Page 44 of Knight of Darkness
“But can the castle afford another siege?”
Richard shrugged. “Who is to say? There were not many who survived from the last one. Any men left inside would be loyal to Stephen.”
“Traitors, every one of them,” Wymar spat.
“I agree and hence not worth worrying over if they should perish considering they have already betrayed our Empress.”
“Let us make plans for an attack,” Wymar said, slowly making his way to a table where maps of the area were already laid out for his perusal.
“You are still recovering and ’twill be days, if not weeks, before you are able to lift a sword,” Richard grumbled.
“I suppose that bastard Ratcliff still has mine,” Wymar cursed thinking of his father’s sword in the hands of his enemy, “but that does not mean I cannot see to the planning of laying another siege. I will get my lady out from underneath Ratcliff’s control if ’tis the last thing I do.”
As men began to fill the tent, Wymar sought out Ceridwen’s captain to better understand the interior of the keep. They may not have started out as friends but now they had a common accord to rescue Ceridwen.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ceridwen listened tothe muffled sound of a battering ram, knowing her rescue was imminent. She had etched out a brief plan to her captain and Richard to lay another siege to Norwich once they had Wymar securely away. Her hope had been that Ratcliff would be so preoccupied with what was happening at the barbican gate, that he might forget about her whilst she waited to make her escape. But breaking down the defenses of Norwich was taking far longer that she had thought it would. She was restless and tired. Tired of being held hostage inside this chamber with nothing to do but worry about what Ratcliff might do next. At least a fortnight had passed, mayhap more. He had already assaulted her mind on a daily basis with taunts of Wymar’s death. What more could he do?
Tears threatened to leak from her eyes when memories of his verbal abuse continued to wreak havoc with her mind. Ratcliff left no detail untouched as he described how his men had tortured Norwood. His laugh when he told her how he had branded the man with his mark had been pure evil and still Ceridwen held on to the smallest reserve of hope that Wymar still lived.
But could a man live through such torment if what Ratcliff said was true? What terrified her even more than anything else would be if Ratcliff finally lost what little reserve he had left within him and took her physically. She was unsure why he had not done so already. Heaven knew how often he threatened her. Mayhap he waited to ensure she did not carry Wymar’s child. She liked the thought of that, since it meant that with their lovemaking, Wymar had saved her yet again. Ratcliff could torment her mind all he liked. Ceridwen thought she could handle such an assault. But to submit to his touch? She shivered at the thought. She would only be able to fight him off for so long before her strength gave out. Unless the opportunity presented itself to use the knife she had managed to keep hidden and she stabbed the rat bastard.Thatwould give her immense pleasure!
But she could not rely on that plan when ’twas just as likely that he would get the knife away from her as that she would be able to stab him. ’Twas the one weakness, as a woman, that she could not overcome. With a sword in her hand, she could stand valiantly against any foe, but in close-quarters combat, none of the advantage was on her side. Pinned down by a man much larger than her, how long could she hold him off from taking her? Several days ago, Ratcliff had come to her chamber, his actions growing bolder as each day ran into the next. He had come upon her so quickly, she had no time to even try to take hold of the dagger she continued to keep in her boot. He had grabbed hold of her before running his hand under her gown to stroke her leg. But a well-aimed and unexpected punch to his belly had earned Ceridwen her freedom, though he still had continued to torment her mind.
Once Ratcliff had caught his breath, he once more forced his weight upon her so she could in no way miss his erect manhood straining at the fabric of his hose. “As soon those traitors who dare attack my gate have been killed, I will finally take you, my pet. Then I will have my revenge on you both. You can then ponder whether ’tis my seed or Norwood’s that shall fill your belly.” His sneer and laughter as he left her had echoed inside her head for days. She had been numb ever since. She surmised that this was the reason why Ratcliff delayed in taking her. Thoughts of possibly having Wymar’s babe brought her a small amount of comfort.
Lucky enough for her, the siege outside her gates prevented any priest Ratcliff might summon from entering Norwich, thus prohibiting any ideas of a legal marriage taking place. She did not see how a marriage between herself and Ratcliff would benefit him at this point, but she did not spend too much time worrying over it. His reasoning mattered little to her. ’Twas apparent, however, that Norwich’s own priest had been killed in the previous siege and she briefly mourned his loss and the other people of Norwich who perished in the last siege.
Now she prayed her army of knights would soon break through the keep door. She would not think of Wymar and what they had once shared. Time alone in this chamber had caused her to realize that they both had an obligation to their people once this was all over. She must see to Norwich just as Wymar must see himself homeward bound.
A key sliding into the lock alerted Ceridwen that the time was upon her to confront her enemy. But to her shock, when the door swung silently open, a young lad poked his head inside.
“Turbert?” she was surprised to see the boy of all people.
“Lady Ceridwen,” he said with a small bow as he entered the room.
“What are you doing here? You are the last person I expected to come through the door.”
“’Tis not obvious?” he smirked. “We have come to rescue you.”
“We?”
The door swung wider and her eyes drank in the sight of the man who seemed to fill every room he entered with his presence. “Aye,we. You did not think we would leave you to fight this alone, did you?” Wymar asked holding out his hand and not waiting for her answer. “We must hurry, my lady.”
“But how did you enter the castle?” she asked looking him over. As wonderful as ’twas to gaze upon him again, she was forced to admit that he did not look well. His face was ashen and beads of sweat had formed on his brow.
“The same way you sent the men to rescue me. How else?” Wymar said with a grin. “Ratcliff is too busy trying to defend the keep after the front gate fell—without much success, I might add—to look to the cellars for a weakness in his defenses… again.”
She placed her hand upon his shoulder and he flinched in pain. “You are hurt,” she surmised.
“’Tis nothing…”
Turbert stepped forward. “He should be back at camp recovering but would not listen.”
Wymar gave the boy a shove. “And you must needs learn to keep your mouth shut so as not to worry the lady.”
Turbert ducked his head. “Aye, my lord.”
