by C. C. Wiley
“Ah,” he breathed against her flesh. “Your lack of belief in my skill pains me to the quick. I’ll have you know ’tis been said that I have a gift handed down from God.”
Terrwyn shivered as his fingers moved over her body. A waterfall of sensation filled every nerve ending. Searching to satisfy a need she never knew she hungered for, she reached out and pulled him closer. “I won’t argue you have a gift, but I do not think it is the kind that Sir William will want to examine too close.”
“Trust me,” he whispered over the crest of her breast.
Aching to gain access, James nuzzled the neckline of her jerkin. Entranced with the feel of her fingers as she slid them along the band of his leggings, he could not immediately answer her question. Focused on breaching her portal, he did not hear the soft rustle of tent flap. Nor did he hear the clump of feet behind him.
“I brought this for the archer.” Simon held out Terrwyn’s bow and quiver. “If all goes well, he’ll pin you back with an arrow or two.”
James slowly extracted Terrwyn’s arms from around his waist, moving effortlessly until she was ensconced behind his back. “I’ll take it.”
Simon ignored his hand and set the weapons down. He drew a dagger from its scabbard. “You’ll find ’tis best that you unhand the archer.”
“I fear you have it wrong, ’tis not an archer but my squire I embrace.” He turned to Terrwyn and shook his head with a warning. “Nay, squire, say not a word.”
With ire flushing his face, Simon moved forward. “When my brother hears how you handle the king’s archers and your intimate servants, he will have a say against the matter.”
James paused. The affable smile slid into place, belying the coldness in his tone and the edge in his eyes. “Oh, ’tis certain Sir William will not be pleased, but why bother him with trivial matters when he already has so much on his plate? What say you?” He clapped a hand on Simon’s forearm. “Shall we leave sleeping dogs to lie where they may?”
His frown deepening, Simon shook free. Grasping a frightened Terrwyn from behind James’s back, he pressed on. “Sir William requests your presence.” Apparently feeling the need to enforce this request, he pointed the tip of his blade at James’s chest. “Now!”
James slowly extricated himself from Terrwyn and bowed stiffly. “Squire, it appears our large friend has lost patience with us.” Mindful to keep his movements slow, he motioned toward the corner of the tent. “Hand me that journal and oilcloth packet lying on the bench.”
Terrwyn scurried over to do James’s bidding and held out the packet.
Noting the worry that marked her eyes, James slid his thumb over the ridge along her jawline. “Not to fear. I’ll return before you notice I’m gone.”
“I wouldn’t waste your worries on him, Archer,” Simon warned. “Nor would I trust him with my life. Once England’s good soldiers do their duty, he’ll spill what he knows. Like he was a stuck boar.”
“Do not fret, little one. William has no need to cause me harm.” James winked at Simon. “Nor, despite what your champion believes, will I reveal you to save my hide.”
A rosy hue darkened Simon’s high cheekbones as he shook his head. “Think, Archer, if he means you no ill will, then why make you his squire? You were holding your own. I would have made sure of it.” He poked James with the tip of his blade, directing him out of the tent. “And if he’s a traitor to the king, you won’t want your name attached to his.”
Terrwyn’s eyes narrowed. Glancing at Simon, she stepped cautiously around the tip of his blade. She reached out, flipped back the oilcloth and revealed bits of charcoal. Reverently, she took the journal from his hands and opened it. Her breath caught and she paled. Pulling out the second and third sheet, she held them so that Simon could see the shape of bluebells and a field of wildflowers.
Her hands trembled as she folded everything back up. Her dark lashes flicked rapidly over her nut-brown eyes. Drawn to the pulse beating along the smooth column of her neck, James nearly forgot to take the drawings from her hand.
Terrwyn turned to Simon and, giving him a generous smile, she nodded toward James. “I believe I’ll bide my time here for a while longer.”
Simon shifted his attention from Terrwyn. His face reddening, he took his time as he struggled with the rest of his message. “’Fraid that won’t do. You’re to come along too.”
“Me?” Terrwyn exclaimed.
James quietly slid the oilcloth packet inside the fold of his tunic. He turned with a pleasant smile and shook his head. “I’m certain Simon misheard. Sir William has no pressing reason to see you in his chambers.”
Terrwyn glanced up to read the truth on Simon’s face. “What has taken place to put me in William’s notice?” she asked softly.
“He heard things. About the fight.”
