The Silken Cord Page 13

  She thought about Dafydd alone inside the castle. A child, all alone and undoubtedly frightened. Locking her jaw, she was determined to go on. A little swim would not stop her.

  Wulfgar stepped into the dormant waters and reached out a hand to assist Ariana. Securing one end of the rope around her wrist, she took his offering as she too waded into the cold depths.

  Jenkin brought up the rear, also holding tight to the rope. Ariana noticed his other hand rested on the hilt of his knife and she knew he would use it to sever the line if Wulfgar gave him cause.

  “When I give you the signal, you’ll need to take a deep breath. We’ll be under for a couple of minutes,” Wulfgar warned.

  Ariana nodded and he led them along the foundation. She inched her way, gasping as the cold wetness soaked through her woolen clothes. Within moments, they had to tread water. Wulfgar was tall enough to touch bottom and he guided her along, his touch comforting.

  She kept her mouth closed as the water slapped her in the face. The cold chilled her to the bone, numbing her arms and legs. Wulfgar steadied her and she felt secure for the moment.

  Dafydd slept somewhere within the keep. Ariana’s heart fluttered when she thought of holding him in her arms again. She would take him home and thwart Edwin’s evil plan.

  Wulfgar paused just below the drawbridge. Looking up, Ariana saw the small wicket gate, which the garrison used at night so they would not need to raise the portcullis. The dark shadows of the castle loomed overhead like hulking beasts and Ariana trembled with anticipation. There was great danger ahead.

  Wulfgar waved a hand, indicating they should take a deep breath. Ariana filled her lungs and clenched her teeth. They went under the water. She kicked her feet as she felt Wulfgar tug on the rope. She followed him, unable to see anything in the darkness of the moat. It seemed they were going deeper and deeper until Ariana touched the muddy bottom with one hand. Then, she felt a tug on her lifeline and followed Wulfgar under a rocky ledge.

  She shivered. Someone’s hand brushed her leg. Jenkin, close behind her. His presence gave her the courage to go on.

  She needed air and hurried. Her lungs would burst.

  Breathe! Breathe!

  Ariana pushed harder, desperate to take a breath. Still they did not come up for air and panic struck her with ugly force. She kicked her legs. She must go back.

  Pulling on the rope, she tried to turn. Wulfgar must have sensed her desperation for he jerked her forward. On they went until Ariana felt lightheaded and filled with doom. And then, they broke from the water and Ariana gasped and spewed as she clutched for something to steady her.

  She felt Wulfgar’s arms around her, holding her, pressing her cheek to his chest. She was aware of Jenkin beside her, breathing deeply as he also filled his lungs with air. Ariana could hear the echo of their gasps against the walls, but she could see nothing. Not even her hand in front of her face.

  Where were they?

  “There, cherie. You did well.” Wulfgar’s billowy whisper soothed her as he pressed his hands to her head and brushed the plastered hair back from her dripping face.

  “I thought…” she coughed, “I thought you would….”

  “I would never let you drown. I gave you my word,” Wulfgar admonished, his deep voice soothing her frayed nerves.

  “Yes, I know.”

  She felt him kiss her forehead, then her lips. She clung to him, relieved they were safe for the time being. His tenderness softened her toward him. The thought struck her that she should pull away from him, but she was suddenly elated to be past the water. She clutched his strong arms, taking solace in his confidence and strength.

  Now they must get inside the castle.

  “Lead on,” Jenkin ordered gruffly and Ariana was grateful he couldn’t see how she held on to the Norman.

  Wulfgar took her hands and pressed them against a ledge. She hung on to it, supporting herself.

  “Hold here for a moment,” he cautioned her.

  Then, he released her and she heard him scratching against the wall with his hands. Searching for something.

  His heavy breathing met her ears as he banged into the wall. She thought he must have kicked against an obstruction.

  Thump!

  She winced, fearing detection if the castle guards heard them.

  A sliver of light pierced their cavern. Layers of slate had been laid over a thin piece of plastered wood overhead.

