A Hero's Heart (Noble Heart Book 7) Page 6
William chattered on about his new-found cousins as they went back to the common room. It was empty now. The knights who had remained behind were now outside guarding the horses. The sun was beginning to set. Surely Thomas and the knights who had gone with him would be returning soon.
Master Locke came out of the kitchen sometime later and announced that supper would be ready in a few minutes. “Good!” William exclaimed. “I am hungry! I hope Thomas makes it back in time so that we can eat together.” The words had no sooner left his mouth when suddenly the door flew open and two knights came through it, half-dragging and half-carrying an injured man. Sir Robert and Sir Edward were right behind them. They laid the man down on the floor and stepped back. Several other knights crowded in through the door. Thomas was nowhere to be seen.
The king stood to his feet, along with William and Sir Noble. They went over to the man who lay there groaning pitifully. His face was battered and swollen, both eyes were blackened and there was dried blood all over his face from where his lip and nose had been bleeding. There were no other visible wounds, however he was holding his arm across his middle and moaning, “My ribs! I think my ribs are broken!”
“What happened?” the king asked his captains.
“We found him like this as we were on our way back, Sire,” Sir Robert replied. “It appears that while we were in the forest looking for the trails that might lead us to the highwaymen, they were out on the road doing their dirty work once again!”
They stared at the beaten man on the floor. No one seemed to notice that Hero was staring at him, also, with his head lowered and his ears pinned back. The little dog was growling ferociously deep in his throat.
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CHAPTER EIGHT
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Someone Bad
“Does anyone know who he is?” King Stephen asked.
Sir Edward shook his head. “The only thing we’ve been able to get out of him is that his name is Morgan and he is from Conwy. His face is so battered I don’t think his own mother would recognize him.”
Master Locke took a look at the man lying on his floor. He shook his head. “I don’t know. I can’t be sure, but I do not recall seeing him before.” He sighed. “Well, I have no rooms left upstairs now that we have moved the Hawthornes up there. Take him to my room. It is a good thing Master Hawthorne was better this afternoon and we could move him. Who knew we would need my room again so quickly!”
By the time they had moved Morgan and left one of the knights with him to bind his ribs and tend to his face, Locke had supper ready. His food was not fancy or what Cook would think was worthy of the king, but it was good and hearty and there was plenty for all. He served Peter and Juliet upstairs in Peter’s room.
Thomas came in from the stable where he had been caring for the horses with the aid of a couple of the younger knights. William waved him over and invited him to sit with him. “I am sorry, Your Highness. I really ought to help my father. This is a large crowd for him to serve all by himself. Will you excuse me for a while? Perhaps I can join you later.”
“Alright, then. We will get together later. But please, Thomas, I told you—do not call me ‘Your Highness!’ We are friends! Call me William!” Thomas nodded and ran off to help his father.
Some of the men of Aber had begun to trickle in as well for their nightly gathering. Word had spread in the village that the king and many of his knights were spending the night at the inn and the crowd was much larger than normal. The place was packed and noisy. Locke and his son Thomas were run nearly off their feet bringing drinks and food for everyone.
Nobody noticed when William got up and went out to the kitchen and donned an apron. He had just picked up a tray of drinks to take out to the common room when Master Locke turned around and saw him. “Your Highness! No!” he gasped, aghast at the sight of the crown prince wearing an apron in his kitchen. “No, you cannot do this! What will your father say? He will have my head!”
William laughed. “Don’t be silly, Master Locke! My father has not taken anyone’s head in—oh, at least a week! No! Seriously, why can a friend not help out a friend? I am more than happy to do something useful with my time tonight. Besides, if I want to spend any time with Thomas at all, it looks like I must help him finish up a little quicker. He has been busy ever since we arrived. And my father will be happy to see me helping someone else! Trust me on that!”
