Niall moved quickly to the door despite the darkness, having memorized both the distance and all within his path in the last moment before snuffing the light. He caught his breath at the sound of footsteps, flattened himself against the wall and prepared to strike.
The door flew open, a sentry cursed as a thin ray of light fell into the chamber. Niall ascertained the man was alone, then locked his fists together and clubbed the guard over the head.
“Niall!” Majella cried, but Niall was not interested in reassuring his sister in this moment.
The guard fell soundlessly. Niall hauled him out of the way and eased the door shut behind him. He divested the guard of his keys, his boots, his helm and his tabard, donning them all in a hurry. He bound and gagged the guard deftly, using the man’s own hose to render him helpless.
“Matthew?” he muttered.
“Aye?” The boy’s voice wavered in the darkness.
“Hit him again if he so much as stirs. I entrust you with this task.”
“Aye, Uncle,” the boy agreed, his assent launching a tirade of questions from the others.
“But Niall, what are you doing?” Majella cried.
“Where are you like going? What’s happening now?”
“Be silent!” Niall chided, then hauled open the door. He heard a flurry of movement, and someone brushed against him. He assumed ’twas Matthew and hissed a warning to the others. “Stay here and feign sleep. I will not be long.” Niall fitted the key the guard had held into the lock once more, then checked the corridor between himself and the exit.
No one but Odo in his chamber. Perfect.
He would fret about the guards in the keep above once he encountered them.
Niall took a deep breath and stepped out into the corridor, feigning nonchalance as he reached back to pull the door closed behind himself. He paused. In truth, he was peering down the hall, growing accustomed to the way this helm restricted his vision. Reassured, he pulled the door shut with a clang and turned the key.
“And be quiet, you miserable lot!” he roared in the very same moment that he saw he had been followed.
Too late Niall realized that the soft brush of cloth had not been Matthew.
It had been Viviane.
A remarkably determined Viviane. She stood with her arms folded across her chest, undaunted by the glare Niall fixed upon her. Now that he had slammed the door so decisively, he could hardly open it again without drawing the attention of other guards and prisoners.
“You will not escape talking with me,” she declared in a heated undertone.
Niall cast a desperate glance down the corridor, finding mercifully they were yet unobserved. “Viviane, this is neither the time nor the place…”
She poked him hard in the chest and her eyes flashed. “Then I will follow you until it is the time and the place, until we have talked about what has happened here and until I know exactly what you’re thinking! Niall of Malloy, if you think for one moment…”
Footsteps sounded in the cross corridor and Niall clapped one hand over Viviane’s mouth. She gasped as he hauled her back into the shadows. He stood facing the corner, Viviane sheltered before him, her pulse fluttering beneath his hand. He glared at her, hoping she could see enough of his eyes to believe the seriousness of their situation.
“Be still!” he muttered, daring no more than that. Niall prayed that Viviane could not be seen, and that she did not choose this moment to challenge him.
A guard paced past Odo’s chamber with heavy footsteps and glanced in their direction.
Niall’s heart stopped when the man halted, and he was certain ’twas all gone awry before he had even begun.
“All well, Paul?”
Niall said the first thing that came to mind. “Having a piss in the corner, ’tis all,” he retorted gruffly.
The other guard chuckled. “I leave you in peace, then.” He saluted mockingly. “Enjoy.”
He turned and strode away. Niall did not dare to breathe until his footsteps faded from earshot. And then, he was not inclined to take his hand from Viviane’s mouth.
Not until he had had his say. “You are not coming with me,” he said, his tone low and savage. “’Tis neither your place nor your task.”
Viviane protested beneath the weight of his hand and Niall gave her an impatient shake.
Time was wasting!
“Viviane! ’Tis dangerous! I will not risk your welfare in this!” He dropped his voice to a growl. “The best deed you can do is return to the cell and ensure that all remain calm.”
“Never!” the lady uttered beneath his hand. Before Niall could swear, she squirmed and pulled his hand to her chin. “I’m going with you, to make sure your welfare isn’t risked,” she said with that stubborn tone he had begun to recognize.
