by Holby Cindy
The second morning on the road, Salisbury realized that he’d forgotten some very important business, so he took time to write a letter and dispatched his squire, along with two men at arms to deliver it. Then he discovered that his horse had a loose shoe and insisted that they detour to the closest blacksmith. Since Salisbury was well acquainted with the lord who owned the keep where the blacksmith lived, they were invited to dinner. Salisbury enjoyed the meal so much that their host insisted they spend the night. Though Renauld was grateful for the bed to sleep in, he chafed at the delay.
On the morning of the third day he realized that they still had two days of travel to arrive at Aubregate. And that was if the weather cooperated. Fortunately for him, it seemed as if it would. Still, he was as impatient as Salisbury seemed reluctant.
Does he know something? Something about de Remy’s trip to Aubregate? Renauld watched from the back of his horse as Salisbury walked back to their host as if he’d forgotten to tell him something. If that were remotely possible. The two men had talked about everything under the sun the night before. Finally, Salisbury mounted his horse and greeted Renauld with a smile.
“Are you ready?”
Renauld resisted the urge to lop off Salisbury’s head with his sword. “I’ve been ready,” he ground out between his clenched teeth, “since daybreak.”
Salisbury looked around as if he just now realized the sun was shining. “Well, then. Let us be off.”
He knew something. Renauld could only hope that his men had taken care of their task. If they failed, they would suffer for it. But they knew better than to fail.
Chapter Ten
What language was that you spoke?” Rhys asked. They had ridden most of the morning in an uncomfortable silence, except for the tidbits of information she’d given him as they toured her lands. My lands now…but only with her approval.
Eliane looked at him in confusion. She rode by his side on a leggy mare that seemed more spirited than the usual lady’s palfrey. It suited his betrothed much more than the stout and sturdy mounts most women rode. She had no difficulty handling the mare, even with Yorath snorting at her side. He commiserated with his stallion, which tossed its head and chafed at the bit. It seemed Rhys’s only thought since coming across Eliane in the wood was to bed her.
“In the stables,” Rhys added when she did not answer.
She shrugged. “I know not its name, only that it is the ancient language of my mother’s people. I learned it as a child just as I learned our common tongue.”
Common…there was nothing common about her. She rode astride while wearing a sensible brown skirt over her leggings. The leather tunic he’d first seen her in was beneath her fox-lined cloak of deep green. The hood was thrown back so she could enjoy the warmth of the day. She wore her fiery hair braided and wrapped about her head like a crown, which left her ears exposed. He studied them again and felt the strangest desire to trace the edges of them. He should have done it the day before when she was more compliant. Now her bow and quiver hung from her saddle along with a bag full of cakes, which she passed out to the children they’d seen along the way. He had no doubt in his mind that beneath the cloak she also wore the blade he’d seen upon her hip in the forest.
The people know who she is and what she is…whatever that may be. The news of the coming marriage had spread quickly. As they toured the lands, he was greeted with deference and curiosity by the families that poured out of the fields and thatched cottages to greet them. She feels safe here…He’d noticed ears like hers on some of the people they’d met. They were a part of the land, or perhaps the forest. The forest seemed to be the source of all the mystery. A forbidden place with warrior women who had pointy ears. Who would have thought such a place existed?
They were accompanied by Lord Edward’s steward, a man named Hubert, who formally invited all to the wedding celebration the day after tomorrow. Mathias and four men-at-arms from Aubregate also rode with them. His own men-at-arms should be at Myrddin by now. He’d seen no need to pay for their upkeep at court when he would not be there.
The day was sunny and unseasonably warm compared to the ones just past. The dog that was her constant companion loped beside them as they rode. The fields, while fallow beneath the snow, seemed well tended. There was no sign of disease or starvation among the vassals they had seen this morn. It was apparent that Eliane was well liked, and she called each one by name and thanked them when they asked after her father.
