The ride was tortuous, and no viable opportunity for escape presented itself. Guy gritted his teeth and laid out schemes and stratagems in his head. Oh, how he missed Hood's reckless, half-formed plans.
Elias, for her part, despaired, for her children, for Guy. Vaisey had been a threat to her and her family for so long that this reality had never been far from her mind. She had never believed him dead. Not as she had Guy.
Her prays to the Holy Mother and saint Anne to preserve all she loved in safety, kept her mind from the awful truth of their situation.
Guy prayed too, for divine intervention. Prayed, but continued on their way into Vaisey's own private hell.
They passed through the barbican and into the main courtyard with little fuss. They were expected.
"He was what?" Vaisey's face broke into an almost benign smile.
"Fuckin' 'er, my lord. 'e 'ad 'er naked in the woods, 'e did," the sergeant reported, stern faced.
Vaisey folded his arms and chewed his thumb nail. This was an interesting turn of events. The cousins' taste in women so similar…? He grinned as a thought took him. Oh yes, this was good, this was justice.
"And where are they now?"
"On their way 'ere. As you instructed my lord." The sergeant looked pleased with himself. He was determined that the jumped up Captain de Lacy, would never threaten him again.
"Well, off you go and prepare a nice dungeon, we do have a spare one?"
"I believe we do, my lord."
"Hmm, get it ready for…well, we shall see."
Guy pulled Elias along beside him through the cold stone corridors towards Vaisey's solar.
"You must rail at me, rave, be distressed," he hissed at her.
She tried to keep up, her feet bare upon the freezing flagstones. She was still clad only in her shift and shawl, and the cold castle walls struck icily at her.
"If I can keep you safe for one more day, I will have all the intelligence needed. Just one day."
"Ha, nice. Oh, very nice. The little seamstress is back in our fold. I have missed you." Vaisey slid forward as Guy pushed Elias forward into the darkened room. Outside, the sun had risen. The streets of the town began to stir, as tradesmen, artisans and housewives went about their business on the sunlit morn, ignorant of the drama being enacted in the castle.
Elias cursed the circumstance that had brought her to the market that day. Yes, she had Guy once more, but with him he carried the danger that would destroy them if it could.
Vaisey.
Assuming a disinterested stance, Guy held her upper arm tightly.
"Did she fight you de Lacy? Give you any trouble?" The older man stood too close and Elias shuddered.
"None, my lord. She was…most compliant, obliging even." Guy allowed a smirk to creep into his voice. Then he threw her a look of disdain.
Even though she knew it to be for show, it cut her.
"So I heard. Felt it necessary to fuck her did you? I do not remember giving any such instructions?"
"I thought it a boon, my lord. For the inconvenience."
"Well, I'm all for a little 'rape and pillage' when useful. But I may have wanted her ripe for myself. In future, ask."
"I apologize, my lord." His voice sounded bored, unaffected by the act.
"Was she responsive… succulent?" Vaisey pondered her from the back, rubbing his chin, as though considering whether to buy a useful dog.
"For a peasant, she was tolerable good." How he spoke the words, he knew not. Inwardly, he seethed at the look of perverted interest, which had overtaken the other man's features.
"Oh, did I mention what my intentions for the little leper were?"
Guy maintained his composure. Phillip de Lacy cared nothing for any peasant woman.
"I do not believe you did, my lord."
The former sheriff ran a sharp nail along her shoulder. Elias gasped and shot forward. Vaisey smiled, his jeweled tooth glinting. He pinched her cheek, like an awful distortion of a maiden aunt. "Hmm…plumper." He ran the flat of his hand over her belly, leaning over her shoulder. His breath hot on her neck. "Oh, and a mother too. How sweet."
Elias tried to clench all her muscles tight so he would find no softness on her.
Guy clenched his jaw, sword hilt biting deep into his palm. Eyes begging Elias to forgive him as he watched his former master's lewd inspect the woman he loved.
"Yes, she will do very nicely." He paused, then sneered, "your child is Gisborne's?"
She refused to answer, turning her face from him.
"Oh, come sweeting, he's dead is he not? You no longer have to pretend you actually liked him." He stopped his teasing tone." Did you have his brats? A nice little daughter. Now that would be interesting. I could help with her… education. Oh, adopt her, that would be… suitably charitable." He chuckled alarmingly and stood back. "Well," picking up a piece of parchment from the table he turned to Guy. " I want you, de Lacy, to meet some of my guests. We are to have a gathering this even, just a few of my closest friends, like-minded men. With England's good at heart." The abrupt change of topic worried Guy.
"Is that so, my lord, and what of personal gain, will it be involved?"
"Our good is England's good, does that not follow?"
"Indeed, my lord." Guy hoped in vain that Vaisey was loosing interest in Elias.
"In the great hall you will find my lord Wessex, talk to him. I need to hear what a fresh pair of ears would make of him."
"Yes, my lord." Guy knew he would have to leave her. He had no choice.
As the door closed, Elias clenched her fists tighter.
"Well, little chick, here we are. Better late than never I suppose." He was close again, his breath on her face.
