So they returned to Ludlow with less than two hours before dawn. The plan was for Geist to enter Ludlow as a traveling priest and unbar the postern gate that was nearest the kitchens. At the moment, it was soundly locked. David would have his charger waiting by the gate for a swift getaway, but he planned to be inside the gates come sunrise. He wasn’t sure how to conceal his identity until Geist pointed out that he could dress as a farmer or peasant and enter unnoticed. But if the lady was going to be put to the block at sunrise, then security would more than likely be tight and David was going to have to think quickly on his feet to avoid being shut out altogether.
A little more than an hour before dawn, Geist rode to the great portcullis of Ludlow and announced himself. The men at the gate were suspicious of him and at one point, turned him away. But Geist was able to convince them that he was exhausted, and ill, and simply wished shelter for the remainder of the night. So the soldiers let him in and one followed him to the stable, where he was to rest and feed his donkey. Geist was quite congenial as he removed the rough-fashioned saddle from the animal’s back and began wiping it down. When the soldier, bored with the latest addition to Ludlow, yawned and averted his attention for a moment, Geist whacked him on the head with the butt of a dirk he had tucked into his belt and the man fell like a stone.
As Geist gazed down at the fallen soldier, a thought suddenly occurred to him. It was a brilliant idea, in fact. Several minutes later, the soldier was stripped of his clothing, bound hand and foot, and buried under a pile of dirty straw.
David took the soldier’s clothing gladly. The man was taller than he was, but David was broader, making the clothing and armor a bit tricky to maneuver. The helm covered his entire head plus the bridge of his nose, making it almost impossible to recognize him. As Geist explained the layout of the ward, including what looked like a common area where he saw some soldiers manipulating a great stone block into place, David pulled on the remainder of his stolen armor and the two of them slipped in through the postern gate and into the shadows of Ludlow.
There was nothing to do now but wait for sunrise and see how events would unfold. They didn’t even know if Rhys was alive or dead, or if the lady was even alive, but they would know soon enough. Both Geist and David carried a crossbow, concealed, plus whatever weaponry they could handle. Their primary focus was on freeing the lady, but if Rhys was still alive and anywhere in the vicinity, then it was imperative they free him, too. They needed his sword and David would not let the man die without doing everything in his power to save him. Rhys was not only a friend, but he had saved David’s life on many occasions. The most recent was the night they had sent the lady into hiding and Rhys had used his crossbow to dispatch a warrior that had the upper hand on David when his charger slipped in the mud. David remembered that clearly. Now it was his turn to return the favor.
Everything was resting on their hastily formed plan and David had been praying steadily on it for quite some time. He prayed that his brother would not arrive before he could get to Rhys and Elizabeau because the fortress would surely be locked down in that case, making escape impossible. He prayed for another miracle in a week that had already seen one.
God help them all.
***
The vault in the gatehouse of Ludlow was dank and dark but for a small slit in the door that allowed some light to come through. There was a torch lit somewhere in the corridor, enough so that Rhys could see Elizabeau’s face in the weak light.
He had been gazing at her for the better part of an hour, trying to figure out how to get them out of the mess they were in. As he inspected her features, the lovely lines, delicately arched brows and pert nose, he was coming to feel like a tremendous failure. He had known at the inception of this mission that success had less than even odds; still, he had truly believed that he would not fail. He believed that he would see his mission through to success and emerge a man of stronger reputation and wisdom. As it was, he had failed in nearly everything. He had succumbed to emotion and reasoned things through with his heart and not his common sense. It made him ill to think on how horribly he had failed. Their current situation was proof.
So he struggled to divert the negative thoughts weighing down on him. They would not do him any good; not now. He was at the end of the road as far as most would determine, but he could not let it end this way. He knew that he loved Elizabeau with all his heart and the child she carried fortified him with determination such as he’d never known. When he looked at her, he saw more than just a failed mission; he saw his life as he had never expected it to be. He saw his wife, his son, and he knew that he would protect his family at all costs. He would not, could not give up, not until the last breath left his body.