Guy scowled. Age was a far more sensitive issue than height, and Adrian was a dozen years younger. He shouted, "I have had second thoughts about trusting your honor, so I've decided to carry on our discussion from up here!"
Another insult. Once more Adrian turned it with the comment, "Far be it from me to force a man beyond the limits of his courage."
Even at this distance, Guy's flush of anger was clearly visible. He was many things, but never a coward.
Seeing Burgoigne's expression, Adrian reminded himself sharply that he was not here to bandy insults. Guy's mind might not be the quickest, but he had the power to hurt Meriel, and the angrier he was, the greater the risk to her. "Let us waste no more time, Burgoigne. You say you have my wife. Prove it! Show me that she is alive and well, or we have nothing to talk about."
Guy's expression eased with the knowledge that he was in control. "I had thought you would ask that," he replied, then gestured to someone below him.
Within a minute, two more people came up onto the wall walk. One was a man-at-arms, his hand clasping the upper arm of a slight, blindfolded woman whose hands were tied behind her back. Meriel, her black braids falling over her shoulders and an oversize gown billowing around her slim form. Beside him Alan drew a shaky breath, his relief as palpable as Adrian's own.
Shading his eyes with one hand, Adrian stared, hungry for the sight of her. Meriel did not move like someone who had been injured or tortured, but his lips tightened when he saw that the blindfold had been arranged to cover her ears as well as her eyes so she could neither hear nor see. It was a pointless cruelty on Guy's part, and Adrian marked it as another crime that must be answered for in the final reckoning.
Guy said something inaudible. Then, to Adrian's horror, the guard put his hands around Meriel's waist and lifted her from the wall walk into one of the battlement embrasures. Her balance distorted by blindfold and bound hands, she swayed forward between the merlons and almost pitched off the wall.
Adrian's vision dimmed around the edges, and he took an involuntary step forward only to be jerked to a halt when Richard grabbed his elbow. "Restrain yourself," his brother snapped under his breath. "You can do nothing, and it will merely confirm for Guy what she means to you."
As the man-at-arms caught and steadied Meriel, Adrian reestablished a fragile control over himself. His heart ached as he wondered if she thought she had been brought to the wall to be hurled down to her death. But if she felt fear, she showed no sign of it. She stood erect against the wind, her chin held high as the fabric of her gown snapped around her.
He saw that Richard had also gripped Alan, whose reaction had been much like Adrian's. Thank God one of them could keep a cool head.
Raising his voice, Adrian said, "Very well, you have captured my wife. What ransom are you asking?"
Guy gave an unpleasant smile, exulting in the power that was in his hands. "Are you so besotted a new husband that you will pay any price I ask?"
"I won't know until you ask it, Burgoigne," Adrian said, feigning indifference. Alan shifted restively, but he was intelligent enough to recognize the principles of bargaining in spite of his anger.
Meriel's guard lifted her from the wall, then escorted her from sight. His voice full of malice, Guy said, "I wondered at first why you married her, but I've learned the reason in the last few days. My God, she's a hot little minx, Warfield, she kept begging me for more and more. If I don't send her home soon, she may wear me out." He laughed nastily. "Of course, she may not be like that with you. She told me her marriage bed has been a grave disappointment."
Richard made a warning sound, but his concern was unnecessary. Though it took every shred of willpower he possessed, Adrian showed no reaction to the other man's taunts. In truth, the insult to his masculinity bothered him not at all. What he found unbearable was the likelihood that Burgoigne had raped Meriel, perhaps repeatedly. May God forgive me, ma petite, for what has befallen you, Adrian thought with anguish.
What he said aloud was, "By your actions you are diminishing her value, Burgoigne," a note of boredom in his voice. "Will you stop wasting time and tell me what ransom you have in mind?"
This was the moment Guy had been waiting for, and he drew out the syllables in a hiss as he said, "Shrewsbury."
Adrian sucked his breath in with surprise, but Burgoigne was not finished.
"I also want Warfield Castle." He drew another breath, then ended, "And Montford Castle, and all the lands belonging to each."
