Page 34 of Knight of Havoc
Hawke cursed. “Who would be so bold as to take the lady?”
Reynard rocked back on his heels. “I may have a notion.”
“Well? Out with it, man. Who do you think abducted Lady Elysande?” Constantine bellowed.
“Morcant,” Reynard said, planting his feet wide.
“He is not that big of a fool,” Constantine said, shaking his head.
“You think not? Perchance you did not observe him whilst we were waiting for the tourney to begin. He had a smugness upon his visage that spoke to the idea that he knew something was up. He may not have taken her himself, but my guess is he had something to do with Elysande’s disappearance.”
“Hiring someone to do the deedismore his style than dirtying his own hands with the deed. I daresay he would have her removed to his territory—his lands are to the east near Stevenage,” Constantine stated as he pulled his tabard over his chest.
“’Tis north of London?” Hawke asked, following Reynard who headed in the direction of his tent.
“Aye,” Constantine answered before continuing. “I suggest we saddle our horses and ride together in that direction to rescue the lady.”
Reynard halted his progress. “You must know I will not allow anyone other than myself to wed Elysande.”
An unexpected chuckle left Constantine. “Then we best ensure we find her first so you can marry the lady.”
“You are willing to give me aid?” Reynard asked, surprised the man before him would give in that easily.
“If I cannot convince her that we would suit, then I will concede the matter. However, do not blame me if I give it my best effort once we find her.”
Somehow finding an ally with Lord Constantine was almost a miracle but he would take whatever help he could find. Although another argument ensued, Reynard convinced Hawke to stay behind in the event Elysande was returned. When Reynard caught up with Oswin, Blake, and Kingsley, they, too, agreed to accompany him. Richard, however, had his hands full in his attempts to tame his sister. For now, time was of the essence, and Reynard could only hope that Elysande had not come to any harm.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Elysande peered intothe darkness of an unknown room. When she had awoken from her drugged state, she had found herself gagged, with her limbs tied onto the arms and legs of a wooden chair. Frantic to free herself, she fidgeted in her attempts to loosen the ropes but that only caused the chair to tip over. She would have screamed in outrage if she had been able. Her hands were cramped, and her side ached from her current position.
How many hours she laid tied to the chair upon the wooden floor, unable to right herself, she could not say. When the door to her prison at last opened, the sounds of voices in the distance confirmed she was in a room at an inn. Which one and where, she could not say. But that mattered little at the moment whilst she silently glared at the man who entered. His laughter only grated on her already frayed nerves.
“My, my,” he cooed coming to squat before her. He took one fingertip and tapped her nose playfully. “You seem to be in a bit of a predicament, are you not, my lady?”
He took hold of the frame of the chair and easily lifted her back up so she was finally sitting up straight. She swore all the blood ran from her face once she was finally upright. He went back to the door, and someone handed him a tray. He held the platter with one hand, closing the door with the other and putting the bolt in place. He set a platter of food before her onthe table, and her mouth watered at the heavenly fragrance of a meal. How long had it been since she had eaten?
He went to the hearth and built up the fire. She heard more than saw him fidgeting with something whilst out of her vision. He came back to the table with a candle. The room, now well lit, did little to give her any sense of comfort. “Run down” came to mind as her eyes glanced at the worn coverings on the bed.
Morcant demanded her attention when he waved a knife in front of her face. Obviously, he wanted her for something, so she did not think he meant to kill her. If that had been his objective, she would already be dead on the side of the road.
“If you promise me you will not call out, I will loosen your hands and remove your gag. If not, you can starve for all I care. Do we have an agreement?”
Her stomach rumbled in protest, causing him to chuckle again. Elysande could only nod her head for an answer. When her hands were freed, she rubbed at her raw wrists. The gag came next, and she greedily reached for the tankard that had been set on the table. The ale was warm but she did not care. Her only thought was that the brew quenched her parched mouth. Once she had drunken her fill, her glare returned to her captor with all the hatred she could muster inside her whilst her legs continued to be restrained at her ankles.
“What is the meaning of this, Morcant?” she finally asked when she found her voice.
“’Tis not obvious to you?” he returned with a sly grin.
“Nay, ’tis not obvious, you fool,” she answered before she began to partake of the meal before her. He may be her enemy, but she would at the very least eat her fill before he decided to be less than civil and take it away.
Morcant shrugged, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms over his massive chest. He was a mountain of a man withbrown hair and eyes so dark they were almost black. In her mind, she likened him to the devil.
He continued to watch her eat as though he was trying to determine how much he would tell her. His deep voice filled every corner of the room as he made his confession. “I was going to lose. I saw no reason why I should not take advantage of the situation and steal you away so you would have no choice but to become my bride.”
“I will never be your wife,” she warned whilst she quickly reached across the table for the knife he had set down. But he was quicker and snatched the blade away, putting it in his belt.
“Tsk, tsk, my dear. I thought we had come to an agreement.”
