Drawing Hugo's sword out of its scabbard, she stepped forward, brandishing it. "Stay back," she said in Persian, and they paused for a moment as they reassessed, but it wasn't putting them off, she could see it in one of the men's eyes. If they had their way, she would likely be sport for them tonight, probably all of them. She swung the sword slightly, but it was too heavy for her to use, and these men realized it. "I will cut you," she warned, the tremble of fear evident in her voice. She swung again, with more force this time, and the men stepped back.
Stepping back herself, Eloise walked into Hugo's unconscious form. "Hugo, wake up," she pleaded. "Please." She could see one of the men inching around to the side. He was trying to get her when she swung at one of them. "Hugo!"
She registered a touch on her chin, then Hugo reached down the length of her arm for the sword and Eloise almost cried with relief. He was awake.
He pushed her behind him, blinking as though he was still trying to clear dizziness from his head. Stepping forward, he swung the sword like it was light and the men moved as fast as lightning to get out of its reach. One of the men produced another sword and engaged Hugo, but couldn't compete with the knight’s powerful and well ingrained strokes.
Arms grabbed her around her waist and she felt herself being lifted. Kicking wildly, she started to scream, but a foul hand pressed down on her mouth. She bit down, pushing with her feet on the side of the ship, knocking them both over, getting a punch in the head for her troubles. The world swam in front of her eyes and she felt herself being lifted again. This man would carry her off, while the other two engaged Hugo. It was a distraction tactic, but she also saw Hugo brutally running one of the men through with his sword, pulling it out bloodied, swinging immediately for the other, who fled. But a third man was carrying her away. She had to fight, but she couldn't reach to get leverage, feeling as though she was about to faint from the shock and the terrible pain at her temple, until she was falling, hitting the deck hard.
She heard the sword hit home, piercing flesh and the cut-off groan of someone dying. In her panic, she tried to crawl away.
"I have you," Hugo said, picking her up. Turning in his grip, her arms snaked around his neck and held on as tightly as she could.
"Are they dead?"
"Two. The third fled. He won't be returning."
Eloise couldn't get control of her breathing, refusing to let go. Panic still washed through her mind, her head pounding.
Hugo walked and sat down along the side of the ship with Eloise on his lap. She made no attempt to move, too scared to be away from him at the moment. Irrationally perhaps, but her head ached so badly.
"Bastards got you, too," he said, reaching his fingers up to where her head hurt the most. She winced when he touched the bruised skin next to her temple.
"Is it bleeding?"
"There is a cut." His thumb stroked down the side as if trying to smooth the angry skin. "It is not bad, but you will ache for a few days.
"You were out and I couldn't raise you. I thought we were done for."
"We managed."
"Your sword is heavy."
He chuckled. "Yes, it is."
Eloise didn't move, instead stayed in his lap and closing her eyes, urging her heart and mind to slow and realize that the danger had passed.
"I'm sorry," Hugo said after a while, his hand resting on her shoulder. "I should have protected you better. I should have known."
"You could not have seen that rock being thrown."
"I knew these were dangerous places; I should have done more to protect you."
"We are fine."
"Both of us are worse for wear."
Eloise smiled, but the ache in her head flared, making her groan.
Chapter 20:
* * *
They sailed into Constantinople close to dusk. There would be no sailing that night as ships would leave on the morning tide.
The port was busy and militarized. Hugo saw soldier garrisons protecting the port, along with ships set to defend it against attack, which for Constantinople could come in any direction.
"I know a place we can stay tonight," Eloise said. Hugo didn't argue, instead followed her and it became clear before long that she was taking them to the building where he'd found trace of her so many months ago now. "I used to live here," she said as she walked through the street, confident in where she was going. Obviously she wasn't aware that he'd found this place.
It was noticeable that they were back in a Christian city. It was both foreign and familiar—more familiar than the Saracen cities. But the air was still warm, and scented with flowers and spice, different from English or French towns.
Hugo was tired and his head still ached. The rest of the sail had been uneventful, but he'd been on guard the entire time, sleeping only during the day and only for a few hours. If Eloise knew somewhere secure, he could use a good night's sleep before they headed out into the Greek Sea, which had its share of perils.
The streets were busy at dusk as people came out of the houses, having avoided the sun during the day. Hugo walked behind Eloise as she led the way, predictably into the courtyard he'd found before.
Up a set of stairs, she knocked on a door and the same girl answered, yelping in astonishment and hugging Eloise heartily. Gone was the suspicion this girl had showed him, replaced by the excitement of friends reuniting.
Eloise was invited in and Hugo followed, sitting down on a large chair filled with cushions. He was given tea in a glass cup, the hot liquid with the delicate scent that Eloise loved so much. He took a sip, wishing it was wine instead.
The dark-haired woman talked animatedly about people Hugo didn't know, and he felt his attention falter along with his eyelids. Before he knew it, the chatter incorporated into a dream—something softer than the anxiety-ridden dreams he'd had since their attack. Perhaps his mind knew he was safe here.