Adrian could feel Richard's flinch at the last. Ignoring everything but the mocking figure of Burgoigne, Adrian replied, "Wives are easily come by. Did you seriously think I would hand over everything I possess in return for a woman?"
"Oh, I'm not asking for everything," Guy said jovially. "That would be an unchivalrous thing to do to a fellow nobleman. You may retain the keep and demesne of Cheston, plus those manors you hold in other shires. That's more land than you started with a dozen years ago. Perhaps in time you will parley it into another fortune."
Adrian shrugged. "I am willing to pay a substantial ransom in gold, the same as if the woman was a captured baron, but you're mad if you think I will hand my half of Shropshire over to you. Send a message when you are ready to talk seriously." He turned and began walking to his horse.
Furiously Guy shouted, "I am talking seriously, Warfield! You have twenty-four hours to think about what I have said. Then I will return part of your wife to you as earnest of how serious I am. One of her fingers, perhaps." He stopped, then continued with glee, "No, one of her pretty little breasts would be better. Will that convince you?"
Adrian had the same sensation of blurring that he'd felt when Meriel had teetered on the wall. It was the feeling that heralded one of his berserker rages, and if Guy had been down at this level he would be a dead man.
Instead, Adrian said with as much unconcern as he could muster, "I will be back here tomorrow at the same time, to see if you are ready to ask a reasonable price. I can offer you quite a lot of gold, but if my wife is dead—or even disfigured—she is worth nothing. Remember that between now and the time we talk again."
Then he swung up on his horse, his hands trembling with the force of his suppressed emotions. If he allowed Guy to know just how much Meriel meant to him, the situation was doomed.
Grim-faced, Richard and Alan also mounted, and they rode away together, the squires behind them. Except for Alan's low, steady stream of oaths, they traveled in absolute silence.
* * *
It took only a few minutes to reach the house Adrian had made their headquarters because it was the largest in the village. Leaving the horses to the squires, the three knights went inside.
Richard crossed to the table where a flagon and several goblets stood. Splashing some of the contents in two of the goblets, he handed one each to Adrian and Alan. "I thought we might need something like this after talking with Burgoigne," he said dryly. "Drink up. You both look like death."
Alan obeyed automatically, then almost choked on the unexpected fierceness of distilled spirits. "God's blood," he muttered, staring at the cup. Then he took another gulp.
The earl sipped a little, then slumped in the room's only chair. One elbow was propped on the wooden arm and his raised hand obscured his face. Perhaps he was thinking, perhaps merely succumbing to the same black rage that threatened Alan.
Turning his ire to Richard, who was drinking more slowly, Alan snapped, "Easy for you not to care what happens to Meriel. In fact, I should think you will be delighted if your brother's wife is murdered or, better yet, imprisoned for the rest of her life so he can't marry again."
Richard slammed his goblet down on the table, a dangerous flash in his eyes, but before he could speak, Adrian's voice cut across the room. "Don't be a damned fool, Alan. You should be grateful that someone has his wits about him, because neither you nor I do."
Suddenly realizing the magnitude of the insult he had offered, Alan muttered, "I'm sorry. I should not have said that." After R
ichard gave a forgiving nod, Alan took another gulp of the spirits, welcoming the burn down his throat. "Is Burgoigne as wicked as he seems?"
"Worse," Adrian said without looking up.
"How much of a ransom are you willing to pay, Warfield?" Alan asked. No matter how mad with lust or guilt he might be, it was hard to imagine that his brother-in-law would give up his entire earldom for his wife.
Adrian didn't reply, just shook his head, his face still and withdrawn.
Richard sighed and sat down on a stool. "To deal with Burgoigne is to walk the edge of a sword, with the fires of hell below if you fall to either side. If Adrian had agreed to his demands today, Guy might well have decided that since Meriel meant that much to him, it would be more enjoyable to kill her as a way of spiting Adrian."
