Valley of Valor (Noble Heart Book 6) Page 3

  “They have gone,” she sighed. “I am so frightened!”

  “My dear, come sit by me,” Granny invited. “We will pray together. Have faith, Gwyneth. We do not know where our boys are, but God does. They are not lost, for they are in His hands. Let us ask Him to lead the men to them. And to meet every need that William and Noble have right now. He knows all about it.”

  “Yes. He does. What a comfort that is! And a comfort that William is with Noble. Whatever has befallen, I know Noble will care for my son.”

  “Yes, he will guard him with his life, Gwyneth.”

  “I know,” the queen said softly. The two women bowed their heads closely together and prayed.

  * * *

  Already it was past the noon hour and the sun was on its downward slope. The men rode through the city gates and split into three groups on the road outside. Some rode to the north and south, while the Sir Michael led the rest eastward. They rode hard, anxious to get to the area where Noble and William might have left the road while there was still daylight left to search. King Stephen wished with all his heart that they might find them long before then, trudging along the road, leading their horses.

  It was not to be. They rode nearly to Snowdon, but when they had not found the boys, they turned back and split up into three groups, each going into the woods in a different place to look. “We will meet back here before the sun goes down,” the king instructed them. “Pray God we will have found them by then.”

  The king went with Sir Michael’s group. They had no idea where to look, really, but rode straight forward through the trees, calling and searching diligently through the brush for signs of the boys—or at least for signs of a hunt. There was nothing at first. The ground was covered in leaves, so there were no hoof prints to follow, but even the leaves themselves did not look disturbed.

  They were conscious of the minutes flying by. The sun would go down, and then what? The king had no doubt that if they were unhurt Noble could protect them from harm through the night, but if one or both of them had been injured? The situation might be out of Noble’s hands.

  “It is in God’s hands,” he murmured aloud.

  “I’m sorry, Sire?” Sir Michael asked. He was leading the way and was some feet ahead of the king.

  “I said they are in God’s hands—wherever they are. I was just imaging that if one of them is injured, it might be critical that we get help to them quickly. God knows, however, and we must trust that until we find them, they are safely in His hands.”

  It was nearly an hour later when they came across the first sign that perhaps Noble and William had been there. They were less than a mile from the road, but their careful search had slowed them down. It was a sound that first alerted them to their find—the sound of swarming flies. A faint smell assailed their noses, as well. Sir Michael rode through the brush a few feet away to investigate and called back, “I have found something!”

  The others crowded around him and looked down at the mess on the ground. A deer had been gutted there. Flies buzzed frantically around the gruesome sight. “It is still fairly fresh,” one of the men said. “Probably less than twelve hours old.”

  “Look around,” the king ordered. “There must be other signs that they were here.”

  It took only a few minutes to find hoofprints. They were not easy to spot in the leaf-covered forest floor, but now that they knew where to look they were finally able to pick up the trail. For the first time the king felt hope that it was only a matter of a short time before they would find his son. He was eager to press on.

  The trail led back toward the road, but at a slight angle from the way they had come. If it had not been a straight path, they would have had trouble discovering the tracks, but it did not swerve. The sun had begun to set behind the trees, however, and it was becoming more difficult to find traces of the trail when suddenly Sir Michael called a halt.

  “Look here! There are signs that they stopped here! You see how the horses’ feet seem to trample all over one another? And look at this! These hoofprints are dug in deep, as if one of the horses reared back! The ground is softer and damp here, and less covered with leaves. The tale is clearly told!” He looked around a bit more and then said, “Whoa! The marks of boots! Surely these are Noble’s and the prince’s footprints? Do you see these small ones, Sire? I am sure they are William’s!” He stopped and frowned. “But who do these belong to, I wonder? And these? They are larger than Noble’s, and these are wider.”

  “Spread out, men. Look for other tracks, but be careful you do not foul them with your own!” the king ordered. “Look carefully! The light is becoming dim, but it is important that we do not miss anything!”

  The next few minutes were spent busily scouring the ground. One by one the men called out a find until it became evident that Noble and William had been surrounded by men on foot. Michael stood up at last to summon the men and resume following the trail as long as they could. “Sire!” he suddenly cried. “Look!”

  King Stephen looked up and followed Sir Michael’s gaze and pointing finger. What he saw sent a chill down his spine. An arrow stuck out from a tree, a few feet above their heads—but at the height that a man’s head would be were he on horseback.

  Sir Michael strode over to the tree and shimmied up a few feet until he could reach the arrow. He struggled to pull it from the trunk, but at last it came free and he took it to the king. “It is not one of Noble’s,” he said positively. “Noble’s arrows would look like mine,” he said as he pulled one of his own from his quiver.

  “They have been attacked,” the king said heavily.

  Sir Michael nodded. “Ambushed. Clearly Sir Noble was caught by surprise.”

  “Can you tell who might have done this thing by the looks of the arrow?” King Stephen asked.

