witnessing, I think...You know well I’d never come between
love and a soldier’s heart.” He crossed his arms over his
chest, face an impassive mask. “Get on with it.”
Jeremy sheathed his sword and stepped up to Alicen’s
stirrup. He extended his hands toward her. “Come down
and bid me farewell, lady.”
His intense expression made Alicen’s protest die
unvoiced. Though unable to fathom his purpose, she
allowed him to lift her to the ground. The moment her
feet hit solid earth, she was engulfed in his strong
embrace.
He pulled her to him, his head bent, mouth next to
her ear. “Do you go with him, he’ll kill me, then force you
to tell him about William.”
“His wounded men—”
“Alicen, I know him. He’ll hurt you when he no longer
needs you. I can occupy them long enough for you to
escape. They’d never expect you to outride them.”
“I’m sworn to help any in need,” she returned with
quiet conviction, stilling her own fears. “I must go.”
“Think of those who’ll die. William, Taft...perhaps even
Ned.” His embrace tightened until there was not a breath
of space between them. “The lives you may save will never
balance those lost. Think of that.” He lifted his head to
stare at her. “You can’t serve both sides,” he whispered
urgently, lips nearly touching hers. “Too many will suffer
if you try.”
Without another word, his mouth sealed hers with a
hungry, possessive kiss. His lips moved with seductive
insinuation, coaxing a response. Unchecked virility
surrounded her, swamping all her senses. Her knees
started to buckle. She had never felt so wanton, so aware
of the powerful sensations this man’s body stirred inside
her. Helpless to resist, she wrapped her arms around his
neck and returned his ardor.
Jeremy pulled his mouth from Alicen’s when Kenrick’s
shouts of laughter penetrated his mind. His hands subtly
squeezed her shoulders before he murmured beneath
his breath, “Think of those who will die, woman. You can’t
serve both sides.” Slowly drawing back, he gazed into
her stunned eyes and gave her a tender, unguarded look.
That look darkened to hatred when Kenrick laughed
again.
“Very convincing, Blaine,” the mercenary jeered. “And
touching. Had I not known better, I’d think you actually
cared for the wench. And she for you.”
Jeremy stiffened, then gave Alicen another long look
before turning to stare at his enemy. “Ah, yes, I feign
passion very well,” he replied archly. “Of course, Estelle
cured my romantic bent long ago.” He pushed Alicen
firmly back and stepped away, leaving her to mount
Hercules without aid.
Kenrick’s cold eyes glinted malice. “And, sweet, sweet
Estelle. Such a tender morsel. I enjoyed her while you
were in France.” He paused. “Did she ever scream for
you? She screamed for me when I had her in your stable
all night. She screamed every time I took her.”
Alicen saw rage and stark despair flame in Jeremy’s
eyes. Horror filled her. Kenrick, his most hated enemy,
had violated Jeremy’s wife! Did the cur’s treachery ever
end? Pity for the captain wrung her heart. Although his
face showed no expression, Alicen knew he’d surmised
the truth she’d instantly come to understand herself:
Estelle had aborted the child because it wasn’t her
husband’s.
Kenrick sighed mockingly. “’Twould please me to
recount more of Estelle, but my wounded await.” Giving
a slight nod to his men, he said, “Therefore, old friend,
adieu.” At these words, relief engulfed Alicen. They’d leave,
and the captain would be safe. She had started to pull
Hercules around to go with the mercenaries when the
attack came.
Jeremy, red with fury, fought like one possessed. His
keen blade deflected a swinging pikestaff hurtling at him,
and instead of taking the blow on his head, he took it
across the ribs. Though he was without chain mail, his
arming doublet absorbed the brunt of the attack. Still,
the breath fled his body and he fell. Pain burst in him,
but he struggled up, pivoting to face the ever tightening
circle of attackers.
One man charged alone. His life ended on the point
of Jeremy’s sword. As the circle closed, he yanked his
blade free and spun, managing to wound two more men.
But he couldn’t turn fast enough to guard his back, and
the jackals closed in.
The butt of a pike crashed into the base of his skull,
laying him in the dirt. Kenrick’s lieutenant raised his pike,
ready to pierce Jeremy’s chest.
With Captain Blaine struck down, his foe poised to
make the killing thrust, Alicen burst into action.
Recklessly, she drove Hercules forward, wedging him
against the mercenary’s mount, preventing the fatal lunge.
“Stop!” She grabbed the man’s upraised arm and
attempted to wrest his weapon away. “You mustn’t kill
him! Don’t kill him!”
He shook off her tenaciously clinging hands, raising
a fist to strike her.
“Enough!” Kenrick’s command brooked no argument.
His small, dark eyes turned toward Alicen. “You intrude
where unwelcome, Mistress. Blaine will die.”
