approached her, stopping near enough that she could feel the horse's heated breath. “Do you think me a fool, Lady Raina?” Rutledge asked, a glimmer of wry humor in his eyes.
Her refusal to answer seemed to further his amusement.
“I assure you, I am no more fool than yourself. And I trust you will understand why I must insist you be bound for what is sure to be a long and trying journey.”
The large knight crouched to grip her legs as the other man wound another length of fabric round her ankles. Raina glared up at Rutledge, hoping the darkness did little to conceal her contempt. “Nay, you are no fool,” she ground out. “You are a spineless, loathsome--”
“Bind the wench's mouth as well,” he barked, his clipped tone filled with irritation.
His men hastily complied, and in moments Raina was sufficiently bound and gagged. She scarcely had time to wonder which of the three men would be her traveling companion when Rutledge reached down to lift her under the arms. She cursed him through her gag as he hoisted her onto his mount to ride before him.
Then he spurred the great black steed, and within moments Norworth Castle and the smoldering village at its base were little more than a faint light on an increasingly distant horizon.
Chapter 4
The angered roar that shook Norworth Castle nary an hour later was enough to raise the hair on the necks of man and beast alike. Women gathered up their children and hied to their chambers as the baron received word of his daughter's capture. Even the castle hounds made hasty retreats to the corners of the hall. The castellan, the man whose responsibility it was to guard the keep and its folk while the baron was away, had dispensed of his dreadful news and now stood before his liege lord wringing his hands as surely as the baron would soon be wringing his neck.
But as shaken and enraged as he was, Luther d'Bussy knew this was a time for calm. A time for reason. He could punish the man for his negligence once Raina was safe, and he took some measure of comfort in the fact that he would. The crippling initial shock of her abduction had begun to ebb, and now he needed to act.
“Remove him from my sight,” the baron commanded in a low growl. With a glance, he beckoned his man-at-arms to his side. “I want parties dispersed to each corner of the land. I care not how many men it takes, nor how much time. I want my daughter found, and I want her found at once!”
The man acknowledged his orders, then turned to leave the hall to carry them out, passing Nigel in the arched entranceway. Nigel strode the length of the great room with haste and purpose, his blackened helm tucked under his arm. Soot and grime marked his face and hair, the acrid tang of smoke clung to his clothes, all evidence of the destruction Rutledge's men had wreaked on the village.
“The fires have been contained, milord,” he said upon arriving at the dais. “I've set the villeins to salvaging what they can of the fields, but I fear we have lost a great deal of this winter's stores. Most of the huts will need to be rebuilt entirely and I can only guess at the cost of--”
Baron d'Bussy silenced him with wave of his hand. “Enough. I'll not be bothered with an accounting of such petty losses.”
Nigel scowled. “Petty losses, my lord? Forgive me for saying so, but what this rogue has cost us is far from petty--”
“He's taken Raina.”
Nigel's helm hit the floor, punctuating a sharp oath. “Nay. Damn it!” He raked a hand through his hair and began to pace, agitated and nearly spitting with rage. “If the bastard so much as touches her, God help me, I'll tear him apart with my bare hands.”
When Nigel turned back to the dais, the baron saw the same rage he himself felt glittering in the young man's eyes.
“Why?” Nigel cried. “Why did we not see this coming? Where is the bloody castellan? I'll have his head!”
Feeling an odd sense of kinship with
Her refusal to answer seemed to further his amusement.
“I assure you, I am no more fool than yourself. And I trust you will understand why I must insist you be bound for what is sure to be a long and trying journey.”
The large knight crouched to grip her legs as the other man wound another length of fabric round her ankles. Raina glared up at Rutledge, hoping the darkness did little to conceal her contempt. “Nay, you are no fool,” she ground out. “You are a spineless, loathsome--”
“Bind the wench's mouth as well,” he barked, his clipped tone filled with irritation.
His men hastily complied, and in moments Raina was sufficiently bound and gagged. She scarcely had time to wonder which of the three men would be her traveling companion when Rutledge reached down to lift her under the arms. She cursed him through her gag as he hoisted her onto his mount to ride before him.
Then he spurred the great black steed, and within moments Norworth Castle and the smoldering village at its base were little more than a faint light on an increasingly distant horizon.
Chapter 4
The angered roar that shook Norworth Castle nary an hour later was enough to raise the hair on the necks of man and beast alike. Women gathered up their children and hied to their chambers as the baron received word of his daughter's capture. Even the castle hounds made hasty retreats to the corners of the hall. The castellan, the man whose responsibility it was to guard the keep and its folk while the baron was away, had dispensed of his dreadful news and now stood before his liege lord wringing his hands as surely as the baron would soon be wringing his neck.
But as shaken and enraged as he was, Luther d'Bussy knew this was a time for calm. A time for reason. He could punish the man for his negligence once Raina was safe, and he took some measure of comfort in the fact that he would. The crippling initial shock of her abduction had begun to ebb, and now he needed to act.
“Remove him from my sight,” the baron commanded in a low growl. With a glance, he beckoned his man-at-arms to his side. “I want parties dispersed to each corner of the land. I care not how many men it takes, nor how much time. I want my daughter found, and I want her found at once!”
The man acknowledged his orders, then turned to leave the hall to carry them out, passing Nigel in the arched entranceway. Nigel strode the length of the great room with haste and purpose, his blackened helm tucked under his arm. Soot and grime marked his face and hair, the acrid tang of smoke clung to his clothes, all evidence of the destruction Rutledge's men had wreaked on the village.
“The fires have been contained, milord,” he said upon arriving at the dais. “I've set the villeins to salvaging what they can of the fields, but I fear we have lost a great deal of this winter's stores. Most of the huts will need to be rebuilt entirely and I can only guess at the cost of--”
Baron d'Bussy silenced him with wave of his hand. “Enough. I'll not be bothered with an accounting of such petty losses.”
Nigel scowled. “Petty losses, my lord? Forgive me for saying so, but what this rogue has cost us is far from petty--”
“He's taken Raina.”
Nigel's helm hit the floor, punctuating a sharp oath. “Nay. Damn it!” He raked a hand through his hair and began to pace, agitated and nearly spitting with rage. “If the bastard so much as touches her, God help me, I'll tear him apart with my bare hands.”
When Nigel turned back to the dais, the baron saw the same rage he himself felt glittering in the young man's eyes.
“Why?” Nigel cried. “Why did we not see this coming? Where is the bloody castellan? I'll have his head!”
Feeling an odd sense of kinship with
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