Page 24 of The Thief (Castle Blackstone #3)

Naked and covered in blood, Ian lay at an odd angle on filthy straw. His face was swollen near to being unrecognizable. Her beautiful Ian had been brutalized...by her own and for no reason.

“Oh, Ian.”

Sobbing, Kate grabbed the door handle and pulled. It didn’t budge.

Her father came to her side. “Shhh. Hold the light near the lock.”

From a leather pouch he retrieved several large black keys. He tried to fit the first and then swore. “Must be Newgate’s.” He tried another key.

Kate’s mouth dropped open. “You have keys to Newgate?”

“Katie, I have keys to every prison in the city.” He tried a third key. “I’ve lived in mortal fear that either you or your mother would say the wrong thing at the wrong time and be taken away.”

Kate’s world turned completely upside down. “ Surely they weren’t given to you.”

Grumbling, “This has to be it,” he worked the next key. “A cask of wine, a friendly chat until the bailiff passed out, and a block of warm wax ensured that if I ever had need of it, I would have the means for your escape.” The lock tumbled; her father blew through his teeth and pulled the door open.

Kate rushed past her father, fell to her knees beside Ian and ran a shaking hand along his swollen jaw. “Oh, my sweet, look what they’ve done to you.” She looked up to her father. “We have to get him out of here.”

“Katie?”

Kate’s attention snapped back to Ian. “Oh love, whatever were you thinking coming here? Never mind. Where do you hurt?”

In Gael he said as if to himself, “I’m dreaming, aye.”

She answered in kind, “Nay, love, I truly am here, in the Tower, and we’re getting you out of here.” She had no idea how but would die trying if need be. “Papa is here. He’ll help us.” She looked up and found her father staring at Ian. “You will, Papa, won’t you?”

“He’s Scot.” He looked at Kate in total disbelief. “Woman, what the hell have you been doing?”

Knowing she couldn’t lift Ian’s weight on her own, she hissed, “Later, Papa! Right now we need to get him out of here.”

Ian stirred then groaned in obvious agony. “Katie, go. Go before they come.”

She would spend eternity in hell first. “I will not go without you.”

Kate grabbed Ian’s arm. He cried out and her father pushed her away with such force she toppled.

“Kate, for Christ’s sake, his arms are dislocated. Mayhap even his legs. We can do nothing but offer a moment’s comfort and then get out before we’re discovered.”

“Nay!” Sick at heart, having difficulty believing what her countrymen had done, she stroked Ian’s fevered brow. “I will not leave without him.”

Her father swore lividly then hissed, “Child, you must listen. We cannot get him out. Worse, if you’re caught in here you’ll hang for treason.”

Kate, tears burning the back of her throat, rocked back on her heels. “Father, help me or leave. My future is with him. Be it at the end of a rope or elsewhere. On this I will not waver.”

“Katie.” Ian’s voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.

She leaned over him to better hear. In Gael she murmured, “Aye, love. What?”

“Can he understand us?”

She looked at her father and whispered, “I do not think so.”

“Listen to him. He speaks the truth, love. I can’t move, and you’re are putting yourself at risk for no reason. I need to know that you’re safe. I cannot endure what I must if I fear for you. They need only mention your name, threaten to harm you, and I would spill all I know. Leave!”

“Nay.” There had to be a way.

“Katie,” her father growled, “do you realize in helping him you’ll be giving up your king and country, all you hold dear, mayhap even your life?”

She looked up at the man who had sired her, but who had been too afraid to love in the face of adversity. Never more sure of anything in her life she whispered, “Aye, Papa. I love him that much.”

Her father sighed. “Then get your basket and tear your undercoatie into strips and be quick about it.” To Ian he grumbled, “You know what needs to be done.”

Ian grunted since it was all he could manage, furious that Kate was in the Tower, furious that he had put her in such danger, and furious that she had brought her father, who might prove a danger to them both.

Templeton whispered to Kate, “Quick, give him some wine and then kneel at his head.”

Kate settled as she’d been told. “Can you open your mouth?”