Alicen’s eyes grew cold and her voice low. “Then slay
me. For if you slay him, I’ll not go with you for any reason.”
Kenrick’s thick brow rose. “What is the man to you?”
“A man.”
“And such a one as holds you in contempt. Be not
fooled by his show of gallantry on your behalf. He has no
love for you.”
She drew a breath and steadied her voice. Only her
strong will kept her from glancing over at Orrick’s body.
“No man deserves to be murdered.”
“Murdered? More like excised. As you would remove
a boil.”
Realizing Kenrick’s determination to see Blaine dead,
Alicen fought to maintain courage. Pray God her skills
were dear enough to this murderer for him to indulge
her.
“I tell you true,” she stated, “kill him, and I’ll help
you not at all. I care not for causes, only for the ill. But I’ll
not see another man die needlessly.” Anger ignited in
her eyes. “And do not think to force me to your will. I
know as well how to take a life as save one.”
Her brazen declaration seemed to impress Kenrick.
He turned his look upon Jeremy, who lay bleeding in the
dirt at his horse’s feet.
“This wench is well worth having, Blaine,” he taunted.
“Pity I can’t goad you by taking her as you watch, but,
unlike Estelle, you don’t seem to care enough to be
angered should I ravish her.” He nodded to the man with
the pike. “Tie him over his saddle.” Turning then, he gave
back Alicen’s intense look. “You
temporarily prolong his
life, wench. I’ll not free him to return to William. He’ll die
by my hand ere long.”
But not at this moment, Alicen thought with wild relief.
When realization dawned that Kenrick had spared
Jeremy, she slowly unclenched her fists. Captain Blaine
would live. Not that he’d be grateful, she reasoned
morosely. His feelings were clear—and she abruptly
realized he was right. She could not serve both sides
without endangering Duke William and his men, men
she’d grown to respect. For once, she understood Jeremy’s
reasoning.
She stared down at his prostrate form. Why had he
kissed her with such passion, then turned coldly away?
Her mouth was tender from his ardor. There had been
naught of indifference in that embrace. Yet the uneasy
feeling persisted that he’d never understand her need to
heal.
Her contemplations halted when the brigands,
laughing and shouting, began to viciously batter Jeremy.
Bile rose in her throat when one landed several kicks to
his ribs.
“Merciful Christ, he’s helpless,” she cried. “Have you
no honor?”
Her concern drew a nasty laugh from the henchman.
He and a confederate bound the captain’s wrists behind
him before tossing him over Charon’s saddle. Soon a rope
secured to Jeremy’s feet ran beneath the horse’s belly.
The hireling tied it in a loose loop around Jeremy’s neck.
Laughing again, he gave the rope a sharp tug.
Alicen felt a sudden chill. She could see blood in
Jeremy’s black hair. He needed attention, but would she
be allowed to tend him? Had positions been reversed, he
would not have balked at her treating an enemy. But
evidently Kenrick’s idea of honor differed vastly from that
of the man who now lay battered and bleeding across
Charon’s saddle. Alicen felt her breath catch. Might he
bleed to death before she had the chance to help him?
She thought to insist upon assessing his injuries, but
her request went unvoiced as the party immediately
formed ranks around her and spurred their horses away
from the hut. Alicen prayed for Orrick’s departed soul,
and added to that prayer a plea that someone find his
body and afford it a Christian burial. Now, at long last,
he could be at peace.
***
Awaken!
The whispered command buzzed in Jeremy’s ears just
before Charon’s gait jostled him awake. Wishing to draw
no attention to his lucidity, he carefully turned his head.
By the lengthening shadows he knew they’d traveled
several hours. The sun’s position indicated westward
movement. Toward the Pennine Mountains. The terrain
had become rugged, heath and moor, and the horses
traveled in single file, climbing a gradual slope.
He closed his eyes to ease the pain behind them. How
long would he ride face down across his saddle like a
butchered hart? His ribs burned. Breathing was an effort
he had little strength to accomplish.
You must remain alert. Take shallow breaths and keep
your wits about you.
Although he’d taken a severe blow to the head, Jeremy
knew he didn’t imagine the lilting Irish brogue. He was
actually glad to hear it. If Kaitlyn O’Rourke did indeed
speak to him, she issued sound advice. He had to avoid
lapsing back into senselessness, ascertain the situation,
and plan an escape.
Kenrick would no doubt kill him at the first
opportunity. Jeremy wondered that he’d been spared this
long, but suspected Alicen’s intervention was the reason.
His former comrade-at-arms likely would plan some
special diversion, with Jeremy as the entertainment.
Of a certain, I’ll give them a diversion they’ll not soon
forget. And if I’m able, I’ll kill that whoreson Kenrick.