He woke by his knee being touched, finding Eloise crouched in front of him. "We're dining. Come," she said and stood. She had changed into another dress—light blue, with a high neckline that swung broadly between her shoulders. This was a European dress and it was the first time he'd seen her in a dress other than the red one with the sheer material—which admittedly was beyond repair now.
It was strange seeing her in this dress, not quite English or French, but definitely European. He wondered if it was hers; he remember the dark-haired girl saying that Eloise had left possessions behind.
She walked out the door and Hugo followed, seeing a table set up in the courtyard with lamps down its length. There were others there, people who all seemed to know Eloise. She had apparently been ensconced in a community here, along with the dark-haired girl who was studying medicinal arts if he recalled right. He'd thought it was the most outlandish idea when he'd first heard it, but he could see why Eloise would be attracted to a place like this where women were encouraged to pursue their own education.
There was a seat at the end of the table for him and his attention was immediately drawn to the food—mutton, bread, oil and vegetables. A carafe of wine stood nearby and he reached for it first, quenching the thirst the tea could not.
More people came, including a dark-haired couple with a young child—Genoese if he were to guess. Eloise greeted them with excitement, lifting the child to her hip, stroking its soft brown hair.
Suddenly, he knew this would be where she'd return when she escaped England. She had friends and they seemed the same type as her—those who escaped their society and fled to the most far-flung reaches of Europe—too remote to be hampered by the strict rules of conduct where they came from, but close enough to be familiar. This was a place they had created for themselves.
"You are a knight," one of the young men said in accented French. Hugo guessed he was Latin of some variety, maybe Greek.
"I am," Hugo confirmed.
"And you came to find Eloise?"
"I came to bring her back home."
"Why?"
This man was very direct. "Her father wishes to speak with her." The man surveyed him and Hugo wondered if her friends would try to defend her, although he couldn't imagine fighting this group. He couldn't imagine any of them brandishing a sword let alone subduing him. Surely they realized that.
"I understood her relationship with her father was poor."
"Perhaps why he wishes to speak to her."
"She doesn't speak much of him, but I suppose a reconciliation with one's family is always a worthy goal when possible," the man said guardedly. He obviously didn't know Eloise well, Hugo thought. "We will miss her. She is an adventurous girl." Hugo couldn’t disagree, not knowing anyone else he would have to chase all the way to Cathay. "Of course, she is always welcome here."
Hugo had to wonder if this man wanted a more intimate relationship with Eloise. A flare of anger rushed through him. He might not feel it if he knew that Eloise would never consider such a thing, but she would. She would pursue intimate relationships with a man she liked, and Hugo could imagine her being interested in a man like the one in front of him—gentle and inherently supportive of her.
"Of what profession are you?" Hugo asked.
"I am an apprentice stone mason."
Offense bounded through Hugo. Eloise was of noble birth and was due someone loftier than a mere stone mason, but he also knew that Eloise didn't consider such things, placing merit on the man ahead of his station, and someone like this, gentle, learned and not spending his life on the battlefield, would appeal to her. This might even be the man that she ended up with, sitting around like this in the evenings.
Looking over at Eloise, he saw her further down table, still with the child in her lap, chatting with a woman. She loved this. This was the life she sought, although not entirely as she had traveled on from here, seeking something else.
Hugo sighed and refilled his cup. His head hurt and he was exhausted, and thinking of Eloise and her complexities wasn't helping. It might actually be putting him in a worse mood. He needed sleep.
The man he'd been speaking to was now deeply engaged in conversation with another man and Hugo decided he couldn't abide the company anymore. He wasn't sure where he was supposed to sleep that night, but at this point he didn't care. Withdrawing from the table, he sought out the rooms that used to be Eloise's, finding the bed that looked least occupied and lay down.
It was heavenly to relax and close his eyes. Pain from his head injury flared, but it was still lovely to disengage his mind and sink into sleep.
A rooster's crow woke him and he had no idea where he was. Moving his hand, he reached a warm body and knew it was her before opening his eyes. She slept in her light blue dress, turned to him, her eye lashes resting on her cheeks, the smooth skin still golden from their travels. Her hair was braided and it snaked over her neck.
The urge to kiss her was so strong, Hugo had to acknowledge it. Crossing his arms around his chest, he stopped himself from reaching out to her, to right the curl that tickled her cheek.
Being on the road would be easier than this, exploring the life she had or sought—a life he didn't remotely fit into. This life suited that man he'd met last night, the one with an obvious interest in Eloise. That man could have a life like this—work with stone all day, to dine with friends and then sleep in this bed with her, giving her joy and pleasure, and children. It was a sickly sweet scenario, almost too much to stomach.
Eloise drew in breath and groaned a little as she exhaled. She was awake but her eyes were still closed. These were the things her husband would see, before being invited to sink into her delicious body. "We must leave," he said brusquely.
"There is no hurry. Another day would make no difference."
Hugo wasn't sure he could tolerate this for another day. "I wish to leave."
Opening her eyes, she looked at him and he felt exposed in their scrutiny. Perhaps she would see his jealousy and discomfort—reactions he couldn't quite understand himself. "Always moving," she said. "Don't you ever stop?"
