Border Brides

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “The privy is outside,” she said softly. “Why? Where did you think I went?”

  He should have assumed it was something so simple. He knew she would never have run away, leaving her daughter behind, and felt rather foolish that he had reacted so. He put a hand on her elbow to escort her back to their chamber.

  “I thought a gang of savages had abducted you,” he said, trying to cover for his lack of faith. “I was coming to save you.”

  She smiled at him, an astonishingly beautiful gesture in the weak light of dawn. “Like you did last night?”

  He returned her smile. “For you, my lady, I would do that and more.”

  Her smile broadened at his rather gallant reply. “I did not thank you for your chivalry,” she said. Then, her smile faded. “I was a bit upset, I suppose. I have never had anything like that happen before.”

  His smile faded as well as he lifted his eyebrows, perhaps in resignation of a world full of dangers. “Hopefully you never will again,” he said as the reached the steps leading to the upper floor. “Which brings me to my next point, for your own safety, you should never go anywhere unescorted, even if it is to only find the privy.”

  She paused on the steps and looked at him. “Oh,” she said thoughtfully. “You are correct, I suppose. I did not think of it that way.”

  He nodded as he urged her up the stairs. “You said yourself that you’d not been out of Corfe much,” he said. “Traveling as we are, the road is wrought with dangers. You must trust that I know best in these things.”

  They reached the top of the stairs and she glanced at him. “After last night, I would say that you know a great deal more than I do about the world in general.”

  “It can be an unpredictable place.”

  “That is putting it mildly,” she agreed. “But I seem to be traveling with my own guardian angel and for that, I am truly grateful. You are a sight to behold in times of need.”

  He didn’t know what to say to that. It was a sweet compliment and one that made him nearly bashful… him, bashful? He didn’t think it was in his arrogant nature to be bashful, but evidently it was. Lady de Bretagne had brought that out in him with her gentle accolade. Therefore, for lack of a better reaction, he merely smiled at her as he took her back to the room where her daughter had let the animals out of their cage and they were now running wild in the room.

  As Diamantha dressed Sophie for the day, Cortez found himself wrangling baby animals and putting them back in their cage. But he didn’t really mind. Seeing Sophie’s happy smile when all of her animals were safe and sound somehow made it all worthwhile. In fact, waking up to her sweet little face had been one of the best things he’d ever done. He knew he could get used to it; he could grow to depend on it. That, and waking up to Diamantha every morning. There was something about that thought that seemed to make his entire life complete.

  As the sun began to break the eastern horizon to reveal a rather clear and bright day following an evening of a massive storm, Cortez and his party were on the road again, heading to points north.

  *

  After the wild rains from the previous day, the brilliant blue day of travel seemed rather surreal. Everything was crisp and green, and more than once they saw fallow deer grazing in the meadows. The road, however, was rutted and still very muddy, making it difficult for the wagons to pass. Cortez’s soldiers had to keep breaking rank to get in behind the wagon carrying Sophie to push it out of a hole.

  Eventually, Sophie wanted to ride General, who had been growing very fat and lazy being led around and constantly fed by the soldier in charge of the horse provisions. About three hours since their departure from Shaftesbury, Cortez put Sophie on General and strapped her onto her little saddle. But Sophie wanted to ride with her cage of baby animals and Diamantha had to convince her daughter that it was best to let them remain in the wagon. Sophie wasn’t happy about it but she did as her mother instructed. After that, Diamantha took General’s reins and led the pony next to her.

  Unfortunately, horseback travel wasn’t particularly exciting for a three-year-old. Less than an hour after Cortez put her on General’s back, Sophie was growing restless. Diamantha tried to distract her daughter with butterfly or bird sightings, and that worked for a while, but then the little girl would grow restless again and ask for something to eat. She seemed to be growing increasingly restless until one of Cortez’s soldiers came to the rescue.

