Bluebeard and the Outlaw by Tara Grayce
Chapter 5
The fae. Faeries. The fair folk.
They go by many names. Come in many shapes and sizes. Like any people, some are sweet and gentle and good to each other and to humans.
But others are cruel and twisted.
Now that I was paying attention, I could sense the faint tingle of fae magic throughout the entire castle, so subtle and constant that it had been easy to overlook. There was fae work here, sure as darkness, and it wasn’t the good kind.
But I was a forester. A hunter. The fae, like any prey, could be brought down as long as you had the right weapon.
* * *
Iwoke to an unfamiliar plinging. I lifted my head and just stared at the windows as rain pattered the glass, leaving behind fat drops that rolled down the pane before dripping onto the sill.
It was raining. Sheriff Reinhault’s hunch had been correct.
After another moment, I threw off the covers and rushed to don the ugliest dress of the ones Marion had modified for me—a monstrosity in mauve with too many ruffles and a ratty ivory lace added to the hem to make it long enough for me. Over this, I pulled on a cloak that was even uglier, a vomit yellow-green as it was. But it was the only ladies’ cloak we’d had back in our camp.
Hurrying past the guard, who fell into step behind me, I strode down the hallway, wound my way through the corridors until I reached the nearest tower, and climbed the stairs until I found the door to the wall top.
I tipped my face up as I stepped from the castle’s interior into the pounding rain. The rain was cold, the breeze chilly, yet I strode farther onto the wall top. Clammy water ran down my neck and soaked the collar of my dress.
The guards patrolling the wall top gave me a wide berth, even as they cast me sideways glances. There was something heady about walking on the wall top of the duke’s castle surrounded by his guards with complete impunity.
As I approached the center of the wall, I found another figure already leaning against the wall there, a figure wearing a black cloak and slightly taller than I was.
I marched to his side, my skirts increasingly damp and clammy in the rain. I leaned against the battlements next to him. “It seems Sheriff Reinhault was right about the rain.”
“He always is.” Duke Guy’s voice rumbled from beneath his hood. He slumped against the stone, his head bent so that I couldn’t see his face besides a bit of his beard. In the rain, the black beard was glossy, but lacking the blue sheen.
“It must be handy, to have a sheriff who can so predict the weather.” I stared out over the forest to the north, the croplands in all directions. This rain was good and was desperately needed, but it was so heavy that it was more likely to run off the parched earth than soak in as a lighter rain would.
“He is rarely wrong.” The duke’s shoulders sagged further at that.
I shifted against the wall, trying to get a better angle to see his face. I had to spend time with him to learn where he kept his treasure and how best to steal it. But I had already had a tour of the castle—a very awkward, mostly silent tour. What else was there to do together? If the duke had been one of my brothers, I would have challenged him to a friendly bout with a sword or a quarterstaff. Or perhaps archery practice—well, contest.
A duel with the duke would be riotous good fun. Too bad it would break what little cover I had left.
Even as we stood there, the deluge gushed down even harder from the charcoal gray clouds hanging heavy and low. A gray sheet of rain obscured the trees of the Greenwood and the rooftops of the village.
Duke Guy straightened, pushing away from the wall. “You should go inside before you catch a chill.”
“While you stay out here catching a chill?” I turned to him, my cloak fully soaked and providing little protection. Water streamed down my face, dripping off the end of my nose.
“The river will be rising. I need to evacuate the village.” Duke Guy spun on his heel, striding away from me at a quick clip. Dismissing that I had anything to offer in this situation.
I huffed out a breath, spewing some of the flooding rain from my face. Even if I had been a true noble lady, I could have helped in the form of organizing dry clothes, blankets, and shelter for the evacuated villagers. One would think he hadn’t been married three times for how little he valued a wife’s contribution.
Not that he could be said to value his wives that highly since he had murdered them in the end.
I caught up with him just inside the door to the tower and grabbed his arm firmly enough to halt him in his tracks. For a moment we stood there, both of us dribbling streams of rainwater onto the stone floor. I met the duke’s gaze and held it. “I am going to help.”
Perhaps it was the iron in my tone and my gaze. Or maybe he was just too worried about flooding to argue.
He simply nodded, then set off at a swift pace down the stairs.
I hiked my heavy, sodden skirts and hurried after him, cursing that I couldn’t change into my tunic and trousers. They would be much more practical, and the wool cloak for my Hood disguise would be much warmer than this fancy once I’d donned.
But I couldn’t risk that someone would recognize the outfit. I would just have to make do with the dress. At least it was an ugly dress.
