the passageway. “Am I walking too quickly, my lady? This way, my lady. Thomas told me of a shorter route back to the hall.”
Madelyne lifted her skirts as she hurried after him. He was walking very quickly, but she could keep pace. They rounded a corner and suddenly, something dark and soft descended upon her.
Her shriek was muffled as some heavy cloth enveloped her, stifling her cries and tangling her arms. Madelyne kicked and fought, but it was no use. Strong arms imprisoned her, and the dark wool smothered her nose and mouth. The air under it became hot and close and she felt herself slip into nothingness.
Twenty-Six
The hours crawled by for Gavin as he paced in his cell. He’d been incarcerated for six days…and Madelyne had not been to visit him since the morning before, when he’d vented his anxiety and fear in such a venomous manner. Not that he blamed her for not wanting to interact with him when he acted in such an infantile way…but did she not know now much he longed to see her? How much he looked forward to her morning and evening visits?
He’d been a fool to speak so sharply, so spitefully to her when she’d done naught but treat him with warmth and understanding. Could he do nothing but drive women away?
He cursed himself and, holding to the bars, he pushed his face as close up against them as he could, trying to peer toward the right side, from which Madelyne would come. He missed the clean cloths and bowls of water she sent him every morn and night, and the bits of bread, meat, and cheese she wrapped up from her meals. Though he wasn’t being starved, the fare served him was little better than peasant bread and watered-down ale.
Suddenly, he heard a commotion from that direction, and he pushed harder against the bars. Mayhap she’d come…
But it was Clem and Jube who burst around the corner, with the guard rushing after them. “Wait! Halt!”
“My lord, she is gone! She is
Gavin’s world stopped. Everything went black.
“What do you mean she is gone?” he repeated, slowly, carefully…knowing that if he’d heard what he believed he’d heard he would surely go mad. Still, he kept his voice calm, low, slow. “How can she be gone when she is to go nowhere but with one of you?”
He gripped the bars, his breath increasing in speed, and saw the answer in their faces before Clem was able to respond. “She is gone? She is gone?” His voice rose and he shook the bars. “Get me the king! I must see him! Get him to me now!”
Sickness pitched his stomach and he felt the sweat springing to life all over his body, trickling down his back and face. “Take me to the king!” he commanded, staring at the guard, and reaching through the bars to grasp the man’s tunic. “I must see him!” He pulled, slamming the man up against the bars with a clank. “Get me to the king.”
He released the guard, who, with a terrified backward glance, rushed off. Gavin turned his attention to Clem and Jube, trying desperately to control the panic that screamed through his veins. “Tell me what happened, you fools! Where is she? How long has she been gone?”
Clem stepped forward, disease patterned on his face. “When last I saw her, ’twas yesterday morn when I brought her to visit you. I waited for her and whilst she visited with you, Rohan came to me with the message that Jube and Thomas required my assistance at the stables with Rule. He assured me he would return Lady Madelyne to her chamber.”
Jube glanced at Clem and picked up the story. “I received a message from Rohan that Madelyne would stay with Lady Judith last night, so I did not think to find her until after the midday meal, when she did not come to eat.”
“No one has seen Rohan and Madelyne since yesterday morn, my lord.”
“Rohan. He is the one.” Gavin spat the words, even as his mouth dried in fear. As he did in battle, he fought to collect his mind, to clear it from the dread that threatened to paralyze him. Calm and clear. He would remain calm and clear, for this was the most important battle of his life.
“Fantin has taken her to Tricourten, I would stake my life on it. You must go there, go after her…if the king does not release me… ” His voice trailed off. He could not conceive of that possibility…Henry must let him go. “You must go! Go now!”
Gavin paced blindly after they left. Would Henry come to him? Would he understand the urgency? He stopped and grasped the bars when he thought he heard the sound of someone approaching, but no one came.
He paced more, feeling the rising tension in his chest. His heart thumped crazily, his breath came faster, in short, sharp pants as he tried to keep from imagining what was happening to Madelyne…what her mad father was doing to her.
But he could not keep his mind clear, and the bile gathered in the back of his throat. He retched in the corner, sagging against the wall, pushing his fingers into his eyes to keep the tears at bay.
Clem and Jube had to take the time to gather their things and collect the other men-at-arms from Gavin’s retinue, and then they were off to Tricourten.
They traveled quickly, with one wagon carrying some basic supplies…and for transportation for Lady Madelyne, should they need it. The wagon would not keep their pace, but for the first leg of the trip, it would stay within a short distance.
When they stopped the first night, the wagon rolled into their camp only an hour after the men had dismounted. Clem and Jube sat with Thomas, Peter, Antoine, and three others around a fire on which a rabbit roasted. As he poked the meat with a stick to determine whether it was cooked, Clem saw an unfamiliar shadow emerge from the back of the wagon.
Bolting to his feet, he started toward it. “Who goes there?” he shouted, then stopped in his tracks as he recognized the deliciously plump figure of Patricka.
“’Tis I.” She stepped from the shadows, planting her hands on her hips, and Clem felt a wave of disbelief wash over him.
“What in the bloody hell are you doing here?” he stomped toward her, wanting nothing more than to wrap his hands around her neck…and squeeze.
“I want to help. I may need to care for Maddie…” her voice wavered, but she continued. “We do not know how she will be when we find her…and I couldn’t wait at Whitehall to hear from you. I won’t be in your way, and I can help.” Her hands remained on her hips and her chin thrust in the air.
“Woman, you are the most foolish, addlepated female I have ever met! You cannot go with us! You will return to Whitehall immediately!” He stuck his hands on his hips and thrust his chin in her direction.
Tricky stepped toward him, seeming to be unaware of the other men crowding around, watching the display. “And how will I get there? You cannot take me back, and I cannot go on my own. I will have to go with you, and Clem,” as she spoke, her brown eyes grew wide, gleaming earnestly in the moonlight. “I will be no trouble! I won’t slow you down, and I’ll do as you say…but I must go. Please! I beg you.”
Clem’s tongue thickened in his mouth and he could not speak. His insides had melted into a puddle, and he was alternately desirous of paddling the wench and tearing off her clothes. But of course, he could do neither. The blasted woman loved Jube.
Instead, he swallowed, coughed, and, when he heard a snicker behind him, turned to glare at the man who dared do so. “All right.” His words, gruff and short, were all that he said before swinging around to take his place by the fire.
At last, Gavin heard the sound of voices approaching. He prayed that it was the king…and his prayers were answered as the robust figure of Henry Plantagenet came around the corner.
“What is it that ails you, Mal Verne?” Henry bellowed, coming face to face with Gavin, with only the bars betwixt them. “You have been shouting the walls down here and nearly sent my guard to an early grave.”