Locke did not say anything else but he looked doubtful as William picked up the heavy tray and balanced it on his shoulder as he had seen Thomas do. “I promise you,” William said with a shaky little laugh, “if I break anything, I will repay you!” With that he marched out of the kitchen and into the common room.
No one noticed the new server at first. He moved from guest to guest, setting drinks down in front of them without spilling a drop, and they all went on with their conversation and laughter without a glance at the one who waited on them. Even Thomas was so busy that he did not spare a glance at the one who moved quietly about the other side of the room.
Noble was the first to notice William. He was sitting next to Sir Michael. They had been catching each other up on what had happened during the day when suddenly he caught sight of the prince at the next table. Noble stopped in mid-speech. He did not say anything, but caught the king’s eye and nodded his head in William’s direction.
King Stephen looked over. He did not see what Noble was gesturing at, at first, but suddenly he did a double take and his jaw dropped. There was his son, the crown prince of the land, serving tables in a humble country inn! The king looked back at Sir Noble and grinned broadly. To tell the truth, he could not be more proud of his son at that moment!
They did not say anything to anyone, but one by one, others in the room began to notice who was serving them and they nudged the ones sitting next to them. It was only when they nearly collided in the doorway to the kitchen that Thomas finally realized who it was that had been helping him.
“Your High—I mean, William! What are you doing?” he asked, clearly shocked.
“Helping you, of course, so that maybe we will have time to talk later! Now, please step aside so that I might go through! I must wash these mugs so that we can fill them all over again!”
“Wash them! No, no—you cannot! I will wash them!”
“Why may I not wash them? If you think it is because I will break something, I will have you know I have not broken a single thing all evening!”
They were interrupted just then by Master Locke. “Thomas, run upstairs, if you please and collect the trays from Miss Juliet and Master Peter. I am sure they finished their dinner long ago, but I forgot to go back to get their dirty dishes. There’s a good lad!”
“No, wait! Let me go instead, please, Master Locke,” William said. “I would like to see how my cousins are doing tonight.” The innkeeper nodded and William ran up the back stairs leading from the kitchen.
He knocked lightly at Peter’s door. There was no answer. Thinking that perhaps his injured cousin might be sleeping he quietly cracked the door open to peek inside. Yes, there he was, sleeping soundly. Or at least William assumed he was asleep. His head was turned away from the door. There was no sign of Juliet. The dirty dishes sat on a tray, though, next to the bed. Perhaps he could sneak in and get them without waking Peter.
The door squeaked a bit as he pushed it slowly open. He tiptoed over to the bed and had just picked up the tray when Peter murmured, “Juliet?”
“No, it’s me—William,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I woke you. I just came for your supper dishes.”
Peter turned to look at him. “You’re collecting the dirty dishes? I thought you are the prince—or did I just dream that?”
William laughed. “No, you didn’t dream it. I am just helping out a friend. How do you feel?”
“Better—I think. Have you seen Juliet? She told me she was going to go to her room for a few minutes and freshen up, but that was quite a while ago. I thought she would
be back by now,” Peter said.
“Maybe she fell asleep,” William suggested. “Would you like me to go and check on her?”
Peter hesitated. “If she is asleep, I hate to wake her.”
“I will just tap lightly on the door. If she is sleeping soundly she won’t hear it.”
Peter nodded. “Alright, but don’t wake her. Come back and tell me, though, if you please.”
“I’ll leave the dishes here, then, and come back for them,” William said. He left the room and stepped down the hall to the room Master Locke had given to Juliet.
He put his ear to the door. There were no sounds of movement in the room, so he tapped very softly and waited. No one came to the door. Perhaps that was too soft, he thought. He tapped again a little harder. To his surprise the door opened slightly at his touch. It must not have been latched, he thought. “Juliet?” he called softly.
There was no response. He pushed the door open a tad more and peeked inside. The room was dark, but the light from the candle in the hallway showed that the bed was untouched. He did not see Juliet inside. He pushed the door open a bit wider and grabbed the candle from the table in the hall. He peered inside, holding high the candle, but still he did not see her. “Juliet?” he said a bit louder.