Duke Guy burst into the room at the base of the tower, where several guards gathered. He swept his sharp gaze at the soldiers, causing them to straighten and salute. The duke pointed at the nearest. “Go to the stables and see to readying horses for myself, my lady, and a squad of men.” As that soldier ran out the door into the pouring rain, the duke jabbed at the next guard. “Tell the captain to ready a squad of men. And, you, see to fetching all the wagons we have on hand. We’ll bring the village stores here so that they won’t be ruined.”
I stiffened. The villagers were not going to like that. Bad enough that the duke stole all their money in the form of taxes. They would riot if the duke swooped in and started loading up wagons with all the food they had scraped together. Food that would be desperately needed to get through the winter.
Yet the river ran through the middle of the village. In a normal year, even a normal flood year, the storehouses were built well above the flood line. But this rain, coming after years of drought, would cause a flood like nothing we had seen in a long time.
I was the last person who would advocate bringing the grain and dried foods to the duke’s castle, but…this situation was dire.
The stricken villagers would hesitate to accept any help from the duke. They would be suspicious, and rightly so.
This was a mission for the Hood, even if I couldn’t make an appearance as the infamous outlaw. It would be up to me to convince the villagers to seek shelter and safety the duke offered. An odd position to be in.
Duke Guy glanced to me, then he beckoned. “Come.”
I crossed my arms and just stared right back. I wasn’t one of his men to be ordered about in that curt tone.
He heaved a sigh and softened his expression and his beckoning motion. “Please. If you are going to help, you will need warmer clothes. We have the time. The horses and wagons will take a few minutes to ready.”
He made sense, and now I was curious. It was almost as if he was taking a tiny thought of care for my wellbeing. I wanted to see what that flicker of care would look like.
Instead of striding ahead, Duke Guy kept pace with me, even as he led me through the hallways until we reached the room filled with mounted magical monsters. I glanced at the mysterious small door, even as the duke swept us past it and up the stairs leading to his room.
I probably should have hesitated. After all, the duke was leading me up to his room.
But, I could feel his tension and see his hurry in the swiftness of his steps that had even me with my long legs trotting to keep up. This was a man so focused on the mission that he had nothing else on his mind.
Besides, I was curious to see his room. I hadn’t had a chance to case it yet, and it would make it much easier to sneak around in the dark if I had seen it in the daylight.
He ascended the stairs at a rapid clip, occasionally taking them two at a time in his haste.
When we reached the top of the stairs, he pushed his door open, and I got my first look at the duke’s personal suite of rooms.
The room was furnished with lavish sage green rugs edged in a pink rose and gold pattern along the edges. Deeper green cushioned chairs clustered around a fireplace sporting a large, oak mantle that extended all the way to the ceiling in carved decorations, pillars, and a mirror. Wainscoting lined all the walls with pristine plaster above, painted in a soft green. A writing desk and a couch filled the wall across from the fireplace.
Across from us, a door had been set into the wall. Duke Guy strode toward it, not looking at me. “You may stay here if you wish.”
In other words, he would be more uncomfortable if I followed him. So, of course, that was exactly what I would do.
As he stepped inside his bedchamber, I wandered inside after him.
This room too was carpeted with that soft green carpet. Keeping with the green theme, the bedspread was a deep, forest green while the four poster bed was a solid oak. Strangely, it was the most relaxing room I’d seen in this castle. Perhaps because all the green and oak reminded me of my beloved Greenwood.
The duke glanced over his shoulder at me before he crossed the room and opened the door to a large, oak wardrobe. He reached inside, pulled out a long cloak nearly identical to the wet, dripping one he was wearing. He tossed it to me. “This should be warmer than what you are wearing.”
I caught the cloak, my chilled fingers burying in the thick wool. This cloak was a rich blue, and I was thankful the color was so different from the drab brown-green cloak I wore as the Hood.
As I fumbled to remove my sodden cloak, Duke Guy rifled through his wardrobe again, pulling out and shutting a few drawers before he turned to me, holding one of his shirts and trousers. For the first time, his voice turned gruff, and his gaze looked at the floor rather than at me. “Here. Put these on with your dress. You’ll stay warmer in the rain.”
I gaped at him, finding myself truly befuddled and without a snappy comeback for once in my life.
He knelt before the trunk at the foot of his bed and lifted the lid, revealing a trunk full of swords, daggers, and other miscellaneous weapons.
At least I now knew the first place to raid when I ventured into his room.
He shuffled through the weapons before he pulled out a plain, but finely crafted knife in a sheath. After shutting the chest, he stood and faced me with the clothes in one hand, the knife in the other. “You’ll need this too.”
I raised my eyebrows at him. Little did he know how many weapons I had stashed in my room or how well I could use them. Not to mention the knife strapped to my leg under my dress. “What is this for?”