  Luckily, the quartermaster was nearby and, having two young boys of his own, understood how to handle a small child. He presented Sophie with a small bag of dried apples, which she happily ate. She wanted the quartermaster to give General some, and the man did. The pony ate them eagerly. All the while, the quartermaster walked next to Sophie and listened to the little girl’s chatter. Sophie seemed to like to chat with any man that would listen to her, as she had with Merlin on their trip from Corfe, and Diamantha knew it was because Sophie had been used to having her father and grandfather around. It gave the little girl comfort to have a man to talk to, a man who reminded her of her father. It was a bittersweet thing to watch.

  The day continued on and they stopped briefly for a meal around mid-day. The party paused by a rather large stream that fed into a crystalline lake, and as Diamantha stretched her legs, Sophie played contentedly with her cage of baby animals. Cortez lingered near them both, vigilantly watching over their personal safety, as his knights checked on the men, and inspected the soundness of all of the animals, before finally settling down to wolf down a quick meal.

  Diamantha watched how Cortez was with his knights. The man had a calm manner about him in both command and service, and it was clear how much his men respected him. As she sat back against a tree with the remnants of a nooning meal spread out next to her, she found herself watching Cortez as he interacted with his men, seeing flashes of humor or bouts with seriousness as they engaged in conversation. At one point, Sir Drake even provoked loud laughter, which was charming to see. The more Diamantha watched Cortez, the more charming she found him. Aye, that rude and aggressive man who had come to Corfe to claim her was changing before her eyes and she didn’t mind one bit. She was even coming to like it. But that was her last pleasant thought before a grimy hand went over her mouth.

  Startled, Diamantha yanked away from the hands that were grabbing her from behind the tree, screaming as loud as she could. Cortez and his men bolted, running in her direction, as the copse of trees behind her came alive with men wielding studded clubs. As they ran towards the knights, Diamantha managed to escape the hands that were clutching at her and ran straight for her daughter.

  Fortunately, Sophie was just a few feet away and she grabbed the girl, and her cage of baby animals, and made haste for the wagons upon the road. The quartermaster, being an older man who didn’t involve himself much in fighting unless absolutely necessary, bolted from his wagons and rushed forward to help her. As men with weapons began to clash violently near the tree line, the quartermaster took the cage of animals from Diamantha, grabbed her by the elbow, and helped her up to the road where the wagons were.

  As Diamantha and Sophie sought shelter in the wagon, the quartermaster grabbed a sword he usually kept hidden for events just like this one. He stood next to the wagon, next to Diamantha and Sophie, with the sword in a defensive position as he watched the battle in the distance. And what a battle it was.

  Dornauld followed us. It didn’t take a genius to figure that out. Cortez knew it the instant he heard Diamantha scream and saw men with clubs emerging from the trees. Unfortunately, the shifty sheriff had delivered on one of his promises. He had brought at least a hundred men with him, men who were armed with those spiked clubs, and although Cortez and his men had very sharp and serious weapons, he knew they would be overwhelmed by sheer number.

  But it wasn’t in his nature to run. Cortez knew he had to beat Dornauld once and for all if they were ever going to have any peace. Therefore, he aimed for the sheriff as the man sat just inside the trees a
stride a fat white horse. But he didn’t make a move before shouting to the soldier nearest him.

  “Go back to the wagons and tell Bean to get the wagons moving,” he said. “Tell him to get the lady and her daughter out of here and head to Warminster. We will catch up once we’ve taken care of this fool and his men. And you go with them!”

  The soldier nodded sharply and was gone, running at top speed back to the wagons. When Cortez was certain the wagons were starting to move, thus removing them from danger, he turned back for Dornauld.

  Cortez had to fight his way through groups of battling men as he made his way towards the man on the round white horse. Around him, his knights were making short work of Dornauld’s less-experienced men, cutting off limbs and heads with skill and ease. Very shortly, the battle had turned into a blood bath, and all of it spilled by Dornauld’s men. Cortez was growing more furious with each successive step that the fool sheriff was bold enough to attack them on the road. Damn the idiot! He intended to make the man pay.