Ian did with a minimum of discomfort which he found reassuring. He was either almost dead or his jaw wasn’t broken. Good news either way. He drank deeply, knowing what Templeton was about. Closing his eyes Ian started preparing himself. Kate, on the other hand, protested when Templeton put a cotton gag between Ian’s teeth. He would have told her not to worry but speech was impossible .

Her father ordered, “Kate, slide forward and put your knees on his shoulders--as close to his neck as possible-- and hold on for dear life.”

Templeton grabbed Ian’s right wrist with both hands and placed a firm foot on his shoulder. As Ian groaned Kate hissed, “Papa?”

Templeton jerked, and Ian saw stars, brilliant as any in a winter sky, as pain shot through him in all directions. Unable to breathe, he took consolation in realizing he hadn’t shamed himself by screaming in Kate’s presence.

He wasn’t able to suck in a deep, shuddering breath until Templeton placed his arm across his naked chest. And it wasn’t over and both men knew it.

Kate, whimpering, stroked his cheek and removed the gag.

He managed to croak, “More wine, lass.”

Kate brought the wine bag to his lips and he opened his eyes. God, she’s lovely even with her face streaked with blood and awash in tears.

He drank, never taking his gaze off her, still not fully convinced her presence wasn’t a dream. That she really was at his side, that he might again walk outside these walls.

“Kate, again.”

‘Twas Templeton and he had taken hold of Ian’s left wrist. Sobbing, Kate placed the gag between his teeth and settled her knees on his shoulders and her hands on either side of his head once more .

Ian tried to relax, to breathe deeply through his nose and hold tight to the image of her lovely face as Templeton’s boot landed next to Kate’s knee. He felt the jerk clear to his toes, and then the world turned black.

“Kate, quick. We need to bind his arms to his chest. His left forearm is also broken.”

Kate did as she was told. Ian had yet to awake despite her slapping his cheek. “Oh, God, Papa! Is he going to die?” Oh, please no, please.

“Not if we can get him on his feet and out of here. Hurry, child. Your tears can wait for later.”

Kate’s hands shook like an old woman’s, but she finally got Ian’s arms secured to his chest.

Her father wrapped his arms about Ian’s waist. “He’ll be in a good deal of pain, but at least his shoulders are now as they should be. Come, we need make haste and get him dressed.”

Together they managed to get his blood-stained clothing on then drag him out of the cell and prop him up against the corridor wall. Her father ran back into the cell, collected her basket and relocked the door.

“Papa, I can carry him if you can get him on my back.”

Her father snorted. “Woman, think . He weighs sixteen stone.”

How could he possibly know she, nearly as tall as Ian, couldn’t carry him if they didn’t at least give it a try! Fearing the doxies would be gone soon, Kate pleaded, “Please, Papa. We cannot drag him with any speed and will only hurt him if we try.”

“Katie.” Ian opened his eyes. “I can walk. I just need a wee bit of help.”

“Oh!” Kate kissed him, cooing at him as if he was a child.

“Lass, just help me.” God, women could be so...

Templeton grabbed his waist. Ian wavered, bile clawing its way up his throat as his ankles and hips screamed in protest from their time on the rack. Deep breath in, deep breath out.

They shuffled, wavered, groaned and slid their way like sots toward Traitors Gate.

Templeton slowed, peered out an aperture and then pulled Kate’s silk cloak from her basket. “You put this on. Put mine on him. Wrap your arm about him as if he were I and do not let go of him until you get to the road.”

Kate muttered, “But the guards?” She told him how she’d entered through the west gate with the help of the doxies. “We need to leave the same way.”

Her father shook his head. “You can’t get him that far and then onto the roadway. Not in his condition.”

“Yes, we can. You and I together, we can get him out and then leave, forever.”

