Page 303 of Historical Hotties
But they were missing one key player.
Rotri de Wylde.
That bad feeling grew worse.
“De Lucera,” Thor said slowly, trying to keep his apprehension down, “I am going to ask you one question. Your answer will determine whether or not I kill you where you stand, so think hard and answer well.”
Cristano sighed sharply and tensed, preparing for what was to come. “What is it?”
“Did you and de Wylde concoct this raid to draw me out of Stafford so de Wylde could get to my wife while I was busy fighting off the raiding army?” Thor asked through clenched teeth. “Does the fact that de Wylde isn’t here mean he has gone to Stafford and to Caledonia?”
De Lucera shook his head. “That was not the original plan,” he said. “But, as I said, the death of de Wylde’s son did something to him. Even as Domnall lay at his feet, Dordon was demanding your death. I suppose it is possible that he has gone on to Stafford, knowing I would kill you and knowing we had made a bargain about your widow.”
“Would it be fair to say that he has gone on to collect her?”
“Given how badly he wants you dead, I would say that is fair.”
That was all Thor needed to hear. He moved to shout to his knights, but de Lucera took advantage of the distraction and grabbed for his broadsword. The entire situation deteriorated into chaos again, but when Thor finally got the upper hand, he didn’t hesitate in doing what needed to be done.
De Lucera’s head went rolling one way while his body fell the other.
Before Thor drew another breath, he was running for his horse.
CHAPTER TWENTY
She wanted tosee her chicken.
That fluffy, soft chicken with the black feathers that had given her love and attention when no one else would. Even now, when she had plenty of attention and affection, Janet had not forgotten about her pet. She never would. She was deeply disappointed that the bed for her chicken hadn’t been made. Darius had been given the task, according to Jane, but he was unable to finish it before he was called to duty by Thor because of the burning village to the east.
That meant Mary had no bed.
Sleeping in the big bed next to a softly snoring Joan, Janet was very worried for her chicken. The fowl had always come inside to sleep with her when she shared this chamber with Madam Madonna, though Madam Madonna had kicked the chicken once or twice when it annoyed her. But, surprisingly, she’d allowed the chicken shelter in the keep.
Caledonia, however, did not.
There was a difficult paradox there. Janet had come to love her mother. Caledonia was kind and patient and gave her hugs and food anytime she wanted it. She even let Mary come into the keep during the day, when they were having their lessons,as long as it didn’t distract Janet from her learning—but at nighttime, Caledonia insisted that the chicken needed to go outside. Normally, that would have drawn Janet’s ire, treating her chicken so poorly, but because she had come to love her mother, she was very torn about what to do.
She very much wanted her chicken inside.
Tonight, she’d been expecting the chicken bed, and when it hadn’t come, she had tried not to weep. They’d had a lovely supper of bean stew with pork and carrots, plenty of bread and butter, and the milk that was left over when the butter was made. It was delicious. Janet had eaten until she could hold no more and gone to bed with a fully belly, but it didn’t soothe her longing for her pet. Long after Jane and Joan had gone to sleep, Janet lay there and stared at the ceiling, wishing she had her chicken with her. Surely Mary was lonely out in the yard, now without a bed to comfort her.
Janet had to see her.
The keep was quiet at this hour and she knew exactly how to leave without being heard. She’d done it before, especially with Madam Madonna around. Not that the woman had ever cared what she did, but Janet had honed her silent skills on the nun. With both of her sisters sleeping heavily, Janet climbed out of bed, nearly falling to the floor, and made her way out of the chamber.
Her mother’s chamber was next door to hers but the door was closed. That was the perfect situation for sneaking down to see her chicken. The door at the top of the stairs was bolted, so Janet quietly threw the bolt and opened the door. The darkened stairwell was beyond, and she made her way down, cautiously, until she was in the keep entry.
After that, it was simply a matter of slipping from the front door.
There were no servants around, which was fortunate because there was no one to question her. They were usually asleep at this hour, so Janet took advantage of that as she threw the big iron bolt on the front door and then lifted the wooden bar that braced the door shut. She pulled the panel open only to have it squeak a little, and she froze, looking around to see if someone had heard it and was coming to investigate. But the keep remained silent and, relieved, Janet slipped from the front door and down into the darkened bailey beyond.
*
“I have comewith a message for Lady Stafford. Quickly—admit me.”
The soldiers at in the lower bailey weren’t particularly wary of a single, unarmed man standing in the portcullis, but the sergeant in command did crowd up against the iron grate to ask some questions.
“What about the flames we saw?” he asked. “Were there raiders?”
