Lady's Ransom (The First Argentines, #3)

“I know that place,” he answered.

A strong premonition struck him as he looked at Cecily. He heard two children splashing in the cistern waters, their laughter echoing down the long tunnel. Then a grating sound came, and he sensed the waters of the cistern had begun to drain toward the river and the falls. A feeling of panic entered his chest, making him put his hand to the wall to steady himself. He couldn’t explain himself, but he feared for the life of the children.

Cecily touched his arm, a look of concern in her eyes. “Are you unwell?”

He looked down into the black hall of the cistern, hearing the children’s cries of terror. It was obvious only he could hear them. It baffled him, but he felt a strong connection to the pair, as if he were the boy and Claire the girl. But it wasn’t a memory—he was certain they’d never come down here before. What was happening to him?

“I’m all right,” he said as the premonition began to fade. His knees strengthened again, and the fear ebbed.

“Some people cannot abide enclosed places,” she said. “Come with me. We’ll be out soon.” She lightly tugged on his arm, and the two went around the ledge until they reached the other side of the cistern. Another tripped latch opened a door into a different dark tunnel.

The sound of the river grew louder as they walked down a twisted series of stairs. They passed through another stone door and stepped into a warehouse full of crates, illuminated by light shining in from the upper arched windows.

“Where are we?” he asked her.

“We’re above the king’s docks,” she answered. “The rest of the journey will be out in the open. But at least no one saw us come this far.”

They made their way out onto the cobbled street full of carts and horses that had brought goods from the docks. The roar of the falls could be plainly heard now, and he saw the spike of the sanctuary of Our Lady rising from its island in the center of the falls, connected to the land on each bank of the river by stone bridges. Ransom felt more confident amidst the familiar surroundings. He glanced back at the castle atop the hill and noticed a number of stars had appeared in the sky.

No one paid them any notice as they passed the sailors and merchants attending to the arrived goods. After they descended the stairs to the docks, Cecily led him to the ship that would take them to Brugia.

“Our first destination is Callait,” she informed him. “We’ll arrive there before dawn. It has a deep harbor, so we won’t need to wait for the tide. From there, we’re supposed to ride to Marq under escort, but I suspect Longmont will have a man waiting for us there with additional news.”

They approached the ship and quickly boarded it. One of the sailors made a hand gesture to Cecily, and she responded with one of her own. The sailor then looked at Ransom and gave a subtle nod. He had to be one of the Espion that Simon had sent with them.

“Let’s get you out of sight for now,” Cecily said. She brought him belowdecks to one of the main cabins.

“Once Longmont’s here, I won’t be as friendly with you,” she said. “But trust that I’m on your side, whatever you may hear me say.”

“I want to trust you,” he replied, looking at her. “Don’t give me any reasons not to.”

She nodded and slipped away. As Ransom sat waiting, his thoughts strayed to Brugia. The Brugian king had died, and an heir had not yet been chosen. The situation they were going into was unstable.

Ransom heard Longmont’s grating voice as he descended the steps toward the stateroom. The walls were thin enough that he could only make out a few words, but the tone was familiar. He was already giving orders, one of which included the command to “make way.”

The ship was shoved from the dock by mooring staves, and soon the creaking noises and swaying increased as they left the harbor of Kingfountain. Having felt he’d waited long enough, Ransom left his room and walked the few steps to the stateroom. He twisted the handle and pushed it open.

Longmont wore a wide velvet hat, expensive furs, and a costly gold chain around his neck. He had his arms folded imperiously as he spoke to several men gathered before him, including two more knights wearing the Lion badge.

“I cannot overstate the importance of our mission,” Longmont was in the middle of saying. “The very fate of Ceredigion hangs . . .” His voice trailed off as his eyes met Ransom’s. Recognition battled with intense and sudden terror.

“Lord Ransom!” he gasped in shock. “What are you doing here?”

“Did you really believe the Duchess of Vexin would entrust you alone to rescue her son?” Ransom asked pointedly.

Longmont blanched, and his hands began to tremble. “I . . . I thought . . . oh dear.”

“Where are the Brugians keeping the king?” Ransom demanded. He saw a smirk on one of the knight’s faces. The two others looked abashed.

“I h-heard it was Marq,” Longmont said.

“We both know that isn’t true,” Ransom countered. “Do you know where he is?”

Longmont had totally been caught off guard. He swallowed and groped for the edge of the nearest chair and sat down in it. “The duchess sent you?”

“Answer me,” Ransom demanded.

“I don’t know where he is,” Longmont said. “I have a man awaiting us in Callait who will tell me. I assure you, Lord Ransom, that—”

“I don’t think there’s anything you could say that would reassure me,” Ransom interjected. “If King Estian finds out I’ve left Ceredigion, then he’ll unleash his full fury on our realm. It is imperative that we get to Benedict swiftly to negotiate a ransom. I think we both agree that is our mission.”

“Yes, my lord,” Longmont said meekly.

“Good. Now get out of my room. Let me know when we get to Callait.”

Longmont rose from the chair, swallowed nervously, and then nodded in submission. Ransom caught the flash of anger and humiliation in his eyes, but he met the look with one of indifference. After the room had been vacated of the entourage, there was a small tap on the door. Cecily entered and shut the door behind her.

“Well done,” she told him. “He’s going to try and slip away in Callait. He’s not thinking clearly right now. He’s a fool.”

Ransom folded his arms. “Have him watched.”

“That’s already done,” she answered. Nodding to him, she turned and slipped away.



The fortress of Callait overlooked the harbor, and men with torches patrolled the ramparts even in the middle of the night. Being a port city, Callait was constantly under threat by sea, but it had strong armaments and walls. The town was quiet, but the port was open, and they made berth quickly.

They waited on deck until an officer from the harbor came to inquire. He had a thick accent and a sour expression. Ransom let Longmont do the talking.

“You came in ze middle of ze night,” said the officer. “The inns are crowded. Where do you hail from?”

“My name is Longmont, I am the high justiciar of Ceredigion. Awaken the castellan of the fortress and tell him we have arrived to negotiate for the release of our king.”

The officer looked at him, his brows furrowing, and then burst out laughing. “I’m a lowly harbormaster, and even I’ve heard of you, Master Longmont. I’ll not waken the castellan, for he deeply resents such intrusions on his sleep. Come in the morning, and you’ll be seen. Hah! High justiciar indeed.”

Longmont’s face went crimson with anger. “Do you mock me, sir?”

“I mock your pretense. You cannot give orders here. You are in our kingdom now.”

“I demand an audience with the castellan now,” Longmont insisted.

The harbor officer spat on Longmont’s shoe and walked away.

Although Ransom had no fondness for Longmont, he had the urge to hoist the harbormaster off his feet and thrust him into the water. Still, he suspected that might not be the wisest course of action. After he’d witnessed enough of the man’s humiliation, he took him aside.