Page 28 of A Dark and Stormy Knight (A Knight’s Tale #3)

A ggression flowed through Wallace, but he did his best not to show it.

Amidst jeers and laughter, he bowed before the king until he saw the Monarch wave his hand in a leisurely gesture.

“Very well, very well, as if I do not know what this is about. But go ahead and speak your piece before you burst with it.”

More laughter.

Wallace straightened, ignoring the men and women gathered about. He could feel anticipation so strong among those present that it was almost avarice.

“My liege. As you know, I did not get a chance to fight Dinsdale and prove my innocence in Stirling.”

The king looked slightly amused, which wasn’t a bad thing. “This again? After I told you the matter was at an end?”

At least the king hadn’t shut him down completely. “The Dinsdales have stolen Wolfsbane property, and —”

“Your father’s land was confiscated when he turned traitor to his king.”

“Never! My father was ever loyal and I would be the first to know it! He would never speak against you, never fight against you, and was ever ready to send his men to battle on thy behalf.”

“You cannot rewrite history; your father was condemned as a traitor and a spy.”

Rage boiled up in Wallace’s chest, threatening to boil over. He could feel heat creep up his neck and into his face and tried to rein it in.

“And who whispered these words in your ear, pray tell? His loyal men? Men who knew him and served with him?” He looked out among the crowd. “Johnson? Davis? Miller? You knew my father, and fought beside him. You would know his loyalty better than anyone.”

The men looked startled to be put on the spot. They glanced at the king, at each other, and at Wallace himself.

Though one man did look apologetic, none of them said a word.

Bitterness crept into his heart. He felt sure that if his father had been in their place, he would have spoken for them.

Stood for them instead of allowing his reputation to be destroyed after his death.

The rage burning inside him leapt out and he couldn’t help but reprimand the men who’d not stood beside his father when he’d needed them.

“How can you face yourselves? You know my father was no traitor! And yet you stood by to protect your own skins, rather than standing up for my father! How can you live with knowing what has been done to me and mine because you stood aside and did naught?”

He looked at the king and a part of him knew he needed to cease, to close his mouth on the raw words wanting to rush forth. Anger at the injustices done to his family blasted the truth from him even as the king’s face tightened.

“How could you help but know that my father was maligned!”

“Enough!” The king yelled.

“You knew my father was innocent, and yet you listened to Dinsdale, his sworn enemy, and let him drip poison in your ear. And why? For the taxes he would pay you for transferring our properties to him!”

The king’s face was becoming mottled, and he stood and screamed, “I said enough! Guards, arrest him, and throw him in the dungeon! Take this further and I will see you hanged!”

Wallace was seized, and the crowd, now silent, parted as he was dragged away from the king.

And still, he couldn’t stop the words pouring from him. “You should have let me fight his son and let God truly choose between us! You leapt on an excuse to halt the joust! You filled thy coffers at the expense of my family! My father was no villain! Had I known that honor and reputation were for sale, then I could’ve paid you not to condone my father’s murder, not to allow our property to be stolen!”

He was almost out the door now, and glanced in Cara’s direction to see her stricken face.

Doubts arose within him once more, and he wondered yet again if she’d been in league with the Dinsdales, stopping the joust and foiling his justice.

He continued to fight as he was dragged out the door and around to the side of the house. Double doors were lifted, and he struggled as three men tried to force him down into the hole.

“We will throw you down and you will break your neck if you don’t cooperate!” one of the guards said.

Wallace tried to catch his breath. What did he care for that now? No doubt he’d lost what little he had left, leaving his mother, sisters, and Cara unprotected.

Another guard joined them, and between the four of them, wrested him down the staircase even as he fought with all his might.

He was thrown into a cage, and fell to his knees, and the door slammed shut and locked behind him.

He jumped up, swung around, and made a grab for the man’s keys, almost grasping them, but the man jumped back and laughed, and another plucked up a nearby bucket, and threw water in his face.

“That should cool you off a bit, especially come nightfall.”

Laughing, the men made their way back up the stairs, closed the double doors and locked him in.

As he grasped the bars, he tried to catch his breath, even as the chill started to creep in.

He glanced around, to find there was not so much as a chair in the small space, though it did abut a window, and he quickly crossed to it to see the courtyard, people going about their normal lives, even as he had ended his.

