back of his tunic. The servant was an elderly man with thin, graying hair and puckered skin.
Royce hadn't had time to dismount before Ingelram blurted out, 'This one's the steward, Baron. His name's Hacon. He's the one who told Gregory all about the family.'
'I didn't talk to any Normans,' Hacon protested. 'I don't even know anyone named Gregory. God strike me dead if that ain't the truth,' he added boldly.
The 'faithful' servant was lying, and he was feeling quite proud of himself for possessing such courage in the face of dire circumstances. The old man still hadn't looked up at the Norman leader, though, but kept his attention on the overly eager blond knight who was trying to tear his tunic off his back.
'Aye, you did talk to Gregory,' Ingelram countered. 'He was the first knight to take on the challenge of securing this holding and capturing the prize. It won't do you any good to lie, old man.'
'He be the one who left with the arrow in his backside?' Hacon asked.
Ingelram glared at the servant for mentioning Gregory's humiliation. He forced Hacon to turn around. The servant's breath caught in the back of his throat when he finally looked up at the Norman leader. He had to tilt his head all the way back in order to get a decent look at the giant, who was covered in leather and steel links. Hacon squinted against the streamers of sunlight that reflected off the armor and into his eyes. Neither the warrior nor his magnificent black stallion moved, and for a brief minute, the steward imagined that he was looking at a grand statue made of stone.
Hacon held on to his composure until the Norman removed his helmet.
He almost lost his supper then and there. The barbarian terrified him. Hacon felt sick with the need to cry out for mercy. The look in the Norman's cold gray eyes was frigid with determination, and Hacon was sure he was about to die. Yes, he'll kill me, Hacon thought. He said a quick Pater Noster. It would be an honorable death, he decided, because he was determined to help his gentle mistress until the very end. Surely God would welcome him to heaven for protecting an innocent.
Royce stared down at the trembling servant a long while. Then he tossed his helmet to his waiting squire, dismounted, and handed the reins to a soldier. The stallion reared up, but one hard command from his master stopped his budding tantrum.
Hacon's knees went limp. He fell to the ground. Ingelram reached down and hauled him back up to his feet. 'One of the twins is inside the keep, abovestairs, Baron,' Ingelram announced. 'She prays in the chapel.'
Hacon took a deep breath, then blurted out, 'The church was burned to the ground when last we were under siege.' His voice sounded like a strangled whisper. 'As soon as Sister Danielle arrived from the abbey, she ordered the altar moved to one of the chambers inside the keep.'
'Danielle's the nun,' Ingelram volunteered. 'It just as we heard, Baron. They're twins, they are. One's a saint, bent on serving the world, and the other's a sinner, bent on giving us trouble.'
Royce still hadn't said a word. He continued to stare down at the servant. Hacon couldn't look up into the leader's eyes very long. He turned his gaze to the ground, clasped his hands together, and whispered, 'Sister Danielle's been caught in this war betwixt the Saxons and the Normans. She's an innocent and wishes only to return to the abbey.'
'I want the other one.'
The baron's voice was soft, chilling. Hacon's stomach lurched again.
'He's wanting the other twin,' Ingelram shouted. He started to say more, then caught his baron's hard stare and decided to close his mouth instead.
'The other twin's name is Nicholaa,' Hacon said. He took another deep breath before adding, 'She left, Baron.'
Royce didn't show any reaction to this news. Ingelram, on the other hand, couldn't contain his disappointment. 'How could she have left?' he demanded in another shout as he shoved the old man back to his knees.
'There are many secret passages built into the thick walls of the keep,' Hacon confessed. 'Didn't you notice there weren't any Saxon soldiers here when you crossed over the drawbridge? Mistress Nicholaa left with her brother's men near to an hour past.'
Ingelram bellowed in frustration. In a bid to ease his anger, he shoved the servant again.
Royce took a step forward, his stare directed at his vassal. 'You do not show me your strength when you mistreat a defenseless old man, Ingelram, nor do you show me your ability to control your enthusiasm when you interfere with my questioning.'
The vassal was properly humiliated. He bowed his head to his baron, then helped the Saxon to his feet.
Royce waited until the young soldier had taken a step away from the servant. He then looked at Hacon again. 'How long have you served this household?'
'Near to twenty years now,' Hacon answered. There was pride in his voice when he added, 'I've always been treated fair, Baron. They made me feel as important as one of their own.'
'Yet after twenty years of fair treatment you betray your mistresses now?' He shook his head in disgust.
'You won't give me your pledge of loyalty, Hacon, for your word isn't trustworthy.'
Royce didn't waste another minute on the steward. His stride was determined as he made his way to the doors of the keep. He pushed his eager men out of his path and went inside.
Hacon was motioned into the cluster of servants and left to worry about his fate when Ingelram rushed after his lord.
Royce was methodical in his search. The first floor of the keep was cluttered with rubble. Litter covered the old rushes. The long table near the far corner had been overturned, and most of the stools had been destroyed.
The staircase leading to the chambers abovestairs was still intact, though just barely. The wooden steps were slippery with water dripping down from the walls. It was a dangerously narrow climb. Most of the banister had been torn away and dangled over the side, and if a man lost his footing, there was nothing to prevent him from falling.
The landing on the second level was just as pitiful. Wind howled through a gaping man-sized hole in the center of the far wall. The air was bitter from the cold winter wind blowing in from outside. A long, dark corridor led away from the head of the stairs.
As soon as Royce reached the landing, Ingelram rushed ahead of him and awkwardly drew his sword. The vassal obviously meant to protect his lord. The floorboards were just as wet and slippery as the steps, however. Ingelram lost both his sword and his balance and went flying toward the gaping hole.
Royce caught him by the nape of the neck and sent him flying in the opposite direction. The vassal landed with a thud against the inside wall, shook himself like a wet dog to rid himself of the shivers, then picked up his sword and went chasing after his lord again.
Royce shook his head in exasperation at his inept vassal's puny attempt to protect him. He didn't bother to draw his own sword as he started down the hallway. When he reached the first chamber and found the door barred against him, he simply kicked it open, ducked under the low lintel, and went inside.
The room was a bedchamber in which six candles were burning. It was unoccupied save for a serving girl who cowered in a corner.
'Who resides in this chamber?' Royce demanded.
'Mistress Nicholaa,' came the whispered reply.
Royce took his time studying the room. He was mildly surprised at how Spartan and orderly the chamber was. He didn't realize women could live without a clutter of possessions surrounding them. His experience was limited to his three sisters, of course, but that was quite enough to allow him to draw such a conclusion. Still, Lady Nicholaa's room didn't have a bit of clutter. A large bed stood against one wall, its burgundy draperies tied back. The hearth was on the opposite wall. A single low-fashioned chest made of fine, burnish red wood stood in a corner.
There wasn't a single article of clothing hanging from the hooks to give Royce any idea of the woman's size. He turned to leave the chamber, but found his path blocked by his vassal. A glare quickly removed the obstacle.
The second door was also barred from inside. Royce was about to kick it out of his way when he heard the sound of the latch being removed.
