A Widow Plagued

by Allie Borne

  He had to rethink his plan.

  ~

  Finally! The wagon had returned, and their own adventure could begin! Hannah was anxious to leave the keep. The plague had made her own foray into society all but impossible. She was now nearly fourteen and had never left the outer boundaries of the village.

  Her spine tingled in anticipation of seeing the king's court. She knew that she was no more than a plain country bumpkin to the sophisticated ladies at court, but she cared not. Hannah simply wished to see the sites for herself, to store up a lifetime of memories, so that when she was old and grey, God willing, she could share stories of this adventure with her grandchildren.

  Up until this moment, Hannah knew she was singularly uninteresting. Her light brown hair and eyes, her sallow skin and thin frame had nothing to recommend them. She was not overly clever. She boasted no extraordinary skill with music, needlepoint, or healing. Her only claim to fame had been her near abduction by a band of ruffians. Even in that, she hadn't even managed to free herself from their clutches. She had to be rescued by her family.

  This adventure would be one filled with glamour and excitement, rather than terror and shame. Hannah longed for something grand to fill her thoughts and her days, for once. Too much sadness and fear had filled her childhood. There must be something better to look forward to.

  Running as a wayward child, down the front steps of the keep, Hannah grinned impishly up at the now dapper figure of Mortichai, seated regally in his blue tunic at the wagon's head. “Do ye return victorious?” she called up, grinning.

  “In most ways, aye, My Lady,” Mortichai smiled back. “Although, I do have some happenstances to report back to Lord Sanders.”

  Hannah's chest sang with excitement. Reaching up to pat the horse's neck, she looked expectantly at Mortichai. “Take good care of Heath and Heather, Mortichai. They taught me to ride, and I shall never forget them.”

  “I shall, My Lady. Thou hast my word,” Mortichai dipped his head resolutely and marched off towards Sir Gavin and the main hall.

  Hannah awaited Sir Gavin's man, as he loosed the horses from their carriage and followed him into the horse barn. “I will brush them down,” she assured him, as he placed each in a stall. “I would like to say goodbye.”

  Although Sir Gavin's entourage had come boasting eight strong and brave horses, Hannah had grown up with Heath and Heather. The mare and stallion had been her steadfast companions. Hannah thought back to the day when Sara turned the dogs loose in the exterior woods. Oh, how she had cried to lose their company.

  “We can't afford to feed such regal beasts, Hannah,” Sara had comforted. “They are strong and can find their own food in the woods.”

  Hannah had spent days on end after that, brushing and braiding Heather's mane, racing Heath through the tall grass along the creek's steep embankment. If it hadn't been for these two horses, she would have never made it through the loss of the staff, the loss of her father and her brother.

  Now, like so many others in her life, they were leaving, too. She knew they were the least valuable horses in the stock now, with the war horses Sir Gavin brought. Yet, to her, they were priceless. One last time, Hannah threw a blanket over Heath's back and led the two horses out of their stalls and to the fenced-in pasture beyond. She needed to ride with them one last time, to say her final goodbyes.

  ~

  Sir David could not believe his luck. He had only needed to backtrack a few hours up the road to find where Sir Gavin's men had camped for the night. Apparently, they had not wished to continue in the dark.

  Just before dawn, Sir David slipped back into the wagon's slatted cage and positioned himself behind a barrel and some food stuffs he found stored there. He would have preferred to ride on “the hounds,” the broad support beam behind the axle, but this wagon's frame stood exposed, for all the world to see. It would never serve as a hiding place, and he would just have to make do.

  The achingly slow ride proved fruitful, however. The wagon was welcomed into the keep. Sir David's patience was sorely tested, however, as he had to wait for the soldiers to disburse before he could ease out of the top of the polk in broad daylight. Lying flat on his stomach, heart racing, Sir David wondered for not the first time, what he was really doing.

  What could he possibly hope to gain from this experience but a swift death? Better than a long-suffering shame, he thought to himself dramatically as he swung his legs over the side of the wagon cage and dropped soundlessly onto the balls of his feet. If his cruel brothers had taught him anything growing up, it was how to stay hidden.

