Dark Deceptions: A Regency and Medieval Collection of Dark Romances(147)

“That passageway that is next to the hearth,” he ventured. “Where does it lead?”

Chrystobel was watching the ground where they walked, careful to keep them both out of the slippery mud. “It is used by the servants,” she said. “It leads to the kitchen yard. Gryffyn must have been hiding in it.”

He looked at her lowered head. “And you did not think to tell me that there was such a passage where he may hide?”

She felt rather guilty. “It is such a common passage,” she said truthfully. “It never crossed my mind. The passage is used constantly so I never imagined he would hide there, but he did, and when I entered the hall to wait for you, he was waiting. He killed the soldier that was my escort and then tried to kill me also.”

Keller sighed. Frankly, he didn’t want to think what could have happened had he been a few seconds later into the hall, so he pushed those thoughts aside as he turned once more towards the commotion in the distance.

“So your brother and my knights ran through the passage and ended up in the kitchen yard,” he said. “That must be what all of the chaos is about. Mayhap they have your brother cornered.”

“Mayhap.”

The more they walked to the keep, the better the angle towards the kitchen yard. Keller could eventually see the wall that surrounded the yard and the open gate that led into the area, but not much more. Men were shouting and someone was bringing horses from the stable, which soldiers quickly mounted. They tore off through the gate and on into the kitchen yard.

“Where are my men going with horses?” Keller wondered aloud.

Chrystobel kept her focus on the ground. “There is a postern gate there that leads to the slopes beyond,” she said quietly. “Mayhap my brother slipped through it and they are going in pursuit.”

Keller turned to look at her, recalling a mention of a postern gate from their first acquaintance. “The same postern gate you used yesterday when you were chasing the injured rabbit?”

“Aye.”

Keller grunted, visibly unhappy. “That gate should have been locked and guarded,” he grumbled. “Someone will have to reckon for this mistake if, in fact, your brother was able to escape.”

Chrystobel didn’t say any more, fearful that he might become angry with her somehow. She continued to help him across the bailey, dodging the puddles and kicking away the dogs. As they neared the keep William emerged, his eyes growing wide at the sight of Chrystobel helping an obviously injured Keller. He rushed forward to assist.

“What happened?” William demanded.

Keller ended up leaning on the man heavily. He had been keeping his weight off of Chrystobel so he wouldn’t topple her over but found he could no longer suffer the strain. He gripped William as the man struggled to steady him.

“Gryffyn was in the hall,” Keller said. “He managed to catch me with his dirk. George and Aimery are in pursuit, over near the kitchen yard, I believe.”

“My brother stabbed him,” Chrystobel clarified since Keller seemed inclined to make light of what was a very harrowing incident. “He has a wound in his back.”

William gazed at Keller with great concern. “How bad is it?”

“It is bad!” Chrystobel answered for him. “He seems to think that he only needs a stitch or two, but it was a deep gash. He should rest today at least so the bleeding will stop.”

William was rather amused that Chrystobel seemed to be doing all of the talking, forcing Keller to stand there and wriggle his eyebrows in submission. In fact, it was a rather stunning situation because William knew Keller de Poyer to be anything but submissive. Yet with this woman, now his wife, that was exactly what he seemed to be. It was odd behavior coming from the usually humorless and rigid man. But, then again, the past two days had seen some remarkable behavior from him. Perhaps it was as William had mused. Perhaps, somehow, the man was learning to be human and the walls of protection were crumbling.

“Lady de Poyer will see to my wound,” Keller told William, “but I want you to take charge of the capture of Gryffyn. The man is deadly and needs to be dealt with. Put him in the gatehouse and await further instructions from me.”

William acknowledged the order but continued to aid Chrystobel in assisting Keller into the keep. The man took the narrow stairs slowly to the second level where several of his soldiers were still gathered to protect the door of Chrystobel’s chamber. It seemed rather useless to have them all there now, so Keller ordered them away, all but two, and the men disbanded. William followed them with the promise that he would send word to Keller once Gryffyn was secured.

Satisfied, but increasingly weak, Keller followed Chrystobel into her comfortable chamber where Izlyn was now sitting next to the fire, playing with some sticks on the ground in front of her. When she looked up and saw her sister and the English knight, she ran to the other end of the room and cowered against the wall.

“Izzie,” Chrystobel tried to soothe her sister as she helped Keller to sit on the bed. “Sir Keller is injured and I will need your help. Will you do this for me, please?”

Izlyn remained on the other side of the room but managed to nod. Chrystobel smiled at her sister. “Thank you, sweetheart,” she said. “Now, I am going to need some very hot water and clean linen. I will also need for you to bring me my sewing kit.”

It took Izlyn a moment to come away from the wall and, hesitantly, move to the big wardrobe. She pulled open the doors, revealing the neatly-stacked items inside; shawls, shoes, belts, and other boxes containing possessions. As Izlyn retrieved the sewing kit, Chrystobel began removing Keller’s clothing, very carefully. His heavy green and yellow Pembroke tunic was first.