Haunted Knights (Montbryce~The Next Generation Historical Romance) (24 page)

Adam and Vincent stole off to lurk in nearby bushes.

Soon men bearing flaming torches entered the clearing, followed by shawm and bodhran players. Behind them men and women danced and cavorted to the beat of the lively music, many seemingly already under the influence of intoxicating substances. Adam felt the vibration of the drums in his bones.

The rescuers came out of the shadows to mingle with the growing throng in the clearing. Behind the dancers marched a small contingent of Carnac’s men-at-arms, looking anything but menacing with their halos of laurel leaves. Then came Malraux, mounted on an elaborately liveried gelding, waving to the cheering crowd, every finger richly jewelled. He wore a black velvet doublet and leggings, the only man present not in costume.

The torch bearers lit the small piles of wood ranged around the perimeter. A gust of wind swirled the smoke around. Adam blinked away the sting, reminded of the night of the fire at Kingston Gorse when his life had changed completely. Rosamunda had brought hope and love back into his life. He longed to hold her again, to be assured of her safety.

He grunted and nudged Vincent. “Letyce Revandel rides next to Malraux. Let’s hope she does not see through our disguises. Take care her gaze does not fall on you.”

Vincent gasped. “Paulina.”

Behind Malraux, a servant led a palfrey atop which sat a maiden dressed in a voluminous white robe with a red cape that flowed from her shoulders to cover the horse’s rump. A black hood hid her hair and face. Her hands were tied to the pommel, but her head hung limply, her shoulders sagging.

Adam put a restraining hand on Vincent as he moved towards the woman. “Too soon.”

Vincent shrugged him off. “That’s my sister, Adam. She looks like she has been drugged. The macabre outfit makes her seem like a giantess.”

An uncomfortable churning sensation twisted in Adam’s belly. “You’re right. Look at her hands.”

Vincent’s eyes widened. “They are too big. It’s not Paulina.”

The relief in Vincent’s voice was palpable, but Adam’s heart raced. “Then who is it?’

Vincent frowned. “Rosamunda?”

Vincent’s voicing of his beloved’s name made the possibility real. Adam was certain it had been Rosamunda’s footprints on the beach and cliff path, and it was likely the male imprints belonged to Malraux. Few others in the vicinity would own a horse. Perhaps the other woman had been Letyce?

But then what had become of Paulina? He did not know which he dreaded more, that Rosamunda was indeed the hooded woman tied to the palfrey, or Denis discovering Paulina had disappeared and had perhaps never made it to Bretagne. They had found her cloak, but no trace of her.

By now the clearing was crowded. Adam noticed most of the women had withdrawn to the perimeter where barrels of ale had been set up on trestles. A steady stream of patrons plied their way to and from these improvised taverns as the women tucked coins into their aprons.

“Now I see what the women get out of this,” he remarked sarcastically to Vincent, but the latter seemed too intent on the hooded woman to listen.

Malraux dismounted and swaggered to the base of
Le Manio
. He made an expansive gesture to the crowd indicating they should continue their revels. The servant who had led the palfrey pulled open the cape, slid it off the woman’s shoulders and tossed it aside.

A cheer went up from the crowd. The woman wore some sort of harness that criss-crossed between her breasts, emphasizing their size and shape. Adam recognized those beautiful globes and his heart bled with shame and indignation for Rosamunda. He wanted to rush forward to cover her. Beside him Vincent growled like a caged animal.

The servant attached the pulley to the back of the harness. The crowd inhaled a collective breath as the servant started the climb up the scaffold. The music stopped.

Malraux remounted his gelding.

“He wants to make sure the horde can see him,” Vincent remarked sarcastically.

 “Let’s hope they keep their attention fixed on him and not on the top of the platform,” Adam growled.

He wished there was some way to alert Denis, who believed it was Paulina about to be hoisted to the top of
Le Manio
, though if he had peeked out at the woman from his hiding place he might have seen it was not her. Perhaps in the dark he was too high up to tell. When the servant got to the platform, Denis would have to render him harmless or risk discovery. “Thank God for the smoke. At least it makes it difficult to see the top of the scaffolding.”

The
seigneur
de Carnac cleared his throat. A hush fell over the swaying crowd. “People of Carnac, and surrounds. Welcome to our annual All Hallows’ Eve observances. I trust everyone has had an amusing time thus far.”

Cheers confirmed his remarks, but Adam kept his attention on the servant as he neared the top.

Malraux scanned the crowd and coughed again, seemingly irritated that some among his audience were more interested in the man climbing the frame than in him. He raised his voice. “Soon comes the high point of our evening.”

