A Knight's Vengeance Read Online Free PDF

with sweat. "Milord, Viscon saw the lady heading for a stairwell. She is trying to reach the bailey."

Triumph coiled inside Geoffrey. "Excellent." He signaled to the armed men awaiting his order. "Troy. Paul. Bring the matron. We will meet you at the stairwell."

Dominic frowned. "We intended to take only the lady."

"Mildred will ensure that Brackendale's daughter cooperates."

"Milord, is that wise ? ' Twas cramped in the wagon with ten of us. To find room for two mo —"

Anger flared inside Geoffrey, hot as burning oil. "Do not question me in this. Go!"
    Dominic hesitated, then nodded and hurried away.
    Geoffrey arched an eyebrow at Troy and Paul, and tipped his head toward Mildred. "Now."
    "I will not go with you." She retreated from the two advancing men, step by step, until she hit the whitewashed stone wall. She lashed out with the cartdle, but one of the men knocked it from her. Snuffed out, it rolled away under the bed.
    Cursing, she struck out with her arms and legs. The men grabbed her wrists and restrained her.
    Mildred panted. "Tell your idiots to release me, de Lanceau, or I shall scream."
    "Do not waste your breath. I would regret ordering the guards to knock you senseless. Yet I will, if you try to scream or refuse to do as I bid."
    "Harrumph! You do not frighten me." She inhaled.
    Geoffrey softened his voice to a lethal murmur. "Do you wish harm to come to your lady?"
    His theatrics had the desired effect. The color drained from Mildred's face. "You . . . you monster. I will never let you harm Lady Elizabeth."
    "She is far more valuable to me alive and well."
    Mildred's lips pursed. "Pah! You would tell me all kinds of lies to get your way, you thick-skulled, swine-bellied—"
    Geoffrey walked out the door. "Bring her."

*      *      *

Her breathing ragged, Elizabeth stumbled to a halt and pressed her hand against her pinched side. Footfalls echoed in the passageway behind her, and she wondered if they belonged to her servants, or de Lanceau's cohorts.

Wraithlike shadows, surrounded by torchlight, grew across the walls behind her. She imagined the men's jeers and coarse laughter when they trapped her.

A man who burned the harvest had no mercy.

De Lanceau would not show compassion for his enemy's daughter.

A scream burned Elizabeth's throat, but she swallowed the cry. She must not yield to fear. Her father and the castle folk depended on her.

She must not allow de Lanceau victory.

Forcing herself back into motion, she ran into an adjoining corridor. Through the wall torch's hazy smoke, she spied the entry to the stairwell. Relief washed through her like a spring rain. When she reached the inner bailey, she could shout the alarm. The door was at the bottom of the stairs.

As she entered the stairwell, her mantle's brush became amplified to a whisper. The tap of her slippers echoed. The musk of damp stone enveloped her. Her mind roused images of hideous, fanged ghouls slithering out of the cracks in the mortar. Shuddering, she squashed her imaginings and pressed on.

Darkness descended with her. The torches further down had gone out. Biting her lip, Elizabeth reached out to find the wall, and her palm skidded across mildewed stone.

Had her father not ordered the servants to keep the stairwells lit at all times?

For a panicked moment, she started to turn back.

She could not. She must secure the keep.

Her foot slid down to the next step. Almost there.

Only a few more steps to go.

A scuffling sound came from behind her.

She froze. Someone else had entered the stairwell.

She held her breath. Waited. Listened.

Whoever followed tried to be quiet, but had difficulty judging the stairs' width.

A hand bumped her shoulder.

Elizabeth shrieked and bolted forward into the darkness. Her pursuer swore. Her right foot slipped out from beneath her, and she fell. Her head and right arm slammed against the wall.

Dazed, she struggled to stand. She righted herself.

Her pursuer grabbed for her