“I forbid it!”
“Then I will follow you,” Viviane insisted.
The worst of it was that Niall knew she would do it.
“What manner of woman are you to show such disregard for your own welfare?” he demanded with no small measure of annoyance.
To his astonishment, Viviane smiled. “I’m a writer,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “And you were the one who assured me that I should do my research.”
“What nonsense is this?”
She tapped him in the middle of his chest, admiration dawning in her eyes yet again and seriously affecting Niall’s determination to leave her behind. “I want to see a hero in action. You’re going to get my moonstone, aren’t you?”
And Niall smiled despite himself. He shook his head but she smiled up at him, so certain of his course he had to challenge her. “What makes you think as much?”
“It’s the only way out.” Viviane smiled. “We can all wish upon it and be gone. But there’s no way all of us could retrieve it without being caught. And I know that if anyone can get us out of this, it is you, so you must be planning to fetch the stone and return it here.”
Niall studied her, the light in Viviane’s eyes bolstering his conviction that he truly could repair all that had gone awry. Indeed, ’twas hard to resist the temptation of spending a little longer in Viviane’s company before they were parted for all time.
“You will do as I bid you,” he insisted gruffly, knowing full well she would not. He gripped her shoulders and stared down into her marvelous eyes even as her smile broadened. Indeed, he suspected he had not fooled her a whit—she seemed just as persuaded as ever he was her knight.
And Niall could not honestly say he was disappointed. Still, he had to guard his tongue and not give her a reason to be unhappy once their paths parted as indeed they must.
He did not trouble to correct the false assumptions in her summary of his plan. ’Twas true he meant to retrieve the stone, ’twas true he intended to bring it back here.
But that was so Viviane and Monty could leave as one. Niall briefly considered the wisdom of fetching Monty now, but discarded it immediately. The man could not keep silent and he was too odd in appearance. He would attract attention, the last thing they needed.
To be sure, so might Viviane, but Niall could not deny himself this last indulgence of her company.
“You will heed me, you will do naught that is reckless. And you will be silent.”
The lady threw her arms around Niall’s neck and kissed the tip of his nose through the front of the helm, nearly bouncing in her anticipation.
“I knew you would let me come,” she declared gleefully. “Just as I know that I’ll get the truth out of you. You must have some feelings for me, regardless of what you say, and I’m not leaving your side until I know the truth of it.”
Niall’s blood froze that she should be able to read his thoughts so readily as that. He glowered at her, to no visible effect.
But Viviane appeared jubilant and Niall knew there was only one matter that made her as happy as this.
Zounds, but she was going to talk of love again!
’Twas only a matter of time. And Niall knew himself well enough to know he was a poor liar, certainly poor enough that Viviane would not be deceived.
He had no time to waste.
“Where are we going?” the lady demanded. “And what are we going to do? How are we going to save the others? I just knew you would have a plan, because that’s what real heroes do—they have a plan and they take a chance and they put themselves at risk to see the people they care about safe, and you know…”
Niall enforced his dictate for silence in the only way he knew for certain would work. He caught Viviane’s jaw in his hand, bent down and kissed her soundly.
As ’twas likely to be his last taste of the lady, he made it a kiss to remember.
Indeed, when he was done, Viviane clutched his shoulders as though she could not trust her legs to keep her upright. She ran the tip of her tongue across her lips so slowly he nearly kissed her again. Niall’s heart thundered as Viviane stared up at him with wonder, as though he had hung the stars in the firmament.
That sense of invincibility redoubled in a most intoxicating way. Niall grinned down at Viviane and tapped the tip of her nose with one fingertip. Truly, he could not resist teasing her.
“Finally,” he said, heaving the sigh of a man sorely tested. “Silence!”
And before Viviane could comment or even gasp, Niall pivoted. He seized her hand and led her down the empty hall at a hasty pace. Truly, they had already lingered overlong.
For Niall knew there would be no second chances this night.
Viviane realized very quickly her impulsiveness could cost them both dearly. Niall, after all, looked just like any of the other guards in the keep and could have passed undetected without her presence beside him. But even with Odo’s cloak over her shoulders and the hood over her hair, Viviane was an oddity whose presence prompted questions from all they encountered.
