by Terry Spear
He bowed his head slightly. “Aye, thank ye, milord.”
Malcolm exchanged money for the weapon, then secured it under his robe. “You have guessed we are on a dangerous mission. You must speak of this to nay one.”
“Aye, nay one, my...brother.”
“God be with ye.”
“Aye, and with ye.”
Malcolm seemed to like this cloak and dagger ruse. The squires bid them safe passage, then Anice and her party rode out of Northampton. As before, Dougald took the lead, Angus dropped back to the rear and Malcolm and Anice rode in between.
“You see, milady, the gentleman indeed did wish to sell the dagger.”
She sighed deeply. “To think a monk would dupe him out of so much money.”
“’Twas too high a price, milady.” When she frowned at him, he said, “Truly. I would have bargained for your cloth had you not paid for it so hastily.”
“’Twas a good price already.”
“It would have been a better price had you let me bargain with the merchant.”
“Next time, milaird, I will put you to the test.”
He grinned at her. “I love it when you challenge me.”
She still couldn’t fathom his earlier actions, though she wondered if he’d come to the conclusion he wished an English bride and Anice had distracted him momentarily. She clenched her teeth in annoyance.
Two hours out of Northampton they came across dead men in the road, all badly clothed. Daggers and knives lay by the attackers, yet the blades of nary a one was stained with blood. The tracks of a wagon had recently passed through the area, but there was no sign of the earl or his men.
“Think you we somehow missed them when they returned home?” Anice whispered, her heartbeat quickened. She’d seen men killed before when she was little, thieves who’d attacked her mother and her escort on a visit to see her uncle, but their escort had struck the men down, leaving the bloody carnage strewn across the dirt road. The raw cold seeped into her bones like it had done that day, and she shivered. What if the baron was close by and suspected Malcolm and his party had done the killing? Then they’d be in the same bind as before.
“The earl would have disposed of the bodies. Nay, I think they have taken chase up ahead,” Malcolm assured her.
They listened for signs of threat on the path ahead.
“Do you want me to scout it out for ye?” Kemp asked, his voice enthusiastic.
“You might run away, fearing the path we take too dangerous for ye,” Angus replied.
“I am not afraid. Nobody will notice a small lad spying over the hilltop.”
“It would not be safe,” Anice said. “I need you to be my groom and learn to be a braw Highlander warrior. I do not want to lose you this soon.”
The boy stared at her. “Ye want me to tend horses and be a warrior?” The boy jumped off Angus’s horse and ran to Anice. Kneeling on one knee, he bowed his head. “I will serve ye well, milady.”
“I think you shall. Rise and rejoin Brother Angus.”
“He is nay more a brother than I am a—”
She glanced at Malcolm who raised a brow. “King, aye, I ken, Kemp. But for now, we are monks. It will be safer for us that way.”
“But they are Highland warriors, are they not, milady?” Kemp asked, looking them over.
“Aye, and good ones. But sometimes you need use your wits, rather than brute strength.”
“Oh, aye, milady. I know what ye mean.” Kemp reached for Angus who pulled him back into the saddle.
Malcolm motioned to Dougald. “Ride up the hill and see what you can.”
Dougald nodded and kicked his horse to a gallop. After he reached the top of the hill, he sat and watched, then he rode back to them. “All clear. If the earl and his men took chase, they are either way ahead, or off the road somewhere.”
“Let us continue. We have spent enough time delaying our journey,” Malcolm said.
They headed out, but Anice’s heart thundered with anxiety. Expecting to see the earl and his men safe and sound, she couldn’t believe there was no sign of them. What if they were ambushed somewhere? Yet, she had a premonition of another danger ahead.
She didn’t want Malcolm to know she was scared, or that she could sometimes sense future danger. He had enough on his mind without being concerned with how she felt or that she had this strange ability. What if he thought her a witch? She was no more a witch than Kemp was the king, but she couldn’t chance anyone learning of what they might think a curse.