He punched the wall and got bruised, scraped knuckles for his efforts, shaking it out before turning around and sitting on the floor against the wall.

He knocked his head back against the stone wall once, twice, and then drew a deep breath, and settled.

As the aggression drained out of him, he kept seeing Cara’s face in his mind’s eye, stricken and disbelieving.

No doubt he was a fool.

A lackwit, and churl.

He should’ve held his tongue,

There was a reason Lord Dinsdale had been able to get the king to see things his way.

The man was a natural born opportunist, sly, manipulative, fluent in the language of court.

And what was Wallace? Wallace was a hammer, he was brash, loud, and he struck hard.

Cara had warned him, told him to pull his punches, and play the game.

He’d thought it beneath him. And what had that gotten him?

Dinsdale still won, and Wallace had lost more than ever.

In fact, he’d lost everything.

* * *

Wallace was an idiot!

She’d told him, hadn’t she? Warned him he needed to be charming, or at least to pull his punches if he wanted his side of the story heard.

She stood in the receiving line, or whatever it was, and recalled Wallace being dragged off like a mad dog. Her heart felt like it was aching in her chest. The king had threatened to hang him! It rang a bell for her. Nate had commented on a hanging scene in the movie. Wallace? In real life? Or just a Hollywood subplot? She didn’t know and it was making her sick.

Gillian reached forward and took her hand and gave it a squeeze.

Cara swallowed, appreciating the sympathy, but all she wanted to do was run after him and make sure he was okay.

She blinked back the tears welling in her eyes, and let the conversation wash around her.

People shook their heads, talking about what a shame it was, and were generally being jerks about the whole incident.

Couldn’t they see Wallace was upset by the injustice of it all? It wasn’t fair and if all of these so-called nobles would take a moment and look at it from his side of things, they’d realize it.

So far, this followed the history books. Or at least a movie script. She was beginning to see why Wallace had earned such a bad reputation.

She’d heard before that winners wrote history. And if the history books said Wallace was hung for treason, was that what she had to look forward to next?

If she hadn’t taken off the necklace, perhaps she could have grabbed him and returned to her own time, saving him the indignity of not only losing everything, but getting hanged for it as well.

She sighed. Even if she could, she wouldn’t leave him to this fate without trying to do something about it.

She didn’t dare so much as look at the king or queen, but after a moment she just couldn’t take it anymore.

Her body thrummed, and she couldn’t just stand there as if nothing had happened. Wallace had been wronged, and he wasn’t just her friend, he was someone she had feelings for.

Because he was a good man. Kind and honorable, hard-working, willing to do what needed to be done when he could have chosen bitterness, disillusionment, and self-pity.

He was trying to right a wrong. And what made it worse was the way everyone continued to talk about him, to mock and to laugh at him, as if it was all one big joke.

Pressure grew in her chest, and she just couldn’t stand it a moment longer.

“Excuse me,” she said, and made her way past Gillian even as the other woman tried to stop her.

There was a break in the conversation as people watched her go.

She almost expected to be hauled back, reprimanded for her social gaffe in leaving without permission, but instead, heard the queen murmur, “Let her go.”

She thought it was sympathy she heard in her voice, and relief made her knees weak as her emotions continued to run hot. She hurried out the front doors, and headed for their tent before she realized she was looking for Lady Helena.

Upon arriving at her tent, she drew back the opening only to discover it was empty, the blankets neatly piled off to one side, and she stood there clutching the material, feeling colder than she ought to.

“My Lady? May I be of assistance?”

Sir Gladwin gave a short bow and relief flooded through her at the sight of a friendly face. “Have you seen Lady Helena and the girls?”

“They came back to warm up for a while, and the last I saw they were at the keep searching for something to eat. Is anything amiss?”

At his concern, the tears she’d been holding back sprang to her eyes. She glanced away, her gaze flitting to the other tents, to the fire pits, to people chatting and walking about. “Have you heard about Wallace?”

She finally glanced at him, and the sympathy in his gaze told her the answer.

He gave her a quick nod and then sighed. “He is in the dungeon, at the king’s whim.”

“What can we do?” She found herself wringing her hands, like some damsel in distress, and stopped when she realized she was doing it.

Without Wallace at her side, she did feel weaker, unprotected.

Growing up with a mother who was a lawyer had given her a sense of safety, the feeling that no matter what, she would always have someone to stand for her.