Could he call each one of his vassals by name? He knew he could not. He relied on his steward to tell him whom he was dealing with when he rode his lands. Could he say that his vassals received him as the people of Aubregate received Eliane? That he could not answer. He knew they respected him, because he had never treated them unfairly, but the subjects of Aubregate seemed to love their lady.
Rhys frowned. Love was not real, but respect was. The people here would learn to respect him and trust him, just as the people of Myrddin did. They would find him a just and fair lord. He would not fail Edward in that promise.
“If it pleases milord, we will have our repast at the mill,” she said as they continued on. “Matilde is to have it awaiting us. From there we can go down to the village by the sea and come back by way of the town.” Her tone was as formal as it had been the day before when she’d found him in the stable and inquired about his wardrobe.
“The prospect of a meal pleases me,” Rhys said. “As does your showing me the land, for you know the way far better than I.” He was sincere in his compliment. He’d recognized her intelligence during the course of the morning. And she seemed without guile or malice. He found her company most refreshing after the machinations of Marcella and the pretended innocence of Jane. He found Eliane different from any other woman he’d ever known.
She looked sideways at him from beneath veiled lashes, her eyes glittering like emeralds in the sunlight. It suddenly occurred to him that he had no bridal gift for her. There were emeralds among the jewels at Mryddin. Emeralds would suit her. Emeralds and nothing else. He would gladly see her naked upon his bed wearing nothing but emeralds.
“What does Yorath mean?” Once again he was taken by the music in her voice.
“ ’Tis Welsh.” He stroked Yorath’s proudly arched neck as the stallion pranced beneath him. “The translation would be ‘handsome lord.’”
She smiled slightly and nodded. “It fits him.” Perfect teeth caught her lower lip as she once more quickly glanced his way. “How is it you know the language?”
“It is the ancient language of my mother’s people.” He found that he enjoyed turning her words upon her as if it were a game. Could it be that she had not heard the tale of his parents? He watched her as she rode, deep in thought. Then she turned to him, the knowledge of his history apparent in the widening of her eyes.
“It seems that not even isolated Aubregate has escaped the tales of my family’s woes.” He shrugged as if it were nothing.
“Our halls are often visited by troubadours,” she admitted. “Aubregate’s larder and appetite for entertainment on a cold winter’s night are equally large.”
“A good story for a hot meal and a dry bed. The troubadours get the best of that exchange.”
“It must have been hard for you.” Her emerald eyes were upon him now, searching his face for a weakness he dared not show.
“No harder than for any other child who is orphaned,” he said. “The country is full of them. Some fare better than others. There was nothing lacking in my upbringing.” Nothing that he would admit.
She had no response and finally turned away from her perusal of his face to watch the road. The dog bounded ahead and took off through a field, churning through the snow toward the woods in the distance.
“Llyr!” she called out. “Come.”
“Did you not know that his name is Welsh also?” he asked when he heard her call the beast’s name.
“Nay, I did not.” The dog came back to the road and rejoined th
em. “It just seemed to fit him.”
“It means the sea,” Rhys said.
She laughed. The sound was joyous and bubbling. “We found him in the sea,” she explained. “My father pulled him forth when he saw him trying to swim to shore. He was just a pup then, small enough for me to carry in my arms. We never knew whence he came.”
The sky was as blue as he’d ever seen. The fresh air was welcome against his face after weeks of being cooped up at court. The men at arms and Edward’s steward seemed in high spirits from the sound of their voices. Mathias occasionally joined into their conversation as he soaked up whatever bits and pieces of knowledge that came his way. The boy was intelligent enough to ask about something he did not understand.
Rhys felt an easing in his shoulders as if a great weight had been lifted. The woman at his side was comely and agreeable, intelligent and strong. Mayhap this marriage would have the benefits that Peter spoke of. Beyond the obvious ones. He’d awakened this morning in the same state as the morning before and knew that it would be two more days before he could expect any relief. He found himself most anxious for the days to pass.
