Bishop Montruse shrugged. “Mayhap the lady was sworn to secrecy.”
LeGode rose with a nervous sigh and approached the brazier in the corner, wherein hot coals provided the only warmth in the small study. “If ’tis here, I know not where. I’ve been steward of this castle for nine years, and I’ve ne’er seen this Spear. Peace froth, ’tis a bit farfetched.”
The bishop snorted. “What is farfetched is that the knights from Luxley win every battle in which they engage. Do you wonder why the king so oft enlists their aid?” Bishop Montruse waved an arm toward the main hall beyond the door. “I’ve seen naught here that would render them with superior training or prowess, naught but a besotted head knight and a host of squires still suckling at the breast.”
Sir LeGode flattened his lips, anger simmering beneath the surface of his raging eyes.
“In addition,” the bishop continued, “Were you aware that Emerald Forest is by far the most lush and plenteous of all the king’s forests? Teeming with deer, rabbits, and wild boar, as well as an abundance of wild berries and herbs.”
“What does that have to do with the Spear?” LeGode snapped, still staring at the flames.
“Wherever the Spear resides, the blessings of God follow.”
“Mayhap our Lord is simply pleased with me.” LeGode finally glanced at the bishop, his sickly-sweet smile instantly fading, followed by a look of resignation. “Of course, your Grace, search the castle and the grounds all you wish. My servants will assist you, and I shall assign my son to supervise. I have no doubt you will find him up to the task.” He gestured toward Cedric, who was examining the fringe on his surcoat with great interest.
Bishop Montruse cast the lad a scowl ere rising to his feet. “Nay. I will take charge. Mayhap when Lady D’Clere is well, she will be more accommodating.”
LeGode bowed before the bishop. “Forgive me, your Grace, if you have not found me so. Lady D’Clere takes her council from me. I will inform her of our meeting, and when she is well enough to receive you, you can hear her sentiments. Far be it from me to hinder the king’s quest.”
“Yes. Far be it.” The bishop sneered. “There is one additional item the king wishes me to discuss with you. His Majesty has sent four suitors for Lady D’Clere, all men of title and honor, worthy of her station and two who would have improved upon it.”
LeGode’s expression twisted like a snake slithering through grass before a look of innocence prevailed. “I seem to recall messages about suitors, but alack, they never arrived.”
“They were all killed by wolves not long after leaving their estates.”
“Wolves? How sad.”
Though Ronar could detect no such sorrow in the man’s tone.
“You know nothing of this?”
“How could I?”
“Humph” The bishop turned to leave.
LeGode moved toward him. “If I can assist you in your search, your Excellency, I am your servant. But I fear what you seek is not here.”
“We shall see.” Bishop Montruse snapped at his page and the boy fell in line as his master headed toward the door. Before he exited, the bishop turned, his robes swinging about him. “If you are hiding the Spear from us, Sir, we will not only find it, but you will find the noose.”
The last thing Ronar saw ere he followed the bishop out the door was Sir LeGode clutching his throat.
Chapter 5
He recognizes me. He recognizes me. The realization pounded through Alexia’s thoughts and thundered through her heart as she left the great hall and made her way to her sister’s chamber. She knew she should leave immediately before the surly knight sought her out, but she was desperate to check on her sister one last time ere she left.
However, now as she attempted to sing again per her sister’s request, her voice emerged rattled and about as soothing as a cow’s bell. But her sister made no complaint. Repeatedly, she smiled at Alexia as her breathing slowly settled.
Mayhap the friar was right to ask Alexia to stay away from the castle this night. Another day or two and the glimpse that dastardly King’s Guard had of her in the moonlight would be but a fleeting memory.
Potz! Why had she glanced his way? Her curiosity had gotten the best of her. Along with her foolish courage and impatience. All qualities Friar Josef had warned her about.
Despite Alexia’s jangled voice, her sister finally drifted to sleep. Sweeping hair from her brow, Alexia leaned and kissed her forehead, wincing at the heat and dampness she found thereon. A reminder for her to speak with the apothecary.
