Chapter 17

“C-Cecilia!” Elsbeth choked out, gazing into the woman’s cold eyes. Elsbeth saw them now as she’d never seen them before. They were the same evil, dark orbs as Bartram’s! Did that mean they were—

“You dare strike my sister!” Bartram growled. Elsbeth turned to Bartram, shocked by his revelation. Nasty McCaulch and beautiful Cecilia were siblings? Elsbeth realized then that Bartram’s escape and her uncle’s poisoning had surely been Cecilia’s doing. She was one of the few with the access and means to pull them off.

Cecilia glowered at Elsbeth. “It’s all right, Barty,” she uttered in her cool manner as Bartram helped her to stand. Cecilia brushed the sand from her dark cloak. “She’ll get her just dues as soon as the ship arrives.”

Bartram took Elsbeth’s bound hands and pushed her sleeves up to inspect the rope. “These scars will diminish her value,” he sneered, the cruel words ringing in Elsbeth’s ears.

“Yes—” Cecilia shrugged “—but she’ll still fetch a good enough price.”

Since hearing Calan’s words and reassurance, it would have taken a great deal more than their malicious comments to bear her down. Still, she wondered at Cecelia’s statement. “What do you mean?”

“What she means, Lady Rawley,” Bartram interjected as he retied her hands, the rope almost cutting off her circulation, “is that you’re going to fetch us a hefty amount, scars and all, from a slave ship bound for the East. It awaits my signal, as soon as you’ve fulfilled your purpose in baiting Sir Calan . . . or should I say, The Shadow?”

Elsbeth’s eyes widened. They knew about Calan too! Had Cecilia learned of his identity while standing outside the chamber door just this evening? If she had, she’d apparently only heard the last of their conversation, for no one seemed to know about her dagger, otherwise they’d have taken it.

“The note I left with that obnoxious boy informs Sir Calan that I know who he is and that I have his beloved,” Bartram mocked. “And with Cecilia learning just tonight through your open door that our trap planned for Sir Calan would also ensnare The Shadow, what luck! Two vexing birds with one stone. But he’s to come to the caves alone or you’ll die. He thinks if he brings the ransom, I’ll let you both go. What he doesn’t know is that after I kill him, you’ll be sold to the slave market, never to spread word of our deeds. It’s a more profitable decision than killing you, but don’t think for a second I won’t take your life if things go awry.”

Would Calan find Roland and get the note in time? Would Calan suspect foul play and treachery? Of course he would; he didn’t trust anyone, something she was grateful for at the moment. He would come prepared, but that didn’t mean the danger from their trap would be any less daunting.

“Take her to the farthest cave, Cecilia,” Bartram advised. “I’ll prepare for The Shadow.”

The dagger sat snug against Elsbeth’s right leg, but with Cecilia watching her close, she didn’t know how to get at it.

Cecilia nudged her in the back. “Move,” she ordered, propelling her to a limestone cave a good way down the beach. All these years, Cecilia had been playing them for fools, pretending amnesia, among other things. And she’d played the part well. No one had come close to guessing Cecilia’s secrets.

“Sit!” Cecilia commanded, pointing to a log inside the cavern. The enormous grotto, twice as high as Elsbeth’s five-and-a-half-foot frame, trailed back a good distance. Though the sand felt dry, the erosion along the rough walls revealed where the tide had invaded centuries ago. A chilly draft from somewhere deep in the chasm swept through to the open sea, cooling her body.

Elsbeth plopped down on the indicated log, not sure what to do. Cecilia sat on a large rock near the cave’s opening, staring out at the ocean in eerie silence. Bartram and Cecilia. Brother and sister. Another thing they had hidden well. Even Calan hadn’t discovered it. She wondered what other secrets these devilish siblings harbored in their dark souls.

When Calan had received the mustard, he’d forced it down Lord Shaufton’s throat. This caused Rupert to vomit, expelling some of the poison. Servants moved his rigid body to the fireplace before spooning more mustard into his mouth. Though still labored and shallow, Rupert’s breathing continued, generating hope for his recovery. Genna sat by her father’s side and stroked his hair. “You’ll be all right, Father. Keep fighting,” she whispered. Giles stood behind Genna, his comforting hands resting on her shoulders.

