done, she picked up a roll of bandage more than a
handsbreadth wide. He assumed that was for his cracked
ribs.
“Sit up straight, Captain,” she ordered curtly.
Certain of the reason for her pique, he silently
complied. Doing so brought their bodies closer, and her
knees brushed his thigh. She was as near as she’d get.
When she reached across to bring the bandage around
his ribs, he reacted.
“God’s wounds!” he bellowed, lurching. He hooked
his arm beneath hers and levered her hands away from
him. Startled, she dropped the bandage. It rolled across
his lap and away from both of them. “Your touch is as
gentle as a death blow, woman,” he ranted.
As Kenrick roared with glee, Alicen shot a fuming look
at Jeremy. “You addle-headed dolt, I barely touched you!”
With a snort of pure disgust, she reached over his
legs to retrieve the unraveled bandage.
It was all the opportunity Jeremy needed. As Alicen
leaned forward, he slipped his right hand into her large
apron pocket. Long fingers quickly curled around a handle
and withdrew the instrument without alerting her that it
was gone. The cleverest cutpurse would have been
envious.
Before Alicen had resumed her previous position, her
blade lay flat beneath Jeremy’s thigh. Even with his hands
rebound, he’d be able to use it.
He had his weapon. Now, he needed darkness.
***
As the sun lowered to the western horizon, Jeremy
plotted. Apparently, only two men guarded the horses,
just out of sight of the encampment, in another clearing.
He’d seen a small fire the previous night and assumed
the guards used it. With any luck, they’d be so content
with their lot they’d not know he was upon them until far
too late. Despite the blade, he was nearly weaponless,
and injuries would slow him. A hard fight would be
disastrous. Yet if he let the odds against success daunt
him, he’d never attempt to reach freedom.
Alicen presented another problem. She insisted she’d
not aid him, that duty compelled her to remain to treat
dying killers rather than leave such threatening
circumstances. To his mind, honor sat uncomfortably on
a woman’s shoulders.
Nay, he’d not deny that devotion to duty was one of
her strengths, though it be foolish to cling to in this
situation.
Glancing toward the wounded, he saw her sitting
beside a badly injured man. She held his hand, offering
comfort against his severe pain. Jeremy’s chest tightened.
Such compassion was too valuable to be abused. Kenrick
would never restrain himself from hurting her, perhaps
destroying the charity that made the woman so unique.
Jeremy made his decision. Alicen Kent was leaving
with him that night—in her saddle or across it.
***
By the light of a single torch, Alicen changed blood-
soaked bandages and watched over her charges, feeling
like a lioness guarding her cubs. It approached midnight,
and she was the only fit person in camp yet awake. One
man, delirious, had torn the stitches she’d so recently
sewn. No one had been inclined to help her restrain him,
forcing her to use a draught of her precious lettuce
narcotic to sedate him. Now, he slept like a corpse.
She herself felt sedated. Her back ached and her eyes
were gritty from lack of sleep. For over four days she’d
had almost no rest. Now, her body told her emphatically
to stop her frantic pace. Still, her mind fought her physical
weakness. Much remained to be done. She could not rest
yet.
But exhaustion won out over will. She rose and moved
a little apart to make up her pallet, telling herself she’d
rest but a few moments. ’Twas quiet; she could steal a
short respite.
The next she knew, a man’s hand had clamped tightly
over her mouth.
Kenrick! She clawed at her attacker’s arm, seeking to
dislodge his hand, attempting at the same time to bite
him.
“Hush, lass!” came a deep, familiar voice beside her
ear. “Cease ere you alert someone.” The moment she
relaxed, Jeremy released his grip. He drew her to a sitting
position, then leaned close again to whisper into her ear.
“Silence now. Gather your things quietly. You’re coming
with me.”
“But how did you—”
His finger came out of the darkness to press against
her lips. “Shhh. All in due time. I need your aid.” When
she tensed, he quickly pressed his argument. “I cannot
escape alone, Alicen. Come with me.”
“I won’t—”
He pulled her to her feet and into the great oak’s
shadow. “You’ve done all you can. Once Kenrick realizes
this, he’ll not refrain from raping you.” Even in the near
blackness, he saw this point hit its mark. “And what of
his plan to kill me? You must come, Alicen. Help me. It’s
our only chance.”
“I cannot kill—”
“You’ll not have to. You only need to distract the
guards long enough for me to disarm them. Then we’ll
take our horses and ride for help.”
At that point she realized how tightly he held her
upper arms. His urgency came through that grip as
certainly as if he’d spoken. She also knew his
determination to take her along, willingly or not.
“Tell me what to do,” she said quietly.