He emptied his goblet and set it back on the table. "I seriously doubt that Guy expects to get what he asked for today. The critical question is, what will satisfy him instead? And what will he do to Meriel if Adrian doesn't judge his state of mind perfectly and make all the right responses?"
"Merciful saints," Alan whispered. Remembering Burgoigne's threat of mutilation brought a cold sweat out on his palms. "Might he accept me as a hostage in her place?"
Adrian spoke up. "No. He might possibly exchange her for me. It would give him the chance he has wanted for years. And it might be the best solution."
"No!" Richard exclaimed. "Damn you, you'll not put yourself in his power!"
Adrian dropped his hand and looked at his brother. "Do you think you could stop me?"
Richard glared back, his usually pleasant expression furious. While he doubtless did care for Meriel, he cared a good deal more for his brother.
Alan would unhesitatingly pick Meriel's life over the earl's if forced to choose, but after today he was loath to see any man fall into Burgoigne's vindictive hands. Given what he was willing to do to an innocent, God alone knew what he might do to the man he hated. "Surely there must be another way."
"Perhaps the king can bring Guy to heel and persuade him to release Meriel."
Richard looked derisive. "Stephen has had precious little success bringing his barons to heel, which is why England has known a decade of war. Do you think he'd use what influence he has on behalf of a man who supports Matilda?"
Alan had forgotten their political differences, which seemed unimportant just now. "That might not matter. Stephen is an honorable man, as even his worst enemy admits. He would never condone the abuse of an innocent woman. And while you are for Matilda, my Lord Theobald is not. He and his lady are very fond of Meriel, and they have considerable influence."
Adrian spoke again. "Even if influence could be brought to bear, there isn't enough time for that. Burgoigne wants some kind of satisfactory response tomorrow. So I must either guess what is in his mind correctly or try something else." He glanced at his brother. "Do you think that you could locate one of the Chastain villagers who is knowledgeable about the inside layout of the castle?"
"I've been inside Chastain," Alan said. Both heads swiveled toward him, surprised. Answering the implied question, he said, "You never asked me. Several years ago, Lord Theobald spent a night with Burgoigne and I was with him." He grimaced. "I saw nothing of Lord Guy, or I would have known better what kind of man he is. But I did have time to explore the inner ward. One can never tell when it will be useful to know a castle's defenses."
A faint smile, the first in days, touched Adrian's lips. "What a very astute brother-in-law you are. Did you happen to discover where the dungeon is?"
Alan started to say that surely Burgoigne would not put a lady in a dungeon like a common thief, then thought better of it. That might be exactly what Burgoigne would do. "I'm not sure. My guess would be that the dungeon is beneath the northeast tower, but I did not actually see it."
The earl nodded, regretful but unsurprised. Even the most curious guest would be wary of probing the darkest corners of another man's castle. "In that case, Richard, you had best discover whatever retreat the villagers have withdrawn to. Sorry to send you to face their ire, but I am off to do a little exploring."
Apparently knowing what his brother had in mind, Richard gave him a look of disgust. "You're mad."
"Perhaps," Adrian said equably. "Perhaps not. Have you a better idea?"
"I'm going with you," Alan announced.
Adrian gave him another faint, rather charming smile. "Somehow I did not think I would escape you. Very well, get your cloak and come along."
* * *
An hour later, Alan echoed Richard's statement, saying flatly, "You're mad."
The earlier sunshine was now obscured by drizzling rain, and he and the earl had used the poor visibility and their dark cloaks to make their way unseen to a spot which gave them a clear view of the back of the castle. The massive stone keep loomed high above the river. A steeply angled bluff rose from the water to the base of the castle, and the curtain wall rose sheer for another two dozen feet.
Ignoring his brother-in-law's comment, the earl narrowed his eyes as he studied the cliff and wall. "When you visited, did you notice what kind of night guard Guy kept on the river side?"
Alan thought back. "I have the impression that there were only a few watchmen, and all were posted on the land side."
"He always was a careless devil," Adrian murmured. "He may be a bit more cautious with us on his doorstep, but I'd be surprised if the river side will be watched thoroughly tonight."