“I’m not well-liked in the village. I don’t believe they will turn on you, but it would be best if you were armed.” Still not looking at me, Duke Guy shoved the clothes and knife into my arms. “I’ll see if the horses are ready.”
With that, the duke hurried past me and disappeared out the door a second later, closing it firmly behind him.
I swung my gaze from the door to the knife and the bundle of clothes. That was beyond unexpected. What was his game in this? Surely he didn’t actually have a care whether I caught a chill in this cold, autumn rain. Why would he care if I got sick if he was planning to kill me?
I shook myself, set the clothes on the trunk at the foot of his bed, and worked at the laces that held my other cloak in place. As tempting as it was to fully change into his clothes and leave my dress behind, that was a step too dangerous, even for a daredevil like me. Duke Guy had seen me dressed as the Hood. It might take him a while to put together the pieces of a niggling feeling, but he would get there eventually. I could not underestimate his intelligence.
Instead, I remained in my clammy, sticky dress and instead pulled the thick woolen trousers on underneath, the hem hanging only a little long. I tugged the shirt over my head and my dress. This garment sagged at the shoulders, and the sleeves drooped over my hands. It wasn’t even tight in the chest since I was a flat stick—the only reason I could pull off my Hood disguise.
I attached the knife sheath to the sash of my dress. Not a great way to carry a knife, but it still felt right to be openly armed once again. With two knives on my person, I could take on just about anything.
When I threw on the cloak, I was enfolded in the warmth it provided. The smell of leather oil, beeswax, and spice clung to the clothing. It gave me a weak-kneed sensation, and I didn’t like it.
I shook myself and strode toward the door. Whatever the smell of him in this clothing, it would quickly wash away in the rain.
After one last glance around his room to memorize its layout, I left, hurrying down the staircase, through the trophy room at the tower’s base, and once again stepped outside into the pouring rain.
Horses and wagons filled the castle courtyard, the clatter of many hooves on cobblestones echoed off the confining walls and towers of the castle.
In the center of the bustle, Duke Guy gripped the reins of his deep bay horse and gave additional orders, sending more servants and soldiers scrambling.
The soldiers and servants parted for me as I strode between them. When I reached the duke, I found a groom standing nearby, holding the reins of a gorgeous black horse. I found myself grinning despite the rain when the groom handed the reins over to me.
I ran my fingers over the black’s nose, letting him get a good sniff of me. Even in the rain, he stood steady, and I liked that. I didn’t need a fancy, high-stepper who would bolt at the wrong moment. A good, steady horse was much better for shooting from the saddle.
Not that I’d had a chance to practice that in the years since my parents had been killed. We were foresters, and our horses had been provided by the duke. Shortly after the duke inherited his title from his parents, he had reclaimed the horses when he dismissed us as foresters.
With an easy motion, I swung into the saddle, arranging my soggy skirts as best I could. At least the trousers I wore made it easier to sit astride. Odd that they hadn’t saddled the horse with a sidesaddle. Still, I was grateful for that oversight, since I only knew how to ride astride and had never learned how to sit the ladylike sidesaddle.
Duke Guy also swung into the saddle. “I received word that the river is already rising.”
“Then let’s ride.” I nudged the black with my heels.
En masse, we clattered out the castle’s gate and cantered down the cobbled road that led down the hill from the castle to the village below. Through the veil of rain, I squinted at the town ahead. Puddles already filled the road ahead of us while the river churned brown and frothy inside its banks. Not flooding. Yet.
As we reached the outskirts of town, Duke Guy gave orders to his men, making loading the wagons with the town’s food stores the priority.
Townsfolk opened their doors and peered out. As soon as they caught sight of the duke and his soldiers swarming around the three large stone buildings that held the food stores, men from the village stepped from their homes, clenching their fingers as if they planned to take on the duke’s soldiers with just their fists.
Bloodshed could break out, and I couldn’t let the villagers do something foolish, as fear was often wont to do.
I rode my black horse over the bridge across the river into the town’s main square, where I dismounted. More townsfolk were gathering, grumbling and muttering among themselves.
I straightened and faced them, putting the same command into my voice that I used when organizing my brothers. “I am Lady Robin, formerly of Loxsley and now lady of Gysborn.” Funny how that was getting easier to say, as if somehow this new role was becoming just as much of my identity as the Hood was, even though neither of them were really who I was.
The townsfolk’s muttering trailed off as they turned toward me, their hair flattening in the deluge.
I had to shout to be heard over the roaring river and pounding rain. “The river is already rising. The town is in danger of flooding, and you and your families must evacuate. The duke is also taking the precaution of moving the town’s food supplies to the high ground of the castle.”