The road curved toward a stand of trees and a small stream. The terrain was sloped here, the start of its downward journey to the sea. A flock of sheep filled the road before them, their woolly fleeces dingy against the white of the snow. Llyr pricked his ears as they heard a dog barking.
“Go,” she said as the dog looked at her expectantly. He took off with a bound. “He is quite enamored with the shepherd’s dog,” she explained, then suddenly turned away as her cheeks turned a fiery red.
Rhys grinned at her embarrassment. It was obvious she knew what was expected of her two nights hence. Madwyn must have instructed her on what was to come. There was no doubt in his mind that she was a virgin. He had never lain with one and found the prospect added to his anticipation. So much so that he had to shift himself in the saddle, which set Yorath off again. The mare tossed her head and nipped at the stud. The stallion rose on his hind legs and Rhys settled him with a sharp command. Yorath snorted his impatience but settled back into a walk with a shake of his head.
“It seems that Llyr is not the only one enamored,” he said.
Eliane turned away again. He saw the flush creep up the graceful curve of her neck and over her ears. Rhys grinned wolfishly at the thought of kissing those ears. Of the enjoyment to be had by running his tongue over the exquisite peaks…and other peaks that were hidden beneath her clothes. A sudden realization made him laugh out loud as he shook his head.
“Something amuses you, milord?” Her look this time was more direct, as if she were surprised at his sudden outburst.
“Now I know why I have never seen Han without his cap. Even in the heat of summer.” He was pleased to see that she immediately understood what he spoke of. Eliane smiled mischievously and he felt the pull of her attraction deep in his groin. He would be a lusting beast by the wedding night. If he could last that long without cornering her in some dark corner of the keep.
“People are often suspicious of what they do not understand,” she said. “Han has served my father well for many years.”
“And he has not aged a bit in the time I’ve known him,” Rhys replied, suddenly curious. He’d been so caught up in the surprise of his coming marriage and the prospect of his bride that he’d forgotten another part of the bargain. What was the secret of the forest? “You have shown me the fields and the flocks. You have spoken of the mill, the fisherfolk, and the town. When will we see the forest?”
Gone was his compliant companion. The warrior woman from the forest was once more before him. “When I deem you ready,” she said. With an imperceptible touch of her heels, her mare sprang forward and she galloped ahead, leaving him wondering at the sudden change and wanting her all the more for it.
“I hope there are some willing women in the town,” he ground out from between clenched teeth as he shifted uncomfortably in the saddle.
“Milord?” Mathias had ridden up beside him as her men-at-arms rushed to join their lady.
“See to milady,” Rhys barked. The last thing he needed was for Mathias to recognize his condition. The boy heeled his horse and took off to join the men-at-arms. Rhys heard the steward chuckling behind him. The man missed nothing. He would have a good story to report to Edward when they returned.
Edward will rest content, knowing I am most anxious to take his daughter as a bride. He could put up with a moment’s discomfort if it would give the man some peace. He would have his own peace soon enough, along with another chance to discover her secrets when they had their repast. He saw the mill in the distance, its wheel turning as the stream made its way down the hill.
The sound of a yelp, then a shout, brought Rhys to attention. The sound of steel brought his sword out and he pressed his knees into Yorath’s sides. The horse took off at a run, his mighty hooves churning up the mud from the melting snow. Rhys did not see the snow, or the mud. All he saw was the red haze of anger. His bride was under attack.
Who would dare? Since her mother’s death, there had not been an attack this far inside Aubregate. There had been skirmishes on its borders, raiders after sheep and cows, or those who thought to find the rumored treasure in the forest, most of them from Renauld’s lands. In all Eliane’s memory, there had never been such a brazen attack. Thoughts of her own safety were lost in the anger that bubbled up inside Eliane. Who would dare raise an attack against us? She pulled out her short sword as the man-at-arms who rode beside her fell with an arrow sticking from his chest. She heard the clash of steel and heard Llyr’s growl as he leapt from the ground and knocked an attacker off his horse.
