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He walked away and Cathy swallowed, her heart beating so loud she couldn’t hear anything else. The smell of a feast reached her—they were likely celebrating their success in capturing one of the enemy. It was quiet, only distant voices and laughter.
Then Baldwin returned. “You speak the truth,” he said. “The guards told me about a Viking prisoner and the planned execution. I shall help you. You may get out.”
She looked around. “No one’s watching?”
“No.”
She carefully crawled out from under the brushwood, and when she was sure no one was watching, she slid out of the cart. She was next to a building on the left side of a large courtyard, hard-packed earth beneath her feet. Huts stood all around the yard. At some distance, the walls of the palisade loomed with several watchtowers along the perimeter. The gates were twenty or so feet away. To Cathy’s right stood what looked like a wooden castle, two stories high, with big carved doors and small, dimly lit windows. A tiny wooden church with a cross above the door stood next to the main house—that must be what the strange castle-like building was—across the courtyard opposite the entrance gates to Cathy’s right.
“Where can he be?” she asked.
“Must be in one of the sheds. ’Tis where they hold prisoners before execution.”
Cathy swallowed. “I can’t break him free alone.”
“I am a man of god and will not take up arms against my own people.”
“We must use cunning then. Can you drive us out, the same way I got in?”
He frowned. “No, that will not work. I always unload the brushwood and the following day drive to the villages and bring whatever they give to the ealdorman.”
“Well, we have to figure something out.”
He sniffed the air and glanced at a hut standing next to the main house. “It smells like ol’ Elflede is cooking stew. I shall see if she has any waste left.”
Cathy raised her brows. “What?”
“I hope your friend is not squeamish. It might be the only thing they’ll let me drive out of the stronghold tonight.”
Cathy sighed. “Let’s pray this works, Brother Baldwin.” She took his dry, calloused hands in hers and looked him straight in the eyes. “Thank you. You might be risking your life to help the enemy.”
He nodded softly. “God bless you, child. If it is His will, we will survive this night and spare a violent death to many.”
He removed his hands and began unloading the cart. Cathy glanced at the shed he had indicated. People—servants probably—moved around the courtyard, carrying things, and her best bet would be to pretend to be a servant, too. She grabbed an armful of brushwood and walked towards the shed. Two guards stood, one on either side of the door, both of them wearing leather armor and carrying swords. Cathy passed by them as though carrying the brushwood somewhere, and they followed her with their eyes.
She turned around the corner of the next building and put the brushwood on the ground. Her heart thumping in her chest, she let some time pass, as though she was busy doing something, then appeared again and stopped in front of the guards.
She glanced at the tallest and strongest one and said, “You. Ealdorman Aethelwulf wants to see you.”
He frowned. “Why?”
“Something about how well you fought. He wants to reward you. He’s about to dine and he wants you to dine with him.”
“Lucky bastard,” the other one muttered.
The man’s face brightened a little, and he shifted to walk away. Then he stopped and narrowed his eyes at Cathy. “Who are you?”
“Me?” Sweat broke through Cathy’s skin. She licked her lips and coughed, trying to make her voice steady. “Cathan, I’m new. Just came to serve here from the village.”
“Ah. Good luck.” He shoved the other man in the shoulder. “Have a good night,” he said and walked away.
The other one scowled, turning his head, eyes following his friend.
Now or never. Her feet frozen, her hands shaking, she stepped forward and hit the man in the back of the head with the pommel of her sword.
He turned, swaying on his feet. Not hard enough, she thought. His hands went to his sword and tried to get it out, but he was weak. Cathy hit him in the temple, and he fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes. She took his sword and looked at the door. It had a big, heavy lock on it, and she sank to her knees to search the guard for the key. It wasn’t there. She stepped back and glanced around, panicked.
She needed to act fast. Shadows passed behind the building. Anyone could come here at any moment.