  As Cortez drew near the trees, he ducked back into the tree line, using it for camouflage. He didn’t want to give Dornauld an open shot at him. Using foliage and tree trunks as shields to hide him as he moved, he made his way very quietly to Dornauld, who had limited vision since his sight had been damaged the night before by one of his own men’s clubs. In fact, most of the top of his head was wrapped up, including his right eye. Since Cortez came up on the man’s right side, Dornauld never stood a chance.

  Using the small, razor-sharp dagger he always carried on his body, Cortez plunged it into Dornauld’s back and yanked the man off his horse in the same smooth motion. As Dornauld screamed, Cortez withdrew the knife and used it to slit the man’s throat. As Dornauld lay there, drowning in his own blood, Cortez stood over him.

  “Let that be a lesson to all who threaten me,” he growled. “I hope you rot in hell, you whoreson.”

  Dornauld’s wide-eyed, terrified expression glazed over and Cortez knew that he was dead. Without another glance to the corpse, he leapt onto the fat, very expensive white courser and spurred the animal out of the trees and into the skirmish beyond.

  “Your leader is dead!” he bellowed as he went. “Drop your weapons and flee, and I may show mercy. Keep fighting and I will kill you all!”

  Dornauld’s men, seeing Cortez astride the sheriff’s horse, quickly realized that what the man said must have been true. Dornauld was fanatical about the horse and would not have willingly relinquished it. Death was the only answer to such a thing. Therefore, they began dropping their clubs and running for the woods where Dornauld’s body lay. Some men ran without dropping their clubs, but Cortez didn’t particularly care. They were running away and that was all that mattered to him. He watched the gang of them disappear into the trees.

  “My lord?”

  Cortez turned to the source of the question, seeing James standing there. The young knight was somewhat winded but unharmed.

  “Was anyone badly hurt?” he asked de Lohr.

  James shook his head. “Nay, my lord,” he replied. “There seem to be a few with puncture wounds from those clubs, but nothing that will not heal.”

  Cortez nodded, satisfied. “Then get the men moving,” he said. “We must catch up to the wagons, which surely could not have gotten far with the condition of this road.”

  James nodded in agreement. “Should I send a few men after that rabble to make sure they do not come after us again?”

  Cortez was forced to agree with that possibility. “Aye,” he said. “I did not think that the sheriff was stupid enough to follow us after last night, but now with the man dead, we must discourage his followers from seeking vengeance. Send ten men to follow with orders to observe the group and then catch up to us in Warminster tonight with a report.”

  James saluted smartly and was gone. Cortez made his way back up to the road, taking a moment to inspect his latest acquisition. The fat courser was a beauty, healthy and strong, and he was quite a specimen. Cortez considered the prize almost to be worth the trouble. Almost… but not quite. He made a mental note to stop in Shaftesbury once they had returned from retrieving Rob Edlington’s body just to make sure Dornauld’s men were behaving themselves. Hatred and evil like that was not easily quelled.

  They caught up to the quartermaster and the wagons less than a half hour later, stuck deep in road rut.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The stop in Warminster had been thankfully uneventful. Since the weather was good, rather than sleep at an inn – and also being rather wary of the town after what happened in Shaftesbury – Cortez set up camp to the north of Warminster to rest for the night. The men had hunted at sundown and brought down two wild boars, which provided them with an abundance of meat for sup.

  Underneath the black night sky with its carpet of diamond-stars, Cortez and his men stuffed themselves on wild boar and told great stories of valor around the fires. It had been a pleasant evening for the most part, with Diamantha and Sophie sleeping in the wagon bed to keep them off the damp ground. Cortez slept on the road next to the wagon, just to be near them. It was his duty as well as his desire.

