Two men argued in the darkness ahead, though Amaury could not understand their words. The rain slanted down, making the climb to the motte most slippery. It also disguised small sounds. He reached the summit, hiding in the shadows on the right beside the remnant of the wooden palisade. On the left, the motte was undefended, with the lip of a cliff overhanging the flowing water.
There was one decrepit structure ahead on the far side of the clearing, a fire burning fitfully before it. The shadows within were impenetrable, making him fear for the lady’s situation. The two captors were silhouetted before the fire, and it was clear they disputed some matter. Their agitated conversation covered any slight sound of approach, but Amaury moved slowly all the same. He eased into the shadows on the
