A dubious Bennet opened his mouth to speak.
She held up a finger to hush him. “I appreciate your concern but you have far more important things to attend to.”
She pointed to the mistletoe hanging over the door leading to the rest of the castle. “See, all the berries have been plucked and that’s after only one day. Another bunch or two need to be hung. Kissing beneath appears to be a popular pastime.”
“Aye.” Bennet grinned. “I admit, my lady, I’ve plucked a few berries of my own. Emma is very obliging.”
Alyna laughed and nodded. “Emma has always been fond of agreeable pastimes.” She waved him away. “Now, fret not and leave me be.”
The dizziness had left her. She grabbed the pitcher and sauntered to the kitchen.
At the far end, Hilda ground herbs while Beatrice sliced apples. She shook her head when they both glanced at her and they returned to their tasks, prattling all the while.
Assorted baskets were stacked in one corner. Choosing one, in it she placed a meat pie, cheese and some dried plums then laid a trencher over for cover.
Alyna tarried a few moments longer in the warm room, enjoying the idle chatter of the other women.
“I’m here!” Emma burst into the kitchen at such a pace she bumped into the doorjamb. “Ooof.”
Face awry and rubbing her hip where it had collided with the jamb, she handed Alyna her cloak.
“Thank you.” Alyna smothered a grin. “Are you hurt?”
“Of course not,” Emma shook her head. “A simple knock, nothing more.
“Emma, you must take care” admonished Alyna.
“And you, my lady. You’re the one with child, not I.”
“What?” Shock cascaded through Alyna, pushing away any thoughts of reprimanding Emma for her foolishness.
“You are with child,” Emma repeated bluntly, face beaming with pleasure.
“Nonsense, I carry no babe.” Alyna was firm in her denial. Impossible, she had only lain with Warin a few times.
“As you say, Lady Alyna.” Emma shrugged but a twinkle lingered in her eyes.
“Aye, it is as I say.” Alyna’s voice brooked no argument.
Throwing the cloak about her shoulders, she grabbed the basket and stalked out, muttering all the while. “Hmmph, with child, what folly, hmmph, Emma knows naught of what she speaks.”
As she walked through the bailey, she searched for Warin but his tall figure was nowhere to be seen. For that she was grateful. Anger against him still simmered hot within her and bitter words would surely spill forth if she spotted him.
She passed through the newly repaired gate and began the snowy trudge towards the village, soon reaching the shelter of the trees.
Cold air pricked the tips of her ears and she stopped to pull the hood of her cloak over her head. Putting the basket down, she paused to look about.
The sun sat low on the horizon and early morning gloom enveloped the forest. Normally she would find the frost tipped branches ethereal and pretty, but today she found them menacing, resembling gnarled fingers reaching out to grab her.
Disquiet shivered through her and she began to doubt the wisdom of her morning errand.
“Don’t be a silly goose,” she said aloud in an effort to bolster her courage, raising her hands to tug at her cowl.
Too late, she heard footsteps crunching in the snow behind her and before she could whirl about, someone yanked her hands above her head. A heavy hood dropped over her eyes and blinded, she struggled, kicking and flailing, upsetting the basket in the process.
Her unseen assailant easily overcame her and a rough rope tightened around her wrists, biting into the tender skin.
“Let me go!” She shrieked but the hood, stinking of fish and manure, muffled her voice and robbed her of breath.
A heavy blow knocked her senseless and her world turned black and silent.
Chapter Nineteen
Bennet joined Warin in the stable as he tended to Citadel. Ignoring Warin’s hostile look, he stood beside the horse and cleared his throat.
“Warin.” Bennet hesitated as if he considered the wisdom of what he was about to say then plunged ahead. “Alyna questions your love.”
“What do you know of love? I counted you my friend but you lust for my wife. I should draw my sword on you.” Pointedly, Warin kept his eyes on the beast before him. At the moment, he didn’t want company, least of all the man who had just kissed his wife.