  Off in the distance, Sir David spied a girl on a horse. No one seemed to be accompanying her. Stealthily, he moved along the edge of the barn and out into the tall grass. Crouching low, beneath the tops of their feathered tips, Sir David managed to position his long, lean frame directly in the path of the horse Hannah rode.

  Just as she galloped past, he leaped up and grabbed her from her mount. The horse reared and neighed, pounding frightfully close to their heads. Sir David shielded Hannah's body with his own, forcefully restraining her struggles with brute strength.

  Moving on sheer instinct, Sir David grabbed the girl about the waist and dragged her toward the steep embankment.

  Hannah overcame her initial shock and stiffened as if to scream. Before she could, however, Sir David shoved his handkerchief in her mouth and proceeded doggedly toward his goal. Hannah clawed and rolled in her attacker's arms, overcoming her lack of strength with a dauntless will to survive.

  Sir David was equally determined. The moment he crossed the frigid stream, David dropped her unceremoniously on the ground. He succeeded in knocking the air from her lungs. “N-now, if ye don't wish me to conk ye in the head, then I suggest ye stop fight'n me afore ye get us both killed, fallen down this cliff.”

  Hannah looked up at Sir David's chiseled visage, her large doe eyes wide and frightened. She did not move to escape.

  Thus reassured, Sir David flung Hannah's limp form over his shoulder and edged down the embankment, with the aid of a sturdy vine. He did not have the benefit of a boat to carry them swiftly down river. Instead, he would have to haul his valuable cargo on foot and that would take precious time. Lucky for Sir David, Sir Gavin owned no dogs for tracking.

  With luck, he could camp out in a cave tonight and make his way back to his father's keep. Yea,what then?he thought morosely. Lord Polk was likely to turn Hannah Sanders over to his brother, John, to wed and bed. In that way, John could gain the title. Think, David, think, he ordered himself. How could he keep the girl, and the glory for himself?

  ~

  Sara looked down at her sleeping babe and smiled. Only two weeks old and already the child's cheeks and belly had rounded out nicely. She should make it through winter, Sara sighed. All too many bairns did not. Walking toward the narrow window of the solar, Sara's smile widened to see Hannah riding about with her horses. Twas good for the girl to get out and active once more. She had been so melancholy since the death of her father and brother.

  Many did not recognize the subtle beauty within Hannah, but as she sat astride the chestnut stallion, her tan hair flying behind her, she seemed a young Diana on the hunt. Sara could not love another creature more than she loved these two daughters. Hannah, with fierce loyalty and pride, and Elizabeth, with deep protection and affection.

  Suddenly, the scene changed before her. Hannah must have fallen. The horse had reared, spooked by something...bees, perhaps? Was Hannah okay? The grass rippled, and the horse ran off...Sara could not see what had become of Hannah. Watching just long enough to see that Hannah had not rallied from her fall, Sara scooped Elizabeth into her arms and rushed down the stone steps to seek help.

  Where was everyone? Millie must be in the sunken kitchen, preparing the noonday meal. She would find help in the bailey. Stepping out into the sun, Sara was momentarily blinded, her panic rising as her mother's instincts told her something was terribly wrong with her eldest daughter. St
rong hands encased her arms.

  “Is everything alright?” Gavin questioned, concern in his voice for her abrupt appearance.

  “Nay, Gavin, tis not. I saw Hannah fall from her horse in the far pasture. Please, for the love of God, go after her!”

  Gavin nodded and jogged out towards the pasture.

  Hannah sank upon the stone steps and began to pray that everything would be fine, that Hannah had only been stunned and had soon rallied from her fall. “Please, God, do not allow Death to stalk my family once more.”

  Long minutes dragged by until Sara could bear it no more. Rushing along the side of the keep, she stepped down into the kitchen. “Millie!” she called abruptly. “Take Elizabeth. Hannah is hurt.” Shoving the infant in her companion's arms, she grabbed the bottom of her gown, leaped up the kitchen steps, and ran towards the outer pasture.