Calan turned to a manservant. “Has Lady Cecilia been informed?”

“I presume, but I saw her a while ago in the courtyard near the tower, sending the guards over to fight the fire.”

“What fire?” Calan and Giles said at the same time.

“In the courtyard, sir. A wagonload of hay had been set ablaze. It’s almost under control.”

“Sir Calan!” a sentry shouted, rushing into the hall. “Bartram McCaulch has escaped the tower.” Giles, whom Calan had informed about everything since Calan’s arrival in Graywall, glanced at Calan in alarm. “His partner, the servant Yancy, remains locked up. She claims to have seen nothing. No one knows how or when he got out, but it was probably during the fire.”

Calan felt apprehension creeping into his gut. He turned to Jillian, still holding the flask of mustard powder. “Has Elsbeth returned from her chamber yet?”

Jillian shook her head. “I’ve not seen her, sir.”

Calan left Rupert in the hands of competent servants and sprinted for Elsbeth’s room, Giles close behind. They reached her door and lifted the latch to open it. It was locked tight, and Calan didn’t have his picks. On impulse, he backed up and rushed the door, hitting it with his right shoulder. The massive portal didn’t budge, and he now had a throbbing shoulder to add to his other injury.

“Let’s try it together,” Giles suggested.

They both backed to the wall and advanced, hitting the door simultaneously with their arms and shoulders. The door cracked, but remained shut. Once more, the human battering rams reversed and moved forward with all speed. This time the door splintered and broke at the lock, swinging inward and crashing into the wall behind it.

Calan spied Roland bound to a chair by the fireplace, weeping. Calan removed his gag as Giles untied his fastened limbs. “Where’s Elsbeth?” Calan asked the boy.

“They took her, Sir Calan,” Roland cried, “took her through there!” Roland pointed to the tapestry. “I’ve a note!”

Calan knelt, taking the folded parchment from Roland’s shaking hands. He unfolded and read the ransom, his body shuddering at the thought of Elsbeth in the hands of that grimy villain, McCaulch. “Roland, my lad,” he said, forcing himself to remain calm, “were there others with McCaulch?”

“Yes, the one who courted Beth! Uh, uh . . . Sir Randall!”

Randall! That pathetic excuse for a human. The one he should have suspected from the beginning. If only he’d dug up more information sooner.

“I promised to take care of her,” Roland sobbed. “I promised.” Tears streamed down his freckled face.

Calan gathered the boy into his arms. “You did your best against such dishonorable men. You’re a brave soul and did well giving me the note. But now you must find Emmy and stay by her side. Don’t you worry, I’ll settle with those men.”

Roland pulled back, wiped his runny nose on his sleeve and turned his red-rimmed eyes on Calan. “Oh save her, Sir Calan, pray save her. I love her so much!”

Calan hugged the boy to him again. “So do I, lad, more than life itself.”

Calan let him go and Roland sprinted out the door. Calan stood and faced his cousin. “They’ve taken her to the coast and ask a ransom. They know I’m The Shadow, and I fear for Elsbeth’s life if armed men were to go charging in at once. We’ll have to act alone in this.”

“I smell a trap,” Giles warned.

Calan nodded. “So do I.” He pondered a moment. “Giles, follow me through the forest. Once near the beach, stay about twenty minutes behind. I don’t want to chance harm to Elsbeth should Bartram see I’ve not come alone.” Giles nodded. “Round up two trusted knights to accompany you. I’ll fill a small sack with pebbles so Bartram thinks I’ve brought the ransom. I’ll try to impede him and Randall right away, but your joining me soon after will ensure things don’t get out of hand. Let’s go.” Calan exited the broken door, Giles at his heels.

“So,” Elsbeth said casually, “your amnesia . . . a complete lie.”