Templeton’s voice sounded hoarse as he told her, “I’m not leaving with you, Kate. My life is here. I’m too old to start over. Besides, if we both disappear we’ll draw suspicion. ”

“But—-”

“No buts, daughter. Once you go through the gate you become an enemy of the crown. I’ll go to Campbell and James now, so should they be asked, they’ll say that you came to get my book. I’ll tell anyone who asks that I felt better, came as well, and you left immediately with me. Stay to the shadows and take the first wagon you come to. Head west. The soldiers will likely search north, toward Scotland. I’ll leave through the west gate in only a few minutes, but do not dally. You do not have the luxury of time.”

Seeing Kate was ready to protest, Templeton murmured, “We have no choice, Kate. Should I catch sight of you when I come out, I’ll help you, but again, do not dally or you’ll find yourself back in here.” His piece said, Templeton took a firm hold of Ian again.

By the time they hauled him through the inner Traitors Gate, Ian was ready to fall on his face. Seeing a shallow stone recess, he whispered. “I need to rest.”

Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

From his perch he could see the shadows of four guards chatting among themselves beneath huge oil lamps only yards away. Shit. To Kate he said, “Fear not. We’ll make it.”

Exhausted and terrified, Kate pressed a hand to her forehead. “Ian, your hubris speaks. I doubt you can get through the gate, much less walk along the wharf without Father’s help.”

“Lass, ‘nothing is too high for the daring of mortals...’”

She took his face in her hands and kissed his bruised lips. “Horace, yet ‘we storm Heaven itself in our folly.’” Despite her tears, despite all she was about to lose and a very questionable future ahead, she somehow found the strength to smile and say, “As you wish.”

God, he loved her so, and his heart ached for her as she wrapped her arms about her father.

Against Templeton’s cheek she whispered, “I shall write as soon as I can. And I do love you, Papa.”

Templeton hugged her back in awkward fashion. “Do so as soon as possible for I shall worry until I know you’re safe.” Using the heels of one hand to clear his eyes, he whispered, “I love you, daughter. God’s speed.”

Ian cleared the thickness in his throat. “My thanks, sir. I shall cherish her.”

Templeton, his anguish in losing his daughter evident, only nodded and, shoulders hunched, turned and walked away.

Unable to fathom the amount of trust and love it must have taken for the man to do such, not sure he would have been able to do it had their roles been reversed, Ian muttered, “Katie, I forbid ye...to have daughters.”

She brushed the tears from her cheeks. “You do, do you?”

“Aye.” He had no desire to ever walk in Hugh Dupree Templeton’s shoes .

Kate took a tight hold on the fabric at his waist. “Lean on me as much as you dare. Once we’re past the gates we’re turning right and going west along the wharf. There we’re more likely to find a horse and mayhap a wagon.” She kissed his lips. “Ready?”

He wasn’t, but it was now or never. “Aye.”

She positioned the hood over his head so that it covered most of his face, and he grit his teeth and stood as straight as the bandages, a broken arm and his broken ribs would allow.

As they approached the guards Kate said in a chastising tone, “Father, if I’ve told you once I’ve told you a dozen times not to eat those oysters at Pickwicks. What need you do? Die? Ah, I see you are going to heave again, aren’t you? Well, not on my slippers. So help me, if you vomit on me one more time, I’ll toss you into the river.”

Ian groaned mightily as if he was about to heave which, given his pain, could well happen and saw boots scamper backward.

After saying good night to the guards Kate took more of his weight and half-carried, half-dragged him out of the Tower of London.

When the pain grew to near blinding and he wavered, Kate whispered, “If you don’t last long enough to teach me Kits in a Basket, I’ll never forgive you.”

God, he loved this woman. “If I don’t...I’ll never forgive... myself . ”

What transpired over the next few minutes he couldn’t say, so acute was his pain, and then next he was falling. Helpless to stop it, Ian grit his teeth and prayed he wouldn’t scream when he landed.

Only four steps along the dark wharf Kate knew in her bones that Ian couldn’t walk to the nearest stable, much less ride out of London. Their only choice for a speedy escape sat rocking at their moorings in an oily river just a yard to her left.

Abreast of a row boat of a size that she thought she might manage, Kate glanced over her shoulder. Seeing that no one was paying them any heed, she tossed her basket into the boat and then, holding tight to Ian, stepped off the wharf and into the little boat’s bow.