***
She had never felt so vulnerable. What Jeremy
required of her was simplicity itself—she would approach
the men guarding the horses and ask to see to Hercules’
welfare. Her argument was to be that, in the frantic activity
of the past two days, he had lacked proper tending.
Her shaking knees threatened to undo her, but she
steeled herself to her task. Thoughts of Kenrick’s reaction
should this escape attempt fail strengthened her resolve.
She stepped boldly toward the fire, noting as she did so
that Jeremy was creeping into position behind the two
guards.
The thundering of her heart eased somewhat when
she observed that only one of the pair was awake. The
other slumped against the trunk of a small tree, chin on
chest.
“I—” Her voice faltered, forcing her to swallow before
trying to speak again. “A favor, kind sir.” In the flickering
firelight, she saw the man smile. The expression chilled
rather than heartened her. “I wish to see to my horse.
The bay gelding. I’ve been so busy of late—”
There was no need to continue. Jeremy, striking with
the silent speed of a jungle cat, brought a club as large
around as his wrist down across the back of the man’s
skull, felling him soundlessly. He pivoted and struck the
sleeping guard across the head, too, knocking him to a
supine position.
“Find Hercules and saddle him,” Jeremy order
ed
Alicen in an urgent whisper. “Quickly!”
Working purposefully, he bound the mercenaries’
hands and feet with the rope that had lately bound him.
He gagged them with pieces of their tunics and dragged
them behind the tree, then stripped both men of their
daggers and swords, strapping the longest blade to his
hip. Just as he finished, Alicen approached, leading
Hercules and a still unsaddled Charon.
“Good lass.” He grabbed the nearest saddle and
blanket and threw them onto his destrier. “Beyond the
lightning-struck oak is the trail,” he said to her as he
worked. “When the horses begin running, ride as quickly
as is prudent. Hide if you hear pursuit.”
Taking a short sword from his belt, he offered it to
her hilt first.
She stared at the weapon gleaming dully in the
moonlight, and shook her head. “I’ve no use for such as
that.”
“You may.” He pressed it into her hand. “Please, lass.”
Wordlessly, she took the sword and stuck the
scabbard through her belt.
“Wait for me at the summit. I’ll signal you when I
arrive. Go, Mistress. Go with God.”
As soon as Alicen and Hercules disappeared around
the oak, Jeremy drew his newly acquired sword and
severed the hobbles restraining each of the mercenary’s
mounts. Then he seized the unburned end of a log from
the watch fire and swung the flaming brand at the
animals. The flat of the sword across the rump of the
nearest horse made it shy against its closest compatriot.
Their alarm, coupled with the waving fire in Jeremy’s
hand, spread panic. Ears pinned back, the horses
screamed their terror and surged down the trail, through
the camp, into the trees.
Jeremy hurled several small, half-burned logs at the
fleeing animals. Sparks flew when the brands hit trees,
rocks, or the hard ground, igniting several small blazes.
“The horses are loose,” he shouted. “The horses!”
Hearing the confused cries of the awakening camp
and the thunder of trampling hooves, he mounted Charon
and, without looking back to see the results of his efforts,
urged his steed up the trail after Hercules.
“C’mon lad, we’ve moonglow to guide us,” he
murmured, spurring Charon to a trot. Periodic glances
over his shoulder told him he was not yet being pursued.
But he couldn’t be sure for how long.
The tumult from the camp increased as the alarm
spread and men, jarred from sleep, rose in disoriented
confusion to fight spreading fires and pursue fleeing
horses.
Confusion would mask their escape. The longer his
endeavor remained undiscovered, the better his chances
of getting Alicen and himself to safety.
He turned his attention to the trail, peering ahead
into the dimness for signs of her. Riding hard until some
distance from the camp eased fear of pursuit, he reined
Charon to a walk.
Alicen could not be seen on the trail before him.
Abrupt fear twisted his heart and made his breath
congeal in his throat. Could she possibly be so far ahead?
He’d told her to ride hard to the summit, and she was
fearless in the saddle. Or had Kenrick placed guards on
the trail? His blood chilled at the thought that she could
be recaptured.
Charon stopped on his signal, and Jeremy sat
listening. Only night sounds reached his ears. A bend in
the trail effectively cut off additional sounds from the
camp.
He drew his sword.
“Alicen?” he called softly but clearly.
Silence.
Apprehension tinged his voice with sharpness.
“Alicen? Where are you?”
He let Charon proceed at a walk. Every sense attuned
to his surroundings, he searched with all his faculties for
the woman who’d saved his life.
What could only have been moments stretched
seemingly into hours. The trail ahead remained empty.