Now, left to the whims of a king with a financial stake in making sure Wallace’s voice wasn’t heard, it wasn’t just infuriating, it was frightening.

“Wallace does have support, my lady. Because of the way his lands were confiscated, that makes the other nobles nervous that the same could happen to them. So, the king won’t keep him in there permanently, he is simply teaching him a lesson in keeping quiet.”

“Good to know.”

He laughed at her sarcasm. “I understand that you have the queen’s favor. Can you use that to your advantage?”

She sighed. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have walked off the way I did.” She glanced at him and away again. “Thanks for the sympathetic ear, I’m going to try and find Lady Helena.”

“I will walk with you.”

They started toward the keep, and she was glad for the company. It made her feel less conspicuous.

“I guess you know my necklace is missing?”

“Everyone knows.”

She rubbed at her chest for a moment, and then dropped her hand. “Now I am missing both a necklace and a fiancé, or a betrothed, or whatever. I’m starting to get a little paranoid that lady fate is acting fickle, and has decided I need to be punished or something.”

As Sir Gladwin waved off her concerns and told her all would be well, she latched onto the idea that perhaps she’d done something to tick off fate.

Time traveling to the past maybe? Ruining things for Wallace? She’d been attacked, her necklace stolen, and been living rough lately, and now Wallace was sitting in the dungeon.

It did sort of feel like she was being punished.

She’d once been on a movie set where she’d been part of the team doing makeup and hair for Zeus and his merry crew who had terrorized other gods and mortals alike.

She glanced up at the sky, as if to see if God were peeking down at her, laughing, and cursing her with bad luck.

It was as good a theory as any.

When they reached the keep once more, she said her goodbyes and went inside.

She immediately asked and made as if she knew where Lady Helena was, and was told she was in the upstairs solar, sewing.

She headed in that direction, going up the flight of stone stairs, and down the hallway, before opening the door into the warmest room she’d been in yet.

Lady Helena, her daughters, and several other ladies sat near a blazing fire, as they practiced needlework of all things.

She shut the door and walked over to Lady Helena and said in a whisper, “What are you doing? Do you know what’s been happening?”

Lady Helena shot a glance at the other ladies nearby, and glanced over at Dori. “Fetch another chair, lass, and the two of you scoot down so Lady Cara can sit beside me.”

Cara waited impatiently until she was able to settle herself. “Well?” She finally asked again. “Have you heard?”

“About Wallace? Of course, I have.”

“Well, what are you doing?”

“Stitching. It helps me to think.”

With a loud sigh, Cara sank back into the seat and crossed her arms.

Lady Helena sent her a sharp look, and she immediately straightened in her chair, feeling like a child getting caught out for doing something naughty.

“What’s the plan?”

Lady Helena glanced at the other two ladies in the room, and said, “Lady Lancaster, will you keep an eye on my girls for a moment?”

The lady in question, wearing a large headpiece with two points sticking up like a deranged unicorn, gave a gracious nod. “Of course, I will.”

Cara followed Lady Helena out the doors, and halfway down the hall into an enclosure, with a window that overlooked the courtyard below.

Cara felt a little more subdued at the obvious irritation in the other woman’s gaze. “I’m sorry, I’m feeling a little flustered. What are we going to do?” She said in a much more subdued tone.

“I am willing to listen to any suggestions,” Lady Helena said with a glance around to make sure no one was listening.

“What if we apologize and ask the king for his release?”

Lady Helena glancing out the window. “The king is fine with him in the dungeon and out of the way. My family is naught but an inconvenience to him now.”

Cara threw both hands in the air, walked a few steps away, and then came back again. “What are we going to do, break him out with dynamite?”

“What is dynamite?”

“It’s like a red stick with the string on one end that you light, and when the string burns down to the stick, kaboom!” She fisted her hands and lifted them in the air and extended her fingers, “The wall blows up.” That would be really satisfying right about now.

“What?”

“It explodes with such force that it knocks down the stone walls, or even chunks of mountain.”

Lady Helena quirked a brow. “Very well, where do we get some?”

Cara shook her head. “I have no idea, so we’ll have to go with another idea. Let’s see ... if we only had a wrecking ball, we could break down the walls by bashing them in.”

Oh, it felt good just to say that.

“How so?” Lady Helena asked.

