friar’s. “You have a choice to make, Lady Claudia. Either you follow me down this rope with a gag in your mouth to ensure a measure of silence, or our good Friar Thomas here will see you over the side without benefit of either gag or rope. The choice is yours.”
Claudia didn’t care for either choice. Going over the wall meant hanging by a rope at least fifty feet above the jagged rocks that formed the base of the castle. She could scarce climb a stepladder without getting dizzy. Heights terrified her. On the other hand, so did the thought of Friar Thomas slitting her throat.
“Th-there is a bolthole. We need not climb down this wall.” She gritted her teeth together to keep them from chattering.
“Aye,” Thomas sneered. “A bolthole with a soldier assigned to guard that passage during the night. But you knew that already, did you not?”
Claudia stared at Thomas openmouthed as another realization struck. “You speak Italian. All this time—”
Thomas made an impatient gesture with his hand. “Only someone who knows your language could understand a word you speak in ours.” He turned to Guy. “The watch will pass this way again in less than an hour. ’Tis insanity even toconsider taking her with you. Let me make the decision for her.”
“I will cause no trouble! I swear!” She looked from Guy to Friar Thomas. The long dagger he held made her blurt out her decision. “I will go over the wall!”
Guy took a step toward her. “Give me your hand.”
She took an unconscious step backward. “W-why?”
His brows narrowed. “Never argue with men who would rather slit your throat than set you free, lady. Give me your hand.”
Claudia could not hide the way she trembled, but she extended her hand. Just as he reached forward, she snatched her right hand back and extended her left. She favored her right for most tasks and might not find herself so hampered if he intended lasting damage.
Guy made a sound of disgust. In one quick movement, he grasped the long sleeve of her gown and gave it a sharp tug. The sleeve ripped free at the shoulder and came away in his hand. “Turn around.”
Claudia stared at the sleeve he held. What did he mean to tear from her next?
Guy seemed to read her thoughts. He made a sound of impatience. “ ’Tis to gag you. Turn around!”
She obeyed the order, but soon rethought her docile compliance. With her back to the baron, it would be an easy matter to slit her throat, and a quiet task once he had her gagged. Her knees buckled and she gripped the tower wall to right her balance. The makeshift gag came down over her face. She tugged it off her nose just as he made a tight knot at the back of her head, then he spun her around by the shoulders to check his work. She assumed the curt nod meant he felt satisfied that the strip of cloth would keep her quiet. He kept one hand on her arm and all but dragged her to the crenel where he had tied the rope. He looked over the side, then leaned back to look at her skirts.
“You will break your neck,” he predicted. Before she could guess his intent, he drew a dagger and knelt before her.He grasped the hem of her gown and the dagger sliced through the fabric to a point well above her knees. He resheathed the dagger just as she gathered her wits enough to make a muffled sound of protest. “Thomas will lower you over the side of the wall. Get the rope between your legs before he lets go of you.” He turned to Friar Thomas. “Cut her throat if she hesitates. Cut the rope if she makes a sound on the way down.”
On that loathsome note, he stepped into one of the crenels and disappeared from sight.
Friar Thomas’s hand clamped down on her arm and he moved toward the crenel to watch the baron’s progress. His voice sounded distracted. “I hope you are stronger than you look, lady. ’Tis a long climb down, a sore strain on a lady’s arms when they have lifted nothing weightier than a needle.”
If not for the gag, she would have
Claudia didn’t care for either choice. Going over the wall meant hanging by a rope at least fifty feet above the jagged rocks that formed the base of the castle. She could scarce climb a stepladder without getting dizzy. Heights terrified her. On the other hand, so did the thought of Friar Thomas slitting her throat.
“Th-there is a bolthole. We need not climb down this wall.” She gritted her teeth together to keep them from chattering.
“Aye,” Thomas sneered. “A bolthole with a soldier assigned to guard that passage during the night. But you knew that already, did you not?”
Claudia stared at Thomas openmouthed as another realization struck. “You speak Italian. All this time—”
Thomas made an impatient gesture with his hand. “Only someone who knows your language could understand a word you speak in ours.” He turned to Guy. “The watch will pass this way again in less than an hour. ’Tis insanity even toconsider taking her with you. Let me make the decision for her.”
“I will cause no trouble! I swear!” She looked from Guy to Friar Thomas. The long dagger he held made her blurt out her decision. “I will go over the wall!”
Guy took a step toward her. “Give me your hand.”
She took an unconscious step backward. “W-why?”
His brows narrowed. “Never argue with men who would rather slit your throat than set you free, lady. Give me your hand.”
Claudia could not hide the way she trembled, but she extended her hand. Just as he reached forward, she snatched her right hand back and extended her left. She favored her right for most tasks and might not find herself so hampered if he intended lasting damage.
Guy made a sound of disgust. In one quick movement, he grasped the long sleeve of her gown and gave it a sharp tug. The sleeve ripped free at the shoulder and came away in his hand. “Turn around.”
Claudia stared at the sleeve he held. What did he mean to tear from her next?
Guy seemed to read her thoughts. He made a sound of impatience. “ ’Tis to gag you. Turn around!”
She obeyed the order, but soon rethought her docile compliance. With her back to the baron, it would be an easy matter to slit her throat, and a quiet task once he had her gagged. Her knees buckled and she gripped the tower wall to right her balance. The makeshift gag came down over her face. She tugged it off her nose just as he made a tight knot at the back of her head, then he spun her around by the shoulders to check his work. She assumed the curt nod meant he felt satisfied that the strip of cloth would keep her quiet. He kept one hand on her arm and all but dragged her to the crenel where he had tied the rope. He looked over the side, then leaned back to look at her skirts.
“You will break your neck,” he predicted. Before she could guess his intent, he drew a dagger and knelt before her.He grasped the hem of her gown and the dagger sliced through the fabric to a point well above her knees. He resheathed the dagger just as she gathered her wits enough to make a muffled sound of protest. “Thomas will lower you over the side of the wall. Get the rope between your legs before he lets go of you.” He turned to Friar Thomas. “Cut her throat if she hesitates. Cut the rope if she makes a sound on the way down.”
On that loathsome note, he stepped into one of the crenels and disappeared from sight.
Friar Thomas’s hand clamped down on her arm and he moved toward the crenel to watch the baron’s progress. His voice sounded distracted. “I hope you are stronger than you look, lady. ’Tis a long climb down, a sore strain on a lady’s arms when they have lifted nothing weightier than a needle.”
If not for the gag, she would have
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