Chapter Six
“I had heard you let her out of her cage,” Frederick said, nearly yelling because he was still several feet away as he drew near. “I hope I didn’t miss anything.”
He meant something undoubtedly humiliating or painful.
Devlin tightened up one of his leather gloves, trying to remain casual about the entire thing.
However, whenever Frederick was involved, the situation was anything but casual.
The mood of the conversation could go from light to deadly in a fraction of a second.
Devlin wondered if the man was going to bring up the subject of Emllyn paying for his brother’s death again; he hoped not.
Still, he was tightening up his gloves in case he had to throw a punch if the man made a swipe for her.
“You did not miss anything,” he said evenly. “We were just returning to the keep.”
“Why?” Frederick put out his hands to stop them, his gaze riveted to Emllyn as she was nearly buried with the garments in her arms. “She looks better than she did the night I captured her. In fact, she looks rather pleasing. I had no idea English women were anything other than slovenly hags.”
The men who had accompanied Frederick tittered rudely. Devlin’s expression was impassive. “We came to find some clothing that would fit her,” he said evenly. “Eefha has all manner of goods.”
Frederick didn’t take his eyes from her as he moved towards her, inspecting her as one would inspect a prized mare. He walked a slow circle around her, scrutinizing her from the front and from the rear.
“Eefha has everything one could possibly want and a few things one does not,” he said, a leering glint in his tone. “I would say that Kildare’s sister doesn’t want for anything. She is quite fine.”
Throughout the exchange, Emllyn stood stock still, terrified by the big Irish warrior’s attention.
All of the fear and terror she had felt the night she had been captured came roaring back, causing her knees to weaken and her palms to sweat.
She looks better than she did the night I captured her.
So it was this big, beefy knight who had chased her down and carried her off like so much baggage. He had been very rough and very rude.
She was absolutely terrified.
“Shain has an English knight in the gatehouse for questioning,” Devlin said, trying to distract Frederick.
“You will go and help him. Do not lay a hand on the prisoner, however, at least not until I get there. I do not want him beaten and dazed when I arrive, so much so that I will not be able to get anything intelligent out of him. We need answers, Freddy. See to it.”
Frederick nodded lazily, still inspecting Emllyn.
In fact, he was standing directly behind her, looking at her backside.
The man was oozing lust; it was evident in everything about him and Devlin struggled to keep a rein on his anger.
If Frederick sensed anything other than indifference in his attitude towards Emllyn, there would be trouble. Frederick would make it so.
“Aye,” he said, his focus on her bum. “She will breed you a host of strong Irish rebels and mayhap a daughter or two for the rest of us. I should have kept her for myself, Dev. Had I gotten a better look at her that night, I would have.”
“Go, now,” Devlin told him, ignoring his statement.
Frederick looked up at him, his eyes twinkling. “Can I have a go at her?”
Devlin simply pointed to the gatehouse as Frederick’s men laughed lewdly.
Emllyn lowered her head and struggled not to cry.
Devlin didn’t say a word as the men wandered away.
He watched them as they moved towards the gate house and saw clearly when Eefha moved towards the group; the old woman had her hands up at them, claws bared, as the shite pipe smoked furiously in her mouth.
Frederick’s men instinctively shied away from the woman as she began to hiss.
“The blood in thy breast, it boils,” she said. “Oft didst thou wrest Victory’s spoils.”
Frederick recoiled, too, when he heard the breathy words. “Dev!” he said, backing away in the direction of the gatehouse. “You said you would not let the old witch curse me! She is doing it, do you hear?”
Devlin held a straight face even though he wanted to laugh; it was always hilarious to him to see big, powerful knights turn into frightened children at the first sign of a curse or witchcraft.
Eefha had that effect on all of them with her odd speech and garbled appearance.
It was humorous how one tiny little woman could put the fear of the devil into men three times her size. Devlin waved the man off.
“She is simply telling you not to be so greedy,” he said. “Go, now, to the gatehouse. I will be there shortly.”
Eefha threw up her hands and growled at Frederick and his men, sending them scampering away. Devlin did grin, then, as he turned back for the keep and grasped Emllyn by the elbow. They were moving across the muddy bailey when he heard her soft voice.
