The key to the mystery was obviously the king’s daughter. Which led to the question: precisely who was the girl he was harboring? The one who insisted that she was Robert Greystone’s daughter. Could she actually be who she said she was? He spurred his horse forward with an increased sense of urgency.
But when he returned to the camp, he was told the girl had gone.
“Gone? What do you mean? Gone where?”
One of the older women, Bertha, told him. “The sisters, Edith and Lylie, left with her. I overheard talk, but I thought it was just a harmless girls’ fantasy. She had convinced them she was royalty, a princess thrust into cruel circumstances. They talked about going to Tigrud. The girls would guide her there and she would arrange for their passage further south to Durham where their home is. I didn’t think they would actually do it, but this morning they were gone. They took some of the horses.”
Rand stifled a curse. What insanity. These stupid girls had put them all in danger. The road to Tigrud was no doubt thick with Morgaine’s men, looking for the girl. This was why they stayed in the Darkwood when things got hot. In the forest they were well hidden; outside, on the roads they were exposed. There was no time to lose. By now several of Rand’s men, seeing that their leader had returned, were approaching.
Rand addressed them. “Bran, John, find Dru and come with me. Saddle our fastest horses. Now!” The men scrambled, and in minutes they were making their way through the forest.
Rand did not want a big party for this search. Large bands of men made noise and attracted attention, especially close to the borders of Darkwood Forest. If they could intercept the girls before they breached the safety of the forest, then no harm would come to them or anyone else, that is, except to those silly lasses’ backsides by the time he got done with them, mused Rand. They had no such luck, however.
The girls were easy to track. The game trail they were on widened gradually as it approached the edge of Darkwood Forest. Rand and his party burst into the light. A few miles further and they would reach a road that led to Tigrud, one frequently traveled by wagons and carriages.
Rand pulled up and turned around in the saddle. “We are too much in the open here.” He looked up. “Let’s go up and over this ridge, and intercept the Tigrud road to the south. The girls would naturally take that road and we should be able to see them.” The long hill forming the ridge line was skirted by a creek and the road followed the creek as it made a long bend, so Rand realized they could cut distance off and have a better view of the route. Another faint game trail ran upwards toward the ridge top. They took it.
Once they crested the hill, they spotted the girls below on the other side. The three of them had stopped to water the horses. They were defenseless. What they could not see, because their line of sight was blocked by trees at a bend in the road, was a patrol of a dozen men in red livery coming their way—it was a troop of Morgaine’s men.
“Let’s hurry,” said Rand. “We need to get to the girls before those men see them.” He had another thought. “Dru, cut through the forest, come up on their rear, and shoot at the leader. Create a diversion and make them chase you back into the forest. Can you shake them?”
“Aye. There’s a trail I know. I’ll lose them.”
Dru set off, while Rand and the others made their way down as quickly as they could. Rand and his men emerged from cover, and he saw surprise, then alarm, in the eyes of his red-haired princess. As she caught sight of Rand and his men, she started to flee, trying to hurry her companions. Rand, John, and Bran were on them before they could escape.
“Get on your horses now,” ordered Rand. “There is a band of Morgaine’s men not half a mile from here and you are walking right into them.”
“He’s lying,” said Juliet. “There’s no one. And he can’t make us do anything.” She turned to Rand. “What right have you to stop us? I’m a princess and …”
“Yes, I know. But you’re going to be one very unhappy princess if we don’t get all of you off this road and into hiding right now.”
Rand looked down the road. Still no sign of them, but they had to be close.
“Don’t you understand?” he said angrily. “If you’re taken, they’ll deliver you straight to Morgaine. So let’s go. Now!” he barked and grabbed the reins of Juliet’s horse. His men did likewise with the other two.
Shouting and the sound of hoof beats made everyone turn their heads. Dru must have started the diversion. Still there was no time to lose. Red-liveried men appeared from around the bend in the road. They spotted the girls and Rand’s party.
“Come on,” shouted Rand. They spurred their horses forward, following Rand.
All the three girls could do was hang onto saddles as their rescuers led the horses back into the protective cover of the forest and away from the open road.
Rand could hear them in pursuit, the crackling of twigs and underbrush as they hunted. They didn’t all follow Dru, but must have divided their troop, he thought.
“We’ll have to split up,” said Rand. “John, you and Bran go north with the sisters along the ridge trail, then cut through the creek at the natural bridge. I’ll take the princess and cut west through the Eye of the Needle. They’ll have to divide to follow us all. Go, now!”
The men didn’t hesitate. They urged the horses forward. “Come with me,” Rand ordered Juliet.
“Where are we going?” said Juliet, looking over her shoulder anxiously to see if anyone followed.
“Where there are plenty of places to hide,” he said.
Darkwood Forest presented a challenge to all but the hardiest and most knowledgeable. Ancient trees competed with thick underbrush. There were hidden ravines, sudden defiles, and rock canyons with dead ends. Unless someone knew where they were going, they would be hopelessly lost or cut off within a few miles. That was what Rand was counting on.