She drew back, he followed. He sniffed at her.
"I can still smell the stink of Gisborne cock on you. Methinks I should have you cleaned." He considered her, then turned to the nearby guard. "You, fetch water…No, wait." He smiled, it turned into a grin. "The entertainers that my lord of Wessex brought with him, where are they?"
The great hall of Leicester Castle was imposing, larger than Nottingham. The vaulted timbers high above were well carved and painted royal blue and gold. Tapestries of jewel colours, telling stories of mythological beasts, fairy queens and golden knights hung about the stone walls. There were few windows and the space was lit with the orange and yellow flicker of burning pitch torches. A massive frame hung from the high ceiling, it carried two dozen bees wax candles that burned bright and clear. The melted wax dripped into cupped holders, to be saved, remolded and used again
The room was hot, the trestles laid out in a horseshoe shape and weighed down with all manner of exotic fruits and wines. Twelve men in rich dark robes sat indolently enjoying the feast of well-roasted meats and clever pastries. The best that could be concocted.
Guy was seated, but silent. His cup, half full, had rested in his hand a full hour as he thought of the Black Knights, his former concerns, ambitions, and despaired of the man he once was.
Knew who they all were. He knew what these men were here for. Knew who they all were. Knew which could be bribed or 'convinced' to change their course. He had even mildly suggested a contact with his master, Count Baldwin, to one of the number. Sir Stephen of Huncote had expressed his disaffection with the cause of the Black Knights to 'de Lacy'. His own manor lay close by, and Vaisey had encroached too often onto his estates with no regard for his property. Sir Stephen was brother-in-law to the Earl of Shrewsbury, who had the ear of the king. Vaisey, in his arrogance, had thought to use the connection to his own ends. But he regarded Huncote as a young dolt and belittled him. Baldwin could use such rifts.
Then Guy's missions would be at an end, obligations fulfilled. He would be free to regain his life, his family.
If he still had one.
Elias was not in the dungeons. He had searched. She had not been taken from Vaisey's apartments. Guy had been told by the grinning guards, with knowing winks. Guy knew Vaisey would not rape her, he might well watch while others did, but sexual congress he reserved for young boys and younger girls these days.
With a shrug of disgust, Guy closed his mind to such thoughts. What Vaisey did with his whips though, that worried him.
But the lord of the castle had been sat at the head of the table for the last two hours, and Vaisey took his time with his pleasures. No, Elias was almost safe for now. At least while Vaisey was in his sight.
But once out of sight, it was entirely different. Guy had sent word that assistance was needed, but if the assistance was slow in coming or worse, the plea ignored, then all could be lost.
What meaning would his life have if she were gone from it?
His children, their children.
He drew himself inward. Self-respect, no longer based on position or wealth, his arrogance and anger, now replaced by the primal urge to protect his family.
"Gentlemen, my lords, your attention please." Vaisey clapped his hands. Faces turned to him, Guy's included. "Tonight's entertainment has mostly been provided by my lord Wessex. Tumblers and such like." He waved in the general direction of the said lord, dismissively. "But the climax is a special treat from me, and I am sure of your enjoyment." He bowed as the company clapped and cheered.
The music thrummed and swelled now. The performers leaped and danced into the centre of the hall. Men clad in multi-coloured hoses, torsos bared. They tossed knives, batons and coloured scarves into the heated air. Their speed and agility, breathtaking. Knives were deftly caught. Batons twirled in nimble fingers and sailed upwards with flashes of silken ribbons catching the flickering light.
The music flowed and ebbed, crashed and thundered, following the frenetic rush of the actions.
Guy was watching his former master with care not to betray his concern. He spoke idly to the drunken knight at his side. The man practically dribbled as the women of the troupe slid between the men. Scantily dressed in ragged silks, they pressed their bodies against the now sweating acrobats. Guy was more than familiar with such 'entertainments'.
It suddenly crashed through his brain what the climax Vaisey had eluded to would be.
Elias would be in this sensuous, writhing mass.
She would be the climax.
Wretchedly, he looked about him. He had to find her and somehow spirit her away from this. His message would still not have even reached its destination by now. He was her only hope.
He alone.
Too late, the music changed.
Gone was the crashing, thumping heat. Now it was a slow curling, sinewy whine.
The performers parted and an almost naked woman was led forward. Her hands were bound by a silken rope and she lurched, almost drunkenly, her eyes half closed.
Benumbed by some physic. Guy swore and closed his eyes.
Her body glowed a honey colour in the torch light. Her hair swung loose to her waist, its waves laced with glittering baubles. About her waist a girdle of a golden chain hung with shining coins that just covered her pubis. Her breasts were draped with sparkling multi-coloured stones; they swung with each faltering step.
Guy heard the lustful groans of the other men, saw the lips being licked at the sight of her.
Damn it, his own loins tightened and swelled at what he saw. She looked like the captive queen of an exotic land readied for her sacrifice.
Guy's soldiers mind ran over the odds at survival if he snatched her now?
Nil.
If he waited till after the 'entertainment'?
Better.
But could he wait and see her defiled by God knew what?