A mile ahead on the road, two men stood, neither of them knights from the earl’s party, both of them wearing ragged clothing. Dougald approached with caution.
“How now, brother,” the slightest of the men said, with a jerk of a bow.
“Good day to ye,” Dougald said.
The bigger, burly man stared at Angus. “Who have you with ye, brother?”
Kemp tried to hide behind Angus’s back.
“Kemp, is that ye?”
Anice’s heart sank. The boy had no living relatives he had said.
“Tell him nay,” the boy said, his voice cowed. “He is my uncle and nearly beat me to death last summer.”
She sensed the angry, red-faced man was dangerous and cruel hearted.
“The Earl of Northampton has given this boy into my care, or else he would have been locked away in the dungeon,” Angus said, his voice firm.
“What have you been doing, boy? Stealing again?” The man advanced on Angus.
“He taught me how to steal. He is one of the biggest thieves there is!” Kemp said, his tone frantic, his slight body struggling to slide further away from the threat.
Before he reached Angus, Anice notched an arrow on her bow and aimed at the man.
“Brother John,” Angus said, motioning to Anice, “wants you to leave the boy to us.”
The man stared at her with such hatred, she was certain everyone would be better off if the man were dead. Yet without his raising a hand to her, she couldn’t kill him.
The other man said suddenly, “The earl and his men are coming!”
“I will get you for this!” the burly man shouted at Kemp, then ran with the other across the rolling hillside.
The earl and his four knights chased after the two men and struck them down. Anice shuddered, her stomach growing queasy, and she quickly looked away. Only then did she realize the wagon was no longer with them.
The earl galloped back to them. “You have seen what happened to the others?”
“Aye,” Malcolm said. “Have you seen the baron’s men?”
“No. It seems that if he planned on coming to the lady’s rescue...,” the earl said, then motioned to the two squires who grinned back at him, “he gave up on the idea once we attacked the brigands. But in all seriousness, I apologize. We could not make any of them reveal who hired them. But they said the man was well-dressed, which supports your claim that Conan had hired them to take...” He glanced at the boy.
“He will be my groom.” Anice was not handing the boy over to anyone in the shire so any other relative could brutalize him further.
“Well, the road is clear, but we will ride with you until you reach Leicester.”
“Thank ye, my Laird Earl, we appreciate your services,” Anice said. “What has become of the wagon?”
“Another soldier hid in the back and returned home with it once the fighting began. He must have reached Northampton before you began your journey.”
The party continued on their way and when they reached Leicester, the earl and his men returned home. Anice and her party continued on to Nottingham.
“Why say you that you have nay living relatives?” Angus asked Kemp in a gruff voice.
“Who would want to say my uncle was their only living relative?”
“Are you sure that you have nay more?”
“Nay, milady.”
Anice was glad she had taken the boy under her wing, but she wondered if he had other relatives who might wa
nt to skin the lad’s hide. She doubted any would come for him at Brecken though. Too deep in the rugged Highlands for the ruffians to venture for one wee lad.
Dougald motioned to the clouds in the sky that amassed into mountains of blue-black vengeance. “It will not hold off for long.”
Malcolm breathed in the air. “Nay, the air has grown colder by the hour and heavy with moisture. We will have to find shelter soon.”
Anice sensed they’d find more trouble up ahead. She couldn’t shake loose of the fear gripping her and knew whatever they faced would change her life forever.
Malcolm glanced at her. “You look most stricken, Anice. What ails you, milady?”
She shook her head and avoided looking at his searching gaze. How could she reveal how she sensed things about the future that no God-fearing man or woman should know? ‘Twas unnatural and best kept secret. Only Mai knew the truth.
For sometime, they rode but could find no farm or byre, nothing to shelter them if the rains should pelt them mercilessly. Anice pulled her cloak tighter as the winds whipped around her, chilling her to the bone.
Dougald shouted from a rise in the next hill, “Farm ahead!”
Anice and the others galloped to catch up. The news should have cheered her, but the impending doom cloaked her with a sense of dread that she could not dispel.
