An Oath Taken by Diana Cosby

the corridor.
    Empty.
    Before anyone came, Elizabet slipped into her day’s garb, then headed down the hallway. The aroma of baking bread filled the air as she ascended the turret, and her stomach rumbled. Moments later she entered the great hall. A few hounds lay amongst the rushes thumping their tails in welcome, their huge, sad eyes watching her, while the other knights and tenants visible slept. The men would soon awaken, and she didna have much time.
    She hurried toward the tiny chamber off an alcove, where she’d learned the previous castellan kept his important documents. The castle ledger should be there.
    Once inside, she positioned the door to where it blocked her from anyone’s view, then she searched through the stack of books and documents lying on the top of the aged oak desk. Except for a quill, ink, and a number of personal effects, she found naught. She explored the top, righthand drawer, then the next.
    Two unopened drawers remained.
    Her fingers trembled as she reached for the next handle. It had to be in here! She held her breath and she pulled.
    Wood scraped.
    The ledger came into view.
    Thank Mary! She set the thick book on the desk. Thin parchment crackled as she opened the leather-bound journal. She glanced toward the door.
    She had to hurry. Elizabet flipped through the yellowed sheets, carefully reviewing each notation for Giric’s status.
    Precious seconds passed.
    Grumbles of men stirring echoed from the great hall.
    Blast it. Determination drove her as she scanned the entries in search of Giric’s name.
    â€œHave you seen Thomas?” Nicholas’s deep voice sounded from outside the chamber door.
    Elizabet froze. He couldna catch her here!
    â€œNay, Sir Nicholas,” a man answered.
    Heart pounding, she closed the ledger, stowed it in the drawer, then quietly slid it shut. She crept to the door, caught sight of Nicholas’s sturdy frame through the narrow slit.
    A scowl marred the castellan’s face. “If you see my squire, tell him to find me immediately.”
    â€œAye, Sir Nicholas.” The man passed by the door.
    Now you go away too , she silently urged as Nicholas surveyed the great hall before him. With a muffled curse, he turned and took a step straight toward her.
    Nay! Elizabet staggered back. How could she explain her presence here?
    â€œSir Nicholas,” another man’s voice called from a distance away.
    The castellan halted, his shadow stealing into the opening between the door to the chamber. “Yes?”
    â€œSir Jon would like to see you in the dungeon,” the man said. “There has been another death.”
    A soft curse. “I am coming.” The castellan’s shadow slipped away.
    Terror tore through Elizabet. Another man dead—who? Please God let it nae be Giric. She shot a desperate glance toward where the ledger lay hidden. She’d nae found her brother’s name, but with Nicholas out of the keep, dare she go back and search more within the pages, or with the guard’s news would her efforts be in vain?
    A woman called for help bringing out the bread.
    Her choice was made. The castle was beginning to stir. She couldna chance being caught. Elizabet slipped from the room.
    Â 
    The pounding of mallet to wood thudded as Nicholas departed the dungeon. He glanced across the courtyard. The new stable stood readied. Nearby, several men worked on the frame for the barracks. The pleasure over the rebuilding faded at the news of moments ago.
    Another man was dead.
    Mouth tight, Nicholas glanced toward the morning sky. Fingers of yellow and gold slid into the violet expanse. He drew in a long, cleansing breath, savoring the soft dewy scent of grass and the morning sifting on the breeze, needing to rid his senses of the stench of death.
    Lord Terrick’s fever still raged. As Wolfhaven Castle bordered his land to the north, good relations between the two were imperative. He needed Lord Terrick to live.