That was strange. She was not there. Perhaps she had gone downstairs. He would go down there and ask Master Locke if he had seen her. He put the candle back on the table and went to the top of the stairs leading to the common room. Before he could set foot on the stairs, though, out of nowhere came a blow to the back of his head and the prince fell at the feet of his assailant.
* * *
No one heard a thing downstairs. No one, that is, except Hero. Above the din and clamor of the crowd in the common room, Hero’s sharp ears caught a soft thud. He stood up from the hearth where he had been lying, watching the noisy men in the room having a good time, and trotted over to the staircase. He looked up into the shadows that lay at the top of the stairs and growled softly. There was no one there now, but someone had been there—someone who was bad. He gave a sharp bark and looked back over his shoulder to where his master sat with his friends. He barked again but Noble did not look up.
Hero looked back up the stairs and then cautiously went up. There was no one in the hall when he got to the top. All was peaceful and quiet, but the smart little dog was not fooled. He could smell the girl, and he could smell his young friend, but he could smell someone bad, as well. And he could smell fear and danger and trouble.
Hero followed his nose to Juliet’s door, and then to Peter’s and then to the top of the back stairs. He looked back once at the landing on the other end of the hall and waited for a moment. Where was Master? Why didn’t he come? Didn’t he know there was danger up here? At last he gave up and took the plunge down the stairs into the kitchen. Would there be danger at the bottom, as well? He would have to face it without Master.
There was no one in the kitchen except the fat old man who had given him food earlier. He was not the someone bad. Hero followed the scent toward the back door. Before he could reach it, though, the innkeeper turned around and caught sight of the little dog. “Oh, no!” he exclaimed. “I’ll have no dogs in my kitchen—at least not while I have an inn full of guests! Out my friend! Out you go!” He nudged Hero with his foot back toward the short hall leading back to the common room. “Go back to your master! You are a very nice little dog, I am sure, but he must take care of you now! I am much too busy!”
Hero looked up at the fat man and gave a little sigh. He would fetch Master. Master would understand. He started toward the common room but as he passed the door to Master Locke’s room he stopped suddenly. That smell! It was the smell of someone bad! He lowered his head and sniffed at the crack under the door. Yes, someone bad had been in there! He growled again, more loudly this time, and scratched at the door. Master must know about this! Fetch Master!
Hero dashed off to the common room and jumped at Noble’s leg. Noble looked down in surprise. “Oh-ho! Where did you come from, Hero?” he asked. “Get down! Get down! What is your problem? Do you have to go out? Wait just a minute.” He turned back to finish what he was saying to Sir Michael.
Hero grabbed the leg of Noble’s breeches and gave a tug. When Noble tried to reach down and swat him away, Hero just tugged harder until suddenly—rip! The material gave way and a long tear appeared in the cloth.
That caught Noble’s attention right away! “Hero! Look what you’ve done!” he exclaimed. “Bad dog! What has gotten into you?” He examined the rip in his breeches, thoroughly vexed with his trouble-making dog. Hero just stood back, not at all ashamed, and stared at Noble. He gave two sharp barks.
“Hush! There is enough noise in here without you adding to it!” Noble scolded. Hero merely barked again and jumped up at his knee, pawing at him frantically. He looked over his shoulder and then looked back at Noble.
“I think he is trying to tell you something,” Sir Michael said, raising one eyebrow and grinning. He was amused. It was not often that he saw his steady friend Sir Noble aggravated!
Noble stopped and studied his dog for a moment. “You may be right, Michael,” he said slowly. “What is it, Hero? Do you know something I don’t know?”
Hero barked again sharply and dropped down on all fours once more. He ran off a few steps and then stopped and turned back to his master and looked at him, tilting his head and whining slightly.
“He wants you to follow him!” Sir Michael said.