“Where he can keep it for himself, most likely.” The words were stated loudly enough that I could hear them, as if the townsfolk didn’t care if their new lady overheard.
I understood their concerns, and I needed to reassure them. Not that they should trust the duke. Never that. But they had nothing to worry about because I, as the Hood, would not allow the duke to keep the food stores.
In my guise as Lady of Gysborn, I couldn’t tell them that outright, nor would they believe me. Besides, there were too many soldiers nearby who could overhear.
As I swept my gaze around the town, blinking as rainwater ran into my eyes, I caught sight of both Will and John in the shadows of one of the houses. When I met Will’s gaze, I gave him a slight nod. He would know what he would have to do.
He nudged John, then the two of them split up, murmuring to the townsfolk one-by-one. Those townsfolk leaned over to whisper to their neighbors, and as the word spread, the angry tension to the town disappeared. Some of the townsfolk even turned wide eyes on me, and it made me wonder what exactly my brothers had told them. Perhaps they had said something about Lady Robin of Loxsley working with the Hood. That was the logical thing, and what I would have told them, if I could speak freely.
With the townsfolk now in a more cooperative frame of mind, I set to work giving orders and organizing them. I sent each family off to their own homes to gather their things and ordered the soldiers to go from house to house to ask each family if they needed additional aid in packing. I caught glimpses of my brothers as they too helped the villagers in packing, but I didn’t speak directly to them nor them with me.
Soon, a steady stream of people trudged up the hill through the downpour toward the castle, carrying their most prized possessions. Soldiers strode with them, carrying more of their belongings. Wagons rumbled, carrying the precious food stores that would see the village through the coming winter.
I strode through the village, checking each home and business and making sure everyone had evacuated successfully. The rain pounded so heavy and incessantly that it almost seemed unnatural. Perhaps that feeling was caused by such a rainstorm after going so long without rain.
The tunic and cloak the duke had given me were soaked through, sticking to my dress. My eyes burned as water flowed across my face, and I struggled to breathe through the sheer amount of rain gushing from the sky.
Even as we had been evacuating, the river had risen. It now lapped at the base of the bridge and spilled over the lower sections of the riverbanks, the water level roaring higher with each minute.
I urged the villagers to hurry. If that bridge washed out, then they would be trapped on that side of the river, cut off from the shelter of both the Greenwood and the castle.
As I hurried the last group of villagers across the bridge, an inch of water now covering the boards, Duke Guy halted next to me and gripped my arm. “We have to leave. That bridge is nearly underwater.”
I took one last glance around, trying to peer through the thick veil of driving rain. I couldn’t see any more villagers hurrying in our direction. Only the duke and his guards clustered around me.
With a nod, I let the duke lead the way toward the bridge. Even in the few seconds we had talked, the river had risen until a foot of water gushed over the bridge. As I stepped into the rush, one of my boots slipped, and I staggered. Duke Guy reached to steady me, then gripped the rail with his other hand as he slipped and went down to a knee.
By instinct, I hauled him to his feet. Together, we slogged through the rushing water, even as the deluge continued from the dark clouds above. Everything was wet and cold and choked with rain.
At the far side of the bridge, hands reached to pull us the rest of the way to safety. When I glanced up, I found myself facing my brother John, his brown hair plastered to his head and rainwater running down his face.
Guards helped Duke Guy, and it tangled something inside me to see my brothers surrounded by guards, even if everyone was too focused on the flood to even think about capturing outlaws.
With a nod, John stepped back, fading into the rain to join the last few villagers who hadn’t yet made their way to the castle.
Guards approached, leading the duke’s bay horse and my black. As we reached for our horses’ reins, a little girl raced out of the rain toward the river, shouting. It took me several minutes before I realized she was shouting a name. “Daisy! Daisy!”
I stepped away from my horse, hurrying toward the girl. If she got swept away by that roiling water, she would be long drowned by the time her body was found, if it ever was.
An answering bark came from the far side of the river, and a sodden, small dog raced out of the gloom, skidding to a halt inches from the water.
“Daisy!” The girl lunged, but I caught her before she could sprint onto the flooded bridge. She fought against me, and I had to haul her off her feet to keep her from wiggling free.
The dog’s barking grew frantic as it raced back and forth at the edge of the churning river, its instincts knowing that stepping into that river would be a fatal mistake.
The girl was sobbing in my arms now. A man and a woman sprinted toward me, and I guessed they had to be the girl’s parents.
As I handed the girl to her mother, the duke’s bay trotted past me, Duke Guy hunched on his horse’s back. The horse snorted and pawed at the water, but it stepped onto the bridge at the duke’s urging.
