Page 43

The sound of footsteps in the corridor galvanized him. Quick as a blink he dropped the medallion into his pocket and slipped into the anteroom just as the door opened and Duke Julian strolled in, accompanied by several nobles, Cren the Astrologer, and Baylor, the Captain of Arms.
“I’ve been pondering the executions of Count Marcus and that gypsy,” Julian informed his captain. Nicholas listened from the anteroom, his fingers clenched around his sword.
“The stench of their perfidy is rising from the dungeons to pervade the castle. I want them gone, a warning to my people that any opposition to the crown will not be tolerated. I have decided to move up their executions. Baylor, proclaim to all that the traitors will die tomorrow. I expect every noble and merchant and peasant to attend.”
“My lord, it will be done. When?” Baylor inquired.
“My subjects are commanded to gather in the courtyard at the stroke of dawn. When first light comes, the prisoners will be brought to the scaffold in chains for all to see, and they will be paraded and then hanged before all of Dinadan.”
Nicholas could hear the smile in Julian’s smug, velvety voice. In the shadows of the anteroom, Nicholas’s eyes narrowed, and tension gripped him like iron chains.
This was too soon, much too soon. No reinforcements could be expected yet, unless fortune was strongly on his side—and it had not been on his side for a long while now.
But he couldn’t wait. With or without the soldiers, he needed to retake the castle, and he had to act before dawn.
6
Arianne never heardeven a footfall behind her before she was roughly grabbed.
She gasped, but before the scream could form in her throat, Nicholas’s hand clamped over her mouth.
“Easy—keep quiet,” he warned and pulled her through the door of the duchess’s anteroom and out into the cold stone corridor, up a short flight of stairs, to a low narrow hall. She wasn’t familiar with this part of the castle, but Nicholas yanked her through a door and into a darkened chamber without hesitation. Only when he’d kicked the door shut did he release her.
Nearly everyone in the castle was at supper in the great hall, dining on eggs in jelly and quince pie. It was the first chance Nicholas had found to catch her alone.
“We need to talk, and I couldn’t take the chance of being interrupted in the solar,” he informed Arianne curtly, trying not to notice how beautiful she looked tonight, in that flowing sea-green gown, her face flushed, her eyes huge and brilliant in the dusk. He longed to remove that damned wimple and cap and watch her lovely hair float free, cascading down her back like a river of fire. Longed to twine his fingers through the silk of it…
He snapped his attention back to the business at hand, frowning. This was no time for distractions.
“What is it?” Arianne asked, her heart still hammering in her throat as he turned away from her and lit candles atop a low chest. The room shimmered with a warm, pale light that flickered eerily across his darkly somber face.
“Ill news. We must act quickly. There’s no time to wait for your troops to arrive—or mine.”
Swiftly he explained what he’d overheard in Julian’s chambers.
“He’s planning to hang Marcus atdawn?” Arianne felt the color draining from her face. Suddenly she sprang forward and grasped his arm. “Let’s go. Right now, Nicholas. We must free him tonight, even if we have to kill all the guards—I’ll need a sword.”
“Arianne, calm yourself.” He grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a shake. “You’ve no need of a sword, for you’re staying far from the fray. The situation is under control.”
“Under control?” she flashed, her chin flying up. “How can you say that?”
“Do you want to hear my plan or not?”
She took a deep breath, summoning calm, and then nodded. Her violet eyes flashed thoughtfully as she listened to him outline how he had already arranged with Sir Castor’s knights—the ones who had entered the castle with them—that they and Nicholas would enter the dungeon shortly before dawn and demand that the prisoners be given over to them. They would say that Julian had ordered them to bring Count Marcus and the gypsy before him for a private exchange before the public hanging.
“Yes, oh, yes, that’s good.” A smile bloomed across her face. “And once you get him out?”
“Sir Castor’s men will have horses ready. They’ll make for the drawbridge with him and stop for nothing. I’ll remain here, still in disguise.”
“No, you must go, too,” Arianne cried, fear bright in her eyes as she stared up at him. “Nicholas, they’ll be hunting for you…”
“I’m not leaving without you. Or without bringing Julian to his knees,” he replied quietly. His eyes lit with ruthless anticipation. “I’ll wait until Marcus and the others have marshaled our combined forces. When the signal for the attack is given, I’ll be well positioned to draw my sword against Duke Julian.”
She was silent. The immense danger looming before them lay like a rock upon her heart. Through the flickering candlelight, she studied Nicholas’s face, the fierce scar, the harsh readiness in his gray hawk’s eyes.
“What can I do?” she asked steadily, suddenly realizing that after this night she might never see him again. Anything might happen once their plan was set in motion. Anything at all…Death could come swiftly to him, to Marcus, even to herself.
“Keep close to Duchess Katerine. If fighting breaks out, lock yourselves in her rooms and stay there—“He broke off, frowning. “I recognize that look, Arianne. You don’t intend to follow a word of my instructions, do you?”