They sat side by side for a moment staring at the two pendants before Isabel shook her head and turned to Will. ‘We’re not going to get any answers now, so why don’t you try to get some sleep, while I keep watch.’ Before he could object, she added, ‘Please, I insist.’
‘Very well, but only for a short duration. We must leave soon.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
They reached the small bustling town of La Rochefoucauld before noon. Here, they could replenish their supplies and allow their horses a much-needed rest at a nearby farmhouse. But it had been a mistake to have come into a place so open, exposed and very conspicuous. Isabel couldn’t explain why or how, but a deep sense of foreboding gripped her the moment they arrived.
She pushed the feelings away, knowing they were irrational and based on fears she had manifested and embellished in her head. Will was no doubt right in his estimation that everything she had always supposed to mean more, was purely coincidental. Even the pendants weren’t identical, as she had always believed. None of it seemed to mean anything or make much sense.
So, why did she still feel so apprehensive?
Isabel sighed, realising that it was the first time since the night of the attack that she had been in a place that was so busy.
The two of them strolled alongside one another in the market square, which was filled with an array of different vendors and farmers selling an abundance of produce. They ambled past master bakers selling honey bread topped with sprigs of lavender, milk cakes, pastries and delicate meat and cheese pies. Elsewhere, there were flowers and herbs being sold as well as harvested vegetables and fruits.
Isabel selected the juiciest plums, turned to Will and gave them a gentle squeeze, her eyebrows arched playfully. He shook his head at her and covered a grin with his hand. Isabel was surprised by her shocking behaviour and yet it was certainly one way to stop her from focusing on her anxious musings.
After purchasing essentials, including the delicious plums, they meandered away from the market square and towards the farmhouse through a few cobbled pathways. As they turned into a narrow road with tall dwellings on either side, the fine hairs on Isabel’s arm rose. Something felt very, very wrong. The path was deserted except for a man at the far end, who was leaning against stone wall, whistling.
Will grabbed her by the elbow, making her stop. ‘Turn and walk back the way we came,’ he muttered urgently, from the side of his mouth. ‘Easy now.’
She did as he bid, noting that he had obviously had similar suspicions. They both walked a little quicker, but came to halt when two men entered the path, walking towards them.
‘They don’t look particularly friendly.’
‘No, I don’t believe they are.’
She snapped her head round to him, her breathing laboured, ‘What now?’
‘I’ll create a diversion and then I want you to run as fast as you can. Can you do that?’
‘Absolutely not, do you think I’m going to leave you the mercy of these men?’
Will took his dagger out its sheath, held it in one hand and took out his sword from its scabbard. ‘Isabel, we do not have time to argue about this.’
‘I’m staying with you,’ she said defiantly. ‘Hand me a spare weapon.’
‘What?’ He frowned. ‘No. You need to know how to use it, otherwise there is hardly any point.’ He looked in both directions at the men prowling towards them as he pushed her behind him, his body shielding her from whatever the men were about to inflict.
Good grief, she was not wholly incapable of helping, even in this terrifying situation. Or mayhap it was the proximity of this big, strong warrior that was making her a little braver than she would have otherwise felt.
‘Pass me a weapon, please.’
This time Will complied and handed her a small, slim knife which had been strapped to his ankle, all the while shielding her behind his larger, taller and broader body. He made a few, determined steps back and to the side, making her shuffle along until she was positioned inside a wide doorway.
‘When the time comes, I want you to do exactly as I say, do you understand?’ he said, scanning the buildings on both sides. ‘Isabel?’ he hissed.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I can see that you’re formulating some sort of plan.’
He made a quick nod. ‘We’ll see.’
The men from either side sneaked closer, trapping them.
‘There’s no need for any violence here, if you do as we ask,’ one of men said, holding out the palms of his hands, showing that he carried no weapons. He was wiry, of small stature, and his face was severely pock-marked. ‘All we want is the woman and the pendant you have dangling around your neck.’
Will shrugged as though he was discussing something inconsequential. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘What exactly do you hope to achieve except ending your life here and now?’ the man retorted before throwing down a small coin purse filled, presumably, with silver. ‘Here. For your troubles.’
Will ignored the leather purse that lay on the ground and smiled nonchalantly. ‘I think I’ll take my chances.’
‘There are five of us and only one of you.’
Will’s smile turned rueful. ‘Not a problem for me. I’ve taken on more than half a dozen men on my own.’ He held his sword arm out, ready for battle. ‘So, it is I who should advise you all to turn back now and return from whence you came.’
‘And it’s not five against one, anyway. I’m here, too.’ Isabel muttered from behind him, gaining a low groan from Will, as the five men descending on them stopped momentarily to laugh.
* * *
Trust Isabel to come out with such brave yet unwise words, undermining his own. Yet Will couldn’t help but appreciate her spirit.
Ah well, now, mayhap they could use this to their advantage. He flicked his eyes to the buildings again, taking in the different heights and angles of the roof. Yes, it could work. He waited for the men to edge closer just a little bit more before he could undertake his hare-brained plan.