I held my breath, strangely worried for the duke’s safety, as he coaxed his horse to trudge step by step across the bridge through the surging water. When he reached the far side, he dismounted, then crouched, trying to coax the panicked dog closer.
The dog raced back and forth for several more seconds, sniffing at the duke, then running away, getting a little closer each time. Finally, it came close enough that the duke snatched the dog by the ruff at the back of its neck.
The dog yipped and squirmed in the duke’s grip. The duke tucked the wiggling dog under his arm, then remounted his horse, hugging the dog to him.
As he turned his horse back to the bridge, the wooden structure gave a deep groan.
Blast. The bridge wasn’t going to hold. I would have to step in and try to save the duke. After all, I couldn’t let the dog die. That was my only reason for risking my life.
I drew the knife he’d given me and hacked at the skirt of my dress. The wet fabric would only get in my way once I was in the water.
“My lady!” one of the nearby guards gasped, and another gaped. The rest were frozen, too busy staring at their lord as he started across the moaning bridge to pay any attention to me.
I dropped what was left of my skirt, standing there in the duke’s trousers and his shirt clinging to me in the pouring rain. I took off the cloak as well. It wasn’t doing anything to keep me dry, and the yards of wet wool would drag me down.
The bridge gave a shriek of twisting, cracking wood. The bay horse gave a high-pitched, horse scream of terror as it, Duke Guy, and the dog were plunged into the roiling water, surrounded by the jagged remains of the bridge. Logs battered the horse and the duke, who hunched over the dog to protect it.
Blast and bother. I snatched a length of rope from the saddle of one of the soldiers. I tied one end to the saddle of the black horse, then gestured from it to the soldiers. “Keep a hold of this.”
The soldiers gaped at me before one of the soldiers grabbed the black’s reins while others gripped the rope next to the horse.
In the river, the bay horse gamely swam across the rushing current. The duke had lost hold of the reins and gripped the dog with both arms, trying to keep the panicking creature still.
I tied the other end of the rope around my waist, then looped the rest of it over my shoulder. With a bracing breath, I plunged into the river. The current caught me, dragging me downstream.
I struggled to angle myself toward the duke and his horse, fighting the roiling water. I had strong arms from many years of archery, yet those muscles strained as I worked to pull myself through the flood.
Finally, my grasping hand touched the bay’s warm, water-slicked coat. Scrabbling, I grabbed its reins, then angled myself alongside the horse to avoid getting in the way of its flailing legs.
I tugged a loop of the rope out of the water and held it out to the duke. He didn’t try to talk but took the rope and wrapped it tightly around the saddle’s horn.
As the rope tightened, he kept a grip on the rope, holding it in place as it tugged at the horse. I swam alongside, gripping the reins and urging the exhausted horse onward.
The horse staggered, then lunged as its hooves found the bottom. I clung to it, letting the horse pull me free of the water. When the horse was all the way on the bank, it halted, head hanging as it heaved panting breaths.
I sagged against it, also gasping for breath. We’d survived.
The duke swung down from the horse, landing on the ground beside me with the squirming dog still gripped in his arms. His dark gaze focused on me. “Are you crazy?”
“Are you?” I shot back, starting to shake from cold and exhaustion.
He glanced down to the dog in his arms, then shrugged. “I suppose I must be.”
“Daisy!” The girl’s cry of joy set the dog to wiggling again a moment before three figures appeared out of the veil of rain, the little girl in the lead.
The duke set down the dog, and it raced to the girl, its tail wagging so hard that its whole body wriggled with the movement. It flung itself into the girl’s arms, licking her face and her hands and any part of exposed skin.
“Please come, my lord, my lady.” One of the soldiers approached us, his gaze focused on Duke Guy. “You need to get dry and warm.”
With a nod, the duke gripped his horse’s reins and strode in the direction of the castle. He was limping, and I could see small gashes on the horse’s flank. Both of them would need medical attention.
But, for a moment, I could only stare after them. I had married the duke intending to kill him. I had shot several arrows in his direction. Perhaps it would have solved all my problems if I had simply stood by and let him drown.
Yet, when the time had come, I had thrown myself into the river without thinking about it. Sure, I could tell myself that I had done it to save the dog and the horse. But I wasn’t the type to do nothing while someone drowned, even if that person was the duke. If he was killed, it would be because he was actively trying to kill me.
Even that grated inside me, as if the pieces of what I’d always believed about the duke no longer fit together.
He had risked his life to save a little girl’s dog. Was that the action of a cruel man? A man who would murder his wives?
Maybe so.
Even a murderer could be kind to a dog.