They cut their way through narrow passages, crossed log bridges over raging rapids, and went up and over hills through what seemed like impenetrable thickets that tore at Juliet’s clothes. As night came on, they found themselves moving slowly through a canyon only a few feet wide in spots, but the canyon walls extended upwards for several hundred feet.
Just before the shallow creek through which they’d been wading exited the canyon, Rand pointed out a waterfall right in front of them, cascading from the top of the cliff.
“We’ll stop here. We may have lost them and we need to rest the horses anyway. Behind that waterfall is a cave. It’s a tunnel, a secret passage though this box canyon. It’s big enough for the horses too. We call it the Eye of the Needle.”
“We’re going to stay here? In a cave?”
“Yes, for a while,” said Rand.
Rand led the horses behind the falls and into the cave and took off saddles while Juliet looked for a place to lie down. The small opening in the cliff wall had been deceptive. They were in a large cavern. A flat ledge covered in fine dirt ran parallel to a stream that fed toward the entrance to the cave.
“Here,” said Rand, throwing Juliet a blanket. “Spread that out on the ledge.”
“What am I, your servant?” Juliet appeared to react without thinking and she seemed to regret it instantly.
Rand looked at her sharply, but ignored her rude outburst. He took some things from a pouch. There was bread and something that looked like cheese.
“I thought you’d probably be hungry when we found you.” He rose and approached her with the food.
* * *
She suddenly felt ashamed. This man had risked his life to reach her before she foolishly walked into a trap. On top of that, she felt drawn to him in a way she hadn’t experienced before. Here was a man, living as an outlaw, but responsible for the lives of the people he sheltered. During the days she’d stayed in the hidden camp, others had told stories of how he had rescued them from bad situations and had given them shelter.
Perhaps, she thought, he was less an outlaw than a huntsman who provided for his people.
She learned that Rand LaFlors maintained his privacy, sharing little of his history. But it was rumored he was a nobleman, displaced from his lands by treachery at a young age and forced to flee to the forest, to live as best he could. What outlawry he actually did seemed directed at those who traded with the red countess.
Still, it was more than simple infatuation with a mysterious stranger living on the edge of the law. She realized, as they ate in silence, that she was drawn to Rand LaFlors as a man. She wondered how his arms would feel embracing her, how his lips would feel kissing hers. The way he’d taken command of her back in the old woman’s hut took on a new meaning. Even the faintly remembered sting of that spanking conjured up different feelings now; little tingles half of pleasure, half trepidation.
What would he do to her for breaking his rules? She had convinced two others to go with her, putting their lives in danger, too. He wasn’t saying anything, but Juliet could sense anger under the calm demeanor. She stood up as he approached.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
He looked at her with his eyebrows raised.
“For everything. I just wanted to go home.”
She raised her fingers to his chest, needing that small human contact and she felt the hard muscles underneath his shirt.
He put his hands on her shoulders and leaned toward her. “I know who you are,” he said quietly. “I will help you. But you must obey my rules. You must never strike out on your own. Your actions put everyone’s lives at risk. Had you been taken, they would have delivered you to the red countess, Morgaine, and she would have made you all tell everything you knew about the camp.”
“I… I see that now. I’m sorry.” She buried her face in his chest, partly in shame, partly because she wanted to feel him pressed against her. When she glanced up, his face was inches from hers. It was a face that bespoke of empathy and compassion. He drew closer. Their lips touched, fleetingly at first. But then he gripped her shoulders and pulled her closer. This time, when their lips met, it ignited a flame in her core and she wrapped her arms around him.
He kissed her hard and it thrilled her, sending both chills up her spine and flashes of heat to parts of her she had never been aware of before. When she opened her mouth, his tongue sought hers. For a long moment, the world stopped as they kissed. She molded her body to his and thrilled to the feel of his hands moving up and down her back, caressing her everywhere. It made her knees buckle. He caught her and pulled back.
“Why did you stop?” she said.
“Because we must eat and go. We cannot assume they have given up the chase.”
“But I want you now,” said Juliet, clutching at Rand. Desire had taken over, obliterating all else.
“And I too, princess, but we must be away. We will have time together after we are both safely back in the Darkwood.” Then he added, enigmatically, “After that, whether you wish to see me again will be up to you.”
“Why?” she said.
With a wry expression Rand said, “Because there must be a reckoning. For Edith, for Lylie, and for you. You broke our most important rule.”
“But what you said… you know now I’m really Princess Juliet Greystone.”
Rand shook his head slowly back and forth. “King or commoner, princess, it does not matter. I can’t treat you any differently. The men and women of my band expect nothing less. Titles mean nothing here.”
Juliet chewed on her lower lip. She had to accept that she had brought it upon herself. She took a deep breath, and humbly asked a favor. “When you must do what you must, just promise me it will be by your hand.” She had a vague idea of the nature of camp discipline. She had heard admonishments from Ota from time to time as she scolded the younger girls and threatened that if they did not behave they would get the switch.
Rand nodded. “It will be as you wish, princess.”
Chapter Thirteen
The mood in camp was both somber and joyous. Rand’s family of outcasts and refugees were joyous because everyone had returned safely. The mood was tempered by the realization that tragedy had been narrowly avoided. Only Rand’s quick thinking and the brave acts of his men had saved the three girls before Morgaine’s men had seized them.
