Evangeline’s vision tilted as she waited for what would happen next.
“I have no wish to incite the king’s wrath by killing you and your men. But neither can I have you attacking me on the way.” Lord Shiveley flashed his serpentine smile. “I shall simply have to take you and your son with me as my prisoners. I shall inform Richard that you have been deliberately keeping his cousin from me all this time, in defiance of the king’s will.”
At least he wouldn’t kill them.
“And that man.” Shiveley pointed at Frederick. “I recognize you as one of Berkhamsted’s stable servants. Did you truly ride all the way to Glynval to warn le Wyse? You shall come with us as well.”
Shiveley’s men forced Westley to hand over his sword while other soldiers rounded up the rest of the Glynval men and escorted them down the road toward their home village.
The men helped Evangeline mount her horse. She was surprised they let Lord le Wyse and Westley mount their own horses and did not tie their hands. But they were so outnumbered and without weapons, they had no chance to escape.
Evangeline’s heart sank as they started down the road toward Berkhamsted Castle. Westley kept glancing at her, but Shiveley made sure they were separated by several guards. Somehow she had to speak to King Richard and tell him what Shiveley had been doing.
But what had he been doing? Trying to find her? Capturing the men who had essentially been hiding her? Richard wouldn’t care. But he might care that Shiveley had tortured Muriel.
He would threaten Frederick’s life to keep Muriel quiet. Did Shiveley know of her love for Frederick and his for her? If he did, they might never be able to convince the king of Shiveley’s nefariousness.
After riding all day, Evangeline was not only desperate to get out of the saddle, her shoulders also ached from the tension of being constantly watched.
No matter how she tried, she had not been able to speak a word to Westley, Lord le Wyse, or Frederick, nor could she see that they had been able to speak to each other. How would they escape if they couldn’t devise a plan?
They were close to the castle now. In fact, the lane that led to the castle gate was just ahead. But instead of taking that path, Shiveley and his men led them around to the north side as they skirted the outer moat. Where were they going?
Soon they reached the smaller Derne Gate. No doubt the king’s men were guarding the main gate while Shiveley’s men were guarding this one.
As they drew near to the wooden bridge that led over the first moat, Shiveley suddenly ordered them all to halt. “Tie up these men. They are our prisoners until they’ve earned their freedom.”
They began tying Lord le Wyse’s hands, but Frederick fought back. Westley suddenly leapt from his horse and snatched a sword from one of Shiveley’s men.
Shiveley drew his own sword and spurred his horse toward Westley. “This one is mine!”
Westley struck Shiveley’s blade with his own, but then the earl struck a blow from his much greater height on horseback. Shiveley struck over and over, forcing Westley to take a step back with every blow as Shiveley advanced.
Finally, they were so close to the edge of the moat, Evangeline cried out, “Watch out behind you!”
Just then, Westley’s foot slipped, and he tumbled backward into the murky waters of the outer moat.
“Westley!” Evangeline jumped from her horse, but one of Shiveley’s guards grabbed her. She struggled against him, but he was too strong. She strained her eyes in the half-light of evening but could see nothing in the water, not even a bubble breaking the surface.
This was even worse than when he’d been struck and pushed into the river. At least she could see him and was free to jump in and save him. But now . . . He had disappeared under the water.
She recalled the tricks Reeve Folsham had taught her. She stomped on her captor’s foot, then elbowed him in the ribs. He made an oomph sound but only tightened his hold on her. He pulled her arms behind her back, so hard it made her shoulders burn. She screamed, but he still did not loosen his hold.
“Someone save him! Lord Shiveley, I demand that you send someone in to save him.”
No one moved and Lord Shiveley said nothing.
“If you save him, I will marry you! Willingly!”
“You will marry me anyway.” Shiveley chortled.
She glanced around to see if there was anyone who could save Westley, but Shiveley’s guards were tying cloths around Frederick’s and Lord le Wyse’s mouths.
O God, please! Westley was drowning!
Shiveley shook his head. “It is a pity. He looked to be a strong, healthy young man. But perhaps you will forget him when you are wed to me.”
She refused to even acknowledge Shiveley’s words. Except for the sickening twist in her stomach, she couldn’t feel anything.
Westley hit the water, his body sinking in the cold moat.