  Heath and Heather stood, grazing amid Sir Gavin's other horses. Gavin and Hannah, however, were no where to be found. Using the alignment of the solar's window to locate approximately where she saw Hannah fall, Sara scanned the field. Her gut clenched in fear, as she noted how close they were to the steep embankment.

  Could Hannah have wandered and toppled off, disoriented from her fall? Rushing over to the edge, she saw Gavin, scaling the steep slope by aid of a vine that grew along the roots of the trees there. Silently, she watched his progress and his focus.

  When Gavin reached the bottom, he walked around in a small circle, then crouched to look at something in the mud.

  “What is it?” Sara called. “Where is Hannah?”

  Gavin looked up at his bride and shook his head. “I believe that Hannah has been kidnapped.”

  Sara froze, then a small shaking began in her core, spreading to her outer extremities. “That cannot be. I saw for myself that she fell. Perhaps she simply climbed down and went for her own adventure. She did so when I got rid of her dogs, Gavin. Mayhap she is angry with me for giving away her horses and has gone for a bit of an escape.”

  “There are two pairs of imprints here, Sara. Hannah's imprints show only once, then deeper prints, of a tall man show heavier, as if she were carried off.”

  Sara sank to the ground, adrift in anguish. “God's teeth, Gavin, save her!”

  Gavin sighed and looked up at Sara's stricken features. How had he failed these two women yet again? Would he ever be able to keep them safe? “Send Thomas and James after me. James knows how to track, and Tom is a strong fighter. We will get her back Sara, make haste!”

  Gavin did not await her compliance, but turned to follow the trail of broken twigs and branches towards his daughter's abductor. He would gut the man who did this, if he so much as harmed a hair on her precious head!

  ~

  Despite her slight frame, two hours of hoisting Lady Hannah left Sir David's legs shaky from fatigue. A lack of proper food and water for the last two days was taking its toll. Luckily, the rain had started up an hour hence. The heavy deluge would serve to cover most of his tracks. He had been careful to walk on fallen leaves and avoid brushing up against branches as much as possible.

  His brothers' cruel tracking games had taught him much about covering his trail. A steep, rocky slope rose into what looked like a tiny, trickling waterfall. If his luck held, there might be a crevice or a cave they could hide in tonight. It was early fall, and they were both soaked to the core. He would have to find some place away from the elements, if they were to not die from exposure.

  On the back side of the cliff face, behind the waterfall, David lugged Hannah. Pushing thick ivy from the rock face, David grinned to find a two-foot crevice. Drawing his dagger against any possible creatures he might find inside, David stepped sideways into the space. He was forced to set Hannah down before him. He did not trust her not to run.

  “Careful,” he warned. “I need to clear the cave of whatever might live here, so don't try anything that might get us both killed.”

  Hannah shivered and obeyed. Walking slowly before David, Hannah prayed she would not walk headfirst into a wolf or badger. This cave was much too cosy to be unoccupied. About twelve feet in, the space widened out to form a six foot by eight foot space. David had to duck to enter, but Hannah could stand straight.

  Besides some old, dried out rodent bones and droppings, the space was empty. Hannah gave thanks that a narrow crack in the rocky ceiling let in a weak shaft of light. Yet, being able to see was of little comfort, if the fissure caused the cave to crumble in on them where they stood.

  David smiled at his good fortune. He need only retrace his steps and cover their trail up the hill, and he should be able to keep Hannah hidden over night. “Stay here. I will return shortly.”

  Hannah shivered at the man who held a dagger in her direction. Despite the scar that marred his left cheek, he was young; she could tell that by the sparseness of the stubble upon his chin. He was also a man of some wealth. His leather boots were finely crafted and ran up to his knees. His tunic was familiar, and she had a sneaking suspicion he was one of Lord Polk's knights.

  She said nothing and nodded. If she were to get the chance to run, she would, but she was not so stupid as to say such to the likes of him.

  ~

  “My lord, the trail has run cold. The light grows dim. We are best off setting up camp for the night, and starting out again on the morrow. A man could break his leg out here at dusk.”

  Gavin's gut clenched. How could he leave Hannah overnight in the clutches of some mercenary? He thought back to the conversation he'd had with Mortichai, and his mind cautioned him to be patient.