After squeezing Seraphina’s hand and bidding her good eve, Alexia slipped from the room ere she changed her mind and stayed by her sister’s side for good. Once in the corridor, she leaned back against the thick door and drew a breath, whispering a prayer into the darkness. Candles, waning with the night, shifted light and dark over the hallway as she started on her way. So immersed in her thoughts and prayers, she took no note of the body that stepped in her path until she was nearly upon him.
Her scream was instantly silenced by a firm hand on her mouth—a rough, calloused hand that smelled of horses, wood smoke, and wine.
“Softly, my cosset, softly,” the man whispered.
Knocking his hand away, Alexia spun around in a move the friar taught her. But before she could shove her elbow in the fiend’s gut, he pressed both her arms onto her chest and held them locked. No amount of thrashing, kicking, or struggling granted her an inch of freedom. Instead, it only caused her breath to heave and her annoyance to rise. He pressed her back tight against his chest as his warm breath wafted down her neck, followed by a sultry chuckle.
“A feisty little one, aren’t you?”
“I’ll show you how little I am when you release me.”
“I would love the chance, but I find I’m quite enjoying this close exchange.”
“Foul beast! I shall scream.”
“Nay, you would have done so already. In truth, I wager that by now you know who holds you and what secrets we share.”
Cursing her foolishness, Alexia made one last attempt to free herself, but the knight was steel against her back with arms of iron keeping her in place.
“Strong for one so lithe, but not strong enough, little one.” The voice was deep, like the soothing purr of a lion, yet bore no threat of harm.
“Prithee release me, and I will not run.”
The iron bands lifted, and she jerked from him and spun around.
Crossing arms over his chest, he leaned on the stone wall, a hint of a smile on his otherwise severe lips. “Greetings, Falcon of Emerald Forest.”
Alexia frowned. “What do you wish with me?”
“We shall start with why you wanted me dead.”
She huffed and looked away. “Your ego, Sir Knight. ’Twas not you in particular.”
“Ah then, are the deer so scarce that you have need to hunt men?”
Alexia took a step back and studied the man—the only man—who had ever caught her. Twice in the same day. He stood a head above her, the armor on his shoulders and forearms doing a poor job at hiding the muscle beneath. Black boots rose to his knees where they greeted woolen breeches and then a tunic covered by a sleeveless leather doublet. A sword and various knives were clipped to a belt circling his shoulder. Brown hair hung loosely about his head, brushing over a manicured beard, while a jagged scar cut through his right eyebrow. But it was his eyes that lured her… deep blue and filled with sorrow and an intensity that made her squirm.
“’Twas merely a warning. If I’d wanted you dead, you would be.”
At this he smiled. “A warning?”
“Aye, I protect the forest.”
“Then you are under the king’s commission? You may wish to enlighten Sir LeGode as he believes you to be stealing the king’s meat.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I provide for those in need. The king would surely agree.”
“Would he? How presumptuous of a peasant girl to speak the mind of the king
.”
“I have many talents,” she returned sharply.
“Alack! And a talented thief at that.”
Uncomfortable silence yawned between them, and the look of interest in his eyes made her both nervous and gave her hope he would release her.
“I am no threat to you, Knight.”
“Unless I enter the forest, ’twould seem.”
“Indeed.” She raised a playful brow.
“Why risk coming to the castle, Falcon?”
“I sing for Lady D’Clere. It soothes her.”
He nodded. “Such a voice would soothe the demons in hell. Still, why risk it for one who would order you about were she well?”
Alexia bit her lip. “I do as I am told. Sir LeGode overheard me singing in the courtyard and ordered me thus.” Those infernal eyes of his! They seemed to dig right into her very soul. “Will you give away my secret, Knight?”
He cocked his head as a flicker of candlelight shifted across his eyes. “Nay. But on one condition.”
Dread consumed her. “Pray tell.”
“You grant me a kiss.”