  The next morning dawned clear and bright again, and the roads were nearly dried up completely of their copious mud. It made travel easier as the party set out from Warminster and headed north once again. Their destination for that night was the ancient city with the great Roman baths, something Diamantha had heard of but had never seen. She was rather like an eager child as the group plodded their way from the relatively flat lands surrounding Warminster and into the softly rolling hills that made up the landscape around Bath. She was excited to reach their destination.

  Once into the hills where the ancient Romans used to mine lead and other metals, the road grew narrower and heavy foliage surrounded it. There were big ruts to one side of the path so the party, and both wagons, stayed over to the left side to keep out of the holes. It was peaceful travel and one that Diamantha, after the hectic nature of the past two days, was enjoying immensely. So was Sophie. The girl was taking a nap in the wagon bed, her arms around the cage with her pets in it, and Diamantha grinned every time she glanced into the wagon to check on her child.

  Diamantha must have been in a smiling mood because she also smiled at Cortez every time the man, at the head of the column, turned around to look at her. He would smile in return, making the morning full of smiles between them, gentle gestures that had been polite at first but were now gaining in warmth. Something had changed between them yesterday, as two people who experienced danger and triumph together. It had somehow brought them closer. At least, that’s what Cortez thought. He’d never seen Diamantha behave so friendly towards him and at first he had been wary of it. He wondered why she kept smiling at him. Then, as the day went on, she continued to smile at him and his doubt turned to hope. Was it possible that things between them were truly improving? He could only hope so.

  What was it he had thought to himself the day before? A woman who is chased will run? As hard as it had been to back off his aggressive pursuit of her, maybe in some small way, it was working. Giving her some time to acclimate and having some patience seemed to have paid off. As the village of Bath became visible in the distance, Cortez had Andres and Drake take point while he reined his charger back into the column to speak with Diamantha.

  She had been looking in the wagon again when he approached and brought his charger alongside her leggy palfrey. When she saw that it was Cortez, she broke into one of those lovely smiles he had been seeing all morning.

  “Look at her,” she said, indicating Sophie. “She has not released that cage all morning. I told her she could not take them out, so she is doing her best to keep them close.”

  Cortez peered over the side of the wagon, seeing the little girl with her arms around the cage. He grinned. “She can take them out tonight,” he told Diamantha. “I plan to sleep in a structure with a solid roof over my head and we shall get Sophie her very own room where she can take t
he animals out and play with them to her heart’s content.”

  Diamantha wasn’t oblivious to the deeper implications of that statement. We shall get Sophie her own room. In other words, Diamantha and Cortez would also have their own room. Gazing at the man, she realized she wasn’t entirely opposed to that arrangement. She was his wife, after all. At some point, their marriage would have to be consummated. She couldn’t hold the man off forever. Now, she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to.

  “I am sure she would like that,” Diamantha said quietly. “Do you have a place already in mind?”

  Cortez looked away from Sophie and to the head of the road where Bath was becoming more visible. “I was here, once, with Helene,” he said. “It was on our wedding trip and we stayed in a hostel called The Crystal Palace. It is near the ancient Roman baths, which I thought you might like to visit.”

  Diamantha was very intrigued. “I would love to see them,” she said. “I have only heard tale of them. My father went there, once. He said it smelled terrible and the water was very warm.”

  Cortez chuckled. “I remember that it did smell strongly,” he said. “There is something in the water, some kind of growth that turns it green and causes it to smell badly. You do not want to bathe in those ancient waters, I assure you.”

  Diamantha nodded her head, rather horrified by the thought of foul-smelling bath water. “I will admit that I would rather bathe in water without green growth,” she said. “In fact, do you think it would be too much trouble to arrange a bath tonight? I should bathe Sophie and I would also like to bathe. If it is not too much trouble, of course.”

  He looked at her, seeing that she was being exceptionally polite about requesting a bath. He shook his head. “It will not be too much trouble,” he said, glancing over in the wagon that held her meager possessions. “In fact, I thought to arrange a shopping trip if we do not arrive into town too late. Mayhap the merchants will still be open. This is our wedding trip as well and I should like to buy you something.”