immediately released the man and looked at Talon, wagging his tail happily.
Talon chuckled and scratched his ears. Mince had tried his best to defend Gwen. “Mongrel or no, you will be a fine dog someday, Mince.”
“What shall we do with this sod, my lord?”
Talon studied him critically, abruptly recognizing him as one of the handymen who worked at Montgomery, repairing various items around the castle, which usually saved the expense of calling a master-worker. He spotted the few keys on the man’s belt. Because of his duties, the man had access to the storerooms of the keep. That explained his entrance into the locked room. And locked areas would have been the last searched. If it hadn’t been for Mince, it might have taken days to find him.
“Take him to the dungeons, question him thoroughly. I want to find out who was behind this attack.”
“Aye, sir.”
Richard hauled the man away and Talon pulled Simon aside. “I also want to know if he had anything to do with Rose’s disappearance,” Talon growled.
Simon nodded, his expression grim, his dark eyes radiating fury. “I will discover the truth my lord and after that this bastard will pay for his crimes.”
“That duty will fall to me and me alone,” Talon snapped. “See to it he does not die before then.”
“Of course, Earl.” Simon strode from the room.
Talon and Leo returned to the great hall just as Marcus and Aaron entered with the healer. Aaron took the man upstairs while Talon told Marcus what had happened.
“Keep the castle barred, Marcus, until we know if he has allies.”
“Aye, sir, I will assist Richard and Simon unless you have need of me.”
“Nay, I will be with Gwen.” He handed Mince to Leo. “Clean him up and see that he gets a good meal, Leo. He’s earned it.”
“Aye, my lord,” the boy said and took the pup.
Talon hurried up the stairs to Gwen’s room, praying with all his heart.
He opened the door to discover the healer cautiously exploring the wounds on Gwen’s throat. Talon swallowed hard, he stopped a pace away, his arms folded tightly over his chest, unwilling to disturb the healer as he worked.
“The cuts bleed but in truth they are not that deep,” the healer said. He continued to work, peering into Gwen’s mouth and down her throat as best he could, then settled his ear to her chest, listening to her heart and breathing. “She strengthens and there is a bit of blood in her throat but it is not severe.”
Hope once again blossomed within Talon. “Will she live?”
The healer and Alys looked at him startled. “My lord Earl,” the healer said and bowed. “I did not hear you come in.”
“Will she live?” Talon asked, his jaw aching.
“’Tis too soon to tell, my lord. Her throat was damaged but how severely, I do not know. The lack of blood is encouraging. But sometimes people with this injury appear fine then they suddenly die.”
Anguish lanced through his heart. “She cannot die.”
“We will do our best, my lord.” He turned back to Alys. “A warm tea of lemon and honey will soothe her throat.”
Alys wrung her hands. “I do not mean to argue, but I know my lady would order cold water first, to take the swelling down.”
The healer scowled at her. “What mean you?”
Alys moved to a sturdy wooden box on the bedside table. Talon abruptly recognized the chest Gwen had requested brought with her - some items from her mother, she had said. Alys opened it and Talon’s jaw went slack. It held not ribbons or jewels, trinkets a mother might give a daughter, but pouches and vials of herbs and medicants, a mortar and pestle, squares of cloth, some loosely woven others tightly knit. Neatly organized, everything was marked or labeled in some form or another.
Alys carefully rummaged through the box and pulled out a tightly bound stack of parchment, each page about the size of Talon’s hand. He stepped closer
Talon chuckled and scratched his ears. Mince had tried his best to defend Gwen. “Mongrel or no, you will be a fine dog someday, Mince.”
“What shall we do with this sod, my lord?”
Talon studied him critically, abruptly recognizing him as one of the handymen who worked at Montgomery, repairing various items around the castle, which usually saved the expense of calling a master-worker. He spotted the few keys on the man’s belt. Because of his duties, the man had access to the storerooms of the keep. That explained his entrance into the locked room. And locked areas would have been the last searched. If it hadn’t been for Mince, it might have taken days to find him.
“Take him to the dungeons, question him thoroughly. I want to find out who was behind this attack.”
“Aye, sir.”
Richard hauled the man away and Talon pulled Simon aside. “I also want to know if he had anything to do with Rose’s disappearance,” Talon growled.
Simon nodded, his expression grim, his dark eyes radiating fury. “I will discover the truth my lord and after that this bastard will pay for his crimes.”
“That duty will fall to me and me alone,” Talon snapped. “See to it he does not die before then.”
“Of course, Earl.” Simon strode from the room.
Talon and Leo returned to the great hall just as Marcus and Aaron entered with the healer. Aaron took the man upstairs while Talon told Marcus what had happened.
“Keep the castle barred, Marcus, until we know if he has allies.”
“Aye, sir, I will assist Richard and Simon unless you have need of me.”
“Nay, I will be with Gwen.” He handed Mince to Leo. “Clean him up and see that he gets a good meal, Leo. He’s earned it.”
“Aye, my lord,” the boy said and took the pup.
Talon hurried up the stairs to Gwen’s room, praying with all his heart.
He opened the door to discover the healer cautiously exploring the wounds on Gwen’s throat. Talon swallowed hard, he stopped a pace away, his arms folded tightly over his chest, unwilling to disturb the healer as he worked.
“The cuts bleed but in truth they are not that deep,” the healer said. He continued to work, peering into Gwen’s mouth and down her throat as best he could, then settled his ear to her chest, listening to her heart and breathing. “She strengthens and there is a bit of blood in her throat but it is not severe.”
Hope once again blossomed within Talon. “Will she live?”
The healer and Alys looked at him startled. “My lord Earl,” the healer said and bowed. “I did not hear you come in.”
“Will she live?” Talon asked, his jaw aching.
“’Tis too soon to tell, my lord. Her throat was damaged but how severely, I do not know. The lack of blood is encouraging. But sometimes people with this injury appear fine then they suddenly die.”
Anguish lanced through his heart. “She cannot die.”
“We will do our best, my lord.” He turned back to Alys. “A warm tea of lemon and honey will soothe her throat.”
Alys wrung her hands. “I do not mean to argue, but I know my lady would order cold water first, to take the swelling down.”
The healer scowled at her. “What mean you?”
Alys moved to a sturdy wooden box on the bedside table. Talon abruptly recognized the chest Gwen had requested brought with her - some items from her mother, she had said. Alys opened it and Talon’s jaw went slack. It held not ribbons or jewels, trinkets a mother might give a daughter, but pouches and vials of herbs and medicants, a mortar and pestle, squares of cloth, some loosely woven others tightly knit. Neatly organized, everything was marked or labeled in some form or another.
Alys carefully rummaged through the box and pulled out a tightly bound stack of parchment, each page about the size of Talon’s hand. He stepped closer
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