“I thank you, Martha,” Angelet said gravely, aware that she didn’t look a thing like a lady, huddling under a blanket while she sat on the floor.
But Martha acted as if she saw nothing odd about it. The maid gave a quick, very practiced look around the room, assessing the supply of firewood, the blankets, and the cleanliness of the room. Nodding in satisfaction, she turned on her heel and scooted out of the room.
A moment later, Rafe came in, carrying his sword and daggers, all in their sheaths.
“What did you have to do?” she asked.
“Rain isn’t good for armor or weapons. I had to dry them all off and re-oil the metal. One of the stable boys is getting an extra coin tonight. He sleeps in the loft above the stalls, and he’ll see that no one steals the armor from where he’s keeping it.” The weapons were clearly another matter. Rafe wouldn’t part with them for anything. He put the weapons down near one side of the bed, then moved to the wash bowl.
“What are you doing?” she asked, watching avidly as he stripped off his shirt.
Rafe held up a razor. “Shaving.”
Angelet stood up, wearing the blanket like a cloak. “You’re doing that for me?”
“Self interest,” he said. “I’ll get more kisses if my skin doesn’t scratch like sand.”
“Isn’t it curious how your self-interest always benefits me as well?” she asked, walking over to the bed, choosing the side opposite all the weapons. She didn’t want to trip over those things in the night. She sat and watched him as he shaved.
After he’d taken care of that, he peeled off the rest of his clothing and hung everything up to dry. Then he crawled into the bed, reaching for her with a smile. “What’s your first order, my lady?”
Angelet looked away, feeling shy. “That’s not a game we have to play. You were kind to indulge me once, but I never expected you to remain…subservient.”
He took one of her hands and kissed the palm. “I liked it.”
She sighed at the kiss, and he caught her shoulder in his other hand, lowering her back onto the bed.
“Why does it appeal to you?” she asked.
“Normally, it wouldn’t,” Rafe said. “Not at all. I offered myself that way because I didn’t think you’d accept any other way.”
“I wouldn’t have,” she said.
“Lucky for me, then. But the truth, Angelet, is that I’ll want you any way you care to have me. I’ll order, I’ll obey. I’ll be gentle, I’ll be rough. Whatever you like…just tell me.”
“Rafe, I hardly know what I like.”
“Then use me to find out.”
“For the time we’re together? Then what do I do with my newfound knowledge?” She didn’t mean to get contemplative, and Rafe must have heard the unwanted sadness in her voice.
“The only thing I know, Angelet, is that the future is hidden. There’s no point at all in worrying about what will happen. Just live for now. Tonight.”
She reacted by clutching at him with both hands, pulling him down to her.
“You’re right,” she whispered, her voice now husky with need. “Tonight we’re together. So my first order is for you to kiss my breasts. Show no favoritism. Lavish both with attention.”
He looked pleased with her request. “Yes, my lady.”
* * * *
The next morning dawned grey and misty. Rafe took one look outside and declared that the horses needed another day of rest. “And so do you,” he added, with a wink.
“As you think best,” she replied, imitating the tone of her mother-in-law, Lady Katherine. She’d heard the woman say that so many times to Otto, and all it meant was that Katherine knew Otto would do whatever he wanted, whether it was best or not.
Rafe, though, gave her a skeptical look. “Don’t start trusting me, my lady.”
They spent the day quietly, using the morning to discuss a more detailed plan to get Henry safely back with Angelet from where he was living in his foster family’s home. After that, Rafe checked on his armor and horses. He talked with the innkeeper and a few guests in the common room, inquiring about the roads to the south and west, and any news from London.
Angelet spent a large part of the day in their room, partly because Rafe worried her distinctive appearance would be noticeable in the day, unlike the night before, when the driving rain had observers scarce.
They spent the evening together again, and Angelet discovered a few more things she liked, especially when Rafe was the one to teach her about them. He confessed that his past contained more scandalous incidents than the one he wouldn’t talk about.
“And some of those encounters taught me a lot,” he explained with mock seriousness. “And now I can pass that knowledge on to you, my lady. Or a sliver of it, anyway. I know too much to teach you everything in the short time we’ve got.”
She laughed. “Rafe. I order you to shut up.”
He obeyed, but as it turned out, he could still do many things without talking.
* * * *
The next morning dawned soft and warm, leaving no opportunity to linger. They rode at a slower pace that day, a choice that turned out to be fateful. But all through the morning, Angelet’s spirits were high, and she looked out on the world with a renewed sense of hope.
After the cold and wind and rain, this was another true spring day, with a sky the color of a robin’s egg, marked only by streaks of thin, high clouds. Birds darted madly through the air, twittering and singing as if they’d only just discovered how to do it. They argued fiercely over branches and trees, all of which were now bursting into leaf, looking like a veil of green cast over the whole forest.
She smiled at Rafe whenever their eyes met, which was often. The path was clear and relatively straight, so he could relax, riding easily in his saddle.