  “Come.” Wulfgar beckoned to her, then pushed the slate aside with his hands. He pulled Ariana up with him. Dim light filtered down from above. He lifted the slate aside and raised himself so his torso was in a small cell, his long legs dangling down toward the moat. With the slate in place, the space was only big enough for a single man to lie down. A small iron grill was set above them and dim firelight flickered above.

  A fetid stench met them and Ariana pinched her nose, reluctant to take a breath. She clenched her teeth to keep them from chattering with cold. “Where are we?”

  Wulfgar clapped his hand over her mouth and shook his head, his eyes filled with warning.

  He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “A woman’s high voice carries while pounding would be taken for a distraught prisoner beating against the stone walls.”

  Ah, now she understood.

  Ariana tensed, prepared to be surrounded by guards. The grill gave way and Wulfgar slid it aside as he hefted himself out of the small hole and into a larger chamber. He pulled Ariana up beside him and Jenkin followed.

  It was then that Ariana realized where they were. They had come through an oubliette, a cramped cell-within-a-cell where unwanted prisoners were kept and often forgotten, left to die of starvation. It was only big enough for a man to lie down, but not big enough to sit up or stand. Cruel punishment, indeed. Ariana shuddered when she noticed a skull and bones lying inside the small enclosure. Wulfgar had knocked them askew when he’d broken through the false panel.

  Repugnance filled her and she looked at him, her mouth dropping open with outrage.

  “I never used it. It is a decoy. I built it with my own hands and placed the skull and dried bones there to deter prisoners from opening the grate and discovering the secret passage.”

  Ariana accepted this with some relief. She squeezed water from her long braid and looked about.

  “We are in the dungeon?” Jenkin queried with interest.

  Wulfgar nodded his dripping head.

  A cold, dank, and smelly place, the dungeon was made entirely of stone. A bucket sat in one corner with filthy straw spread across the cold floor. A single window no bigger than a man’s face was set high in the far wall. Dim starlight invaded the darkness. A torch in the hallway glimmered through the bars of the heavy iron door. As Wulfgar replaced the plastered wood and iron grill so the secret passageway would not be discovered, Ariana tried the door.

  Locked.

  Turning, she quirked her brows at him, unable to contain an expression of disgust as she whispered harshly. “This is your secret passageway? We are now precisely where Edwin wants us, deep in his stronghold, held prisoner in his dungeon.”

  Wulfgar hardened his jaw. “You mean my dungeon. Cynan will never be Edwin’s as long as I live.”

  “Lord Wulfgar?”

  They whirled about and stared into a dark corner of the cell. Ariana gasped when she saw a scrawny man huddled in a pile of straw, wearing a gray beard, his long hair filthy and shaggy. Slowly, he stood and braced himself against the stonewall. He tottered and Ariana thought he might fall over. His naked arms and torso were emaciated, his cheeks and eyes hollowed by hunger and privation. Wearing only a covering over his loins, his legs and feet were bare. Seeing Wulfgar, his sunken eyes stared at them with a slight twinkle. Strands of straw clung to his hair and he shivered with the cold.

  “Is it really you, my lord?” the man spoke in a voice that sounded rusty from lack of use.

  “Vachel? What have they done to you?” Wulfgar peered at the wizened old man with
disbelief.

  “It is you.” The man laughed and promptly began to cough. “My lord, it’s good to see you alive and well. I would come nearer, but I fear I’m not well. For a moment, I thought I must have died. I heard voices and thought I’d lost my mind. I should’ve known it was you.”

  He laughed again, a cackling sound that grated in Ariana’s ears. Then he shook his head, his eyes filled with sorrow. “I had hoped we would meet again, but not under these circumstances, locked in the dungeon of your own keep.”

  Wulfgar pulled the rope off his wrist and approached the prisoner. “Why has Edwin put you in the dungeon? What offense are you guilty of?”

  Shrugging his thin shoulders, Vachel gave an affectionate smile. “I’m guilty of loving you, my lord. Edwin offered me freedom if I would forsake you.” Vachel hardened his jaw, his eyes narrowed with loathing as he clenched his hands. “But I refused. I’ve served as your steward these many years, and your father before. I refused to swear fealty to Edwin and he locked me up. He feeds me only enough to keep me alive. But now I’m ill and will soon be free of his torment.”