  Sir Michael shook his head. “I cannot tell you who did it, but I think I can say who did not. I do not believe it was an enemy force—that is to say, it was not knights who attacked them. A company of knights from a neighboring kingdom or duchy would have most certainly been on horseback, and nearly all that I know of use longer arrows like my own. This arrow is quite short, and really, it is poorly made as well,” he added as he examined it further.

  “Who then?”

  “Sire, I think I know,” one of the other men spoke up. “Well, not precisely, but I do know there are bands of rogues who roam these mountains from time to time. Just when we think we have cleaned out one gang, it is not long before another bunch springs up to take its place. It has been a problem in this area for many years.”

  “So then it is lawless criminals who have my son? For what purpose? Senseless murder? Thievery? Ransom?” The king’s face turned red in his rage at the men who had dared to lay a hand upon his beloved son.

  “It is most likely the latter, Sire. If they know who it is they have kidnapped, they will be asking for a ransom.” Michael paused. “Take heart, Sire. There is no evidence that William or Noble were harmed. We will find them, I am sure, and until then these men will not dare to lay a hand on them if they want a ransom.”

  “I pray you are correct, Sir Michael. But now I fear we will have to call off our search for the night. We do not dare continue without risking fouling the trail, or missing it altogether.” His heart was heavy. “We will leave two men here tonight to mark the trail. The rest of us will go into Snowdon for the night. I will send a messenger back to Caernarfon to take word to the queen that we have picked up their trail, but I do not want her to know about the arrow, or even that we think they have been kidnapped. It is enough for her to know that there is no evidence that they have been injured. As for Sir Robert and Sir Edward—I want riders to go after them and tell them the situation here. I want them to meet us in Snowdon as quickly as they can get there.”

  Sir Michael gave the orders and reluctantly they headed back to the road to meet the others. At least tomorrow they would expand the search with all of them searching together, and when they caught up
with the kidnappers they would be a force to be reckoned with! The king looked back at the spot where he knew his son had stood only hours before as they moved away through the trees. His jaw clenched. They would be a force to be reckoned with—and his son’s attackers would pay! They would pay dearly, indeed!

  __________

  CHAPTER FOUR

  __________

  Precious Jewels

  They had a short time to talk quietly before Caddock and several others came stomping into the room. Caddock paid them no attention at first, but eventually he came over to the dark corner and loomed over them, staring menacingly. “Who is your father?” he finally growled.

  Fortunately, Noble had had some time to think about that portion of the lie. When he first began the charade he had not considered that he might actually have to produce a rich father. His only thought had been to buy them some time to somehow make their escape. But as he and William had talked, they had come to the realization that if Caddock believed their tale he would want to send a request for ransom to their “father”—and who might that be? Noble was adamant that they not reveal William’s true identity.

  At last they had come up with a plan of sorts and now Noble answered, “Why our father is Henry Talbot the III, of course! Surely you have heard of him, have you not?” he asked innocently. He knew Caddock had not. The real Henry Talbot, his grandfather, had been a simple, poor man. His only claim to greatness had been the fact that he had been the king’s master falconer, and well-loved by both his master and all who lived in the castle.

  “Nay, I’ve never heard of him!” Caddock snarled. “And why not, I wonder?”

  “Hmm, well perhaps you would not have heard of him in these parts, after all,” Noble said with his brows furled.

  “Where does he live?” Caddock pursued.

  “His estate is south of Caernarfon. Ask anyone about Henry Talbot and they can tell you where to find his home.” Noble said, puffing out his chest. He did not add that the “estate” consisted of a burned-out shell of a cottage and a long-overgrown patch of garden.

  “He is rich, you say? He loves his sons and would to be willing to pay a handsome ransom?”

  William piped up then. “My father loves me very much! He would gladly pay a handsome ransom for me—for both of us, I mean!”

  Caddock stared down at them as if considering whether they were worth the trouble. Finally he snorted and walked away. From their corner they could see him talking to the others and gesturing in their direction. There seemed to be an argument of sorts going on, for two or three of the others were shaking their heads and speaking urgently to their leader. Noble and William could not make out their words, but they could see there was a disagreement as to their fate. They held their breath and prayed as they watched the debate continue.

  They watched Caddock bend over the table and from somewhere produce a scrap of parchment. He scratched out a message on it and handed it to Rhain. “Take the smaller stallion,” he finally said loudly enough for Noble and William to hear. “The mare is lame, and no one shall take the black stallion but myself. See that you ride with all speed! You will have to go the long way out of the valley with the horse, but once you reach the ridge you should make good time. I will expect you back tomorrow! If you do not return quickly—well, I will not guarantee what will happen to our prisoners!” He turned and glared at his captives as he stated the threat. “And you had better return with the ransom—every last half-pence of it, Rhain!” He turned his fierce scowl upon his henchman.

  Rhain did not answer but turned and left the cottage. Noble and William looked at each other and breathed a quiet sigh of relief. They had at least another twenty-four hours to come up with a way of escape or to wait for rescue to come. They noticed two or three of the gang-members give one another a slightly triumphant grin as they turned to go about their business. One of them even rubbed his hands together as if he could not wait to get them upon his share of the ransom-money.