♥♥♥
Ronar had no idea why he asked for a kiss. ‘Twas something more akin to Jarin’s intrigues. But the way the candlelight shone over the woman’s moist lips, so soft, pink, and enticing…well, in truth, Ronar could think of naught else worthy of his silence.
The lady’s expression hardened, and her eyes pierced like the bird for which she was named. But the moment passed, and her features softened… and a smile ever-so-seductive raised a corner of her lips.
“Very well,” she said. “’Tis a small price to pay.”
Oddly, Ronar felt disappointment at her easy acquiescence. Still, why deny himself?
Tilting her chin upward, she puckered her lips and drew close. Ronar’s heart betrayed him with a leap whilst his blood heated and his body reacted even before their mouths met. He moved to greet those luscious lips, desperate to feel their softness….
When she plucked a knife from his belt and held it to his chest.
Her eyes seethed. “You foul, lecherous, ill-bred princock. You dare barter such favors from a lady?”
He smiled. Tush, what a fascinating woman. He glanced down at the blade leveled upon his heart. “Have you ever stabbed a man, my cosset? Even if you have the strength to pierce my doublet, you must penetrate a barricade of bone and muscle. And then you must know the exact location of the—”
“Silence!” She pressed the blade. “I have the strength, Sir Knight. Will you wager your life on it?”
“Would you wager yours? When all I require is a kiss?” A kiss he suddenly no longer desired.
She huffed. “Were I to grant your sordid request, you would betray me, withal, and I would be disgraced.”
“Disgraced by one kiss?”
“One kiss given in payment, aye.”
“Ah, a talented and moral thief. I’m intrigued.”
“I am no thief, Sir.” Her eyes, green as forest moss, flashed.
“The law argues, my little Falcon.”
“Laws made by men, not God.”
He chuckled. “Alas, a God-fearing thief as well.”
“Back away.” She pressed the knife, and he allowed her to move him aside. Why? He couldn’t say, save he was enjoying himself. Immensely. A rare occurrence these past years.
“Here are my terms,” she began as pointedly as if negotiating a treaty. “I will leave you with your life, Sir Knight. And you will not disclose my secret.”
“And if I should do so after you depart?”
“I will return and slit your throat.”
He smiled. “To see you again would be worth it.”
Surprise flickered over her lovely features, swept away by fury. “You fool. The moment you see me again, ’twill be your last.”
“I shall take the risk.”
“You find this amusing?” Her lips twisted in a most adorable way. “You know not who you face, Sir Knight.”
“The Falcon of Emerald Forest, ’twould seem.”
She pressed the blade again. This time, it pieced his doublet. Enough. In one swift move, he grabbed her wrist and wrenched the knife from her grasp.
She pounded him with her other fist. “Release me at once!” Her foot struck his shin. Pain etched up his leg.
Sheathing the knife, he clutched her other wrist and held them locked together. Then backing her against the wall, he pinned her thrashing legs with his own. “Shh, my Lady Falcon.”
Her scent of herbs and forest and woman filled his nostrils in a heady incense, spinning his thoughts. Bringing both her hands to his mouth, he placed a gentle kiss upon them.
She struggled, panting and groaning, but finally ceased with a defeated sigh. “What now, Sir Knight? Are you to steal more than a kiss?”
“You will find me too honorable for that. Nay. You may go, Falcon.” He lifted her hands for one more kiss, and light flickered over a smudge on her wrist. Not a smudge. A mark, defined, detailed.
Jerking from his grasp, she cast one last seething glance his way ere she fled down the stairs.
Chapter 6
Thwack! The arrow split the tiny branch in two, firing splinters in all directions. Alexia drew another, nocked it in her bowstring, and pulled it back, this time aiming at a pine cone sitting atop a fallen trunk nigh twenty yards away. She imagined it was Sir Knight’s tiny head housing his tiny brain. She released the string. Missing its mark, the arrow disappeared into the forest.
“You are not in the Spirit today, Alexia.” Friar Josef stood beside her, a basket of nuts and herbs he’d gathered from the forest floor in his hands.
“They seek the Spear, Friar.” She lowered her bow with a huff.
“At the castle, not here.”