“Alyna has eyes for no one but you. Aye, I admit I would welcome such a one as wife but she’s not of my station. I treat her with respect. She’s not forward and her actions are circumspect as befits her rank. She favors only you, if you would but care to see it.”
“To me she confesses naught.” Warin remained unconvinced.
“Do you know nothing of women? They await love’s declaration so as not to be thought bold.”
“She has my regard,” Warin snapped. “Not that it’s any affair of yours.” He continued to comb Citadel’s mane, freeing the tangles one by one. So tangled too was his soul and Alyna the comb. Didn’t she understand that?
“That may be what you think, my lord, but love is given freely, absolutely, with no expectation. You’ve suffered much but it is you who must save yourself, not Lady Alyna.”
Warin snorted. “You know nothing of what you speak.”
“We’ve not been comrades for long but adventures shared have surely bonded us.” Bennet’s tone was conciliatory and he lifted his hands.
“So?” Warin finally deigned to look Bennet full in the face. “That doesn’t give you the right to meddle.”
“Not as master and servant, but I can speak as one friend to another.”
Bennet’s earnest eyes jabbed Warin as surely as a pitchfork and he stepped away from Citadel and turned to regard the other man. “Well, speak then.”
“What you saw yesterday in the hall was not what it appeared. Aye, Lady Alyna did embrace me but it bestowed naught. She’s excited over the advent of Christmas, excited to be lady of the manor.”
Warin remained silent, gaze pinned to Bennet’s face.
Bennet scratched his beard then continued. “On our travels we spent many evenings in conversation. Whether you realized it or not, you revealed much of yourself to me. I know how much you ache, how much you question your right to live. But the Almighty has chosen a path for us and it’s not our place to question His wisdom.” He stopped to clear his throat. “You seek absolution much as a drowning man seeks a branch to grab but you must find it within yourself. Don’t blame Alyna for your own shortcomings.” Bennet’s voice was earnest, his eyes pleading. “And don’t place a burden on Lady Alyna that’s not hers to carry. She loves you. Don’t waste that love on senseless pride.” He reached over and patted Citadel’s rump. “I’ll take my leave, my lord, for I’ve left you much to consider.”
Not waiting for a reply, he turned on his heel and walked away, whistling and scuffling through the straw.
Warin watched as Bennet, shoulders back and spine straight, disappeared from sight before resting his head against Citadel’s withers.
A good man, he thought, sturdy and loyal. Mayhap Bennet had overstepped his boundaries with his speech but he did so from the goodness of his heart. He, Warin, was indeed fortunate to have such a one by his side. As fortunate as he was with Alyna.
Aye, he had placed an unfair burden on her but now, after Bennet’s speech, he grasped her importance to him. He couldn’t lose her now. If Bennet spoke true, the solution was simple. A declaration on his part would clear the way.
A sudden urge to find his wife consumed him and with nary a further thought to Citadel, he dropped the comb and went in search of her.
*****
“Alyna!” Warin stood in the doorway to the hall. “Alyna!” He called out again. Odd, her usual chair by the fire sat empty. He bound up the stairs to the solar, two steps at a time and flung open the door. It crashed against the wall and almost hit him as it rebounded
.
“Alyna?”
By the Virgin Mary, she was not here either. He raced back down the stairs, jumping the last five steps in one leap, and pounded through the great hall into the kitchen.
Emma turned wide eyes on him at his sudden entrance but the other two, Hilda and Beatrice, kept their gazes lowered. Only the blush tinting both of their noses showed their awareness of him.
“Emma, where is she, where is Lady Alyna,” he demanded, barely restraining himself from grabbing the wench by the shoulders and shaking the information out of her.
“Gone to visit Muriel’s ma, my lord.” Emma quickly bobbed a curtsy. “She left early this morning.”
“She went alone? No one went with her?”
“Aye, she’s alone because she didn’t want to trouble anyone.”
Anxiety nibbled at Warin. “Shouldn’t she be back by now?”
“She enjoys the woman’s company,” Emma offered. “Time must have passed her by.”
