Roarke nodded.
They clung to each other, smiling and laughing as they walked through the hall into the kitchen.
They kept to themselves, hugging each other, and several smiles were sent their way, a few men nodded at Roarke. They were out of the kitchen and down the path to the door behind the stable in no time. Once through it they braced themselves against the stone wall, even though the rain fell heavily upon them.
Mary could tell that Roarke was exhausted and would not make it much farther.
“You need to rest before you continue your journey,” she said, thinking where he would be the safest. “Is Magnus’s land far from here?”
“A few hours by horse.”
“Then I need to get you a horse.”
Roarke looked alarmed. “You will not place yourself in danger for me.”
“I will see you safe.”
“You have done enough, Mary, leave the rest to me.”
She shook her head. “You are in no condition to do anything but mount and ride to safety.”
“And how do you propose that I ride out of here without drawing attention?”
“A diversion.”
“You are as brilliant as Michael.”
She smiled though it faded quickly. “When you see him tell him I miss him.”
“I am sure his message is the same for you.”
It did not take much to create the diversion, she simply began yelling from the dark corner of the fortress that the Dark One was here.
Panic ensued and she was quick to harness a horse and take it to Roarke.
“Everyone is in a panic and rushes about. You will disappear in the chaos.”
They joined in with the chaos in the courtyard. It seemed as though everyone was in fear. The animals seemed uncontrollable, which served Roarke well for his horse became agitated and he fought to control her as he nudged her to the exit.
Mary hid in the shadows and yelled out that she saw the Dark One enter the fortress and everyone scurried about calling for the warriors, who emerged with a flourish from the hall.
Mary helped Roarke guide the agitated horse out of the fortress and into the woods just as the drawbridge slammed shut.
“Ride fast and hard to Magnus,” she urged, helping him to mount. “He will see that you are safe.”
“What of Decimus?”
“He will not hurt me. He has plans for me, and besides no one can prove I did anything. It was a young lad who freed you. Now go before they send warriors out to search.”
“God bless you, Mary,” he said choking back tears and guiding the horse into the thick darkness of the woods.
The rain pelted her as she watched Roarke disappear. Magnus would see to his care and he would be safe there. She only wished that she were going with him. She took her time returning to the fortress, hoping she would be able to sneak back in and wondering what excuse she could use if she were caught.
She approached the drawbridge, which had been lowered, and hesitated, bracing herself against the stone wall. Riders were coming and she did not wish to be seen.
Her breath caught when she saw her husband, his black cloak flying out behind him, his wet dark hair plastered to his head, and his eyes glowing red-hot with anger. He was in a fury, the two riders behind him keeping their distance.
The horses’ hooves pounded upon the wooden drawbridge as they crossed it in a frantic gallop.
Decimus had returned.
Mary snuck her way across the drawbridge, lurking in the protection of the dark shadows. She was wet to the bone, her clothes soaked through, her hair sopping wet. But it did not matter; Roarke was free.
Decimus was screaming at his men as Mary moved along the shadows of the fortress wall, inching her way closer to the entrance that would allow her to enter the kitchen and make her way to her bedchamber.
“You capture this Roarke and then he escapes? And how do you explain the escape of the other prisoners?” He looked down at his men from where he sat on his horse as if judging and condemning them all.
The warriors cowered around him.
Decimus looked from one man to another, his dark eyes searing each one of them. “I think there is a traitor among you.”
They all protested mightily, swearing they were all loyal to him.
“Then tell me how this Roarke escaped?”
They all turned to look at Edmond.
The large man trembled and stuttered as he spoke. “A young lad—he—he offered to—to watch the prisoner.”
“What young lad?” Decimus asked, the rain pouring down on him and his men.
“I—I—I did not get his name.”
“You left a prisoner with a young lad who you did not know?” Decimus dismounted and walked over to Edmond.
The large man stepped back, fear evident in his eyes. “He told me he was to be one of your warriors.”
Decimus looked to his men. “Gather all the lads in the fortress and bring them to the hall. Edmond will identify our traitor.”