“Well, it’s a machine with a big metal ball on the end. It swings one way, and when it comes back, pow!” Cara hit her fist into her palm. “It breaks down the wall.”

Lady Helena shook her head.

“No? Well, what if we tunneled under the ground and got him out that way?”

Lady Helena sighed.

Cara couldn’t seem to stop herself; she knew she was being silly, ridiculous, whatever, but she just felt so helpless, that she kept going. Besides, Lady Helena might be shaking her head, but now she was smiling.

“I do hope you become my daughter-in-law. You are never boring to be around, which is more than I can say for most.”

Both of their smiles slowly faded as the hopelessness of the situation settled on them once more.

“Mayhap I can arrange marriages for my daughter’s, for some future date, if you are able to keep them looking so beautiful.”

“They’re already beautiful, but I know what you mean.”

“In the meanwhile, I’ve heard the queen has taken a liking to you. You would do well to try and get the queen on your side, whether it helps my son or not, though the queen might influence the king.”

“I hope so.”

Lady Helena pursed her lips and nodded once more. “For now, let us adjourn to the kitchen, and we can arrange for some food to be taken to my son.”

“Good idea. Maybe we can bake a file or a lock pick inside a cake and he can breakout on his own. We can have the horses ready and make our escape!”

Lady Helena scoffed, rolled her eyes, and led the way. But her lips twitched and she bit back a smile.

Cara grinned behind her back as the older woman led the way.

* * *

Glad to have something productive to do, Cara followed Lady Helena down what turned out to be the servant staircase down to the kitchen. When they arrived, Lady Helena was quick to get the attention of an older lady who looked like she might be in charge.

“Aye?” The lady, wearing a great dress with a crisp white apron over the top of it, her hair pulled back tightly from her head, looked at the two of them, impatience in her expression. “How may I help you?”

“My son is Lord Wolfsbane, and is spending some time in the dungeon at the king’s behest.”

Cara wasn’t sure she would have started with that, but Lady Helena had plenty of experience with servants, so Cara stood silent, and kept her expression blank.

“I would like you to take him a fine meal, to make his time there more bearable. What can you serve him?”

The woman’s mouth curled in a slight sneer. “In the dungeons, you say? We don’t usually worry about sending fine meals in that direction.”

“And yet, you shall today,” Lady Helena assured her, giving her a steely eyed gaze in return.

Cara looked around and noted the expressions on the faces of many of the other servants.

More sneers of disgust, smirks, and even an eye roll.

She felt her body tense, and tried to follow Lady Helena’s lead, willing her face to show no expression as she clasped her hands in front of her.

People were already treating them differently.

If the servants were reacting in such a way, she could only imagine how the aristocracy would treat them.

She could almost feel the lack of power, and it caused her stomach to clench.

If Lady Helena felt any of the same lowering emotions, it didn’t show in her face.

Finally, the cook gave a slight bow of her head, and said, “As you will, ma’am. I will take care of it.”

“And I will oversee you taking care of it.” Lady Helena insisted, and no one in her vicinity could doubt that she would do exactly that.

The cook quickly snapped at several of the ladies, and gathered a meal while Lady Helena oversaw the entire thing.

Slowly, Cara felt herself relaxing, bit by bit. She could learn a thing or two from Lady Helena.

When a tray was prepared, with all kinds of different food, with meat, cheese, fruit, potatoes and even some desserts, Cara asked, “Can we go with them? See Wallace?”

Lady Helena followed the servant, and Cara went after her. “Nay, we’ll see it delivered. Visiting Wallace will only weaken our position.”

They stopped as a guard opened the dungeon door that led downward, and watched the other guard take the tray from the servant and carefully take it down the stairs.

When they could no longer see him, Lady Helena said, “I am going to see what I can do about finding suitors for my girls. If you can, let the queen know we would be amenable to paying taxes on the property again.”

She didn’t look happy about that at all, and Cara didn’t blame her. “I’m sorry.”

Lady Helena gave a slight shake of her head. “Better we tighten our belts than lose everything, including my son.”

Cara gave her a quick hug. “My mother is a pragmatic lawyer, and you’d get along really well with her.”

They broke apart and Lady Helena smiled. “I imagine so. I get along with her daughter so well that I can’t believe it would be otherwise.”

With that, Lady Helena headed back to the girls, and with one last look at the dungeon doors, Cara went to go find the queen.