“The next time, she is not to go out unaccompanied. These are not harmless times for a woman alone.” He glowered at Emma.
“It’s not my place to instruct my lady on what to do,” Emma replied, tears pooling in her eyes. “The road is safe, Muriel travels it every day.” She wiped first one eye, then the other, with the corner of her grubby apron.
“Muriel is a servant and not my wife.” Warin’s voice cut like a rapier, surprising Hilda and Beatrice from their tasks. They turned, gape mouthed, to look at him.
Emma sank to her knees and clasped her hands to her bosom. “As you say, my lord.” Her bottom lip trembled. “I beg you, pardon my heedless words. The village isn’t far. I’ll fetch her if you like.”
“Nay,” he barked. “Tend to your duties here.” He spun on his heel and strode from the kitchen.
Three astonished sets of eyes followed him out then gazed upon each other in amazement.
“Truly, he is smitten with my lady,” Emma murmured.
Hilda and Beatrice nodded in agreement, looking once more at the empty doorway, then back to each other. “Truly he is smitten,” they echoed in unison.
*****
Warin’s anxiety bloomed into panic, a panic that pressed against his chest and weakened his knees. He shook it off. He had no time to waste. He must find Alyna, and find her soon. The day grew late and he didn’t want her outside the safety of the keep for the night.
“Bennet! Gerard!” Warin bellowed from the entrance landing. “Saddle your horses, we must find Lady Alyna.” Sword clattering, he hurried down the stairs to the bailey. Gerard and Bennet dropped their practice rods and fell in behind him, strapping on their swords as they ran.
“Aye, my lord.”
“Aye, to the stables.”
Within minutes, three horses were saddled and the men thundered off, Citadel in the lead as if sensing danger stalked his mistress.
They reached the forest and with creeping dread, Warin spied the upended basket in the snow beside the road. He held up his hand to halt the others. His lady had obviously struggled valiantly, for her footprints mingled with that of her assailants. But there was another, more chilling sign that it had been an unfriendly encounter.
Blood.
His heart froze.
Bloodstains darkened the snow and he had no way of knowing if the blood belonged to Alyna or one of her attackers. The panic he had shaken off before now threatened to crush him.
Closing his eyes, he took in deep draughts of air to fight the memories. Odd, how the blood-stained snow resembled blood-stained sand.
The world about him receded and his own private hell rose in its place, a hell peopled by hate-fuelled foes and fallen comrades, bodies twisted in pain, faces contorted in agony and horror. And over all, the hot, merciless Palestinian sun baking the earth below until all beneath it shriveled away to naught.
Remembered too, twisted, blackened bodies beneath England’s leaden skies – his mother yet shielding his brother in her arms, his father close by, arm upraised as if holding a sword even in death.
Ashes to ashes and dust to dust.
Who? Who could have taken her? And in an instant he knew. Philippa and Baldric. His decision to let them go in favor of repairing the keep had come back to haunt him.
His stomach churned and he continued to gasp, welcoming the chill air creeping into his lungs, fighting the nausea, quelling the bile rising in his throat.
Slowly, his blind panic turned into steely resolve. He inhaled deeply a few more times. Aye, he would find her, and he would find her safe.
“I won’t let you have her!” He bellowed his rage to the sky above.
The sounds of the forest around him came into focus, the slight soughing of the breeze rattling the branches, the chirps of the sparrows. Bennet’s voice came as if from a distance. “My lord Warin? Are you well?”
“Aye, I am well” he nodded. “But not Lady Alyna.”
He pointed first to the trampled ground and then to the trail leading deeper into the trees. “See, the fight there and there, the escape. Come, the path is clear in the snow.” He nudged Citadel onto the snow-trampled trail.
“Worry eats at you like a gnawing rat.” Bennet pulled up alongside Warin. “We’ll find her. If her attackers had wanted her dead, we would find her cold body and not the warm trail we follow now.”