After the second intervention, Niall clearly got tired of making up tales, then having to knock out the questioner anyway. He cut right to the chase—as Monty would have said—and took the third sentry down before the man could even open his mouth. Niall had harvested a sword from the first sentry and a dagger from the second. He now entrusted Viviane with the dagger of the third.
“Hide it,” he instructed tersely, gripped her hand and moved on.
The corridors of the keep were filled with shadows, only lit periodically with flickering torches. The keep was silent, that silence only periodically interrupted with the distant sound of footfalls or snores. The corridors twisted and turned, branching over and over again, and Viviane was glad Niall knew the way.
And that he certainly did. He moved quickly through the labyrinth, deftly dodging from shadow to shadow, his boots making no sound on the stone floors. Viviane tried to follow suit, though she was sure anyone would be able to hear the frightened pounding of her heart.
But after that third guard, they encountered no others.
In fact, the keep was almost too quiet.
They reached the hall and traversed its brooding breadth. The act of stepping out of the shadows made Viviane understand how exposed a wild creature could feel on leaving the underbrush. She was certain a thousand eyes followed their course from the half-hidden doorways circling the room and knew she saw the gleam of eyes more than once.
But Niall cut a brisk pace to the stairs, then shoved her up them. The sentry at the first floor made a soft cry when he fell, Niall and Viviane freezing for a breathless moment until ’twas clear none would come to his aid.
A pair of servants slept along the corridor here, the very sight troubling Viviane. Niall strode on, his step silent, and just as they passed the second sleeping servant, Viviane tripped. She caught herself and snatched at Niall’s back to keep from falling, her inadvertent move prompting him to glance back.
His eyes flashed emerald fire and his arm flew out. Viviane jumped at the close proximity of the clang of steel on steel.
That last servant had leaped to his feet and had meant to strike them down. Viviane gasped and got out of the way, her eyes widening in horror as the men battled.
The fight was swift, the servant equipped with only a small blade. Niall dispatched him with a trio of blows, each harder than the last, and the man slumped to the floor. Viviane eyed his fallen body in shock as she understood fully the danger of their course, but Niall seized her arm, his expression grim.
He jerked a thumb in the direction of the next staircase and urged her onward once more. This time, he kept his blade unsheathed and Viviane knew he expected a challenge.
She remembered that these stairs led to the archbishop’s chamber. Niall must be assuming the moonstone was still where he had thrown it, though how he imagined they would snatch it from under the archbishop’s nose, Viviane couldn’t guess.
Maybe the man slept heavily.
Maybe he slept elsewhere.
Niall must know something she didn’t know.
The stairs were more narrow here, the shadows deeper. In fact, it seemed as though a cold draft flowed down the stairs like a silvery fog. Viviane could almost see it, despite the darkness, and thought it was seeping from under the door at the summit. It glowed faintly, the light increasing as they progressed up the stairs, and reminded her unexpectedly of her moonstone.
But fog didn’t spread within a keep.
She and Niall exchanged a puzzled glance, their steps slowing of one accord. Niall shrugged and they continued on, their gazes flicking from one side to the other. Nothing but bare stone greeted their eyes, not a sound echoed ahead or behind. A single torch was mounted above the landing at the top of the stairs, its light dancing over the stone.
Viviane’s palms were damp, her breathing was short, her heart was pounding. They halted on the tiny landing before the door and Viviane had a very bad feeling about what was behind it.
Not just because this was the chamber where she had most recently been condemned to die.
The fog around their feet now obscured their legs below the knee. It was luminescent and so cold that Viviane shivered involuntarily.
Niall pushed the tip of his sword gently against the door.
It was unlocked.
The door opened inward without a sound, yawning wide open just from that single slight touch. The cloud of silvery fog rolled forth to engulf their legs completely, but that wasn’t why Viviane gasped in astonishment.
The archbishop stood there, his gaze fixed upon them. “Do come in,” he invited amiably, a thread of steel in his tone.