Cecilia turned with a sneer and regarded Elsbeth. “I don’t like you—never have—but you’re a clever girl.”

“Just who are you, Cecilia?” Elsbeth queried, wondering if she’d even get an answer.

It seemed as though Cecilia would say nothing, but then she stated in a hard tone, “I see no reason not to tell you, since you won’t be able to divulge it as a Persian slave.” An evil smirk formed on Cecilia’s lips, sending goose bumps along Elsbeth’s arms, and she began her story. “I’ve carried secrets since I was young.” Cecilia turned to the sea as if in a trance. “Bartram and I are the bastard twins of one Lady Martha Scarborough. We were hidden away to keep her husband from discovering us, to conceal her shame. Bartram was given to local wool mongers. I was set up as servant in my mother’s own dwelling. We were each oblivious to being her children or of having a sibling. I later happened upon the truth and blackmailed my mother for my silence. I wanted to search for Bartram but heard he’d died in a fire. After years of living off my mother’s wealth, I moved on. By luck, I met someone who attested my brother was alive, and he directed me to Graywall. Bartram and I were reunited. We both loathe the noble class for what they do to others, getting rid of unwanted things for their own greed.” She stopped speaking, her dark eyes turning to bore into Elsbeth’s.

Elsbeth mentally shook her head. The hate the woman felt, though brought on by the bad example of her mother, was no reason to think ill of all noblemen. It didn’t excuse Cecilia’s iniquities. Hadn’t she, Uncle Rupert, and Genna shown they were different from others of their class, shown they cared about all classes? But Cecilia and Bartram had held onto their grudges. Elsbeth could see firsthand how hate and anger could eat away at one’s soul, eventually turning the heart to black. Those feelings had even threatened to destroy Calan in his assignment as The Shadow.

Turning to the gray sky, Cecilia continued her account. Elsbeth took the opportunity to reach her bound hands to her dagger, watching Cecelia with wary eyes. Cecilia turned again toward Elsbeth. Dash it all, Elsbeth swore as she sat up so Cecilia wouldn’t suspect her movements. Each time Cecilia looked seaward, Elsbeth barely had time to touch the dagger before Cecelia looked her way again. “Barty and I lived together for years before coming up with a plan to infiltrate the nobility. Barty needed funds to aid his business and smuggling, so staging an accident on the road for Lord Shaufton to find seemed the perfect solution. I dressed in fine clothes, feigned memory loss and won your uncle’s gullible heart. You know the rest. It was too easy. Those who trust others get stepped on and used, and it’s no fault but their own. I stole money out from under Rupert’s nose by secretly altering the bookkeeper’s records. The auditor never questioned the lady of the castle when I asked to review them. As Lady Shaufton, I became privy to information about when and where Rupert’s guards would be patrolling. We used places in the castle to hide items as I smuggled money and passed important tidbits to Bartram, making his operations less risky and more profitable. Bartram provided me with new and precious wares, as well. When I involved myself in certain procedures, I used a cloak and beard to keep my identity covert. But weeks ago, Randall’s newest lover came into play, and I utilized her to our gain.”

“Yancy,” Elsbeth whispered aloud.

“Yes, Yancy. The poor tramp. She’d do anything for Sir Randall. It was her duty to serve me without question, as well. I used her to deliver messages during her midnight visits to Randall. Stupid girl. She didn’t know the content of the notes I sent to Bartram, she being illiterate. She thought I was just ordering wool from the local monger. She met Randall upon his arrival in Graywall and they’ve been lovers since. It was all part of our plan to use her.”

Yancy’s soiled boots the night Elsbeth first met The Shadow must have been from an excursion to see Randall in the village. But since Randall tarried with Cecilia and Bartram in the forest that night, Yancy had returned without seeing him.

“After Bartram was imprisoned,” Cecilia continued, “the foolish girl told Randall about the capture, adding that she also carried Randall’s child.”

Elsbeth gasped. Poor Yancy. An innocent instrument in their cruel plot. She hoped the unborn babe hadn’t been injured when Calan had tackled her. If Elsbeth got out of this alive, she’d see to it that Yancy was released from the tower and properly cared for.

