Chapter 21: Captive

Like her sister, Tamara rolled around in bed, trying to get comfortable. Unlike Samantha, though, Tamara had enjoyed several rounds of Razor’s excellent lovemaking and was sated for the moment. It had been very late, or very early, when she came home and went to bed. As soon as she found a comfortable position, she dozed off.

The carriage rolled to a stop, but Tamara du Bois, Baroness of Chelmsford, stayed seated. She was a young woman, barely ten-and-six, but had inherited the title at her mother’s untimely death. The curtains had been drawn close over the windows after the attack, and when she had tried to move them aside to see where they were going, a sword had been thrust through, along with a gruff order to leave the curtains alone if she knew what was good for her. All she could do was lean towards her maidservant, Mary, and whisper about what had occurred. One moment they had been driving from the Chelmsford estate to the Hereford estate, the next crossbow bolts were flying, and bodies were falling! Then the carriage was stopped, the bodies of her guards were tossed aside, and an angry voice told them to close the curtains and keep silent, or their lives were forfeit!

Now the carriage door opened and one of the riders looked inside. He was a hard-looking man, heavily bearded with a mean face, with an iron helm and chain mail, and a long sword in his hand. “Out, now! And keep your mouths shut!”

Tamara and her maidservant climbed down awkwardly, blinking in the bright sunlight. They were standing in the courtyard of a castle. “Sir, where might the privies be?” asked the maid.

He turned to her and backhanded her across the face. “You were told to be silent!”

Tamara helped Mary to her feet, shaking her head to tell the girl to remain silent. Then their attention was turned to face a man approaching from the side. He was dressed as the others, in chain mail, though without a helm, and had a sword and dagger at his waist. Unlike the others, he was smiling, but it was a cold and cruel smile. “Excellent. Any problems?”

“None, milord,” replied the man who had been ordering the two women about.

“And the traitor?”

“Dead with the others.”

“Good. If he betrayed one master, he’d surely betray another.” He turned to the two women and smiled cruelly. “Welcome, ladies, to Castle Front-du-lac. I am your host, Guy de Montmartre, Baron Front-du-lac.”

Both women gasped. Baron Front-du-lac was Baron Chelmsford’s sworn enemy, and that they were here at his castle meant Front-du-lac had captured them and was holding them prisoner. Front-du-lac was rumored to possess a vile temper and enjoyed tormenting and torturing prisoners, and the ransom would be high. He was reputed to be the cruelest lord in the land!

Front-du-lac turned to his soldiers. “Separate them The Baroness is to be taken to her quarters. Give the maid to the men for their pleasure, but she is not to be harmed, just used.”

The two women screamed as they were pulled apart. Two of the soldiers took Tamara’s arms and pulled her effortlessly towards the keep, even though she struggled. She managed to turn her head and see two others laughing and holding Mary, while a third tore her clothing from her. Then Tamara was dragged inside, and she could no longer hear Mary’s piteous wails through the thick stone walls.

Tamara was turned over to a serving wench who led her towards the privies, and then followed as she was taken into the keep. She was put into a room near the top, and the maid followed. A basin and an ewer of water was on a table. “You need to wash your face, miss, and then we can bring in some food.”

“I demand to be released immediately!” answered Tamara.

“That’s more than I can deliver,” replied the young girl.

“I am the Baroness of Chelmsford!”

“Yes, miss, but not in here, so you should clean up and have some supper before the Master comes back.”

Tamara nodded in understanding and decided to make do as best she could. She couldn’t help Mary and needed to stay alive long enough for her father to either pay the ransom or destroy Front-du-lac and rescue her. She washed her hands and face and ate a hasty meal of broth and bread.

She had just finished when a side door to her cell opened, and Front-du-lac strode in. He had removed his mail and weapons and now wore a simple tunic and leggings. “You’re ready? Good. Come with me!” He took her by the arm and pulled her to her feet, with the wench following. Tamara found herself pulled into a large and sumptuously appointed apartment, with tapestries on the walls and several dressers and armoires along the walls. A huge bed was against one wall, and, curiously to the Baroness’ mind, a pillory was set up to one side. “Well, don’t just stand there, come along.”

He pulled her over to the pillory and put her head and arms into the device. Before she could even think to protest, the top board was dropped into place to keep her in position. “Release me!” she demanded and began pulling her hands back through the holes.