Two of the men sprang forward at the same time. Will fended off the attack from the right with a few expedient swipes of his sword, bringing the man down, then spun quickly at the exact moment the other assailant attacked. Will blocked him and lunged forward unexpectedly, bringing him down as well. But there were still three men left and they seemed to have purposely held back since they were smirking as though expecting this outcome.
They were trying to tire him out, but these men had no idea of his stamina. They would need a whole garrison of soldiers if they wanted to achieve that.
‘Watch out!’ Isabel cried from somewhere behind him as another, much larger, man attacked from the side. He caught Will somewhere on his body, but he had little time to dwell on any minor gash.
The man to the other side moved forward, relishing the chance, it seemed, to clash swords with him. But he was certainly better than the others, who had been no match for Will. No, the man was better than that—he was skilled enough to draw Will slightly away from Isabel. It was then that he realised that while he was doing that the others were trying to grab her.
‘Take cover, Isabel. Remember the unexpected and be ready for any eventuality!’
‘I’m trying!’
Will continued with the swordplay and with a few decisive swipes and lunges he successfully made the man drop his weapon, bringing him to the ground. But when he turned swiftly, he found one of the men holding Isabel from behind, with the knife Will had given her against her throat.
‘Now, as you were.’ The man smirked. ‘We want that fine pendant, see. So, take it off and pass it here.’ He pressed against Isabel with the blade a little closer against her throat.
The man was a thug, panting heavily and looking unnerved and agitated, which made him far more dangerous than any skilled soldier. One false move and he could kill Isabel.
‘Do as he instructs, Sir William,’ the pock-faced man who had spoken from the outset said. ‘And drop your weapons…now!’
Damn, they should never have ventured into this town. They had walked straight into a trap.
Slowly, very slowly, Will crouched low, placing his sword and dagger on the ground.
‘Boot them towards me, if you would be so obliging,’ the man said, his stony eyes fixed on Will.
He did as he was bid, but noticed from the corner of his eye that the man who was holding Isabel had eased the knife he was holding from against her neck.
‘Isabel…plums!’
Will snapped his head around as Isabel delivered the devastating blow he had taught her, causing the man holding her to widen his eyes in shocked pain, releasing her just as Will elbowed him in the face, making contact with his nose and hearing it crack, broken.
Isabel rushed behind Will once again as the pock-faced man bellowed. As he suspected, more men, who had been waiting at either end of the openings of the pathway, ran in.
Will pulled himself up on the door plinth and kicked the pock-faced man before grabbing his weapons and climbing upwards, gaining purchase on the flat base.
‘Here, give me your hand, Isabel,’ he said, holding out his hand. ‘Quickly.’
She placed her hand in his and he hauled her up to crouch beside him.
‘My thanks,’ she said as he nodded. ‘What now?’
He looked above and back to the trusting woman beside him. ‘Now we climb, my lady.’
Thank heavens she didn’t argue, although he could see her visibly gulp. Will clambered up the stone roofs and held out his hand, grabbing hers and pulling her up. Repeating this, they continued upwards, gaining footing to balance their weight until they landed on the flat roof at the top that he had observed earlier. They dashed to the end of the building, catching their breaths and scanning the area for the best way to continue to their destination. They both turned as they heard another person climbing up the building in pursuit of them.
The distance between this building and the next one was too far.
‘What are we to do?’ she said, panting and out of breath.
‘Isabel, do you still have the rope you used to climb down from your room in St Jean de Cole?’
‘Yes, but…’
‘Hand it to me, please…now.’ He watched as she fished for the rope in her satchel, her hand shaking as she passed it to him.
‘Will, he’s on the roof…he’s on the roof!’
‘No need for panic, my lady.’ He looked around and settled on a stone stump post the original builders had obviously forgotten to break down, tying a couple of knots around it, and pulling it several times to test that it could take their weight. ‘Come, let’s go, Isabel.’
He held out his hand and grabbed hold of her just as the pock-faced man staggered towards them. Isabel put her arm around Will, holding on to him for dear life, wrapping her body around him as he swung from one building to another. He slipped as they reached the other building, making them swing back.
Will pushed against the wall and this time when they swung over to the adjacent building, he managed to get a foothold on the ledge of the roof. He held on to Isabel, making sure that she was steady before he grabbed his knife and started cutting the rope.
‘I’ll get you another one,’ he said, noticing Isabel’s dismay and nodded at the pock-faced man with a grin, before guiding her away.
This roof was not flat, but pitched instead, making it incredibly difficult to manoeuvre their way around.
‘Careful now…easy,’ He muttered. ‘Use your hands and feet to grip for dear life. Imagine you’re a cat, clambering on a roof.’
‘I’m trying to.’
‘And doing wonderfully well, my lady.’ He had to keep her calm, as one false move and she would fall down—and this time no one would be there to catch her. ‘By the way, you were magnificent back there. If anything, I hope all of this has shown you that you are indeed very courageous.’