“You… you have an English knight in the gatehouse?” she asked timidly. “Is… is he a young knight?”
Devlin was seized with a fit of jealousy before he even looked at her. Once he saw the eager expression on her face, he was positively enraged with it.
“Nay,” he said, looking away and struggling with the alien emotions that were running unbridled through his veins. “He is an older knight, and I told you to forget about your lover. He no longer exists.”
Emllyn lowered her gaze, thinking on all of her brother’s knights, or at least the ones she knew of. She’d never been around them much but she did know a few. They were a strong and loyal group.
“Do you know his name?” she asked. “I may be able to tell you how high he was in the chain of command.”
It was a suggestion he hadn’t thought of and he was embarrassed by it. What was this wild sense of possessiveness towards her that seemed to get stronger with every pull? Was it truly jealousy? He tried not to sound too interested or grateful in his reply.
“St. John,” he said, eyeing her as casually as he could manage. “Do you know him?”
Emllyn immediately nodded. “His daughter is my friend,” she said, looking at him with that beseeching expression he seemed unable to resist. “He served my grandfather, too. Is he well? Oh, please do not hurt him. He is a good man. His wife is very kind and they have five daughters. As I said, his oldest daughter is my best friend in the entire world and her father… well, he means a great deal to her. I will gladly take whatever punishment you intend for him.”
His expression was serious as he gazed down upon her. “Don’t you think you have taken enough punishment on behalf of Kildare?” he asked softly.
Emllyn looked as if she had been struck. The comment was blunt but the tone nearly regretful. It made her feel sickened. She had no response for him as the great keep of Black Castle swallowed them up into its cool, dark innards.
Escorting her in silence to the chamber at the top of the keep, he left her there alone while he went about his business.
He had a knight to interrogate.
*
“’Tis as we feared,” Shain told Devlin in a low voice. “De Cleveley and his allies are planning something big.”
Devlin, Shain, Frederick, and Iver were huddled in the guard room of Black Castle’s big gatehouse.
It was a very cramped room with a small hearth that gave off as much smoke as it did heat.
Even now, the air was filled with a thin blue fog of smoke.
The guards had taken Sir Victor back to the vault, leaving the knights in private conference.
Three hours of interrogation had given them some answers but not all.
There was still much more they should know.
“Aye,” Devlin agreed, running a hand through his short red hair. “He has told us that the missives between Kildare and de Cleveley had to do with quelling the rebellion and regaining Black Castle for the English, but no more than that. We still do not know how or when.”
“You should have let me have a go at him,” Frederick grumbled. The man was standing in the shadows, his big arms folded across his chest. “Mayhap he knows more than what he was willing to tell.”
Devlin glanced over his shoulder at him.
“Do not let your desire to damage more English flesh be your excuse to interrogate the man for additional information,” he said.
“St. John is a seasoned knight and, like the rest of us, no amount of interrogation in the world is going to loosen his tongue if he does not wish to speak. We had a civil conversation and I am convinced he told us what he knew. Beating the man into giving us false information simply to be done with the pain does not help is in any manner.”
Frederick wasn’t convinced but he didn’t argue. “So what do we do?” he asked.
Devlin cast a long glance at Shain before continuing.
“It is my intention to use our lady captive to our advantage,” he said.
“As I told you, the lady was following a lover who was part of the invasion force. She knows that we have several prisoners and she wishes to see if her lover is among them. I have told her that she may see the prisoners if she completes a task for me, and that is to go south to de Cleveley’s settlement and tell them that she has escaped from me.
She will then make her way into their confidence to see if she can find out when, and how, they plan to attack us.
When she completes her task to my satisfaction, I will let her see the prisoners so she may discover if her lover is among them.
For that reason alone, the prisoners must be kept alive until she returns. ”
He was looking at Frederick as he spoke the last sentence. Frederick was looking rather serious about it, as was Iver. “You intend to send her in to the English settlement?” Frederick said, rather surprised. “Once she’s in their bosom, she’ll surely remain. They will not let her leave!”