Chapter Twenty #3
Hidden by the reeds growing by the river’s edge, Joselyn gazed up at the massive bastion of Berwick.
She could see the familiar postern gate and the path she had taken once from the castle to the river where she had found her fawn.
The soft breeze blew the grass around her, folding it to the wind, as she crouched low and watched.
She knew she should not have come, but that knowledge had not stopped her.
Stephen was inside and she was determined to get to him and to free him.
Tate had meant well. He’d had Kynan take her to the last standing hostel in town, a place called the Sword and Fife.
Kynan had procured the best room they had to offer, an abundance of bread, oatcakes and cheese, and had left her there with four men-at-arms as escort.
They were Tate’s men, seasoned and weary, and had all ended up down in the main room drinking.
Joselyn had told the innkeeper to give them as much ale as they could drink.
They ended up getting ragingly drunk and she was able to slip out unnoticed.
Now she was here, hidden in the grass as she watched the activity upon Berwick’s soaring walls and having no idea what she was going to do to get her husband out.
She crept closer on her hands and knees, trying to stay as quiet as possible.
At one point she thought she heard the grass moving several feet behind her and she froze, ears cocked, but everything remained still.
Thinking the sound was a figment of her paranoid imagination, she paused and sank to her buttocks, watching the walls and gate that were now closer.
The castle loomed above her, a place with the most wonderful and terrible memories for her.
She felt as if she had come home again, to a place that did not belong to her yet was a part of her. It was an odd sensation.
She sat for some time, gazing up at the pale stone walls.
Everything was quiet and peaceful until a hand suddenly went over her mouth and an enormous arm encircled her waist. Joselyn screamed but the massive gloved hand blocked the sound.
She tried to fight, to struggle, but whoever had her was far too strong.
She found herself on her back with a big body over her.
Panic overtook her until she looked up into ice blue eyes.
Kenneth was gazing down at her, his jaw tight and eyes blazing. Joselyn’s eyes widened when she realized who it was.
“I would ask what you are doing here but I already know,” Kenneth whispered. “The next thing you feel is going to be the palm of my hand to your buttocks, and your husband be damned. He would do the same thing in my position.”
His hand came away from her mouth and she took a big gulp of air.
“Please do not be angry,” she whispered, fright in her eyes.
“I… I simply could not stay away, sitting in a strange room and wondering if my husband is going to live or die. Please do not send me back. If he… if he is going to die, I must be here. I must be close to him. Do you not understand?”
Tears rolled down her temples as Kenneth gazed down at her.
He was beginning to feel like a lout, struggling to maintain his fury at finding her at Berwick crawling around in the grass.
But he also knew how much Stephen meant to her.
He was coming to understand it more and more as the hours passed.
Truth be told, he really was not surprised to find her here.
With a heavy sigh, he sat up and pulled her with him.
“I understand that you are risking your life and if your husband found out, he would blister your backside,” he made a good try at maintaining his firm stance.
“Lady, I am here to ensure that your husband does not die but if I have to worry about you as well, Stephen’s chances are greatly diminished.
If the choice comes down to saving Stephen or saving you, then you know what I will have to do.
Stephen would never forgive me if I did not.
Do you understand the position you have put me in? ”
She looked up at him with her pale, sad eyes and nodded. “I am so scared, Kenneth. I had to come. I could just not sit and wait.”
He could see by the look in her eyes that she was not going anywhere. He could send her back to the hostel and she would just find another way to return. After a moment, he simply nodded his head in resignation.
“Then if you are not going to leave, I need for you to stay right here,” he said quietly. “Do not make any attempt to get closer to the castle for if you do, you will be within the range of the archers. Is that clear?”
Joselyn nodded seriously. “Aye, Kenneth.”
“Good.”
His attention suddenly turned back to the castle, the ice-blue eyes intense.
He looked as if something had his interest. Joselyn was about to ask him what the trouble was when she heard it, too.
It sounded like metal on metal but as she listened more closely, it sounded like a sword fight. Kenneth shoved her down into the grass.
“Stay here,” he commanded. “Do not move for any reason.”
She watched him crawl away, hidden by the tall green river grass. But the sounds of the sword fight grew more intense and she dared to lift her head, looking towards the source. Movement caught her eye and she could see where it was coming from.
From the between the iron grates of the postern gate, a full-scale battle was in bloom.