  Ariana watched Wulfgar’s expression change. His eyes crinkled with sadness and his mouth softened as his face drained of color. Then he clenched his jaw with fury. He looked around the barren cell, at all the depravation Vachel had suffered. Stepping nearer, Wulfgar pulled the old man into his arms and embraced him as gently as a mother would her child. No words were spoken as Wulfgar closed his eyes, his brow furrowed. Emotion tightened his features with despair.

  Her heart squeezed. Surely Wulfgar could not be guilty of treason. He was innocent. A traitor would never care what others suffered out of loyalty to him.

  Wulfgar released Vachel and stepped back. “There’re no other prisoners? I thought Edwin locked up many men for as many offences.”

  Vachel shook his craggy head. “He uses the dungeon very little, my lord. When someone offends him, he just has them tortured and killed.”

  Ariana shuddered. So many of her people had suffered such a fate.

  “You should not forfeit your life for me, Vachel,” Wulfgar’s voice sounded hoarse.

  Vachel scoffed and smiled at the large man who towered over him. “My wife brought you into this world. I loved you every bit as much as your own father. That was the only reason Edwin didn’t kill me and be done with it. He found it amusing to lock me in here and starve me. He feared killing me would create a martyr and the townsfolk would rebel against him. As long as I live, they do his bidding, but they hate him. Whenever Edwin is bored, he comes down to taunt me now and then.”

  Wulfgar’s head tilted to one side. “Taunt you?”

  The old man did not have time to answer. Footsteps sounded along the stone corridor outside the door.

  “Mind the squint,” Vachel cautioned as he nodded at the tiny peephole set high up toward the ceiling in the wall by the door.

  Vachel plopped down on his bed of straw and hung his head in a submissive gesture. Dragging Ariana with him, Wulfgar flattened against the wall, directly below the squint. Jenkin also hugged the wall. They all held their breath.

  A faint light and shadowy movement crossed the squint and Ariana knew someone above was peeking inside the cell, checking on the prisoner. Hopefully, the angle of the squint wouldn’t allow detection directly beneath where Ariana stood with Wulfgar and Jenkin.

  After several moments, the shadow passed by as the guard left. Ariana let her breath out with relief.

  “How many guards are above?” Wulfgar asked as he stood over Vachel.

  “Perhaps twenty, although there’s only one lazy guard that keeps watch at night. I can hear his snores all the way down here. Your pounding may have awakened him. They’re mercenaries loyal only to coins. Edwin lives well off the fruits of your labors, my Lord. He squanders much of your wealth, I fear. The servants in the castle are yet loyal to you. Edwin is cruel and they hate him. I overhear the guards speaking about it. They await news that Raulf could find you at the slave auction and bring you home. You’re their last hope, my Lord. I believe it’s only fear of King William that keeps Edwin safe. Eventually, someone will murder him in his sleep.”

  “How do you intend to get us out of the dungeon?” Jenkin asked Wulfgar.

  Without response, Wulfgar went to stand before the solid door. Taking out his knife, he lifted his hands high above his head where a normal man would not be able to reach, and methodically began to dig the mortar out from around one smooth stone in the wall. The mortar turned to powder and dusted over his hands. It sifted to the floor as he worked, finally freeing the stone. Wulfgar pulled it free of the wall and reached his long fingers inside a hidden compartment. When he drew back his hand and opened it, Ariana caught the glint of a key resting on his palm.

  How shrewd. Wulfgar had planned this so well and she was amazed at his foresight. Who would ever guess there was a secret passageway hidden inside the dungeon?

  “So close,” Vachel gave a disbelieving laugh. “Had I known it was there, I would have made good use of it.”

  Wulfgar frowned. “The dungeon was never meant for such as you, my friend. We’ve come to take control of the castle and free Prince Dafydd. Do you know where Edwin is keeping him?”

  “Nay, my Lord. I heard one of the guard’s say King Rhys’s son was here, but I know not where the lad is kept. I suppose the upper tower would be the most likely place.”