“Let us get the lady out of this weather, and quickly,” Malcolm said, his voice anxious.
They approached the small house, but soon spied six knights’ horses tethered on the backside. Were these men honorable knights, or Fontenot’s?
A man stalked out of the house though he had his back to them, causing her to catch her breath. He glanced up at the sky as Anice and her party sat deathly still, no more than a hundred yards behind him.
If one of their horses made a sound...Anice’s whinnied and her heart sank, but not before she whipped her bow out and notched an arrow.
Anice held her breath, but the knight never looked to see whose horse whinnied. Fear snaked down her spine when she considered the men might back Robert’s rebellion.
Once the man entered the house, Malcolm waved for the party to continue. Her heart dropped when Kemp jumped off Angus’s horse and ran to the farmhouse before any could stop him. Standing on tiptoes, he listened at a window, shuttered to keep out the wind and coming rain. Then he dashed for the tethered horses and gathered their reins.
Angus rode to the boy, helped him onto the horse, then the party rode north.
“I hope you are no’ planning on stealing the knights’ horses,” Angus said.
“I thought we would give them more exercise, then let them go.”
“Who were the men?” Anice asked. “They might be on their way to aid King Henry.”
“They asked if the farmer had seen two ladies and four gentlemen pass with a wagon.”
Anice took a deep breath. “The baron’s men and they must not know about the massacre of their mercenaries.”
“But now if they try to follow, they will have a nice long walk.” Kemp smiled at her.
She laughed. “I knew you would make a good addition to our party.”
“This means we cannot stop until we are a good distance from the farmhouse,” Malcolm said, “but I doubt the weather will cooperate for verra much longer.”
They rode another hour before the raindrops began in such a downpour that the road turned into a slippery, sliding torrent of mud.
The constant rain finally seeped through to Anice’s skin. Though she felt frozen to the bone, she was more concerned with her horse’s footing when the water rushed down the hill, nearly sweeping them away. Already she had lost sight of Dougald who had maintained his scouting post some distance ahead. She glanced back into the driving rain to see Angus no longer with them. Her heart thundered with concern for Malcolm’s brothers and the boy.
“Malcolm!” she screamed over the wind and rain to get his attention. “We have lost Angus and the boy.”
He reached over and grasped her reins. “Aye...I do not want to lose you, too.”
But as he spoke, his horse stumbled, and he lost his connection to her.
“Malcolm!”
Malcolm’s heart wrenched when he lost hold of Anice’s reins. The river of water swept him and his horse away. In the blinding rain, he could see no sign of her, nor could he make out the elevation of the land. “Anice!” he shouted repeatedly, attempting at the same time to move to higher ground. But with the land turning to knee-high muck no way that he turned seemed less treacherous. With low visibility and wind-driven rain, he couldn’t see or hear any sign of her when he attempted to get his bearings. “Anice!”
He shook with cold, and he doubted they could stay out in this weather for long without dying from the chill.
Attempting to retrace his steps, he shouted until his voice grew hoarse. Then a sheet of lightening illuminated the area shrouded in a ghostly gray mist. He spied a shadow of something solid against the skyline beyond the curtain of rain. A dwelling? It had to be. His spirits lifted, hoping Anice and his brothers had found it, too. He inched his way through the storm while lightening forked a wicked streak into the ground a mile away. A crack of thunder followed, adding to the noise of the deafening wind and downpour.
After what seemed like hours, he drew close to the byre of the house and hurried his horse inside. Disheartened, he found neither Anice nor his brothers’ horses inside.
He pushed the door open to the house from the attached byre, and called out, “How now? Is anybody here?” No one answered in the darkness of the croft.
He searched for the hearth and finding it, discovered deadwood ready to burn. After several tries, he lighted a fire and trembled so hard he could barely stand. Intending to build a fire and provide a beacon in the storm, he then planned to scour the area for Anice again.
