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Caryn winced as the horse stepped into a rut, jarring her stomach against the hard ridge at its withers. She was bruised and battered from her journey through the forest and the tall knight’s brutal treatment. She was thirsty and tired and afraid.

What had happened to Ral? Had he been injured, mayhap even killed? She had worried every step of the way, yet she believed with all her heart that he still lived. She would know, something told her, if aught untoward had occurred.

At present, another worry loomed before her, for as she turned her head, she saw Malvern’s green and white colors, then the appearance of a huge green silk tent.

The tall knight pulled rein on his horse, and she felt rough hands lifting her down.

As her feet touched the earth, one of them shoved her toward the tent.

When she reached it, the flap was lifted and she was thrust inside.

At the sound of coarse laughter, Caryn turned, but it was not Lord Stephen that she saw. Instead it was Beltar the Fierce, his greasy black hair and beetle-browed face just as harsh as she remembered.

Malvern sat beside him. “Welcome, my lady,” he said as though she had merely strolled in for a visit. “’Tis kind of you to join us.”

“Kind? That is what you call your vicious abduction?” Though she addressed herself to Malvern, she surveyed the interior of the tent, noticing the riches, the lustrous silks, heavy tapestries, and exotic furs.

Her eyes widened as they returned to Beltar, for she suddenly noticed the slender blond woman, gagged and bound hand and foot on the thick Persian carpet at his feet. “Ambra!”

Beltar chuckled gruffly, and Caryn tensed. “What does she here? And why do you so mistreat her?”

“I am afraid your friend was not nearly as reasonable as you, my lady. Mayhap you can convince her ’tis in her best interest to cause us no more trouble. If not, she will remain just as she is.”

Caryn hurried to her friend’s side. There were bruises on her cheeks, and dried blood marked her lip. “H-How did she come to be here?”

He chuckled again. “’Twas simple, really. A message was sent that she was needed in the village. My only mistake was in sending just two of my men to fetch her. They look nearly as battered as she.”

Caryn smiled with a hint of satisfaction. Reaching down, she clasped Ambra’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Will you agree to cause no more trouble?”

Ambra nodded.

“She will do as you wish.”

Beltar made a motion and the ropes were cut from Ambra’s hands and feet. Caryn removed the gag.

“You are all right?”

“I am fine—no thanks to them.” Ambra rubbed her chafed wrists while Caryn turned a hard look on Stephen.

“What is it you want from us?”

“’Tis not what I want from you, Lady Caryn… although at a later time, once my sister arrives, you may be certain there will be much that I will demand. At pr esent, what I want is the ransom I mean to collect from your husband.”

“And Ambra? Is she also to be ransomed?”

“Nay,” Beltar said with a smugly lecherous grin. “The wench belongs to me.”

Ambra opened her mouth to argue, but Caryn clamped hard on her arm.

“I am hungry,” Caryn said. “I am also thirsty and tired. ’Tis certain Lady Ambra feels the same. Unless you intend to inflict further cruelty upon us, I ask that we be allowed to refresh ourselves.”

Beltar started to object, but Stephen’s raised hand gave him pause. “Take them to the smaller tent. See they are fed and allowed to tend their needs. Then tie them up and leave them until they are summoned.”

Beltar relaxed against his high-backed chair. “You may be certain that you will be called,” he said to Ambra. “I intend to enjoy your charms before this night is ended. ’Tis my plan that you provide the evening’s entertainment.”

Ambra bristled, but Caryn propelled her forward. “Do not be foolish,” she warned. “We are naught but women. There is little that we can do.”

“Naught but women!” Ambra fumed but the man behind her merely shoved them out the door. Caryn heard Beltar’s rumble of laughter as they were marched across the camp toward a smaller tent at the rear.

“How can you let them—”

“Do not waste your strength when you are so badly outnumbered. Let them believe we will not fight them. In the meantime, take stock of what you see, what might be of use to us later.”

Ambra smiled with understanding, but her smile was gone by the time they reached the second tent.

“There are forces enough here to wage a small war,” she whispered. “Far more than would be needed were ransom their only purpose. ”

“Aye,” Caryn said, disheartened. “’Tis a siege they intend. ’Tis obvious they mean to take the castle, and I fear it is not far away.”