Murmurs of excitement rose from the crowd.

“You may be wondering whom I have chosen to be your virgin sacrifice this year. Not one from among you, but a beauty nevertheless.”

He traced his finger over the front straps of the woman’s harness, and smiled. “As you see.”

More bawdy cheers.

Raged boiled up in Adam’s throat. He would cut off that defiling hand before he killed the man. He glanced back to the platform and his mouth fell open. Denis had somehow managed to dispatch the servant and take his place by the windlass. If he had accomplished it without Adam’s noticing, there was hope anyone glancing up would see only a shadowed figure they would believe was hunched over to work the contraption.

Malraux raised his hand. “Our virgin sleeps now—a little tonic to settle her nerves.”

Laughter rippled through the clearing, churning Adam’s gut.

“But she will wake momentarily so we can appreciate fully her enjoyment of the proceedings.”

Vincent swore. “And I thought my mother was evil.”

Adam clenched his fists when Malraux produced a dagger from his belt. He slit the ropes binding Rosamunda’s wrists to the pommel.

She stirred.

“
Courage, mon amour
,” Adam whispered, dreading the moment she would awake and discover where she was. “I am here.”

Malraux raised his hand again. “At my signal, Roget will raise our angel. I myself will climb up to free her into your waiting arms. She may cling to the Manio as long as she can, but eventually she will fall.”

He wagged a finger. “However, in your enthusiasm, don’t forget my
droit de seigneur
.”

Many men licked their lips, no doubt conjuring an image of a maiden clinging for dear life to the giant phallus. Adam feared he might retch.

Malraux glanced up briefly, then dropped his hand. The palfrey moved restlessly as the maiden was lifted from its back. The jerk of the winch seemed to revive the woman, and she fumbled with the hood, dragging it off.

Adam must have drawn blood as he dug his fingernails into Vincent’s arm. Rosamunda’s wild blond hair stood up on end. Fear twisted her beautiful face into a grimace as she mouthed her terror, kicking her legs.

Malraux chuckled as he put his foot on the bottom of the scaffold. “I forgot to mention, gentlemen, the virgin is mute.”

For a moment the men stood dumbfounded, then raucous laughter rang out as jests were exchanged about the benefits of having a woman without a voice.

Adam put a hand on Vincent’s shoulder. “Denis must be aware by now it’s Rosamunda he is hoisting. Once Malraux gets up there—that’s a lot of weight for the scaffold to support. I will stand ready to catch her if she drops. You and the Bretons keep the others at bay. We’ll have to leave Malraux to Denis. At least he has the element of surprise.”

~~~

Denis was alarmed at how much Paulina weighed! He tightened his grip on the handle of the winch. His back was breaking and she wasn’t half way up to the platform. He knew the moment she started to struggle. His biceps strained like the devil to keep her moving. “Keep still,
mon ange
, I am bringing you to me,” he whispered, bracing his legs.

He had heard Malraux’s declaration of his intention to climb the scaffold. It was vital he free Paulina from the pulley before the monster reached the top. As her head came into view, he almost let go of the windlass. It was Rosamunda’s dishevelled hair! “Don’t struggle, Rosamunda. It’s me, Denis.”

She glanced up at the platform. His heart broke for the terror in her eyes. Thank God it was not Paulina. But where was she?

He had no time to ponder that now. First he had to save Rosamunda from a dangerous fall. “As soon as you reach the platform, lie still while I unfasten the pulley. Adam is below.”

She took a deep shuddering breath as she grabbed for the edges of the platform. Denis felt the scaffold sway as Malraux climbed nearer, urged on by the drunken sots below. He let go of the windlass handle, jamming the peg into the hole to brake it, then pulled in the rope hand over hand. He unhooked the pulley as Rosamunda scrambled to her feet. She clung to him so tightly he feared they might both pitch forward off the platform. “Easy. We must not give Malraux a hint there is aught amiss.”

He drew his sword. “Get behind the windlass. Pay no heed to the body hidden there.”

She stumbled in the long gown, but did as he bade.

~~~

Malraux paused in his ascent. The mob had gone strangely quiet. He looked down. One man, taller than most, stood alone in the centre of the clearing looking up at
Le Manio
. Like the rest, he was disguised as a tree. Peasants had no imagination.

Then he noticed three other men standing in a half circle with their backs to the man, two with daggers drawn, and the other with a sword. They were warning off all comers.

What in the name of the saints? Had some wretch connived to get the virgin for himself?

Though they were being held away by three armed men, the rest had their attention fixed on the platform. What was going on up there?

