“We’ve no the time we need for that now, love.”
“The six of you lads, into the cart now. Sit with your backs together like good boys.” The Faerie beside them smiled brightly as she jumped from the cart to climb up into the saddle of the nearest recently vacated saddle. “We’ll be needing these.”
“Yer an Elf,” Christiana stated admiringly from her perch at the front of the cart. “But no exactly an Elf.”
“Faerie,” Elesyria confirmed. “Much better than Elf, to my way of thinking. Come on with the lot of you. Who knows how long we have before someone thinks to come looking for us?”
Malcolm strapped on his sword and confirmed Dani’s suspicions of his physical state by allowing her to help him from the cart.
Once mounted, he scanned the horizon as if getting his bearings for where they were.
“How long will they be like that?” he asked, motioning toward the catatonic guards.
Elesryia shrugged. “Hours at the very least. Maybe a day or more. I’ve been shut off from my Magic long enough for its results to be uncertain.”
Malcolm nodded, clearly already planning their next move. “We ride south, under the cover of forest as far as we can.”
Dani mounted the horse next to his after assuring herself he would be all right. She’d simply have to trust in his ability to judge his own strength.
Christiana unhooked the horses that had pulled the cart, sending them off with a slap to the lead animal before climbing up onto one of the guards’ mounts.
“Just in case,” she said with a frown. “No point in making it easy for them to return for help.”
No point, indeed.
With one last look back at the vacant stares of the guards, Dani leaned low over her horse’s neck, racing to keep pace with her companions as they made their escape.
Thirty-seven
EXCITEMENT BUBBLED INTorquil’s chest, almost like in the days of his childhood when his father had returned from some journey bearing gifts for him. Except that today, he was giving the gift to himself.
He measured his steps, keeping his pace under control, refusing to give in to the giddy need to hurry as he strode the hall toward Danielle’s chamber, Ulfr at his side.
He’d envisioned her reaction to the news he carried of her husband’s “death” a hundred times since early morning. Now, at long last, he’d have the pleasure of living what so far had been only a fantasy in his imagination.
An accident, of course. A fall from the highest battlements in a misguided attempt to escape, the body too mangled for viewing by one with such delicate sensibilities as she.
Stepping between the guards stationed at either side of her door, Torquil filled his lungs and exhaled, striving to achieve the proper balance of emotions the grieving widow would expect before he knocked.
His knock went unanswered.
She dared ignore him?
After the second unanswered knock he stepped to one side, signaling for his men to gain him entry. With their battery, the door swung open and he stormed inside.
Empty.
He strode to the adjoining chamber, amazed to find it empty as well.
“What’s the use of setting a guard if they sleep on the job?” His anger laced the words as he’d intended.
“We have not slept, my lord,” one guard asserted, his voice shaking. “As you ordered, no one has come or gone from the chamber since the good ladies returned early this morning.”
“I’ve had two sets of guards alternate,” Ulfr added. “I do not doubt their word.”
“And yet the chamber is empty,” Torquil murmured to himself, making a slow sweep of the first chamber.
If the guards told the truth, how could he possibly explain this?