Both women said nothing more. Even was Ral yet alive and unharmed, there was no way he could defend against such a force as Stephen and Beltar had assembled.

“We must find a way to warn them,” Caryn whispered as the men thrust them through the small tent opening and lowered the flap. One knight took up a position out front while the sound of footsteps meant the other man stood at the rear.

“How can we warn them? They are certain to watch us closely. Beltar has… plans… for me, and there is no telling what Malvern intends for you.”

Caryn shivered. She had seen Lord Stephen’s cruelty the night he had taken the novices from the convent. He would see her pay doubly for having escaped him… and because she now belonged to Ral.

“If we are careful, we may yet find a way. Do not be discouraged.” But even as she said the words, her pulse beat dully. Sweet Blessed Virgin, how could they possibly escape?

***

Ral saw the heavily guarded walls of Braxston Keep and knew that in his absence, Odo had discovered Malvern’s presence. He hailed the wardcorne, who called for the bridge to be lowered, then motioned for his men to follow him in.

It hadn’t taken long to reach the castle. They had been close to home when Stephen’s men had attacked them, which meant Malvern and his men were far too close at hand. Odo met him in the bailey, Richard beside him, both men’s faces lined with worry.

“We feared for your safety, my lord,” Odo told him. “I am glad you are returned.” He took in the four injured men being helped from their horses. “Malvern? ”

“Aye. He fell upon us near the crossroads. Two men are dead and they have taken Caryn.”

“Sweet Jesu!”

“Ambra has also been taken,” Richard said. “In our search for her, we discovered Stephen’s men. There were too many for us to fight so we were forced to return.”

“I had hoped we had seen the last of him,” Ral said bitterly. “Were it not for William’s friendship with his father, he would have tasted the thrust of my sword.”

“There is more, mon ami,” Odo said. “I fear Lord Stephen is not alone. He has joined forces with Beltar. ’Tis a virtual army we face outside these walls.”

“And they have our women,” Richard added.

Ral’s jaw clamped. “Aye, that they have.” He turned and started striding toward the stable. “They will start by demanding a ransom, but I fear ’tis Braxston Keep that they are truly after.”

“I believe you are right,” Odo said.

“We must get word to William. His support in this is crucial, though against such forces as Malvern has assembled, his help may come too late.” Ral turned to his squire, who followed along in his wake. “Ready Satan for me. ’Twill soon be dark. I would see for myself what we must face.”

“Aye, milord.” As the young lad hurried away, Richard walked up beside him.

“This time I would go with you.”

Ral started to deny him, to tell him he would better serve by staying in the castle. But he knew the twisting fear he felt with Caryn in the hands of his foe, and that unless he was bound in chains, there was no one who could stop him from going after her.

He nodded. “Make yourself ready. We travel by cover of night, taking only a handful of men. Odo will stay here and see to the keep’s defenses.”

“I intend to return with my wife,” Richard said with some defiance, his eyes fixed firmly on Ral’s face. “’Twas my intention to do so long before this.”

Ral smiled with soft menace. “You may be certain my intentions are the same.”

***

“I can hardly force down a single bite,” Ambra complained as they stood beside the table in the small tent at the rear of the camp.

A few feet away, scarlet silk cushions rested on a thick Persian carpet.

In one corner sat a screen inlaid with mother-of-pearl, and sleeping pallets had been fashioned on the floor.

“We must eat,” Caryn said. “We will need to keep up our strength.” A tray of roasted wild duckling had just been brought in, along with a flagon of wine.

“Aye, but I am too worried to eat. Besides, ’tis stringy and tough and—”

“Aye,” Caryn agreed, her head coming up, her eyes alight with the first uncertain stirrings of a plan, “that it is.” She leaned closer to Ambra. “What say you we pretend that you are choking? When the guard comes in, I will hit him over the head with the flagon of wine and we will escape.”

Ambra smiled and thrust a duck leg into Caryn’s hand. “I am bigger than you. You pretend to choke and I will hit the guard over the head.”

“With your months in the troupe, you are far better suited to acting. You—”

“I tell you I am bigger!”

Caryn sighed as Ambra picked up the wine flagon and moved it into position atop the table. “All right,” Ambra said, “pretend that you are choking.”

