Page 24 of One Knight in the Forest

She set aside the cloth and unfolded the document. Desperately hoping she was making the right decision, she handed it to him.

“Thank you for finally trusting me.”

Pleasure and regret battled inside her. “You will not be grateful after you read what is written there.”

His attention shifted to the sparse lines of black ink, slightly smudged from the parchment getting damp.

Fighting a bone-deep chill, Magdalen tugged the blanket more closely around her.

Cyn’s eyes narrowed as he read, and his breath expelled on a hiss. “No wonder you are so afraid. Do you have the vial mentioned in this missive?”

“Unfortunately, I do not. I looked in William’s linen chest, where I found the letter. I also searched the rest of the solar, but could not find the vial. Mayhap I should have searched longer, but after reading the missive, I felt I must get away as quickly as possible.”

Cyn’s expression was a gut-wrenching mix of disbelief and rage. “William is a loyal and honorable man. I cannot believe he is involved in such treachery.”

“The proof is in your hand.”

“The letter does seem damning. There may be more to it, though, than we realize.”

A ghastly coldness crawled through Magdalen. Cyn didn’t want to believe William was guilty of wrongdoing. Would Cyn destroy the letter? The fire was easily within reach, if he chose to toss the missive into the flames.

If he intended to burn the letter, she’d have to wrest it from him. Her gaze dropped to the knife, lying atop her gown, and the coldness within her settled deeper. She’d never used such a weapon before. Without doubt, he was the superior fighter, but she’d do what she must to get the letter back and flee.

Still, the thought of threatening Cyn after he’d been so kind to her, of possibly having to stab him, made her feel queasy.

“You are very quiet,” Cyn said, studying the letter.

“We must get that missive to one of the King’s men,” Magdalen said firmly.

“I want to ask William about it first,” Cyn replied, his tone equally firm.

Still, he refused to acknowledge his friend’s guilt. Anger simmered along with her fear. “While I respect you are friends with William, he is not the only one to consider. The plot might endanger Edwina and Timothy.”

“True,” Cyn said. “Believe me, I would never wish harm upon William’s wife and child. However—”

A loud bang echoed, followed by shuffled footfalls. Carrying a wicker basket, Borden hurried into the room, preceded by the three wolfhounds. “His lordship is approaching,” he said, out of breath. “He has four men-at-arms with him.”

Panic whipped through Magdalen, and she struggled to rise from the chair. The stag slipped from her grasp and fell on the planks.

“Easy,” Cyn said, setting a hand on her shoulder to stay her. He took the knife and shoved it back into his boot, the movement so neat and fast, he’d obviously done it a hundred times before. Oh, God, now she had no chance of saving the letter.

“Do not fret,” Cyn said, as gently as he’d spoken earlier to Perceval.

“William is coming here!”

“You do not have to face him.”

“W-what do you mean? How—?”

“Trust me.” He glanced at Borden. “You know what to do.”

“Aye, milord.” The steward set aside his basket, crossed to the rope, and began taking down Magdalen’s garments.

Cyn shoved the letter down the front of his tunic and then carefully guided her leg down from the wooden stool. With a swift precision that suggested the activity had been rehearsed before, Cyn cleared all of the nearby furnishings out of the way—all except the large patterned rug covering the floorboards. As he dropped to a crouch beside it, Borden set aside the coiled rope and folded clothes and hurried to help roll up the rug, to reveal bare planks, some bearing knots in the wood.

Cyn pushed his finger into one of the knots and she heard a metallic click. Several more clicks, and with a grunt of effort, he and Borden pulled out a rectangular section of the floor, revealing a dark opening beneath.

She gaped.

Crossing to her, Cyn said, “When the poachers built this home, they included a place to hide their most precious bounty. ’Tis a little dirty and cramped, but large enough for you to lie down inside.” He helped her to her feet, ensuring the blanket stayed wrapped around her.

“Does William know of that hiding place?” she asked.

“Nay. Once you are safely inside it, we will return the room to the way it looked before. He will never know you are nearby, listening to his every word.”

Part of her rebelled at the thought of being closed into the floor; she’d never liked cramped spaces, and she’d be stuck in there until Cyn or Borden let her out. Yet, ’twas better than confronting William, and Cyn was right; she’d be able to hear what William said about the missive.

She hobbled a step forward, but then Cyn swept her into his arms. He carried her to the opening and, dropping to his knees on the planks, guided her to sit on the edge of the cavity and lower herself in. The inside walls of the cavity were wrought from stone, and a damp, musty smell clung to the air.

Borden handed down her bag, shoes, and her garments to use as a pillow, and she lay down. As the men hauled over the rectangular section of planks, she said, “Please. Do not leave me in here for long.”

“As soon as William’s gone, I will let you out,” Cyn said from above her.

“Promise?” She spoke so softly, she didn’t think he’d heard, but he met her gaze and nodded. “I promise.”

They lowered the planks into place, and she was plunged into darkness.