With a groan, Ian fell as lifeless and heavy as a rolled carpet, knocking her backward and knocking the breath out of her. The boat rolled as did Ian, and she could breathe again.

When the boat settled, Kate, praying she had not done him more harm, asked, “Are you alright?” She couldn’t tell, given the poor light.

“Uh.” He grimaced as she tugged on him and set the boat to rocking again. “Katie, sit. Please, before you drown us.”

“But you’re so—--”

“ Please just get us away.”

Kate looked toward the Tower clock. Almost midnight. The guards would be making their rounds and raising the alarm at any moment. “Don’t move.”

Ian muttered something as she crawled over his legs and untied the rope holding them to the wharf. One hard push and they were floating backward between two large, single-masted vessels. A moment later the current grabbed them and they were floating backward down the Thames in the direction of the sea...and to her horror, directly toward a looming four-masted galleon the size of Madrid.

“Augh!” Kate scrambled for the oars.

From his position on the damp floorboards Ian grunted, “What’s amiss?”

“Naught. Not to worry.” Kate’s hands shook as she frantically shoved the first oar into an oarlock and reached for the second. Never having rowed before in her life, she prayed as she dug the oars into the water and paddled.

“Turn around.”

In no mood for criticism since she’d made almost no progress and they were now drifting at breakneck speed toward the galleon’s Cyclopes-like bow lamp, she hissed, “I’m doing the best I can.”

“You’re facing...the wrong way.”

How the hell did he know which way they were going? He was lying below the boat’s walls. She slung the oars forward and pulled again for all she was worth and suddenly sailors were above her shouting, “ Heave to! ”

Heave to where? The saints preserve her .

“God’s teeth, woman!” a sailor yelled. “Ye’re sitting backward. Turn around! ”

Oh! No wonder the rowing was impossible. She scrambled around and picked up the oars as more shouting came from the galleon’s crew on watch. Two pulls and the boat surged...toward the ship! “Oh no. No, no!”

“Oh shit.”

Kate looked down to see Ian staring up. She looked up and found the ship’s bowsprit hovering above her.

“Use only yer left oar, woman!” someone shouted from the ship’s rail.

She dropped the right oar and grabbed the left with both hands. Using her back and legs she pulled over and over again, not daring to look over her shoulder.

And suddenly they were sliding past the ship’s side, staring up at dozens of open portals, miles of rigging and long yardarms. Her arms, back and thighs aching, Kate collapsed over the oar.

“Ye did well.”

Kate wiped the stinging sweat from her eyes. “What idiot decided one must face backward to row forward?”

Not expecting an answer she glanced over her shoulder and found a dozen more ships at anchor waiting for the outbound tide to turn before they could make their moorings and unload their wares. “Lord have mercy...”

Ian, grimacing, rolled to face her. “Love...the oar you dropped...before we lose it. ”

“Oh, of course.” She reached over him, making the boat rock and Ian groan yet again. “Sorry.”

Hours later, having passed the snaking curves that marked Greenwich and now into a straighter, wider stretch of the Thames, Kate pulled in the oars and rested her stinging hands in her lap. The long blisters coating her palms would burst the next time she grabbed the oars.

“Ian?” Kate stroked his cheek with the back of her hand and found his skin hot and dry. She gave him a gentle shake. “Ian, please open your eyes.”

When he didn’t respond, Kate, panicking, looked about. She couldn’t pull to shore. They were still within an easy ride of London and might be confronted by soldiers.

The current was fast and rowing double their speed. The sooner they reached the coastal marshes, the sooner she could seek help. Or at least find a horse and wagon.

Kate picked up the oars.

~#~

Feeling heat on her face, sensing a bright sun on her eyelids, Kate yawned and stretched, only to feel her back muscles revolted. “Ooow.”

Good Lord above. She then noticed the boat unusual rocking.

Kate bolted upright. Rolling silver and green sea surrounded her in every direction. “Oh no! Merciful mother in heaven.”

The Thames had carried them out to sea.