“Yes, I know. Show me, Hero what is it?”
That was all Hero needed. He barked sharply again and dashed to the hallway leading to the kitchen. He looked back once to see if Noble was coming and when he saw he was, he stopped at the door to Master Locke’s room and lowered his head, staring at it and growling.
“Isn’t that the room where the innkeeper put that injured fellow we brought back with us?” Sir Michael asked. He had followed Noble and Hero from the common room.
Noble nodded and gave a sharp rap on the door. There was no answer. Noble took a few steps to the kitchen door and looked inside. “Master Locke!” he said.
The innkeeper looked up from the fireplace where he had just hung another kettle of water and said, “Yes, Sir Noble? Can I help you?”
“Yes. Do you know what happened to that fellow Morgan who is supposed to be in your room? There was no answer when I knocked just now.”
Locke frowned. “He should be in there. He was sleeping the last time I looked in on him. Perhaps he didn’t hear you.” He walked over to the door and knocked loudly, and when there was no response he opened the door and peered in. “Why it’s empty!” he exclaimed. “Now where could he have gone? I hope he didn’t try to skip out without paying his bill, the scoundrel!” he said in disgust.
“I don’t know, but something is wrong,” Noble said. “Hero insisted I follow him to this room and then he stood there growling. He does not do that unless he senses danger or trouble of some sort.”
Before the innkeeper could answer they heard a voice at the top of the staircase leading to the common room. “Hello!” it came weakly. “Could someone please help me?”
They rushed to the foot of the stairs. There at the top stood Peter Hawthorne, swaying and clutching his wounded side. He leaned heavily against the wall at the top of the stairs and said faintly, “Has anyone seen my sister? William was going to look for her but he has not come back, either.”
Noble ran up the steps and caught hold of the young man before he could fall down the stairs. Michael and Locke were right behind him. “Master Hawthorne!” the innkeeper exclaimed. “You should not be out of bed! You have lost a lot of blood. It will be a while before you can be up and moving around!”
The bandages around his middle were bloody again. Noble and Michael put their arms around him and helped him back to bed. Peter did not say anything else until he was safely tucked in again and then he whispered as he winced in pain, “Please! You must find my sister! Somet
hing has happened to her. I know it!”
“You say the prince went to look for her and he has not come back?” Sir Michael asked. Peter nodded weakly.
“I sent him up here half an hour ago to get the supper dishes from Master Hawthorne and his sister. He never came back. I figured they had just stopped for a chat,” Locke said.
Noble and Michael looked at one another. “Juliet and William disappear at the same time this stranger Morgan vanishes—Morgan, who seems to be someone of whom to be suspicious, by Hero’s reaction to him!” Noble said. “Locke, get Thomas and begin a search of the inn. Ask some of the knights to help you if you need them. Sir Michael and I will go down and speak to the king and our captains. Peter, you stay in bed! If something has indeed happened to Juliet and William, you could not ask for a better search team to be right on hand! The king and his Guard will not rest until they have them safely back! And if you must do something, then stay right here and pray! I know you trust in God and that you are a praying man. Be a prayer warrior for us now!”
Noble uttered his own prayer in his heart as he and Sir Michael rushed down the stairs to inform the king of this new development. Lord, please keep William and Juliet safe, and help us to catch up with them before they get too far away!
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CHAPTER NINE
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Cousins in a Cavern
William opened his eyes and clutched his head. There was a sticky spot in back. His head was bleeding. It was dark all around him and he realized he was lying on the ground outside. His mouth was gagged and although he could breathe through his nose, he felt like he was choking. His hands were tied behind him.
He heard a noise to the right of him and he carefully turned his head. There was Juliet, lying just feet away, bound and gagged, as well. She was staring at him above the rag tied around her mouth. Her eyes looked big and frightened shining in the dark like that. “Umm-mmm!” She tried to say something to him but he had no idea what it was.