He peered up, but saw nothing except smoke and the planks under the windlass. What was Roget doing? He would pay dearly if he’d had a part in any plot to let one man have the mute. He drew his dagger, clenching it between his teeth as he continued his ascent. He wished he had had complete supervision over the construction of the scaffold. Serfs never did a thorough job.

He laughed at the scene that confronted him when he arrived onto the platform, grasping the dagger. “Denis de Sancerre! You came! I hoped you would. Perhaps we will toss a dwarf off
Le Manio
tonight.”

He eyed Denis’ sword, pointing to it with his weapon. “What do you hope to achieve with your pig poker?”

He lunged, anticipating a quick thrust to his enemy’s heart, but the dwarf nimbly avoided his blade. He reached for the handle of the windlass to steady himself, noticing the mute crouched behind it. If he got his hands on her—

But Sancerre attacked. The runt had better sword skills than Malraux had anticipated, but no matter—

He avoided the blow, spun on his heel and thrust his dagger again, momentarily distracted by the loud creaking of the scaffold and the sweat running off his brow.

He rubbed his eyes, surprised to see Sancerre at the opposite side of the platform, apparently unhurt. He glanced down to see faces turned up to watch what was happening. What a fool he must look dancing around with a dwarf armed with nothing but a miniature sword. Time to finish this quickly.

He reached behind the windlass to grab the mute’s arm. She struggled, until he threatened her with the knife. “Let go of the hoist,” he commanded, dragging her back against his body, his free arm clamped around her waist, the dagger at her throat.

She shook her head defiantly.

The dwarf came closer, brandishing his sword, his ugly face twisted in anger. “Let her go, Malraux.”

Malraux winced as the mute’s elbow connected sharply with his gut. The dwarf lunged, slicing open his bicep. Malraux dropped the dagger and fell against the windlass.

An ominous cracking sound caught everyone’s attention.

Adam rushed to the scaffolding the moment Malraux grabbed Rosamunda. He narrowed his eyes, peering up. “The planks under the windlass have given way,” he yelled to Vincent and the others.

He backed away hurriedly as the hoisting mechanism teetered, then fell. People screamed and fled, but the windlass suddenly jerked to a halt, crashing against the scaffolding. Pieces of broken planking clattered to earth, not far from where Adam stood, but the windlass dangled precariously, apparently held in place by the rope and pulley.

His heart in his throat, he looked up again. All he could see of Rosamunda was the voluminous gown billowing out like a white cloud against the night sky. She was clinging to the horizontal pole of the platform. Denis struggled to pull her to safety. But most of the planking was gone, making the platform a dangerous place.

Malraux’s body was draped inelegantly across the horizontal pole of the next level of the scaffolding, his bejewelled hands clamped tight on the wood.

The utter silence was broken only by the crackle and hiss of the bonfires and the ominous creaking of the swaying scaffolding. Women held their hands to their mouths. Men gaped. No one breathed.

Trying desperately to devise a way to save his brother and his beloved, Adam cupped his hands to his mouth. “Denis. Keep absolutely still.”

If they fell, he could not catch both.

~~~

Into the silence intruded the thud of hooves. Adam felt it in his feet. Many horses, approaching fast. He looked to Vincent. “They will topple the tower.”

Everyone had turned to gape at the newcomers, a large contingent of armed knights reining their mounts to a halt. Adam immediately recognized his brother, Mathieu, and his cousin, Robert, but was not sure who the diminutive knight in front was until she dismounted quickly, screaming Denis’ name.

Paulina?

Vincent called her name and ran to embrace her, but she never took her eyes off the scene atop the scaffolding. She broke away from her brother and shouted to Robert. “Bring the tent.”

Puzzled, Adam watched Robert direct his men to bring forward a canvas tent. But he quickly understood the plan and took hold of an edge of the canvas.

“Carry it over to the rock and stretch it out. You must hold it as tightly as you can,” Paulina commanded.

The last time Adam had seen Paulina she had reminded him of a timid mouse. Now she stood like the Conqueror at Hastings, issuing orders. The Boadicea of Kingston Gorse. He half expected to see Topaz perched on her shoulder.

She cupped her hands around her mouth. “Rosamunda, you must let go. We stand ready to catch you.”

Nothing happened.

“I don’t think she heard me,” Paulina rasped.

Adam tried. “Rosamunda, you will be safe. I promise. Trust me. Let go.”

Rosamunda looked into Denis’ eyes. Her arms were being wrenched from their sockets and Denis would not have the strength to hold onto her much longer. The scaffolding threatened to collapse at any moment, dragged down by the dangling windlass.

“Trust him,” Denis whispered. “He loves you. He will let no harm befall you.”

“You?” she mouthed.

He smiled. “Now I see my Paulina is safe, I have no intention of dying on this rickety structure. I will jump after you.”

Trusting her fate to God, she let go of the pole and fell backwards into nothingness.