  Wulfgar nodded in agreement. Then he went to stand before the old man who now leaned weakly against the wall. Placing his hand upon Vachel’s shoulder, Wulfgar looked down at him with fond regret. “I must leave you here for the time being. If the guards discover you missing, they’ll sound the alarm and set up a search. But rest assured, I’ll return for you as soon as I can.”

  Vachel’s gray eyes glimmered with hope, his expression one of complete trust. When he spoke, his voice was filled with conviction. “I’ll wait for you here.”

  Nodding his head, Wulfgar turned to Jenkin. “I don’t know what we’ll find above. If we’re outnumbered, take the princess back the way we came and help Vachel get free also. I’ll keep the guards busy while you see to her safety. It’d take time for Edwin’s mercenaries to discover what happened and you would be able to escape.”

  Jenkin nodded.

  Ariana stepped between the two men and raised her hands to place one against each of their powerful shoulders. Crinkling her eyes, she looked between them and gave them as stern a look as possible. “I’ll not leave without Dafydd. So while the two of you plan how to keep me safe, don’t forget my primary mission is to free my brother.”

  She walked to the threshold and stared at it, tapping her toe impatiently as she waited for Wulfgar to open the door.

  Shaking his head, Wulfgar placed the key in the lock and turned it with an audible click. He pulled gently and the door swung inward. Then he put the key back in its hiding place and set the stone back in the wall. A person would have to look carefully to notice the mortar had been chiseled away. If Vachel were strong enough to hold his breath, he could swim his way to freedom.

  “Once we’ve taken the castle, I’ll return and fill in the mortar, in case we need to use the passage again,” Wulfgar said. “Vachel, if for some reason I’m unable to return for you, you can use the key to escape.”

  Vachel nodded and Wulfgar cast a glance over his shoulder at Ariana. He raised his eyebrows as he gave a warning. “You go last, Ariana. If there’s trouble, you’ll return here with Vachel until it’s safe. Don’t be foolish. All of our lives depend upon our good judgment.”

  Ariana recognized the wisdom in what he said, but she had come here to find her brother. They were so close and she wasn’t about to leave without Dafydd.

  Her heart pounded and her hands became clammy with excitement. She shivered in her wet clothes, waiting for Wulfgar to go first.

  He stepped from the dungeon and mounted the stone stairs leading upward. There was little light and their dark shadows billowed across
the walls like ghoulish specters. Wulfgar moved silently, followed by Jenkin and Ariana. Vachel watched them go, then slid the door closed and peered at them through the iron bars.

  The three moved silently up the stairs. Ariana clutched a stiff rope railing, which had been strung along the wall for support. They reached the first landing and Ariana could see the squint where Vachel’s jailor had peeked down at them. They turned the corner of the dark passageway and proceeded up the next flight of stairs. As they drew near the second landing, Ariana could see more light coming from above. She swallowed heavily, wondering what they would find there. She heard no voices and thought for a moment the guardroom must be empty.

  Wulfgar slowed as he approached the chamber. Holding out a hand to caution them, he drew his sword quietly. Jenkin did likewise, and Ariana pulled one of her daggers from its sheath.

  Cautiously, Wulfgar slipped into the room, followed by Jenkin. Ariana peeked around the corner, prepared to fight alongside the men. Her ears were greeted by the soft snores of the jailor, who lay slouched on a bench along the far wall. Sound asleep, he had his mouth wide open, his hands folded over his rotund belly where an iron ring containing several keys was hooked to his belt.

  A candle perched in a tall candleholder sat upon a trestle table beside him. It cast flickering shadows upon the stonewalls of the room. Beside the jailor on the floor was an empty cup and discarded crust of bread. Ariana jumped and almost squealed when a plump rat raced across the floor, snatched the bread and scurried to safety through a hole in the wall.

  Lowering his eyebrows, Wulfgar shook his head and frowned at Ariana. She felt the color in her face heighten with embarrassment.

  Stupid girl.

  She chastised herself. She must be careful not to make a sound.

  To exit, they would need to cross the room. Wulfgar pointed toward the portal, which stood wide open, beckoning them with freedom. He then held a single finger up to his lips to warn them to be quiet.