Angelet watched him as they rode, noting things about him she’d missed at first. There was something essentially sad about Rafe. Even when he was acting at his most carefree, there was a tightness around his eyes, as if he could not forget something unhappy. She was certain the mysterious event in his past was to blame, but she was also certain he’d never speak of it to her, not ever, and so there was nothing she could do to relieve his sorrow.
They stopped to rest beside a stream running near the road, about fifty paces from the track itself. Angelet retrieved bread and cheese from the packs. She grabbed the wineskin for Rafe, but as it turned out, both of them preferred the water from the stream. Angelet dipped her hand into the cold, clear water over and over. “The rain must have filled all the streams with fresh water. This tastes better than anything I’ve drunk for years,” she commented.
Rafe murmured agreement, but he seemed distracted. He looked around, his bearing casual. But Angelet knew him well enough now to see that he was wary.
“What is it?” she asked quietly, not moving from her place at the side of the stream.
He didn’t answer for a moment, but then visibly relaxed, looking over at her. “Nothing. I thought I heard something out of place. I must be imagining it.”
“What did you hear?”
“Hooves.”
She stood slowly, hoping to catch a hint of the sound Rafe mentioned. She heard only birdsong and the breeze.
“It’s nothing,” he said again. “I tend to always be searching for signs…even when they’re not there.”
She accepted his answer, but started to grow uneasy.
They rode on, but an hour later, just after they rounded a bend in the road, he took hold of her horse’s reins and drew her aside, off the path.
“What is it?” she whispered after he helped her dismount.
“Hush.” Rafe’s expression was stone. He was alert, watchful.
Angelet kept as quiet as she could.
He waited, listening for something she couldn’t hear.
Finally, he put one finger to her mouth.
“Stay here,” he breathed, his lips at her ear. “Don’t move. Don’t say a word. I have to move, but I�
�ll come back. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Angelet was taut with fear, but she nodded once. She would keep silent and still while he flushed out their pursuer.
He stepped away and seemed to somehow vanish into the trees. How could a man like Rafe, who commanded attention, suddenly become invisible?
She remained where she was, her breathing shallow and unsteady. She tried to be calm, but how could she? Someone was stalking them, and Rafe was God knows where in the woods, and she was standing there like a simpleton, unarmed and unable to fight back.
I won’t let anything happen to you.
She repeated those words in her head, as true a prayer as anything she said in church. But what if something happened to Rafe? What would she do then?
Chapter 19
Rafe left Angelet, silently swearing that if anything happened to her, he’d shred her assailant to pieces.
He knew someone was following them. He’d suspected it all day. Losing a full day of travel had been stupid. They could have pressed on through the mist, but he chose to stay in the warmth of the inn, lured by the desire to have Angelet to himself for another night, especially when he wasn’t drawn out from a full day of travel.
Well, he’d got his night. And now he was paying for it.
Rafe continued to circle around to the road, listening intently for the slight sound of a horse’s hooves. He caught a shuffling, and loosed his dagger from its sheath. The close cover of the trees made his sword less appealing just now. But his dagger never failed him.
The shuffling came again, along with a low mutter. The pursuer, whoever he was, realized Rafe and Angelet had stopped. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to know that he’d been detected. Or that Rafe was so close.
Twenty paces, ten paces. Rafe could move silently when he wanted to, a talent that often surprised people who only saw his swagger.
It would definitely surprise the short, hooded man who was now five paces away, facing the other direction. He gripped a dagger in his right hand.
Rafe lunged, knocked the dagger from the man’s grasp with a well-aimed strike, and then used his left hand to seize the shorter man by the shoulder and swing him around.
“At last I got you,” Rafe spat.
“Got me?” a voice squeaked.
Rafe’s eyes widened. “What the hell?”
The person following him was hardly more than a boy.
The kid took a huge breath, then without warning, flung himself at Rafe, attacking with wild blows.
To fight him at his full strength would be murder, so Rafe simply parried the boy’s untutored attacks until he saw an opening. Then he used one leg to sweep under the boy’s feet, upsetting his balance, and then delivered a quick punch to the left temple.
The force of the blow—restrained compared to Rafe’s usual strength—sent the boy staggering backward a few steps. Then he fell heavily on his bottom. He groaned, clutching his head, capped with what could best be described as an explosion of orange curls.
Rafe sheathed his dagger. “Why are you following us?”
The boy maintained a sullen silence.
Rafe knelt and grabbed the back of the boy’s mantle, scruffing him like a kitten. “Speak. Are you a scout? Were you bringing back information on me, or the lady I’m traveling with?” he demanded.
“No!” the boy burst out, horror coming over his features. “I don’t know a thing about a lady.”
“Then why follow her?”
“I was following you!” the boy cried.
Rafe let him go, and leaned back on his heels, keeping level with the boy, who was still sitting in the dirt. “Tell me. Did Alric of Hawksmere send you?”
The boy looked confused. “Who?”
“Or perhaps he now calls himself Alric of Cleobury,” Rafe went on, though for the life of him, he couldn’t imagine Alric using a child as an agent.
“I don’t know any man of that name,” the boy swore. “I’m on my own business.”
“Business? What business could you have with me?” Rafe asked.
“A fight!”
He laughed out loud. “A fight?”