~~~

Lying flat on his belly, Denis peered over the edge in time to see Rosamunda land safely in the canvas held by the men below. A cheer went up from the crowd that minutes before had been thirsting for blood.

Adam lifted her from the folds of the tent and carried her off to safety. Another man took his place at the edge of the canvas.

Paulina peered up at him, her face full of love and anguish, her arms outstretched.

For a moment his courage failed him. He was aware his spine and hips were not made like those of other men. What might result in a few bruises for them could cripple him forever.

But he’d be damned if he would die in a heap of broken wood. He slowly unbuckled his sword belt, then came to his feet carefully. But the scaffolding swayed alarmingly. He looked down. Malraux had managed to stand and was shifting his weight deliberately between two upright poles. He screamed at Denis. “I’ll not die alone, dwarf.”

It was now or never.

As the plank beneath his feet disappeared, Denis spread his arms wide and flung his body out into the void.

~~~

Paulina worried that catching Denis would not be the same as catching Rosamunda. As the scaffold fell apart, she shouted urgently to the men holding the tent. “He has no voluminous gown to cushion his fall. Hold the canvas higher, but when he hits, let it sag a little with his weight.”

As poles and planks clattered to earth, she prayed she would get the opportunity to tell Denis the things she should have confessed long ago.

He hit with a sickening thud. The men lowered the canvas to the ground. Denis lay in the centre, his eyes closed, arms thrust out at his sides.

“Denis,” she screamed, stumbling into the canvas. She fell to her knees at his side and threw her arms around his neck, kissing his full lips, his stubbled chin, his high forehead. “Please don’t die, Denis. I love you,” she sobbed.

Denis peeled open one eye. “You love me?”

She pulled back, rubbing the back of her hand over her eyes. “You’re alive.”

She swatted his shoulder. “You made me believe you were dead.”

He smiled mischievously. “I was enjoying the kisses and hugs. I thought for a moment I had landed in heaven.”

He rolled to sit up, but she threw herself at him again, smothering him with kisses. He laced his fingers into her hair, forcing her to prolong the kiss. He coaxed her mouth open with his tongue and desire spiralled through her belly as he deepened the kiss. She felt his male part harden against her belly and brazenly rubbed her mons against it. They broke apart both panting for breath, his eyes wide.

“I have longed to kiss you,” Denis growled.

She felt her face redden. “I don’t know how to kiss.”

Denis chuckled. “Yes, you do.”

“Do you intend to sit there all night, or can I have my tent back?”

They looked up sharply. Denis scrambled to his feet, helping Paulina to rise. “Robert, cousin. I apologise. I owe you my life and here I am dallying with a maiden when I should be falling to my knees in gratitude.”

The two men embraced. Robert laughed. “It’s Paulina to whom you owe your gratitude. She insisted we make the trek to Carnac, convinced your life was in danger. It was a courageous thing she did, escaping from Malraux.”

Denis arched his brows as he looked at Paulina.

“And on horseback, believe it or not,” she crowed.

~~~

Rosamunda savoured Adam’s warmth as he cuddled her to his chest. He had already used his dagger to slice off the offensive harness Malraux had fitted her with. She had no memory of being garbed in the hideous white gown. The last thing she remembered was being rescued by Letyce Revandel.

She looked up at Adam and smiled as they watched Denis and Paulina climb off the canvas and speak to Robert.

He kissed each corner of her mouth delicately, then sucked her bottom lip. “I thought I had lost you,” he rasped. “After the boat capsized, I believed you had drowned.”

She put her forefinger on his lips. “Current strong,” she mouthed. “Swept away.”

He tightened his hold. “I will never allow you to be exposed to such dangers again.”

She shrugged. “Life is dangerous.”

Then she pointed to a solitary figure standing with the horses.

“My brother, Mathieu,” he explained.

She frowned, hearing the sadness behind his words.

He inhaled deeply. “It’s a long story. When we believed I would never sire children, he insisted I forfeit my right to inherit Belisle.”

She had never asked Adam about his family, or his inheritance. What mattered was they be together. But she heard the bitterness in his voice. “Now?” she asked.

He watched Mathieu, who glanced at them occasionally, averting his eyes quickly when he noticed them watching.

He stood and set her on her feet. “We will have to settle it. Now is as good a time as any. Stay here.”