Icy sweat trickled down his sides to soak the bandages
wrapped tightly about his rib cage. He discovered he was
holding his breath.
“Alicen?”
What could have happened? A dozen answers to that
question assaulted him, increased his apprehension. It
took great effort to refrain from roaring in frustration.
Then suddenly she was there, riding Hercules out
from behind a concealing stand of trees a few yards ahead.
Jeremy’s relief found expression in vexation, in the
harsh expulsion of his breath. “Why did you not answer,
woman?”
The half-light could not conceal her abrupt
indignation. “I was unsure ’twas you.”
“We’ve lived under the same roof nearly three months,
and yet you don’t recognize me?”
“’Tis dark, if you haven’t noticed,” she shot back. “And
you didn’t signal as you’d said you would.”
His reply was a grunt of disgust. He checked down
the trail once again before turning back to her. “Ride
ahead. I’ll guard our backs.”
Though it was wide enough for two to ride abreast,
he didn’t want to be near her at that moment. He had no
desire to be reminded he’d just played the fool. Silently,
he cursed his ineptitude. He, who rarely erred in dealing
with others—friend or foe—became a bumbling idiot
around Alicen Kent. The fact she completely befuddled
him gouged his pride.
Her stiff posture indicated that his gruff treatment
angered her. And, in truth, how could he blame her for
doing as he’d said? He had forgotten to signal, after saying
he would. She rarely followed orders, then when she did,
he snapped at her. His inconsistencies most likely were
driving her to madness.
They traveled in silence until the moon had passed
its zenith and they approached the mountain’s summit.
At the apex they heard it. From below them, muffled
at first, barely distinguishable from the night sounds of
the forest. But the din built quickly—a keening that raised
the hackles on Jeremy’s neck and caused Alicen to whirl
in her saddle.
Jeremy, prepared for the worst, crowded Charon in
beside Hercules on the trail.
“That sounds like—” She paused, and he saw her eyes
widen. “Screaming.”
Fourteen
Frantically she sought to pierce the dimness and
clearly view his expression, but he kept his eyes averted.
“What’s happening down there?” Her whisper was
raw, the tone indicating she meant only to confirm her
suspicion.
“Kenrick’s killing the wounded.”
“Jesu be merciful! Why?”
“They’d slow his progress, possibly fall behind and
turn informants for his enemies.” Despite his revulsion,
Jeremy remained calm in an attempt to stem her growing
hysteria. “He did the same in France.”
The scream that burst from Alicen’s throat echo
ed
the rising scream from below. “Noooo!”
She tried to rein Hercules around, but Charon’s bulk
prevented that. Jeremy guessed her next move and,
leaning across his saddle, grabbed her about the waist
before she dismounted. With a tug and a grunt of pain,
he hauled her onto his lap.
Rage ignited like a flaming brand to tinder, and she
fought to free herself even as Jeremy’s arms closed around
her.
“Put me down! Those men are dying! I must go to
them!”
Freeing her right hand, she flailed at him, landing
blows to his head, chest and shoulder. Every strike
doubled the pain in his ribs, but his grip tightened as he
tried to control her and keep them both in the saddle. It
took tremendous effort.
“Alicen, they’re dead!” His chest heaved with each
breath he drew. “You cannot help them.”
“I must,” she screamed. She wrenched her other hand
free and struck with both fists. “Let me go!”
In agony, Jeremy tried to readjust his hold but lost
his grip. Like a wraith, she slid from the saddle and ran
down the trail.
Toward the slaughter.
“Alicen!” He was equally as swift dismounting, but
the jolt sent pain radiating through him. He had to catch
her quickly or his strength would fail and she’d escape.
Gathering himself for one supreme effort, he burst into a
dead run. His long strides soon closed the distance
between them.
Sensing his approach, Alicen increased her pace, but
even though injuries slowed him, he was still faster than
she. Ten rods into her flight, he caught her and brought
her to ground, rolling beneath her falling body to soften
the landing.
Their momentum carried Alicen to her back, and
Jeremy’s chest pressed her to the ground, effectively
ending her escape. She struggled but was pinned,
helpless, beneath him.
“Let me up!” she pleaded, wriggling fiercely. “The
wounded need me.”
The impact of their fall nearly made him faint, and he
thanked God he’d overtaken her just then. He could not
have gone much farther. Panting, Jeremy said as gently
as his burning ribs allowed, “They’ve need of a priest now,
not a healer.”
The screams had stopped. At this realization, Alicen
went limp. “No...Jesus, Mary and Joseph, no.”
She pressed a fist to her mouth in a futile effort to
Carroll, Laurie - War Of Hearts.txt Page 22