“Don’t you mock me! I want to fight you!” the boy said. “That’s what you do, isn’t it?”
“If you saw me fight, boy, what possessed you to attack me just now? You didn’t honestly think you’d win?”
The boy sounded miserable as he spoke. “I thought that you’d be vulnerable if I could sneak up and strike from behind…”
“Thieves strike from behind, boy. Are you a thief?”
“No!” The boy looked up, his glare suddenly hot with emotion. “But you are!”
Rafe was truly confused now. “I’m no thief, boy.”
“You stole my brother’s life.”
Brutal as the accusation was, Rafe relaxed, thinking he now knew what ate at the boy. He said, more calmly, “Child, I’ve killed many men on the battlefield, true. But they were soldiers, just as I am.”
“Don’t call me a child. He wasn’t a soldier. You didn’t kill him face to face.”
“Explain yourself.”
“There was a tournament in Ashthorpe. You won. My brother was watching, and he begged you for a coin. Everyone heard that the Knight of the Raven is generous,” the boy explained, sounding distinctly unimpressed.
“So I gave him a coin and you’re accusing me of his death? How?”
“You gave him a few silver coins—so bright, almost white. He showed them to me, and I never saw anything so fine. But I wasn’t the only person he showed. Some others who came to watch the tournament had more in mind. They enticed him to play at dice with them. My brother was so dazzled by the silver that he wanted to add more to his stock. He followed them to where they said they were gambling. But as soon as the group was out of sight of anyone in town, the others turned on him. They attacked him and stole the coins.”
Rafe still wasn’t sure how that made him responsible for anything. “Then what?”
“One had a knife, and used it,” the boy explained. “My brother was stabbed in the belly for the sake of his new fortune. He managed to crawl to a street, and someone recognized him. I was sent for, and I ran to him. There was no hope. He told me what happened as he lay dying. He begged God for mercy, and none came. He died in front of a tavern, with only me to hear his last words.”
“Sorry I am for your loss, but I was not his killer,” Rafe said.
“No? You gave him the coins. He thought the angels had smiled on him at last. But you’re no angel. If you hadn’t given him charity, he’d still be alive. I swore I’d find you and take vengeance.”
“You’re young for vengeance, boy. How will your death help your brother now?”
“At least I’ll join him. We’ll be in a world where a few silver coins mean nothing. Kill me.”
“No,” Rafe said.
“Kill me! Or give me coins in charity, so I might die the same way my brother did! I’ve followed you this far. You owe me that.”
“I owe you nothing.” Though if the boy followed him all the way from Ashthorpe, he deserved something for his trouble. That required dedication and sheer grit.
“You took my only living family from me with your showy charity. Others might be fooled, but I’m not. You’re a fraud. A murderer who pretends to be a pious saint.”
Those words hit Rafe hard, in a way the previous accusations did not. “I’m not a murderer.”
“But you’re no saint, either. You curse everything you touch. A gift turns into a death sentence. I’ll tell the world about the Knight of the Raven!”
“Tell the world,” Rafe said, shaking his head. “I care not.”
“You do! Why else do you act as you do, offering all your winnings to the church and to the poor?”
“Because I do not need them.”
“Then why fight for such prizes in the first place?”
“Fighting is what I do.”
“Then fight me! Damn you, fight me!” the boy h
issed, once again pushing at Rafe.
“Stop it! There will be no fighting!”
Rafe looked up to see that Angelet had found them. He’d been so intent on the boy’s story that he hadn’t even noticed her approach.
“You should have waited for me to tell you it was safe, my lady,” Rafe said gruffly. He wondered just how much of the conversation she had overheard.
“I decided it was safe enough.” She stepped up to them both and put her hands out. The boy stared at her in wonder.
“What’s your name?” she asked the boy as she helped him up. It occurred to Rafe that he hadn’t thought to ask the same simple question.
“Goswin, my lady,” he said, offering a clumsy bow as soon as he was on his feet.
“Goswin, you must not fight Sir Rafe. You wouldn’t win, and to go in hoping for death is no better than suicide. Would your brother have wanted for you to die like this?”
“I’ve got nothing left, my lady,” Goswin protested. “Nothing.”
“You have your life, do you not? Come with us, at least as far as the next town.”
“With us?” Rafe said. “How do we know he won’t stab me in my sleep?”
“Because Goswin will not break a promise to me,” Angelet said.
“He’s made no promise.”
She asked the boy, “Goswin, will you promise me that you will not hurt or kill Sir Rafe?”
“Or Lady Angelet,” Rafe added.
The boy looked between them, torn, then looked back at Angelet and whispered, “Yes, my lady.”
“Excellent.” She smiled at Goswin. “And I promise to protect you while we travel together. You know, you’re not much older than my son.”
Goswin was startled, casting looks between Rafe and Angelet. “You’ve got children?” he asked.
Rafe was about to correct the boy’s misapprehension that Rafe and Angelet were married. But then he caught Angelet’s quick shake of the head. She put a hand out to touch Goswin’s arm, and captured the boy’s attention again.
Raven’s Rise Page 16