“Randall wanted nothing to do with her when he heard that,” Cecilia stated, “so we devised a plan to get the girl out of the way. During the mid-tournament feast, I revealed to Yancy that I knew of her pregnant state and that Randall loathed her. I threatened to have her banned from Graywall unless she did me a favor without question and without divulging it. I told her she’d be handsomely paid if she did well, but if she was caught and mentioned my name, I’d kill her myself. She obeyed. Dressing in my bearded disguise, she visited Bartram in the tower. I told her the password so the guards would let her in. She passed a key to Bartram along with a written message from me telling him how I planned to get him out and when. I sent the little red-haired brat with an apple to feed the horses as Yancy left the tower. I knew the boy’d see her, run straight to you, and that Yancy would be caught. The identity was pinned on her and we got rid of Yancy at the same time. She feared me too much to say anything after being caught. Bartram used the key to escape while the guards left to fight the fire I’d set tonight in the courtyard. It worked out perfectly.”

“What did Randall mean when he said I’m ‘of little use’ now?” Elsbeth demanded.

Cecilia let out a short laugh. “It was a brilliant plan I’d devised after learning of your land dowry through a half-closed door almost a year ago. Genna had been listening at the entry but had scurried away when she heard my approach. Curious, I listened to the rest of your conversation with Rupert and discovered your little secret. I later happened upon Randall, a disinherited knight willing to court and win your affections for a handsome price.” Cecilia eyed Elsbeth and smirked. “We thought you’d take anyone who didn’t run at the site of your arms, making the match a quick one. He’d have gotten your land upon marriage and given half to Bartram. What Randall would have done with you afterward didn’t matter.” Elsbeth’s jaw tightened in anger. “But now that’s ruined. Sir Calan had to show up and interfere, turning your affections from Randall. And you putting your name on the maiden list put a greater kink in our strategy. But you’re of no use to us now . . . and you know too much. By selling you to slave traders, we can at least get some compensation for the trouble you’ve caused. And there’s still a chance I’ll inherit Graywall, if my poison has killed Rupert.”

Elsbeth was horrified by Cecilia’s confessions, but now everything made sense. She thought of the evenings Cecilia had feigned fatigue or boredom, leaving early to retire. Oh, the treacherous things she must have done when everyone thought she was abed! No wonder Cecilia had been impossible to arouse with heavy knocking at her door. She hadn’t even been in her chamber. Elsbeth reflected on her first meeting with The Shadow and on seeing Bartram and the other two smugglers in the forest. Cecilia had been the female and Randall, the third participant. Cecilia and Randall had been present when Roland was caught by Bartram on his way home. Cecilia’s cold eyes were the ones she’d felt in the chapel, and it was Cecilia who had tried hiding the money in the library after the ambush.

And the conniving female attempted murdering her uncle and taking Elsbeth’s homeland by deception! Elsbeth seethed inside as she wondered over her uncle’s current state. Did the mustard get to him in time? Was it enough to save him?

“What did you do with the money from the ambush?” she asked.

“Ah, during the ambush, I hid in this very cave until the wagon arrived. For the information I’d leaked, that sack was my earned portion. I took it and left before Sir Calan arrived and caught the four fools. After you disrupted my attempt to hide it in the library among my other goods, I hid the items in my chamber until I discovered a safer place. I used the secret passage from my room that evening—” she smiled at Elsbeth’s stunned face, “—yes, you’re not the only one with a secret tunnel, my dear, and I know of all the tunnels in Graywall . . . I placed the goods in a little storeroom set in the outer wall. There my wares and earned gold safely remain even now. So you see, Elsbeth, you can trust no one. In this world, it’s every man for himself.”

Elsbeth had learned this truth more times than she liked, but she still placed great faith in God, in her close kin, and in Calan. Her trust in these entities had kept her strong and optimistic, even during this ordeal.

Elsbeth opened her mouth to ask another question when the sound of clashing swords suddenly rent the air.

Calan!