Chapter Twenty #2
Stephen was gazing off into the bailey, his blue eyes fixed on something in the distance. Kynan turned around to see what the man was looking at but having no idea what held his attention. He looked back at Stephen.
“What are ye looking at?” he demanded.
Stephen lifted his chin in a pointing gesture. “The postern gate,” he said softly. “I do not see any guards.”
Kynan wriggled his brows. “Ye dunna see them because everyone is on the walls or in the hall. The postern gate is easily seen from both of those places so dunna think ye can easily escape from it. They will be on us in a flash.”
Stephen grunted in acknowledgement, thankful that they were at least partially hidden between the hall and the kitchens as they were.
He was also thankful that he was getting the feeling back in his arms because the first thing he did was grab Roman and swat the boy on the buttocks.
As Roman yelped, Stephen did the same thing to Cade.
When the boys looked up at him, angry and hurt, he pointed a finger at them.
“I told you not to disobey me,” he rumbled. But his harsh stance lasted for a half-second before he reached out and put his arms round the boys, hugging them as much as his weakened state would allow. “But for keeping me alive, I thank you. You are very brave men.”
The boys grinned at him and each other, proud they had accomplished something in spite of the risks. Kynan just shook his head.
“Little brutes,” he grumbled, eyeing the boys. “But brave. I shall give ye that.”
Stephen half-grinned at Kynan, looking at the section of the bailey he could see from their vantage point and feeling even more exposed. He could hear men all around and was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. They had to move.
“We cannot simply stand here,” he told Kynan. “Where are your men?”
Kynan looked around, sticking his neck out and peering around the side of the hall for a full view of the bailey. After several long moments, he returned his attention to Stephen.
“I dunna see them,” his gaze moved between Stephen and the stocks. “I shall go look for ’em but it might be best if ye returned to the stocks until I return. That way, if anyone sees ye, nothin’ will look odd. You’ll still be in the stocks where they left ye.”
Stephen knew he had a point. Wearily, he went back to the wooden framed beast and put his head and wrists into the slots.
It was excruciatingly painful for him to resume the stance, but he knew it was important.
Kynan draped the chains around to make it look like Stephen was still chained down even though he could quite easily break free.
When Kynan was satisfied with the illusion, he abruptly waved his hands at the boys.
“Go and hide,” he commanded softly. “Stay out o’sight until I return.”
The boys did as they were told. As Kynan wrapped the tartan back over his head and slipped away, Stephen stood there in his hunched, uncomfortable position, wondering if he was going to indeed live to see the next few days come to pass.
It was not simply himself to worry over.
Now there was Cade and Roman, as well meaning as they were.
He was far more concerned with getting the boys out safely.
He could only pray that Kynan had a workable plan.
All of their lives were in the hands of a man once considered the enemy.
The seconds were ticking away faster now, ever closer to his date with doom.
Fortunately, it was not too long before Kynan reappeared.
Behind him came several men, all of them clad in the same brownish-orange tartan.
They were big, dirty men with an unruly way about them.
Kynan didn’t have to say a word. He simply pointed at Stephen and three burly Scots went to him, pulling the chains off and releasing him from the stocks.
Stephen stood with some assistance, his ribs still badly injured and his back injured on top of everything from having been confined in stocks not built for a man his height.
One of the men produced a length of tartan and wrapped it around Stephen’s massive shoulders, draping it so it covered most of his battered torso before wrapping the end of it over his head.
Stephen nodded his silent thanks to these men he had fought against, killed against, feeling very blessed and guilty that they were willing to assist him.
He wondered fleetingly if these men had been part of the ambush weeks ago that had injured Joselyn, or if he had fought against them during the innumerable skirmishes over the past month.
They had all been bred since birth to kill and hate one another, but now, he found his life in their hands more than he could have ever imagined.
By this time, Cade and Roman had come out of their hiding place and were watching the activity with big eyes. Kynan saw the boys and beckoned them with a crooked finger. Hesitantly, they went to him, afraid they were going to be slapped in the head again.
“Now,” Kynan put a hand on either boy’s shoulder. “We’re gonna get Sir Stephen out of this place but I need ye tae stay close tae me, do ye hear? Dunna run off.”
The boys nodded solemnly. “We won’t,” Cade assured him. “But can we help?”
“Aye, of course ye can,” Kynan assured him. “I would have ye be look-outs. Ye need to keep yer eyes open for anything suspicious.”
“Suspicious?” Roman repeated. “Like what?”
Kynan turned the boys around so they were facing the bailey and the postern gate in the distance. “Like men with weapons chargin’ for us,” he said, pointing. “See that gate? We’re gonna make our way tae it. I shall need yer help tae open it.”
The boys nodded eagerly, preparing to behave like true warriors.
They were terrified and excited. When Kynan made sure the tartan was sufficiently draped over Stephen, he motioned the group to move.
They did so, but very quickly realized that Stephen was moving like an injured man.
If they were going to move unnoticed, then Stephen would have to make a better attempt at behaving normally. Kynan went to him.
“Ye walk like ye have two broken legs,” he said. “I dunna mean tae make yer life more miserable than it already ’tis, but can ye at least stand straight? Ye walk like a cripple.”
Stephen grunted, trying to straighten up. The blue eyes were blazing. “I am a cripple,” he groaned. “But I will do my best.”
Kynan nodded, motioning for his men to take the lead as he stayed close to Stephen.
He was concerned for the man, concerned for who might be watching, and terrified that they weren’t going to make it out of the gate.
But their best option was to behave as normally as possible, so he and his men moved in a casual group towards the postern gate, that small opening to freedom that loomed before them.
Stephen could see the gate and never in his life had something meant so much to him.
He needed to make it to that small doorway and to the freedom that waited beyond.
A wife whom he adored, a son on the way…
he needed to get to his family. That one thought alone kept his focus.
They made it across the bailey without incident and were within several feet of the gate when a shadow suddenly blocked their path.
Stephen saw the movement and he reflectively flinched, moving for a sword that was not at his side.
Kynan’s men were armed but they did not move to draw their weapon.
They simply came to a halt, facing the figure that stood between them and the postern gate.
Kynan saw the figure, the face, and hissed under his breath.
He really was not surprised. But he was extremely disheartened.
Morgan de Velt was standing between them and freedom.
*