Page 83 of Anice’s Bargain

He proceeded to explain the entire plan as devised by himself and Anice. How she would be used as bait to get Werrick to open its doors. It would look dark within, and safe. The first of the attackers would go in and promptly be slain by the waiting army. James would be at the rear of the battle, imploring the men to forego the attack and return to the safety of their fields and families. With luck, the reivers would be soundly defeated, many without injury, and return to Caldrick and the Debatable Lands.

The wariness did not abate from Drake’s hard stare.

“If I gave ye a dagger, do ye think ye could escape?” James asked.

“Aye,” Drake answered without hesitation.

It was as James had expected. No warrior worth his pottage would need more than a simple dagger to break out of a dungeon.

“Verra well.” James withdrew a dagger from his belt and handed it hilt-first to Drake. “Take it.”

Drake’s gaze flicked between the weapon and James. “I could kill ye.”

“Aye, ye could try.” James tilted his head in consideration. “But if ye actually succeeded, ye’d be hung and Werrick Castle would never know of my father’s plot. If ye take it and escape, however, ye’ll save them all.”

Drake reached for the blade, wrapped his fingers around the hilt and slowly accepted the weapon. “Ye’ll need to hit me.” He angled his sharp jaw in James’s direction. “The guard thinks ye came in here to beat me. If ye leave with me looking unharmed, it will arouse suspicion.”

It was tempting, of course. Especially when it was so obvious Drake was in love with Anice. Still, there was something about hitting a man he was trusting that did not sit right with James. Instead he grabbed Drake by the shirt and jerked him closer. The fabric of the man’s doublet tore beneath James’s grip. “Get on the ground and roll about, so ye look dirty.” James released Drake with a little shove.

Drake did as instructed and popped up, sufficiently filthy. “Ye still need to hit me. At least twice where it can be seen.”

James clenched his hand. “I’m no’ going to hit ye.”

“I can take a hit.” Drake’s body tensed for the impact. “This is necessary.”

James hesitated. It would feel so damn good to crash his fist into that bonny face.

“I’d do anything for the people of Werrick.” Drake’s gaze softened. “I’d do anything for Anice.”

That was all it took. James’s body launched into action at the sound of his wife’s name on the other man’s lips. His blow struck Drake hard on the cheekbone. It left James’s hand blazing with the agonizing pain of the impact. He struck again with his left hand, catching Drake in the eye.

For his part, the younger man held his braced stance and gave only a grunt with each hit. James did not strike again. Even with Drake’s words resounding in his mind, the idea of hitting a man who did not hit back was without appeal.

Drake nodded. “Good. One more.”

Already the flesh at his cheekbone and eye were reddening. James shook his head. “I’m no’ going to pummel ye senseless. Ye need yer wits about ye to escape.”

“Once this is done,” Drake said. “I’d like to spar with ye. Ye’ve got a solid hit on ye.”

“Keep the people of Werrick Castle safe and I’ll gladly spar with ye.” James departed from the cell, summoned the reiver to return to his post and went to find Tall Tam.

The former reiver had become James’s most trusted ally after Anice had taken on Ingrith as her lady’s maid. Through him, James would send another missive to Lord Bastionbury informing him of the changes to the plan.

It would all work out.

It had to, or Werrick would fall and James would lose everything.

* * *

Three daysin a dungeon was an interminable stretch of time. Or at least Anice thought it had been three days. It was nearly impossible to tell for certain.

It wasn’t so much the damp cold seeping into her bones that nearly drove her to madness, though that was miserable for certs. Nay, it was the endless nothing.

Night and day blurred into one in her black world, and times of day were only gleaned from the groan of the floorboards above her head from people walking about. Only when everything went completely quiet did she assume it to be night. The meals were all the same—a thick, gray pottage with barely any flavor. The stuff was nearly inedible, but Anice forced herself to choke it down. She would need her strength.

James had not come to visit again. The risk was far too great. But it had not stopped her from thinking of him, dreaming of him.

At long last, after the mind-numbing passing of time, the day had arrived for the attack on Werrick. It was the footfalls above that first alerted her. They were no longer the careful treads of servants and castle inhabitants, but the wooden-soled leather shoes of warriors, thundering about in their preparations. Had she not heard them, she would still have known from the charge hanging in the air, seasoned with the pitch of excitement brought on only by war. The tang of it hummed through her and made her pulse quicken with anticipation.