“Aye.” Warin inclined his head. Bennet offered him hope that she yet lived and he grasped it gratefully. “And when we find them, they’ll rue the day they chose to take what belongs to Warin de Taillur.” His grip tightened on his sword hilt.
“She has proven to be courageous and resilient in the face of danger.” Gerard’s voice floated from behind. “Lady Alyna will fight with every ounce of her being.”
“Then we must ensure the battle is fair and that she doesn’t fight alone.” Warin leaned forward and urged Citadel to a faster pace. “We waste time talking.”
The trail of footprints soon disappeared into a clump of shrubs. Still in the lead, Warin pushed his way through and into a deserted camp. The hidden clearing easily held the three of them, for bushes and branches had been cut away. A fire smoldered, evidence that some time had been spent here waiting.
“Look, here were many horses.” He sat back in his saddle, resting his hands on the pommel while he searched the ground. “What do you think, Bennet, Gerard, seven or eight?”
“At least eight, my lord,” Bennet replied after much deliberation. He looked about. “This camp is well established. I would guess the Lady Alyna wasn’t taken on an idle whim.”
“The trail splits into three, our foe is cunning,” Gerard interjected. “Which path do we follow?”
Warin looked about, twisting first one way in his saddle, then the other. The kidnappers were clever, knowing their tracks could be followed in the snow.
Which way to go? One path appeared to head back to the road, another towards the village, and the third deeper into the woods. To choose one over another was a game of chance. Of course, they were three and could split up, but valuable time would be wasted in retracing steps and finding the other two in the event one stumbled upon Alyna and her captors.
He cast his gaze about again, slowly, scrutinizing each path taken. A clue must lie somewhere.
“There.” Bennet pointed to a scrap of cloth caught on a branch.
Warin guided Citadel close enough to grab it. He recognized the fabric immediately. “Alyna’s cloak.”
“The Lord smiles on us,” Bennet said, pleased. “We follow you, Warin. Go.”
Deeper into the forest they rode, sometimes trotting, other times walking, their progress impeded by thick woods. It was impossible to guess how far they had traveled and he had no idea where they were going for he hadn’t been at Caperun Keep long enough to become familiar with the surrounding lands.
Once, they lost the trail as it crossed a creek but they discovered it a little ways upstream, more time wasted that chafed Warin sorely. Every delay gave time for the attackers to
gain more distance.
Night fell and with great reluctance Warin called a halt.
“We have no choice. We must stop for the night.” Silently cursing the new moon that shrouded all in darkness, he slid off Citadel.
“Aye.” Bennet and Gerard nodded their assent as they slid off their mounts.
“A fire would be welcome.” Bennet shivered and slapped his arms about himself.
Warin was about to protest then thought better of it. The cold night promised to be long. “Only a small one,” he warned. “It wouldn’t be wise to attract our enemies.”
“A small fire it is, then,” Bennet agreed.
Gerard collected branches to sleep on while Bennet busied himself with the fire and soon the threesome sat quite comfortably.
“Ah,” Gerard said longingly, “that we had food to fill our bellies. The day has been long.”
“Is food the only thing you ever think about,” Bennet joked.
“There is food aplenty in your dreams.” Warin drew his cloak close and leaned back into the branches. “I suggest you search for it there.”
But food didn’t enter Warin’s dreams that night, rather tawny tresses and sparkling blue green eyes filled his dreams.
Where was she? Was she unharmed? Anguish over her fate gnawed his guts. He couldn’t lose her now, not when he finally understood what she meant to him. And that was – he loved her.
The realization filled him with peace.
He loved her, heart, body and soul. He wanted her by his side always, wanted her smile to warm him, wanted her gentle ways to wash over him.
He would save her, he vowed. He would save her. He had to – his very destiny depended on it.
*****
Snow fell during the night. When Alyna awoke, it weighted down her cloak. She was stiff and cold, colder than she had ever been before in her life. Her captors had freed her hands when they had stopped but they had instead bound her feet so she couldn’t run away during the night. At this moment, her feet were so numb she wasn’t even certain she still had them.
A Knight for Love Page 20