‘I would never think of myself as such, if it weren’t for you.’
‘We make a good team.’
They continued round until they came to where the slope gave way to a flat base, which they stood on, gingerly. The wooden planks were not too secure, a few were missing and some altogether broken through.
Holding hands, they felt their way across, pushing their feet down on each length of wooden plank to test whether it was secure enough to hold them. Slowly, slowly they got across and jumped across the small gap to another building. They made their way down towards ground level gradually, Will checking both directions to make sure it was safe before jumping down and lowering Isabel. He held her for a moment longer than necessary.
‘Are you well?’
‘Yes,’ she whispered between breaths as he rested his chin on the top of her head. ‘Oh, my God…but you’re not! Will…’ Isabel lifted her head, her eyes wide, staring at her outstretched palms that had been resting on his chest. They were covered with his blood.
He shrugged, making a face. ‘This is not nothing to be concerned about, Isabel.’
‘I disagree, this is very much something to be concerned about.’
He chuckled softly, shaking his head. ‘Let us get out of here. Then I’ll welcome your ministrations, my lady.’ He grinned. ‘I’ll promise to be brave.’
* * *
They had managed to get to the farmhouse without attracting any more unwanted attention, thank the lord. After paying coin to the farmer, they’d mounted their horses without their provisions—having lost them in the skirmish—and left the blasted town.
By sundown they had managed to ride through to a vast, thick forest, their intent one of concealment since it was now plainly evident that they were being pursued.
Eventually, after halting their progress for the day, Will made a fire and saw to the horses before finally being able to see to his injury from earlier. He went for a wash in the nearby stream, cleaning away the grime from the day’s riding and all the dried blood down his front from the wound on his pectoral muscle. It stung like hell and the wound was bigger than he had anticipated. He submerged his head in the freezing water, welcoming the icy coldness as it sluiced down his aching body.
Will had difficulty containing his anger as well as his concern for their situation, knowing it had all been far too perilous. Far too bloody close. One thing was certain—that bastard Rolleston was not going to stop trying to renege on their agreement. He couldn’t help the nagging feeling that Isabel might be right.
Could it be that the pendants were significant somehow?
He trudged back to Isabel, who had been busy laying out blankets and her herbs, salves and other supplies, ready for his return.
She lifted her head and beamed at him, making him stop momentarily. God, she really had been remarkably fearless earlier. She was far more resilient and determined than she believed and the fact that she had put all of her trust in him to get them out of that difficulty humbled him.
Will returned her smile as he continued to walk towards her.
‘Sit here, please, and I shall take a look at your wound.’
He crouched on the blanket in front of her and winked. ‘I’m all yours.’
What the hell was the matter with him? Even Isabel, who had been concentrating on the wound, froze, flicked her eyes to his and blinked several times before attending to his small slash.
Her small hand squeezed over his skin. ‘Does it hurt?’
He pressed his lips shut in case he made any more half-witted, improper remarks and nodded instead.
When had Will become like this? When had his easiness around women—something that he was known for—become so difficult? Not that Isabel de Clancey was just any woman…
‘I’m afraid this is going to need stitching,’ she
muttered, the tops of her fingers grazing his chest. ‘First, though, I will clean it with a salve made to Sibylla’s recipe.’
‘Whatever you think is best, my lady.’
‘I’ll try not to hurt you.’
He grinned. ‘I know—’ he leaned forward slightly, ignoring her alluring fragrance ‘—but I must tell you that I have been stitched up more times than I care to remember.’
‘Ah, then I have much to live up to.’ She raised her brow. ‘I hope I exceed your expectations.’
Isabel just had to say those words just as she brushed past him, making him inhale sharply. God, but his reaction to her was wholly inappropriate. He should not be admiring her in any capacity. His destiny lay in a lifetime of solitary existence, doing his duty for the Crown and atoning for his sins. Sins that had cost him dearly.
‘I’m sorry, Will, I shouldn’t jest. It must hurt after such a long time in the saddle without any due care. We should have stopped much earlier than this.’
She had noticed his reaction, but misconstrued it to mean something quite different. Thank God!
‘Possibly, but we had to put distance between us and Rolleston’s men.’
‘Even so, I cannot help but think that your wound is worse because of it.’
‘I’m fine. All I need is to drink a good measure of ale, so if you’d be good enough to pass my flagon.’
Will took big gulps of the glorious drink, hoping it would help numb the pain that would surely come.
‘Shall we begin?’
He nodded, taking another big swig. ‘Do it, my lady.’
CHAPTER NINE
Isabel cleaned the area of the flesh wound with a swab drenched in the same ale that Will had consumed. She then continued cleaning the deep gash with an unguent made from honey she had brought from St Jean de Cole. Threading a sharp needle with a fine catgut suture made using the intestines of sheep, she coated the thread with the unguent. She then plunged the metal of the needle into the flames of the fire, as she had watched Sibylla do countless times before.
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