Read Kathryn Kramer for Free Online Page B

and seized.
    How strange, he thought, that those who had witnessed the tragic events in the taproom were scurrying away, fearing to become involved, while others were attracted to the excitement.  What unpredictable creatures men could be!
    "Unpredictable and treacherous," he mumbled beneath his breath as the sight of Owen Stafford came into his line of vision. 
    It was obvious by his frantically waving arms and shouted expletives that the scheming lord would leave no stone unturned until he found his quarry.  Bile rose in Nicholas's throat at the thought.  He was trapped like a fox by that yelping hound, and there was nowhere that he could go.  All the exits were being guarded.
    Standing frozen in impotent fury , his eyes surveyed the three-storied inn's buildings  which formed a rectangle around the courtyard, leaving only the heavens above unobstructed.  Escape would be difficult if not impossible.  To make it even worse, there would soon be broadsides  nailed to every tree and post in London and the surrounding countryside proclaiming him to be a hunted man.  Even if he could break free of the inn's boundaries, his fate was precarious. Stafford would waste no time in implementing his plot.  How easily a trap had been sprung.  Too easily.
    To find a secure place to hide was his only desire at the moment.  But where could he go?  Where would he be safe from detection? If only he could reach one of the upper galleries which led to the bedchambers without being detected, perhaps he could hide there for a time.  He quickly put that thought from his mind, however.  His fleeing figure would be illuminated by the torchlights  now being lit in the courtyard.
    How could he escape these wooden walls?  Only reason tempered his impulse to act rashly and recklessly.  He could not go far without being apprehended.  What then was he to do?  Indecision goaded his frustration until his eyes lit upon a bright painted wagon in the upper end of the courtyard.  It was hitched up to two horses and ready for travel.  How thoughtful of the owners to leave it unattended.  How convenient!  If only he could reach the open end of the wagon without being seen , he might yet have a chance of escape. But how was he going to get there without being seen?
    Although the wagon was shrouded by shadows Nicholas knew that he could not take the chance of his movements attracting attention.  He needed to create a diversion.  His chance came when the wind, which had been whistling through the roof tiles and shutters , blew out several of the torchlights. Hurrying, he fumbled about for a large rock and took aim, hurling it towards the rooftop several feet away.
    "He's on the roof!" someone shouted as all eyes looked in that direction. 
    Stumbling through the darkness, Nicholas headed in the opposite direction, darting in and out between crates and barrels as he made his way toward his intended hiding place.  Upon reaching the wagon, he pushed aside the curtains behind the wagon seat and climbed inside, pausing just a moment.  Feeling relieved that no sound of pursuit seemed to follow him, he smiled, but he knew he was not safe.  Not yet.  He might still be caught.
    "Never!" he breathed.  Somehow he w ould outwit them.  Covering himself with a large piece of canvas, he moved his lips in a silent prayer, a prayer that was seemingly answered as the minutes passed by in silence.  Nicholas became quite pleased with himself, certain now that Owen Stafford would search for him in vain.  How sly he had been to hide himself right under that bastard's nose.  He would prove himself more than a match for Lord Stafford.  That vain popinjay would expect him to use bravado, would no doubt think him fool enough to try to escape on horseback.  Instead he would use subterfuge.
    In all probability the player's wagon would soon be wheeling its w ay out of the courtyard, toward some unknown destination.  Nicholas didn't really care where that was