His heart’s pain mirrored his body’s when he recalled
Kenrick’s taunt. Had he truly raped Estelle? Jeremy forced
his thoughts back to his marriage. All had been well for
the first few months, then he’d left on campaign, returning
to find Estelle distantly reticent. She barely tolerated his
lovemaking and never sought it from him as she had
before he left. She’d told him nothing of the babe. He’d
discovered her betrayal in the midwife’s hut the day
Estelle died. To keep from roaring his grief at that memory,
he bit his tongue until he tasted blood. For years he’d
thought she hated him too much to bear his child.
In fact, she’d loved him too much to bear Kenrick’s
bastard.
Estelle, forgive me, he prayed. I never knew.
Hot tears stung his eyes and he let them fall, knowing
no one would notice or care. Except perhaps Alicen Kent.
His moist eyes dried as he considered her perfidy. She’d
claimed her betrothed had died in battle in France, when
in fact he’d been less than a league away from Landeyda,
very much alive. Yet she had saved William’s life and
treated his men with all her skill. If she was guilty of
anything, it was of believing she could, unmolested, serve
any and all in a conflict.
This thought led to a stark realization. If Kenrick
learned she’d helped William, Alicen would pay for it. The
monster enjoyed brutalizing women. Rage replaced
Jeremy’s headache. No matter her deceit, he’d not see
Alicen raped and abused. She did not deserve that for
seeking to protect her betrothed.
He went cold. Had he committed a grave error in trying
to prevent the mercenaries from taking her? If Kenrick
thought him in the least concerned, Alicen would certainly
be hurt. Making both captives suffer would double
Kenrick’s pleasure.
Still, she was not a cowering victim, the type Kenrick
preyed upon. Perhaps her defiance, or her healing skills
and apparent standing with Harold, would deter any
abuse. He could only pray this would prove true. Yet
Kenrick might decide to take sport with her merely
because she was a woman....
Fury came to no good, so Jeremy subdued it. Better
to hoard strength rather than spend it in fruitless emotion.
Anger would aid him, but not at present. He’d bide his
time and await a chance to gain advantage. Closing his
eyes, he concentrated, willing away pain and hurtful
memories. Presently, he slept.
***
They rode until nightfall, when they reached a hidden
camp high in the hills. The chill night air hung around
them like a vengeful wraith, sucking parasitically at their
strength, and the rising full moon shed only cold light.
Exhausted, Alicen practically fell from her saddle
when they at last stopped near the mouth of a cave.
But fear—for what might happen to Jeremy and to
herself—had built steadily and now consumed all thought.
She struggled to keep her wits, to find a solution to this
dilemma. Convinced
that solution lay with Jeremy, she
was determined to speak to him. If she could. At a glance
she saw that Kenrick’s men had tossed him under a
nearby oak, bound hand and foot. He appeared
unconscious, but the light was too dim to see him clearly.
Her boldness had kept him alive until now, but
Kenrick would not allow him to live much longer. She
would have to be very clever indeed to stay one step ahead
of this cruel adversary.
If she could not, doubtless both she and Jeremy would
rue her failure.
After several unsteady moments on shaking legs, she
found she could walk, and turned to attend Hercules.
The gelding nickered as she mechanically removed his
saddle and bridle, then rubbed him down with fistsful of
dried grass.
Kenrick stepped from the cave, looked around, then
stalked forward. He reached Alicen in a few quick strides
and, grabbing her by the shoulder, spun her around to
face him.
The attack caught her off guard. Exhaustion sealed
her fate. Reeling, limbs weak, she collapsed against his
dirty tunic. Reflexively, she clutched the garment to keep
from falling. But when she looked up and saw his eyes,
her grip relaxed. His gaze told her she’d learn firsthand
what forms his evil could take. She slid to the ground at
his feet. Now trembling like a willow in a wind storm, she
lowered her head to hide her terror.
Show him nothing. Fear doubtless pleasures
him...Mother give me courage.
Kenrick leered as he bent to grasp a handful of Alicen’s
hair. Pulling, he drew her to her unsteady feet. She knew
he could sense a victim’s dread, so she did not reveal it.
Instead, she gave him defiance. Her lips thinned and her
chin rose.
Surprise lit his face, and he paused a moment. “Beg
me to spare you,” he growled. “Grovel at my feet.”
His grip tightened, and he bent her head back. Hard
lips crushed down on her slack mouth.
She didn’t resist his assault in part because she could
barely stand. Only his hands kept her upright. The lust
in his eyes died instantly.
“’Tis folly to break you ere I’ve had good use of you,”
he sneered. “There’s time enough to enjoy your charms.
Sleep in the cave.” He pushed her toward the entrance.
“Tomorrow you see to the wounded.” He moistened his
Carroll, Laurie - War Of Hearts.txt Page 20