“Where is she?” she asked.
Lenore started to move away, towards the apartment door that led out into the inner bailey. “I will show you,” she said. “Please? Will you come with me?”
“Where is your sister?”
“Outside of the postern gate,” Lenore said. “What we have for you was really too big to be brought inside. I promise I will not touch you or lay hands upon you in any way if that is what you are concerned with. We simply want to give you something as a token of our sincerity. Will you not come?”
Isalyn and Isabella looked at each other before Isalyn finally shrugged. “Very well,” she said reluctantly. “But Isabella is coming, too.”
Lenore nodded her head. “Please,” she said. “She is welcome to see it, too. Truly, my lady, we are very sorry. We hope to prove it to you.”
She was rushing out into the inner bailey with Isalyn and Isabella reluctantly following. The dark clouds from the north were starting to move southward, so another storm was on its way. But for the most part, it was still a sunny day. Lenore was up ahead, leading the way, as Isalyn and Isabella walked arm in arm.
“What do you think she has for me?” Isalyn whispered.
Isabella shook her head. “I do not know,” she said honestly. “It could be a hive full of bees.”
“Or rabid dog.”
“A gang of angry Scotsmen?”
“A pack of hungry wolves?”
They started laughing, though the subject was quite serious. They were both wary and trying to pretend that they weren’t. Isalyn finally sobered.
“This probably is not the smartest thing we could be doing,” she said. “But I suppose everyone deserves another chance. Although this goes against my better judgment, I would not be happy with myself if I simply denied them and turned away. Already, I feel like the wicked new wife, sending the younger sisters of the first wife away even though I know they brought it upon themselves. What do you think about their need for forgiveness?”
Isabella sighed heavily. “I think they are capable of anything,” she said. “Whatever happens, I would advise not going outside of the gate until we know just what this ‘gift’ is.”
Isalyn looked up to the wall walk of Blackpool. The inner wall was slightly taller than the outer wall and it had a walk that went all the way around, including the kitchen yards and the postern gate. In fact, she could see Christian on the wall over near the great hall and she pointed.
“Look,” she said. “There is Christian. We are being watched, so I feel a little better.”
Isabella could see Christian, too. He was armed with a crossbow, as most of the sentries were on the wall walk to be able to act on an attack at a moment’s notice. That was the usual weapon from the walls.
“I suppose,” she said. “But let us get this over with and return to your dress.”
The women were in the kitchen yard by this time. Over to their left was the infamous pigsty that butted up against the apartment block. The last time Isalyn was here, she had been covered with mud and rushing to find Barbara and Lenore, so she hadn’t really given the kitchen yard much of an inspection.
It was a very large yard, one that covered about one third of the entire inner bailey. Off to the right was the actual kitchen, a large outbuilding that had kilns built into the walls and a massive fire pit several feet away from it. Even as Isalyn and Isabella walked through the yard on Lenore’s tail, they could see that there was a butchered hog on a spit, roasting over an open flame in preparation for the evening feast that was still several hours away.
All of the servants seemed to be collected over on that side of the yard, working for the coming meal, and the section that Isalyn and Isabella were passing through was vacant. There were a few small outbuildings, the buttery and another shed, and once they neared the postern gate, the view to the kitchens was blocked.
The postern gate was ahead. It was a heavy iron door, incredibly dense and reinforced because at the rear of the fortress was where the outer wall and the inner wall were the closest proximity. The outer wall was mostly the ancient wall built by the Romans more than a century ago and, in this section, it followed the natural slope of the landscape so that it was much lower than the inner wall. There was a moat between the inner and outer wall here, with a path and a small bridge that led to a second postern gate, built into a small gatehouse that was heavily reinforced.
Because the land beyond was a marsh mostly, and the tree line was about a half-mile away, anyone crossing it would be a sitting duck for the crossbows on the wall, so this area wasn’t considered much of a threat and was therefore not heavily watched. Lenore was far enough ahead that she reached the gate built into the tall inner wall first, shoving it open, and Isalyn and Isabella slowed their pace as they neared the open gate.
That was their undoing.
Suddenly, there was as dull thud and Isabella fell to the ground. As Isalyn bent over to see what the matter was, someone grabbed her by the arm. It was a strong, biting grip and Isalyn found herself looking into the face of a man she didn’t recognize.
He was older, with graying hair and a sloppy beard, and his gaze focused intently on her.
“You look like him,” he muttered, his breath foul. “I see Steffan in you, Lady Isalyn.”
He was holding something in his hand and it took Isalyn a second to realize that it was a sword, but he was holding it hilt upward, like a hammer. As Isabella groaned, it occurred to Isalyn what had happened.
Panic surged.
“You hit her,” she hissed, trying to yank her arm free. “Why did you hit her? Who are you?”
The man was trying to sheathe his sword and hold on to Isalyn at the same time. “Shut your mouth, Woman!” he hissed. “You’re coming with me.”
Isalyn went from stunned to panic to full-blown hysteria. She began to twist and fight, trying to yank her arm from him as he held her fast.
“I’m not going anywhere!” she yelled. “Let me go!”
The fight was on.
The man, whoever he was, was strong. Unable to sheathe his sword, he tried to hit Isalyn in the head with it as he’d hit Isabella, but Isalyn dodged and kicked and scratched. She started to scream and he was forced to drop the sword, pushing her roughly against the wall, hard enough to knock the wind out of her.
He clamped a dirty hand over her mouth.
“Be quiet or I will kill you where you stand,” he growled. “You’re coming with me.”
In her terror, Isalyn brought up a knee and rammed it into the man’s privates. He faltered and loosened his grip enough so that she was able to break free, but he was on her in an instant, grabbing her by her long hair and falling on top of her when she tripped and fell forward.
Using his body to pin her down, his hands went around her neck, squeezing as she struggled to breathe and scream. Unfortunately for Isalyn, she couldn’t get her hands up from the way he was pinning her and the world was starting to go black. She tried her hardest to scream, to fight, but he was heavy and strong, and he had her trapped. The world began to fade and her struggles lessened.
Soon enough, everything went black.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
He thought it looked rather odd.