Part 20 (1/2)

Lochlan doubted it. ”Since Bracken was taking your lady wife home, nay. I didn't give him the location for fear of endangering them.”

Stryder cursed. ”Then who did she speak to?”

”That would be the question...” Along with who else would have known about their plans. Lochlan scanned the area, but there was no sign of her anywhere.

Stryder stepped back. ”I'll have Rowena check her room. Maybe she's still there. Something could have happened. Perhaps she couldn't get past the guards.”

That would definitely make Lochlan feel better. He wanted to believe that she was still safe and sound in her room. ”I'll wait here until your return.” But that was the last thing he wanted to do.

He felt the need to start searching for her immediately. Every second they delayed, could be critical to her well-being if she wasn't there.

”I'll check the stables for her horse,” Simon said. ”And if it's still there, I'll check the stairs again.”

”My thanks.”

Lochlan paced the small area while a million scenarios went through his head. Part of them revolved around Catarina running on her own from them, but she'd seemed content enough that he and the others would take her from here.

Had someone kidnapped her for ransom? It was possible and frightening.

After several minutes, he paused in his pacing as he saw Stryder approaching with a stern grimace on his face. ”She wasn't there. Rowena found this in her room.” He held out a piece of folded vellum.

Lochlan opened it and read the note that was signed with his name and as he did so, fury sizzled through him. Who the devil would have used his name? ”I didn't write this.”

”We figured as much. Rowena said that it was left out in the open as if someone had meant for it to be seen. If Cat had truly gone to meet you as planned, she wouldn't have left anything behind to incriminate you in the deed.”

That was true enough. ”Who could have left it, then?”

Stryder shrugged. ”I'm sure whoever sent it to her. Have you any enemies?”

Lochlan snorted at the obvious answer to that. ”Oswald.”

”True, but I don't think his hatred would cause him to risk his own life. If the king finds out his daughter has been taken against her will and his, the culprit will die.”

True enough. This newest deed defied logic, but then people seeking vengeance often did things that made no sense. ”Someone is after me and I'm willing to wager whoever it is will kill her for it.”

”I agree.”

Terror for what they might be doing to her even while he spoke to Stryder invaded every part of him. ”We have to find her as soon as possible.”

”Aye and I know just the person who can help us.” Stryder motioned him to follow as he turned and made his way back to the tents where the knights were camped.

Lochlan scowled but didn't speak. Why would they come here and not set out immediately?

But he knew enough to trust the earl.

After a few minutes, they reached a tent that was set apart from the others, on the outer edge of the field. It was all black. Stryder motioned him to silence before he parted the flap. There was a small lamp burning inside that illuminated a pallet on the floor where a lean man lay sleeping.

Lochlan grimaced at the harsh scars marring the man's flesh. He had long brown hair that fell over his face, obscuring his features.

Black armor was set to the opposite side of the tent on a dummy. And by the red and gold markings on the man's black s.h.i.+eld, it was obvious he was a b.a.s.t.a.r.d-born mercenary with no lands or t.i.tle.

Yet there was no sign of a sword or dagger.

Stryder approached the sleeping man but before he could touch him, the man awoke. Cursing, he swung his arm out and it wasn't until Stryder caught his hand that Lochlan realized the man held a dagger that would have slit Stryder's throat had he not expected and countered the attack.

”It's me, Kestrel. Relax.”

He wrenched his arm free of Stryder's grip. ”You know better than to wake me.”

”I know, but I need your help.”

Kestrel narrowed his suspicious gaze on Lochlan. ”Since he stands at your back, I'm a.s.suming he's a friend.”

”Aye. He was traveling with the French princess and now she's been taken. It appears whoever took her is trying to blame it on him.”

Kestrel clenched his teeth, then nodded. ”I'll be dressed and ready to travel in three shakes.”

Stryder released his hand. ”Thank you.”

Kestrel gave a subtle nod before he brought his sword out from under the blanket.

Stryder straightened up and led Lochlan from the tent. They stood off to the side to give the man privacy while he dressed. ”He's a bit harsh at times,” Stryder said in a low, apologetic tone. ”But he's had a hard past.”

”Can we trust him?”

”I'd put my life in his hands.”

There was no better statement than that. ”He was with you in Outremer?”

Stryder nodded. ”After we escaped and he returned home to his family, his father disowned him.”

Lochlan was stunned by that. ”Why?”

”Because he returned and his older brother didn't.”

That made no sense to him, but having had a father who would have most likely reacted the same way, he understood. ”Was he b.a.s.t.a.r.d born?”

Stryder shook his head. ”But none of his family is allowed even to speak his name. So he wears the mark of a b.a.s.t.a.r.d and refuses to acknowledge any of them. He won't even use his given name anymore.”

Lochlan felt for the poor man.

He started to speak, then paused as Kestrel joined them. His long hair was pulled back at his neck and stubble marred his otherwise perfect goatee. He was dressed in a black pair of breeches and a plain black surcoat. The only thing to mark him as a knight was the sword he wore and an air of competent death that surrounded him.

Kestrel approached them with determination. ”What do you need?”

”We have no trace of the princess,” Stryder said. ”You're the only man I know who can track them.”

One corner of Kestrel's mouth quirked up in a deadly smile. ”Do you have anything?”

Stryder handed him the vellum. ”Only this note.”