  Caddock followed Rhain from the house. A moment later they heard his voice behind the cottage, asking something about the horses. No one seemed to be paying attention to them so Noble whispered, “We must think of something before Rhain returns with the news that he could not find the estate of the wealthy Henry Talbot.”

  “Perhaps tonight when everyone is asleep we will see our chance to escape, Noble.”

  “Perhaps.”

  Night had fallen by the time the venison was roasted and the men sat down to eat. Caddock sat alone at the table. A few of the others sat on the floor here and there, and a couple took their food outdoors. Noble and William were hungry for all they had eaten the entire day was the single piece of bread they had been given before they descended into the valley. The smell of the venison taunted them, and they watched yearningly as the others ate, unsure if they would receive anything themselves.

  At last Caddock pushed back from the table and walked out without glancing in their direction. One by one the others left, as well, until only Finn was left to clean up the mess. He did not look at them, but cut a couple small hunks of meat off of the haunch on the spit and brought them over on a dirty plate. He set it down between them, dipped a couple used cups into the water bucket and brought them over, as well.

  “Thank you,” Noble said. “You’re Finn, aren’t you?”

  The thug grunted but did not answer.

  Noble tried again. “You’re the one who gave us bread earlier today. We appreciate it.”

  Finn refused to look at them. “Ain’t supposed to talk to ye. Caddock’s orders.” He walked away then and out through the door.

  Noble shrugged. It would help, perhaps, to have at least one of the men who was somewhat friendly to them, and maybe even sympathetic, but if Finn was not that man, well then he would try again later with someone else.

  “Let’s pray before we eat, William,” he said now and, as was their habit, they thanked God for their food. They asked once again for deliverance from their captors, either through escape or rescue, and prayed that God would give them strength, courage and patience as they waited on Him. At last they reached for their meager portion and settled back to make it last as long as possible.

  The fire in the fireplace had died down after the venison had been roasted, and now its last few embers were the only illumination in the room. They had nearly finished eating when suddenly Noble noticed several little shadows slip in through the door. They were children. They hesitated, looking around carefully before coming any further into the room. As they crept closer to the fireplace Noble could see that it was two boys and a little girl. She was carrying a toddler, and whether the little one was a boy or girl, Noble could not immediately tell.

  William started to exclaim, but Noble quickly held his finger up to his lip. He could see the children were afraid and any sudden noise would startle them, and perhaps drive them off. Apparently they had not seen the prisoners. The small amount of light from the fireplace could not reach their dark corner.

  The oldest child reached out to tear off some meat from the spit. He handed it to the girl, and then tore off some more for the younger boy. At last he took some for himself and they settled down on the hearth to eat. Even from where he sat, Noble could see that each of the children eyed the door warily, as if they were prepared to spring away if someone came through.

  They did not speak. The girl tore off tiny bits of meat from her portion and fed them to the toddler who opened his (or her?) mouth like a baby bird. They ate hungrily, as if it were the first food they had had to eat all day. Perhaps it was. They were thin and looked neglected. They were unwashed, with long hair that looked as if had not seen a brush in many a day. Their clothes, which were tattered and faded, hung loosely on them as if they were several sizes too big.

  They quickly finished their small meal and then to Noble and William’s surprise, the older boy took the baby from the girl and they all came toward them. They reached the ladder to the loft, however, and the boy put the
baby on his back, as if he were going to give him a pony ride. The tot clung tightly around his neck. The girl had just put her foot upon the first rung of the ladder when Noble whispered, “Hello!”

  The children jumped back. Their eyes flew to the two figures bound just feet away and stared. They looked as though they were about to flee through the door and out into the night.

  “Wait!” Noble said softly. “All is well! We wish you no harm!”

  The children backed away slowly, unsure who these strangers might be, and unable to trust Noble’s words. They had never received kindness at the hands of anyone—not, at least, since their mother had died—and their instincts to protect themselves left them no choice but to run and hide from all the world.

  “Truly, we will not hurt you!” William chimed in softly. “Indeed, we cannot, for you see we are all tied up like two piggies bound for market!” He grinned a silly grin and the littlest one giggled.

  “What are your names?” Noble asked in a friendly manner. “I am—Henry (he caught himself for he had very nearly said Noble to these innocent children), and this is my brother John.” Even if they had nothing to fear from these youngsters, they could not risk that one of them would call them by their real names in the hearing of Caddock or his men.

  The children did not answer, but neither did they turn away to flee. They stared silently at them, as if they could not answer.

  “Perhaps you are wondering why we are all tied up like this in your house,” Noble ventured.

  The oldest boy shook his head slightly. At last he whispered, “We know why you are tied up. Our da did that to you, didn’t he?”

  “If your father—that is, your da is Caddock, then yes, he did.” Noble said simply. “Is he your da?”

  The three older children looked toward the door, as if the mere mention of his name would bring him in. Finally the boy looked back at Noble and said, “Aye.”