Rand called for a general meeting at the camp’s center where a council firepit had been constructed. It was surrounded by makeshift stools made from tree stumps. Rand told someone to drag a sturdy one to the front of the firepit.
Juliet, following Rand’s instructions, stood nervously on the edge of the crowd, next to John and Bran, each of whom had a firm grip on Edith and Lylie. She remembered what he had told her just before summoning the rest of the camp:
“The next hour will not be pleasant for you, princess, but discipline must be maintained. I have to do this so that everyone understands I will not countenance disobedience, even from you. My followers expect that foolish and dangerous behavior will be punished, and I can do no less and still maintain their respect and loyalty.”
Juliet didn’t say anything as Rand escorted her to the council fire. Her knees were shaking. Lylie and Edith looked remorseful and worried.
Rand addressed the gathering. “We are grateful that Edith and Lylie and Juliet are returned to us safely. This could have been disastrous for all of us. They were minutes away from capture when we found them. I must repeat this for you young women among us—no one leaves the Darkwood without a purpose and an escort and a plan.” He looked pointedly at the three girls.
“Our survival here depends upon it.”
“We have a tradition in matters like this and I choose to invoke it now. These three deserve punishment,” he said, gesturing toward the girls. “And it will be up to their rescuers to correct them.” At a signal, John and Bran handed each of the sisters a small knife. “Go now and cut switches, both of you. We will wait for you to return. You will present the switches to your rescuer and ask for his forgiveness. Then you will accept whatever punishment he deems proper. It is only fitting, since he risked his life to save yours. Go, now.”
The two girls took the knives and scurried off to obey. All eyes turned to Rand as he handed Juliet a knife. By now the rumors had spread. The entire camp had heard that Juliet was indeed a princess of Westvale and the daughter of the king.
“You too, princess. It should be a green shoot about this long,” he said, spreading his hands, “and about this thick on the gripping end.” He indicated his little finger.
Heads nodded approvingly. Their leader was not according her any special treatment. It was as it should be.
Nervously, Juliet followed Edith and Lylie down a path into the woods. The girls had found a bush with long springy shoots and were busily cutting and trimming switches.
“What should I do?” asked Juliet. She didn’t quite know how to go about it.
“You mean you’ve never been switched?” said Lylie.
“No. Never,” said Juliet. She had felt her mother’s hand but that had been long ago, and of course, more recently, the outlaw’s. Never had she been subjected to a whipping of any kind. The idea seemed terrifying. Her limbs were almost shaking.
“It hurts like the very devil,” said Edith, carefully peeling buds off a limber withe. “I fear none of us will sit comfortably for a time. Here,” she said, “I will show you how to do it.”
Juliet and the two girls returned to the circle clutching switches. Each of them carried three rods. Lylie had said it would be worse for them if a switch were not sturdy enough and it broke, so they had each prepared three. The switches were an arm’s length long, carefully peeled and very limber. Juliet tried to imagine what it would feel like.
Juliet followed the lead of Edith and Lylie. She stood in front of Rand and presented him with the switches she had cut. Along with the others, she made her apology, but while Edith and Lylie asked for forgiveness, she merely said with downcast eyes, “I’m sorry.”
Someone had placed another stump near the fire ring. Edith and Lylie were ordered to face each other
across the stump, bend over, and place their hands on its surface, fingers touching. They obeyed, their posture thrusting their buttocks out in readiness for the switching. Juliet watched breathlessly as two of the older women raised the girls’ dresses and tied them above their waists with twine. Edith was completely bare underneath; Lylie wore linen drawers, which were dragged down, baring her bottom.
While they were being prepared, John and Bran tested the switches, swishing them through the air. The sound was chilling to Juliet. It was a shrill whine. The men made the switches quiver with a wrist motion and Juliet realized that even a light flick of the wrist would result in a painful stroke on bare flesh.
When all was in readiness, Rand told them to begin. The men took up positions on opposite sides of the stump and tapped the switches against the bare bottoms of the girls. Edith and Lylie flinched at the contact and shuffled their feet.
“No moving, girl,” said Bran.
John said, “Look in your sister’s eyes and remember what foolishness this was.” Then the men drew back their arms.
The whoosh-swick of a switch impacted Edith’s flesh and she gasped. A split second later, John’s switch struck Lylie’s bottom. Juliet saw her eyes open wide, surprised by the intensity of the sting. The men delivered the punishment at an even pace, the strokes alternating between the two girls. Edith and Lylie reacted by yelping and shuffling their feet each time a lick was applied to the bare flesh of their resilient bottoms, but the men kept it up, laying on lash after lash with the limber switches. Juliet observed that each girl clenched her bottom cheeks in reaction to a stroke, then relaxed them before the next one struck. It was a lurid dance, the shifting from foot to foot, the bare bottoms of the girls quivering and flexing in reaction to the rapid-fire strikes from the switches. Red lines appeared on bare white skin. The girls began to react vocally now, a chorus of pleas and promises.
The Princess and the Rogue Page 9