg your
pardon, my lord," his man-servant apologized. "I was just informed of
your return. I came to see if you needed anything. I did not mean to wake
you."

"That's all right,
Evan; I did not mean to drift off," Ian muttered. "Please have hot
water brought up from the kitchens now; I want to take a bath." As Evan
went to do as bid, Ian slowly heaved himself out of the chair and peeled his
grimy clothes off. His body felt stiff and sore from the unaccustomed exertions
of the night.

Once in the metal tub
filled with hot water made fragrant by an infusement of herbs, he let the heat
unknot his muscles. Afterwards, he had Evan pour several pitchers of very cold
water over him before he dried himself off. Feeling himself clean, presentable
and somewhat revived, Ian surprised Evan by donning clean clothing, evidently
preparing to leave his rooms again.

"Shall I expect
your lordship to be back soon?" Evan inquired gingerly.

"I don't think
so," Ian replied, flashing him a grin as he pulled on his soft, indoor
boots and stood up.

Leaving his quarters,
Ian quickly traveled through the castle to where Angharad's rooms were located.
The events of the last twelve hours were pushed to the back of his mind as he
absently greeted and responded to those whom he met in the hallways. He told
himself that he was not entirely convinced by Owain as to Angharad's condition,
and by the time he reached the outer door of her rooms, he almost believed
himself. Knocking on the outer door, he was flooded with a variety of hopes and
fears. Moira granted him access but was restrained by Ian from announcing his
arrival to her lady, as he preferred  to announce himself.

The door opened quietly
at his hand and he entered. The afternoon sun had been denied full access and
the room was immersed in a soft half-light. A window was open behind the
curtains, which billowed inwards admitting a fresh breeze. Stealing quietly
across the floor, in case she should be asleep, he was surprised to hear her
voice hail him: "Welcome home, my lord! Am I to take it then that your
expedition was successful?"

Coming to the side of
the bed he looked down to where she lay against the pillows. "Yes, we were
successful. Idris and her children are now within the castle's walls," he
replied. "And what of you? Alaric told me that you fainted on the tower
and had to be carried back. Is this true?"

Angharad felt herself
stirred by the worry evident in his voice and eyes. "I grew tired. Drimnor
gave me some more of his concoctions and I feel fine now." After their
parting last night, Ian had been a constant presence in her mind. For the past
hour or more she had been fretfully awaiting his return. Now that he was here
beside her, she was uncertain about what she should do.

Ian was also unsure of
how to approach her, a novel situation for him. Her restraint affected his
intentions, making him hesitate. She smiled tentatively at him and he began to
tell her of the night's adventures. Moving forward to sit on the edge of her
bed, he talked while she listened attentively. Soon it was clear to both that their
real conversation had nothing to do with the words that were being spoken. When
there was nothing left to say, they sat looking at one another.

"Angharad?"
Ian finally broke the silence. The cool, light voice was betrayed by the warmth
she saw in his eyes.

"Yes, Ian,"
was all she could say. She watched in shy anticipation as he removed his
clothes and slipped into the bed beside her.

"Come," he
whispered, "we have both waited long enough."

 

The debris of a violent
outburst of temper littered the Duke of Tuenth's tent. Having found no trace of
the hostages, only signs that they had effectively escaped, Blaise retired to
his tent and vented his wrath on the furnishings within. The men who were
assigned to guard the hostages had been ordered hung and now the angry young
duke sulked in his tent.

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