Biting into the greasy duck leg, it wasn’t that hard to pretend. As Caryn started to sputter, Ambra pounded her on the back and began to worry aloud for her safety. All the while, Caryn continued to cough and wheeze.

“Help us! Someone help us!” Ambra ran to the tent flap and jerked it open. “She is choking. The Lady Caryn chokes to death on a duck bone. Please, you must help us!”

Unfortunately, both men rushed into the tent. While Caryn rolled her eyes and clutched her throat, gagging and wheezing and teetering forward, the men looked anxiously on. With a final sputtering gasp, she sucked in a great gulp of air and collapsed to the floor of the tent.

“I must go for help,” the first man said, but as he turned, Ambra swung the wine flagon, smashing the heavy jug over his head.

When the second guard spun toward the sound, Caryn scrambled up from the floor, grabbed the pewter tray filled with roast duck, and slammed the heavy metal against the side of his face.

“Bitch!” He swayed on his feet, but did not go down, just began an ominous move in their direction.

“What do we do now?” Ambra asked.

“I-I am not certain.” He was blocking the entrance and even should they try to run he would signal the others before they could get away.

“A few well-deserved bruises should not matter to Lord Stephen,” the man said with undisguised malice, balling his hands into fists as he moved toward them.

Above the hammering of her heart, Caryn heard a faint buzz somewhere behind them and turned to see the blade of a knife zipping upward through the tent.

The guard saw it too but before he could reach the spot, a huge bare-chested figure appeared through the opening.

A powerful arm snaked out, wrapping around the guard’s throat.

He squeezed then twisted, and the guard slumped unconscious onto the floor of the tent.

“’Tis Gareth!” Caryn said excitedly to Ambra. “The Saxon warrior the villeins brought to the keep.” She turned to the huge golden-haired knight with a smile. “I am more than glad to see you, Lord Gareth, but how did you know we were here?”

A grim smile darkened his features. “I have been watching since Malvern’s arrival.

Think you I do not know who he is? There is not a Saxon warrior for three hundred miles who does not know of Malvern’s cruelty—and despise him for it.

” He motioned toward the hole in the tent.

“There isn’t much time. We can talk of this later. ”

Her heart still beating wildly, Caryn followed him from the tent, Ambra hurrying along behind them.

In minutes, they were swallowed up by the thick trees and bushes surrounding the camp, but still they pressed on.

In the darkness it was difficult to find sure footing.

More than once, Caryn winced as a sharp branch dug into an arm or leg, or her ankle twisted in a hole.

“We dare not stop,” Gareth said quietly. “Too soon they will discover you are missing.”

Caryn nodded. Ignoring the cuts and abrasions the dense growth inflicted, she and Ambra followed Gareth along, making their way toward Braxston Keep. When they came to a clearing, they paused, Gareth’s tall frame suddenly going alert.

“Stay here,” he whispered, indicating a place in the shrubbery as he moved stealthily off into the woods. Caryn crouched low beside Ambra, clutching her friend’s slender hand. When a twig snapped beside her, Caryn nearly leapt out of her skin.

“’Twould seem that much of our worry has been for naught—would you not say so, Richard?”

“Ral!” Caryn came to her feet and he swept her into his arms. “How did you find us?” she asked. “How did you know we were here?”

He tightened his hold protectively around her. “’Twas Gareth. He spied us coming through the forest.”

“’Twas Gareth who helped us escape,” Caryn said.

Richard smiled, Ambra snug in his arms. “Gareth says ’twas mostly that you helped yourselves.

He said ’twas your courage that saved the day.

” He touched Ambra’s cheek, saw the purple bruise there, and anger suffused his features.

“Other women would have acted no more than frightened lambs led to the slaughter. Once I thought I wanted such a woman. I was wrong.” He kissed his wife’s cheek. “And I am proud of you both.”

Caryn looked up at Ral. “Malvern means to take Braxston Keep. He has gathered a sizeable army.”

“Aye. Gareth has shown us.”

“Where is he?”

“Somewhere in the forest. He will help us if he can.”

“And Malvern?”

“Our only chance is in holding the keep until men loyal to me can arrive.”

Caryn nodded, shivering inside to think of the death and destruction the siege would bring—and wondering what would happen to them all should help not arrive in time.