“’Tis only a matter of time. This Bishop Montruse knows my mother had it in her possession.” On her way out of the castle, Alexia had found Anabelle waiting for her in the courtyard, and the young servant had conveyed all she had heard in LeGode’s study. Alexia’s worst fears were confirmed. The powerful Bishop Montruse and his three King’s Guard had come for the Spear. And from what Anabelle had said, they did not intend to return to London without it.
Friar Josef smiled and glanced at the rays of the morning sun piercing the canopy in glittering beams of light. “Where is your faith, child? God will protect it.”
“God expects me to protect it. Or so you’ve been telling me for years.” She positioned another arrow, this time aiming at a closer branch, all the while desperately trying to evict Sir Knight from her thoughts. An almost impossible feat. Infuriating man. Arrogant boor. Demanding a kiss as the price of his silence!
“God will give you the power to do His will. What a lovely morn.” The friar stopped to pick up another walnut then drew in a deep breath of the moist, loamy air. “Praise God for the beauty of His creation.”
Alexia wasn’t in a praising mood at the moment, nor could she understand why the friar wasn’t more concerned. The King’s Guard were not men to be trifled with. Lifting her bow, she took aim, this time striking her target. Anger. That’s what she needed to keep her focus. Pure, raw anger. “He saw the mark.”
“Hmm. Is that why your fury runs so rampant this morn? Holy saints, this Knight’s Guard has you quite perturbed.”
“How now, Friar? What makes you say so?” She taunted him as she drew back the string and fired at a distant tree. Thwack! It struck the spider she’d aimed for.
He shook his head. “Because the poor innocent trees, cones, and insects suffer so dearly when you are angry.”
Lowering her bow, Alexia kicked a pile of leaves. “Did you not hear me? He saw the mark.” She lowered to sit on a moss-covered boulder and examined the spear tip on her right wrist.
The friar shrugged. “What of it? He knows not what it is.”
“He’s no simpleton, Friar.” Or a weakling. The man was strong. A warrior with reflexes of a cat. Wisdom had mocked her from his eyes. “He wi
ll figure it out.”
“You worry overmuch. ’Tis a sin not to trust God.”
“’Tis a sin to throw caution to the wind as well.”
“Patience, child.” The friar smiled down at her from a face so filled with peace and kindness, she wondered if he weren’t one of God’s angels. “God well knew these men would arrive. We must but follow His leading. And pray.”
“I have been.” Almost all night. Sleep refused a visit, so Alexia had spent the dark hours kneeling before the Spear, appealing to God for His protection and to aid her in her task. She’d felt His peace, aye. And His power. But there was something unsettling about Sir Knight that had kept her emotions awhirl. A formidable opponent, to be sure. But ’twas more than that.
A squirrel darted into the clearing and stood on its hind legs, staring up at the friar.
“Here you go, little one.” He plucked a nut from his basket, knelt, and handed it to the creature, who scurried off with his treasure.
Alexia smiled. Her first one today. All woodland creatures adored the friar. She’d yet to see one run from him in fear. ’Twas the loving Spirit of God inside of him, he oft said. Which made her wonder why that same Spirit within her bore not the same effect.
He rose slowly, pressing a hand to his back, his cross wavering over his belly. “The creatures loved your mother as well.”
“You loved her too.”
“Everyone loved her. She had a gentle, kind spirit.”
Sorrow clamped Alexia’s heart. Memories of her mother had faded much these past ten years. “I am nothing like her.”
“Not true.” The friar’s busy brows rose. “You are much like her. Yet different in your own way, stronger, more determined. God made you a warrior.”
“But she was also charged to protect the Spear.”
“Aye, for a different time than this.”
Images filled Alexia’s mind, images of a candlelit room, sobbing servants, a priest giving last rites, and her mother’s frail body lying in her bed. Moist hair had stuck to her feverish face, the strands glittering gold in the candlelight as if they clung to the last spark of life leaching from her. “I remember her last day like ’twas yesterday…the fevers, the bleedings, the bitter stench of death.”
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