"The reason it won't be watched is that no one can attack that way," Alan said with exasperation.
"The cliff and wall at Warfield are steeper, and I've climbed them," the earl said mildly.
That momentarily silenced Alan. He had the irreverent thought that Lord Adrian would be a great asset in capturing eyases. "Did you scale Warfield at night, in the rain, when the cliff and wall were wet and the wind tearing at you?"
"Not in the rain," the earl admitted, "but this is an easier climb. Not so steep, and with more handholds."
Alan cast another disbelieving glance at the precipice. If that was Lord Adrian's idea of an easy climb, he really was mad. "What good will it do Meriel if you get yourself killed?"
The earl's humor vanished. "Do you think I can possibly go on living if Burgoigne murders Meriel?"
The dangerous light in those burning gray eyes silenced any retort Alan could think of. For the first time, he believed that his brother-in-law might actually be willing to give his entire earldom in return for his wife's life.
The hell of the present situation was that even that might not be enough to save her.
Alan's gaze traveled back to the castle. It was not as formidable as Warfield, but it was quite ominous enough. Ignoring the chill that prickled his neck, he said gruffly, "If you go in there tonight, I'm going with you."
Lord Adrian arched his blond brows. "You are mad enough to climb a wet precipice in the dark and the rain? I hadn't realized that you would carry this shadow business quite so far."
"I'm not sure I could manage the climb in the light, much less the dark, but if you reach the top, you can drop a rope," Alan said, ignoring the other man's levity. "There is a much better chance of getting Meriel out safely if you have someone to guard your back."
A wicked gleam showed in the earl's eyes. "You won't succumb to the temptation to put a dagger in it yourself?"
Alan felt himself color. His hostility to the earl had dissolved in the face of the other man's unmistakable devotion to Meriel. Not ready to admit that, he said shortly, "I will forgo that pleasure until my sister is free."
A hint of smile playing around his lips, Lord Adrian wisely refrained from answering. Instead, he went back to studying the dangerous heights he planned to scale that night.
Chapter 20
A pity the nights were so short this time of year, Adrian thought. They were starting late so that the castle would be sleeping, and there would be only a few hours of full darkness before the sky began to lighten. It would take time t
o scale that cliff, more time to find where Meriel was imprisoned. If she were on the upper level of the main keep, it might be impossible to reach her.
He pulled a dark cap over his head, covering the bright hair which might attract unwanted attention. For similar reasons he'd rubbed earth on his face, aiming for a neutral tone, neither too dark nor too light.
Because climbing the bluff would be impossible in a metal hauberk, he wore a padded leather gambeson which would provide a little protection in the event of trouble. Looped diagonally around his body was a long hemp rope. Though it would hinder his climbing, the rope was essential if Alan was to join him inside the castle.
Richard had used his gilded tongue to convince the wary villagers that Lord Adrian had no intention of using them as ill as Lord Guy did. Hoping cooperation might save their homes, two people had offered their help. One was a young laundress who usually worked in the castle. She had been visiting her family when the drawbridge was raised, marooning her outside.
The girl and Alan had worked for hours with pieces of charcoal to draw a plan of the castle. She showed the precise location of the dungeon, with suggestions of other places Meriel might be held captive and warnings of where guards would be found. She was particularly knowledgeable about the castle's nooks and crannies. Adrian suspected that the girl had discovered them while pursuing private pleasures with various men-at-arms. Thank God for native English lustiness.
The other helper was a fisherman who would take them to the base of the bluff in his boat, then wait to take them away again. Adrian had some doubts about trusting him until Richard took him aside to say that the man's daughter had been raped by Burgoigne. After that, Adrian had accepted the offer with no further demurrals.
As Adrian buckled his swordbelt, he said to Richard, "If anything should happen, both Matilda and her son have agreed to accept you as heir to my title and holdings. You'll probably have to fight some of Stephen's people for the right to keep them, but you can manage that handily."
"Come back and do your own fighting," Richard snapped, tight-lipped with tension and anger.