The Silent Songbird (Hagenheim #7)(72)

He would threaten Frederick’s life to keep Muriel quiet. Did Shiveley know of her love for Frederick and his for her? If he did, they might never be able to convince the king of Shiveley’s nefariousness.



After riding all day, Evangeline was not only desperate to get out of the saddle, her shoulders also ached from the tension of being constantly watched.

No matter how she tried, she had not been able to speak a word to Westley, Lord le Wyse, or Frederick, nor could she see that they had been able to speak to each other. How would they escape if they couldn’t devise a plan?

They were close to the castle now. In fact, the lane that led to the castle gate was just ahead. But instead of taking that path, Shiveley and his men led them around to the north side as they skirted the outer moat. Where were they going?

Soon they reached the smaller Derne Gate. No doubt the king’s men were guarding the main gate while Shiveley’s men were guarding this one.

As they drew near to the wooden bridge that led over the first moat, Shiveley suddenly ordered them all to halt. “Tie up these men. They are our prisoners until they’ve earned their freedom.”

They began tying Lord le Wyse’s hands, but Frederick fought back. Westley suddenly leapt from his horse and snatched a sword from one of Shiveley’s men.

Shiveley drew his own sword and spurred his horse toward Westley. “This one is mine!”

Westley struck Shiveley’s blade with his own, but then the earl struck a blow from his much greater height on horseback. Shiveley struck over and over, forcing Westley to take a step back with every blow as Shiveley advanced.

Finally, they were so close to the edge of the moat, Evangeline cried out, “Watch out behind you!”

Just then, Westley’s foot slipped, and he tumbled backward into the murky waters of the outer moat.

“Westley!” Evangeline jumped from her horse, but one of Shiveley’s guards grabbed her. She struggled against him, but he was too strong. She strained her eyes in the half-light of evening but could see nothing in the water, not even a bubble breaking the surface.

This was even worse than when he’d been struck and pushed into the river. At least she could see him and was free to jump in and save him. But now . . . He had disappeared under the water.

She recalled the tricks Reeve Folsham had taught her. She stomped on her captor’s foot, then elbowed him in the ribs. He made an oomph sound but only tightened his hold on her. He pulled her arms behind her back, so hard it made her shoulders burn. She screamed, but he still did not loosen his hold.

“Someone save him! Lord Shiveley, I demand that you send someone in to save him.”

No one moved and Lord Shiveley said nothing.

“If you save him, I will marry you! Willingly!”

“You will marry me anyway.” Shiveley chortled.

She glanced around to see if there was anyone who could save Westley, but Shiveley’s guards were tying cloths around Frederick’s and Lord le Wyse’s mouths.

O God, please! Westley was drowning!

Shiveley shook his head. “It is a pity. He looked to be a strong, healthy young man. But perhaps you will forget him when you are wed to me.”

She refused to even acknowledge Shiveley’s words. Except for the sickening twist in her stomach, she couldn’t feel anything.



Westley hit the water, his body sinking in the cold moat.

He swam under the surface, hopefully in the direction of the bridge. He’d drawn in as much air as he could before he went under. He even managed to keep hold of the sword in his hand as he swam.

His lungs were near bursting by the time he reached the darker water that he believed was shaded by the bridge. He took the risk of raising his head and bumped it against something hard.

Wooden planks. It must be the bridge.

He lay on his back. His mouth and nose were only three or four inches from the underside of the wooden bridge, but it was enough room for him to breathe.

Soon he heard horses’ hooves clomping on the wooden planks above him. Evangeline screamed, then the sound was suddenly muffled.

“Shut her up,” Lord Shiveley said. “Tie something around her mouth.”

“Who goes there?” A voice came from the other end of the bridge.

“The Earl of Shiveley,” another voice answered him.

Several horses crossed the bridge into the castle bailey. Was anyone looking for him? They didn’t seem to be. He waited until no more hooves sounded on the bridge. When he was sure no one was looking for him in the murky waters of the moat, he took a deep breath and dove beneath the surface.



Evangeline used her hands, tied together in front of her, to check to see that she still had the extra knife strapped to her thigh underneath her tunic. It was growing quite dark as they moved across the bailey toward the castle. Strangely, no one was around to see her, Lord le Wyse, and Frederick with their hands bound and gags in their mouths.

Lord Shiveley quietly ordered his prisoners to dismount. They did so, and he whispered to Evangeline, so near her face that she couldn’t help but smell his breath, “If you tell King Richard anything, I shall immediately kill Lord le Wyse and your beloved Muriel before the king can intervene. Then I will tell him you are delusional and will force you to marry me anyway. So I suggest you cooperate.”

He kept hold of her arm as they entered the castle and skirted around the rooms used by guests. They started up the stairs only used by the servants. Shiveley stopped her. “Remember, not a word, not a sound from you, or Muriel and Lord le Wyse will die.” He untied the gag from her mouth.