“Llyr!” He went for the man’s throat, but his victim was able to deflect him by dropping his sword and wrapping his hands around Llyr’s neck. Eliane tried to urge Aletha forward but suddenly found Mathias blocking her way.
“I must get to Llyr!”
“Milady, we must be away!” Mathias cried out as he ducked beneath an arrow. The remaining three men-at-arms fought valiantly but were outnumbered three to one. Did the attackers seek to rob them? The steward, with his bag of Aubregate gold, was well behind, with Rhys. She suddenly realized that she should not have left his company.
The battle was vicious. Horses screamed and lashed out as the fighters hacked at each other with their swords. They bumped into each other and a sudden kick knocked Llyr away from his victim. He yelped and the man he’d taken down grabbed his sword from the ground as he rolled from beneath the horse’s dangerous hooves.
His intent was to kill Llyr. Eliane knew it as surely as she knew these men did not belong here. If only Mathias would get out of her way.
“Llyr! Come!” Eliane twisted in the saddle, trying to spot him, then saw another man wearing the green and gold of Aubregate go down. There was more at risk here than Llyr. As dear as he was to her, he wasn’t a man, and men were dying. Who was attacking and why?
“Do not harm her!” someone shouted. She did not recognize the voice. Four men broke off from the battle with the remaining men-at-arms and moved on her and Mathias.
“Go!” Mathias drew his sword. He was just a boy. What did he expect to do? He wore no armor. He had no shield. She would not leave him here to fight four men on his own. She reached out and grabbed his bridle, then kicked her heels into Aletha’s sides. The mare took off, eager to leave the noise and confusion. Eliane heard the sound of pursuit behind. They intended to capture her, but they had orders not to harm her. Mathias, however, was another story. She swung the flat of her sword down on Mathias’s horse’s hindquarters and raised her arm to defend them both.
She saw the dark form of a man and horse crash into the four riders who were breathing down their necks. Rhys! She heard his deep-throated war cry and heard the clash of steel. She felt the stream of blood that splattered across her back and Aletha’s hindquarters.
“Away, Mathias!” Rhys shouted. “Take milady away!”
“To th
e mill!” Eliane said. There would be men there. Crofters and laborers, townsfolk. All would come to their aid with whatever weapons they had. She was relieved to see Llyr running at her side as she bent over Aletha’s neck. She looked over her shoulder at Mathias. His face was as pale as death and splattered with blood. Was he wounded?
He has no shield…no armor…Rhys at least wore his sword and leather hauberk, but he was not prepared for battle. They were on Aubregate lands. They were supposed to be safe. This was to have been a day of celebration, not desperation.
The flock of sheep scattered before them as they pounded through. Eliane caught a glimpse of the shepherd, who seemed as shocked as she was that anyone would dare to venture an attack on Aubregate lands. Who? Why?
Eliane slowed Aletha. “We need to capture one of them.”
“Milady?” Mathias gasped beside her.
Eliane did not answer. She looked beyond Mathias. What she saw chilled her.
Rhys de Remy fought like a madman. He stood in the midst of three men, fighting them all at once. Bodies lay around the group, her men, the attackers, a horse; all were silent except for the grunts of the men and the clash of steel. Yorath stood off to the side, steady and waiting for his master’s command.
“I must stop him.” She turned Aletha to ride back to the battle.
Mathias merely looked at her. His blue eyes were wide in his pale face. He placed his hand on his cheek and looked at it in horror when it came back streaked with blood.
Eliane grabbed his arm. “It’s not yours.” She tilted her head toward the battle. “We must help him.”
Mathias swallowed hard. “Yes, milady.”
“We must save one for questioning.” What that questioning would entail she did not want to know. Was Rhys capable of torture? One look at him fighting assured her that he was.
Mathias swung his sword and they rode back to the battle with Llyr once more bounding by her side.