After managing the beginning of a fire, a noise in the byre cut his efforts short. He grabbed his sword and rushed through the doorway. The sight of Anice huddled on her horse, filled him with joy, but she shivered so hard he feared she wouldn’t make it. “Anice!”
“S—so, c—c—cold,” she said when he pulled her from her horse.
He lifted her in his arms, his own skin icy still and further chilled by the touch of her wet clothes. He hurried her into the room where the fire began to catch and the flames grew higher.
“I have to remove your clothes,” he said firmly, expecting her to argue.
“A—aye,” she said, raising her hands to unfasten her wimple and veil. “Wh—where are y—your brothers and the—the lad?”
“There was nay sign of anyone here.” Gladdened she wouldn’t fight him on this issue, he helped her to sit, then removed her shoes, but he didn’t want to think about his brothers. Though he assumed as battle hardened as they were, they’d make it. And Kemp was a sturdy lad, who’d had to endure a hard life, no doubt. Anice was the one who worried him most. Reaching under her skirt, he grasped her wet hose, unfastened the garter, and pulled one down, then the other. Her skin was ice and her whole body shook so hard, her teeth rattled, but she stared blankly at his chest and said nothing more.
“Anice, talk to me while I help you out of your clothes.” He worried she was going to die on him, like men on the battlefield who’d grown too cold to utter a word. Their skin would be as frosty, and if they weren’t warmed up fast enough, they’d slip away into a sleep and never wake. His heart pounded while he attempted to help her as quickly as he could. Even now, her lips were blue and her skin colorless.
He helped her to stand, then pulled her arms from the monk’s robe. He peeled off her drenched bliaut next, his own fingers numb and struggling with the effort. “Anice, are you feeling a warmer?” He had to get her to respond. If she fell asleep now, she might never wake.
“C—c—cold.”
“Aye, that you are, lass.” He dropped her bliaut on the floor, then grabbed the shift that clung to her body like a translucent, second skin. Nothing was left to the i
magination, as her extended pink nipples poked against the wet fabric, and the triangular patch of golden red curls at the apex of her thighs caught his eye. Yet, his only concern was removing the icy garments, then getting her tucked into blankets and onto a straw bed. He yanked the shift off, then pulled his own monk’s robe and tunic off. Though his skin was wet, he held her close for a moment, trying to warm her body with his own, his arms rubbing hers vigorously.
“Y—you are sh—sh—shivering, too,” she bit out between shudders.
“Aye, lass, we took a wee bit of a chill.” As much as he didn’t want to stop holding her tight, their bodies warming each other, he had to find something dry to wrap around them. He helped her to sit down before the fire. “Rub your arms and legs. I will find blankets.”
Much relieved, he found three woolen blankets and straw tucked away in a corner of the house, stored there until it was needed for nighttime. After grabbing the blankets, he hurried back to Anice who clutched her legs with her arms and lay her head on her knees, her face turned toward the fire. He wrapped all three of the blankets around her and rubbed her back and arms. “Anice, speak to me. Are you getting warmer?”
She lay down on the floor and closed her eyes.
His heart plummeted when he thought he might lose her. “I will make us a straw bed.” He stalked across the room to retrieve the straw. “Anice, lass, talk to me.” He had to keep her awake until he warmed her enough. With haste, he seized an armload of straw and hauled it back to the fire, hoping that between the blankets, fire and him, he could revive her.
After grabbing the remaining straw, he fashioned a bed out of it, then yanked off his wet trewes. “Anice, lass, tell me what you are feeling. Can you feel your fingers? Toes?” She didn’t respond, her eyes still shut tight. Not good. He removed one of her blankets and laid it on the straw. Then he lifted her off the bare wooden floor and rested her on the bed. She shivered violently, though it wasn’t a good sign, he preferred it to her being deathly still. Though he desired more than anything to join her and warm her body with his own, he piled more wood on the fire to keep it going while the storm raged outside. The wind swept through the walls and shuttered windows, howling like a wounded animal while intermittent flashes of light poked through the cracks and thunder followed.