Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty Alex was relieved that Bridgette’s’ family hadn’t killed Bowden for taking liberties with her, though Lord Arrington had blackened Bowden’s eye when he learned that Bridgette and Bowden had shared a tent. The fact that Bowden and Isobel were handfasted as well as betrothed had been the only thing stopping Bridgette’s overprotective brothers from pummeling him. Lord Arrington was a burly broad chested man of six feet with jet black hair and blue eyes who reminded Alex of his father. The fact that Lord Arrington loved his children was obvious in how he looked at them, but what was equally obvious was that he expected them not to act like fools and if they did he wasn’t above a cuff to the head or a tongue lashing. It was now late in the afternoon and Alex’s men had informed him that they had only counted thirty-odd men manning the keep. They’d also noted that several men had ridden away with what looked like supplies adding to Alex’s confusion that men had left the keep and not returned. What kind of leader would let men just ride away? The men on duty were also not very diligent in their work apparently napping while on duty and not making full circuits of the walls. Alex was beginning to think that there was something amiss. His other nagging question was why was there no evidence of an alarm being sounded of the escape of Bridgette and Isobel? Surely Dagda had to know that the women were gone, if he didn’t why not? He had gone to the trouble to kidnap Isobel and now he simply didn’t care, it made no sense. Had he thrown Isobel and Bridgette in the cell and decided to let them rot again it made no sense, especially as Isobel had said that Dagda had sent another lord to fetch a priest to wed them. Isobel had said she bloodied Dagda’s nose, had she perhaps hurt him so badly that he was resting. But that made no sense, wouldn’t his men check on his valuable prisoners. Nothing was adding up and it was driving Alex mad. “Bridgette tells me you wed Isobel.” Lord Arrington said abruptly dragging Alex from his thoughts. “I did, I am a lucky man for she is an intelligent and beautiful woman,” Alex replied. “She is indeed I was hoping one of my four idiot sons would ask her to wed them as she is like a sister to Bridgette but none of them had the sense or the guts to do it.” Lord Arrington said. “What are your plans to extract that bastard from the keep?” “It would seem that Dagda while a vicious bastard does not have his keep well defended. At midnight I plan to make a two-prong attack, we will create a distraction at the north wall, and when they respond storm the gate while I lead my best men through the secret passage and up into the keep.” Alex looked over to see lord Arrington nod. “I could use your help and your advice while I have ridden to battle I have never laid siege.” “Neither have I, I have spent the past twenty years fighting raiders and securing my country’s borders from invaders but my men at your command. Tell me more of your idea and I will tell you what I think.” “Agreed and thank you for your honesty,” Alex replied. “Now how many men do you have with you?” “Thirty- five men at arms and my four sons who while idiots at times can all fight like ten men each.” Lord Arrington replied. “That should be more than enough.” Alex grabbed a stick from the fire pile and then leaning forward smoothed the sand and gravel flat before him than using the stick began to sketch the keep. “This is my idea.” Dagda had gone to Raymond’s quarters not really believing that Raymond would have the guts to leave him. Raymond had been under his thumb for ten years doing whatever Dagda had commanded or risk being exposed as a traitor. Raymond had always been a spineless fool that was easily controlled, so why would he leave now that they were close to victory. True he had started striking Raymond of late when he’d displeased him and threatened him more than once but for the cur to actually leave was unthinkable. Dagda had searched Raymond’s spotlessly quarters finding that all his belongings were gone and then trashed the room in anger before going to his work room and pouring himself a large goblet of wine while he waited for food to be brought to him. Raymond had been the one to see that the guards performed their duties that the watch was set and the store room filled with supplies. Without Raymond to oversee the men, he would have to take a much more active role in the running of the keep, which would mean less time at court watching over the king. His plans were all going to hell, he was supposed to have married Isobel, and then in a once she was bent to his will travel to court with her and announce they were wed. He was going to declare the king incompetent and then assume the position of regent based on Isobel’s relationship with the king. He would claim that Isobel as a mere female was too weak of mind to rule on her own and that he would rule for her. Once a male heir had been born Isobel would no longer be required and he could continue ruling as regent in his son’s name. Dagda had spent the last ten years eliminating anyone in the court and the kingdom that could oppose him either by outright murder or by having them accused of treason and arrested and imprisoned where they would meet an untimely end. Dagda’s face and nose still throbbed from where Isobel had struck him and the only reason he hadn’t beaten her for striking him was that he could not dare to place a mark on her. If she was covered with bruises when he took her to court to present her and claim his stake to the throne, people would talk. Not that there were any who would openly challenge him and his claims but it would do better not to raise suspicions. With a curse he leveled a kick at the chair before the fireplace, missed, and smashed his foot into a fire log, causing him to drop his wine goblet adding to his fury. He retrieved his goblet and limped back to the table to pour him another goblet adding several drops of laudanum. Where was his damn meal? Dagda dropped into his chair nursing his wine and his toes while he waited for the captain of the guard and his meal to arrive. While he waited he poured a third goblet of wine and added more laudanum to it hoping to numb his throbbing face and toes. When no one came after ten minutes he poured a fourth goblet of wine and tried to decide his best course of action if he went in search of the captain he would look weak, but he was hungry having had nothing but wine in days. He also needed someone to find a priest and bring him to the keep for his wedding; he could ride to court himself and seek out a priest but that would leave Isobel unprotected and how would he explain his face. Dagda finished the wine and felt a warm glow suffuse him as the laudanum took effect; he reached for the wine bottle finding it empty and with a curse threw it across the room to smash against the wall. Damn where was the captain, why had no servants come. True he had killed his valet in a fit of rage and driven away the cleaning women but what of loyalty, a servant’s place was to serve and take what abuse his master gave him. Dagda sat pondering how he would make his men and his servants pay as time passed and the sun began to set Dagda realized no one was coming, that no one was going to bring him a meal or fix him a bath. With a curse he rose to his feet and headed for the door as he grabbed the handle there was a deafening bang and the windows in his room shattered and blew inwards raining glass all over him. Cursing he shook off the glass and jerked open the door to step into the hall hearing shouts and smelling smoke, what in the hell was going on now?