"Only when I can't carry on. Bad things happen when you stop."
"Depends on where you are."
"Where I am, bad things happen when you stop." Ritchie flashed into his mind. Ritchie hadn't deserved to die and he'd fought valiantly, but it wasn't enough; he'd been cut down.
Eloise reached out and stroked his cheek. "Don't," he said, his attention snapping back to the here and now, and she pulled her hand back. It had perhaps come across a bit more brusquely than he'd intended, but he could not handle her kindness right now, particularly as he would probably not be able to resist any comfort she offered him. He had to get out of this place—her little haven.
Pushing himself up, he rose from the bed and stretched. They would head out to the Adriatic today and closer to the things he knew and where he belonged.
This was the point where she could cause him a great deal of trouble by refusing to come with him, but she didn't, instead rising and straightening her hair. Hugo was surprised. When had she stopped fighting him? Neither did she fight him as she said a warm good-bye to her friend, promising she would be back soon. It was confirmation of his suspicions—she had made up her mind to return here after.
Chapter 21:
* * *
Sailing down the Mediterranean held a restlessness Eloise hadn't felt before—perhaps because they were now getting close to the end of their journey. Hugo grew pensive as well, particularly as they drew closer to France, landing along the southern coast, just north of the Pyrenees.
This was enemy country and he would not fare well if caught. Captured by noblemen wouldn't be so bad as he would be ransomed, but anyone else, who were unlikely to receive or knew how to present a ransom, would probably resort to more devastating tactics.
They rode at night, through fields and down roads. The English territories were not far away, but cutting through French territory would save them a great deal of time over sailing around Spain and navigating the treacherous Atlantic waters.
Eloise sat on the back of the horse they'd stolen, a strong farm animal. It carried both of them without much bother, and Eloise sat on its large rump with her arms around Hugo for support.
Hugo was tense; she could feel it. He warily watched for people approaching. If it wasn't for the fact that they might be caught and whatever came after, it would be a pleasant ride. The early spring sun shone and the breeze was gentle. It had been a long time since she'd seen the lush and bountiful lands of France. It rained intermittently and Eloise would wrap one of the blankets around her shoulders to keep herself dry.
"How far away are we from the English lands?"
"A few days’ ride."
"I hope we don't ride into a battle from the wrong side."
"There's always that possibility, but we can ride around. We'd know of the battle long before it finds us."
Eloise knew nothing of battles and had little interest in seeing one, suspecting being exposed to sights that would ingrain in her mind when she wouldn't want them there.
They passed a French garrison in the distance, identifiable by their colors, but so far they'd remained undisturbed. It was the only hint of this war that Eloise had seen.
Hunger clawed at her belly as it had been a while since they'd stopped and stolen food. Buying food in a market or even stopping at a farm was too much of a risk, until Hugo decided to steer the horse toward a village.
"Won't they capture us?" she asked, nervousness rising.
"We should be in English territory now," he said and kept going. She hoped he was right, but perhaps he knew where they were now.
The signs were apparent when they rode into the village. Fire scars blackened some of the buildings and there was a the metallic smell of dried blood, which she suspected was left from when this village was taken. She had no idea how long since there had been battle here, but remnants were still observable.
English soldiers could be seen in the streets as they rode through, the horse navigating the cobblestones.
"We better get off in case he stumbles," Hugo said and slid off the horse's side, turning to lift her down.
They walked to the main square where Hugo tied up the horse and asked Eloise to stay with it. She sat along the wall and waited, watching as he approached a seller, buying bread and cheese. Returning, he placed his gain in her lap. "Eat while I gather some information. Save me some."
Hugo strode off and Eloise felt tension rise as he left her alone, but stayed where she was, eating her fill of bread and cheese. She'd missed the wonderful French bread, but could perhaps do with some wine. A thought flashed through her mind to slip away and seek her own destiny again, but she had promised herself that she would confront her father. She also wondered how much trouble it would wreak on Hugo if he lost her this close to home. He was placing a great deal of trust in her to be there when he returned—trust that was perhaps misplaced, but she didn't think it was because he thought her incapable.
She actually didn't quite know what Hugo thought. She still told herself that it didn't matter. Perhaps she was just too weary and tired to want to fight him, avoiding discord between them.
"The fighting is north of here," Hugo said when he returned, catching her unawares. "Prince Edward is in Gascony."
"Is that where we're going?"
"Yes, we will sail from there, right up to Windsor."
Eloise had never been to Windsor and the idea of it set a knot in her stomach, which she suspected would stay until this whole matter was resolved. Hugo untied the horse and they walked to the other side of town, where he mounted, then reached down and pulled her up on the horse's back.
The signs of war were everywhere as they rode farther into English lands. Scarred earth and buildings, broken carts and animal carcasses.
Eloise didn't want to see it or to think what he did as a knight. It all seemed so pointless—English knights fighting French knights, for French lands and King Edward's claim to the French throne. "Is the war close to ending?"
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