  “Turns out that the three men ye captured were all Lord Polk's sons. One escaped just a day away from Lakeshore Manor. We discovered fer ourselves the identity of the three men, when we handed them over to Lord Polk. He was disgusted with his sons and told me I could keep them outside the gates.

  “I persuaded the man to deal with his sons, as the safety of the Lady Hannah was at stake. He laughed and said if his youngest son had escaped, he knew him well enough to know he never failed what he set out to accomplish, and that he'd have the Lady Hannah in his clutches, if just to prove his own wit and skill.

  “I thanked Lord Polk for his sound reasoning and excused myself back onto the trail. We did avail ourselves of his hospitality for the one night, though, My Lord; t'would have been most rude to deny him.”

  Gavin had thanked Mortichai, and headed out to reinforce the sentries along the embankment. He wanted to take no chances, now, with Hannah's safety. Twas then that Sara had sounded the alarm. Yet again, he had been too late to take the precautions he should have made at the onset.

  Now, Hannah was paying the price.

  ~

  It took mere moments for David to erase every trace of their trek up the hill. Yet, he wanted to insure the safety of their location by erasing all hints for the last mile. If he were quiet, he might snare a hare with his dagger, as well. Lucky for David, Sir Gavin's men had not searched his boots. Inside, he kept a dagger and some coin, for just such an eventuality as this.

  Mayhap he could bribe the local priest into marrying him to Hannah. Then, Sir Gavin would be forced to deal with him as a peer and not the younger sibling of his true rival. Wiping away an errant footprint, David's heart flopped in his chest. He was not really prepared to become a husband, was he? He had only just earned his knighthood a fortnight hence.

  He had no property, no funds, other than the few coins he kept in his boot. Only peers of the realm could afford to marry at his young age. Yet, marriage was the best, and fastest route to establishing one's wealth. He could be brave and do the deed, if it meant gaining his father's acceptance. And what of the king's?

  Would King Edward take offense to his absconding with the pawn in his latest game of chess? If what he'd heard of the King held true, than his majesty would enjoy the farce. It fell right into his plans, quite nicely, packaging up the little area of England with a bond between the two families. Thus joined through matrimony, the lineage o
f heirs could withstand a few more plague-related deaths.

  Twas the world they lived in that forced Sir David to think along such dark lines. The lesser nobility were nothing but place holders to help maintain the king's lands and power. As long as his actions supported this end, he was likely safe from King Edward and his men.

  Now, getting Hannah to agree to his plan remained the next item on his agenda. Sir David had very little experience with women. The camp followers that he had been lucky enough to bed had been older, experienced women. There was no need to court or romance them. Hannah was a sheltered young lady. He had no idea how to speak with her, much less convince her to conspire with him.

  She seemed timid as a doe. Sir David smiled, thinking about how her soft rounded bottom had felt against his cheek as he'd lugged her about today. She was a sweet, soft, angelic lady. She smelled of lilacs and sunshine, and he dared, for the first time in his young life, to dream of possessing something so beautiful and precious for his very own.

  It had been twenty minutes since leaving the cave. He had to return, or risk her escape. Sighing at his grumbling stomach, David edged his way back, careful to step only on leaf litter as he went.

  A snuffle made his hackles rise. David dashed up the pebbled path in time to see a tusked swine push its way past the ivy-covered opening.

  Without hesitation, David leaped up the slope and through the crevice. Just as the boar lowered his head to charge the cowering Hannah, David pounced. Crushing the pig with his weight, he sank the dagger into its spine and twisted.

  The swine gave out a horrific scream, then lie lifeless and bleeding beneath Sir David.

  A soft, hiccuping stillness followed.

  Hannah struggled to make sense of what had just happened. Had her captor risked his own life to save hers? He had not moved from the pig. Was he injured?

  Rising shakily to her feet, she stepped past his body and towards the cave's exit. Held by some invisible hand, she paused and turned around. The light had faded and lightening lit the sky. Was she really safer out there, from whence the pig had come? Could she, in good conscience, leave this young man to die, after saving her life?