“What in the hell happened?” he nearly shouted. “Where is Toby?”
Kenneth felt like he had failed by letting her get away from him; on the other hand, it was the bravest, most foolish thing he had ever seen. “She rode off on a stolen horse with about a dozen men in pursuit,” he couldn’t explain better than that. “She ran away from me before I could stop her.”
“Why in God’s name did she run?”
“Bait, I believe.” He could think of no other reason.
Tate looked at him as if the man had lost his mind. “She… she lured those men out of the stables?”
Kenneth nodded. “She must have heard the commotion and thought to divert their attention. I, in fact, thought they had located you.”
“They had,” Tate growled, then ripped his helm off and tossed it to the ground in a fit of anger. “Damn her! She is going to get herself killed, the silly wench. I must go after her.”
Kenneth stopped him. “Nay,” he said firmly. “Take Edward and the rest of them and get to the horses north of the castle. Donot waste her sacrifice. She pulled those men off for a reason. I will go after her.”
Tate had never been more torn in his life; his momentary anger at her actions suddenly gave way to terror. “My God,” he breathed. “I said that she was brave but I had no idea just how brave she really was. Did she truly gain their attention to draw them away from Edward and me?”
“I can think of no other explanation,” Kenneth replied. “She moved before I could stop her.”
Tate swallowed hard as sounds of the swordfight near the kitchens died away and he turned in time to see Wallace dispatching the last soldier. Edward and Stephen were running in Tate’s direction, swords up and in full battle mode, but all Tate could think of at the moment was Toby. He put his hand on Kenneth’s shoulder, struggling with his emotions.
“She is all to me,” he whispered. “Know this.”
“I do, my lord. I shall not fail, I swear it.”
Kenneth was off, racing for the horses that were still tethered in the bailey. Tate watched him thunder from the outer ward before turning to Stephen, Edward, and now Wallace. In the distance, he could see Althel and the men at arms approach. His heart was aching but he forced himself to focus. He would not waste her sacrifice, as much as it was paining him not to help her. He would have to trust Kenneth.
“We go,” he growled, shoving Edward back in the direction of the kitchens where a postern gate lay lodged in the northern wall. “We have a very long night ahead of us to Carlisle.”
Edward, however, had heard the entire conversation about Toby. He was pale with anxiety.
“Is it true?” he demanded as Tate shoved. “Did Toby really pull those men off so they would not discover us?”
Tate realized that he was very close to tears. His heart screamed to save his wife but his head demanded he follow his duty to Edward. It was a horrific struggle.
“It would seem so,” he labored to stay on an even keel. “Kenneth is going to help her while I take you to safety.”
“But we must all go and help her!” Edward insisted. “I cannot allow her to sacrifice herself!”
Tate grabbed him around the neck, so hard that Edward visibly flinched. His eyes were like daggers as he stared at the boy. “To allow yourself to be captured would be to shame the courage she has shown,” he hissed. “We will honor that sacrifice. She has given us this gift and we will not waste it.”
Edward nodded unsteadily as they continued on, rubbing his neck where Tate had grabbed him. Together they moved to the postern gate, unlatching the nearly-frozen bolt and shoving it open. The snow was beginning to pile up, making it difficult to move the gate. But they managed to get it open and spill out into the yard beyond.
De Roche was waiting for them.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Toby wasn’t surehow long she had been riding. With the snow and darkness, she had lost all sense of time. More than that, it was increasingly difficult to follow any given path. The snow was completely obliterating it. So she followed what she thought was the road as the snow built up and the horse began to tire. She had stopped looking behind her long ago, fearful of what she would see, and just kept riding. So far, she had remained free. She thought she might even escape. But all of that eventually came to an abrupt, painful end.
Something hit her from the side, so hard that the horse went down and her with it. She heard bones cracking in her torso and she groaned in pain as a large, armored body came crashing down on top of her. There was so much pain that she couldn’t even fight back. All she could do was lay there and struggle to breathe.
The man pushed himself off of her, roughly reaching down to yank her to her feet. But Toby was in so much pain that she screamed the moment he tried to move her so he let go of her arm and stared down at her. She lay in the snow, gasping in agony. Soon, several more faces joined him.
“Who are you, girl?” one of the men asked.
Toby could hardly breathe; tears were stinging her eyes as she struggled. “To.. Toby Cartingdon.”
“What were you doing at Harbottle?”