Terrwyn’s eyes widened with clarity. “You vowed you were my champion, you would not reveal me.”
“Aye, I am still. And I have not.”
James’s palm slammed against Simon’s chest. “Yet you deliver her to your brother when the least wind blows.”
Simon stepped back, righting his balance before he fell. “Nay!” He turned to grab Terrwyn, catching only air as she moved lithely out of his reach. He held his hand still, fingers spread in supplication. “’Tis not what it looks.”
She shook her head in dismay. “It does not look well, though, does it?”
James pressed forward. “We’ll tell your brother I was overtaken, the soldier ran off before I could apply punishment. That his hide is nowhere to be found.”
Although Simon outweighed James, he shrank from the deception. “It won’t do. William heard of the competition in the forest.”
“The famed archer?” James turned to Terrwyn. “You?”
Terrwyn smiled helplessly as Simon explained the events. She cast a furtive glance at James and caught his pointed glare.
“You knew she was a maiden? Did the dysentery touch your brain as well as your innards?”
“Leave him be, James. ’Twas an honest challenge. If not for Edgar’s wounded pride, no one would have taken notice.”
“Aye, perhaps. But now William has.” James stroked his knuckle down Terrwyn’s cheek. “Well, then, if he asks, I will say I found you lacking and sent you away.”
Simon returned his blade into the scabbard and folded his arms. “Nay. William would wonder why you would jeopardize his relationship with the king.”
“I jeopardize no one.”
“Aye. Nevertheless, word of our archer will reach King Henry and he will await his delivery. Should the archer disappear—”
“—the king will exact payment on all our heads,” James finished.
“And retaliation against my village would be deadly.” Resolved in her decision, Terrwyn smoothed the leather tunic over her hips. “There is no choice but to play out this role I have begun.”
James leaned over, smoothing the hair from her face. He carefully tucked the strands behind her ear. “And when Sir William discovers that you are a woman?”
She smiled up into James’s worried eyes and could not help thinking, if only fleetingly, that they were the exact shade of the sky right after a storm. Finding comfort in his gaze, she found her courage. “Then he will accept me as I am, or our deception is over.”
“And there will be hell to pay for all of us,” Simon said.
“’Tis sorry, that I am, Simon, for making trouble between you and your brother.”
Simon shrugged good-naturedly. “He will forgive me in time.”
“Let us pray it will not come to that,” James said. “If we play our roles well, we will find a way to remove Terrwyn from this mess and keep both the king and your brother content.”
Terrwyn grabbed James’s hand, tugging as she spoke. “Do you have something in mind?”
James winked up at Simon.
The big man grunted his own response. “Would say your agreement to not stand so close to one another might be the
first order of the day.”
“Of course,” Terrwyn muttered hotly under her breath. “Makes perfect sense.”
Simon moved to duck under the flap, sticking his head through the opening before he left. “Well, Archer, you had best equip yourself well. ’Tis certain my brother grows restless.” He added as if an afterthought, “Sir James, whatever games you play, do no harm to king or country, for it would be my pleasure to run you through.”
James smiled and nodded. “Aye, just you remember to honor your own vows.”
Terrwyn held her palm up. “Stop, there is no need. I won’t come between brothers. When you feel you cannot hide my secret any longer and must reveal me, know that I will release you from your vow.”
Simon’s face flushed red. “I pray it does not come to that.”
“So do I,” Terrwyn said.
James wrapped her fingers around his and pressed his lips to the inside of her wrist. “We dare not tarry.” He plied another kiss to the back of her hand and drew her near. “Frightened?”
Biting her lip, she gently drew her hand away. “Terrified.”
James kissed the corner of her mouth. “Good.”
Chapter Thirteen
“You’re to come with me.” Thin of body and stern of face, the young soldier standing at the tent entrance motioned for James and Terrwyn to follow.
James turned to Terrwyn and, giving her a steady smile, pulled the small blade from her belt. “I think we had best put this away.”
“But I’ve already agreed to leave my bow behind.”
“A lowly squire cannot come armed to the hilt. ’Twould certainly raise Sir William’s brow.”
Terrwyn glanced at the soldier. His impatience became evident in the increase of his frown.
“Come, squire,” James said loudly. “I have the surprising desire to have my back scrubbed yet this eve. Let us meet with Sir William and be done with it.”
They stepped out of the tent and were immediately flanked by guards. Terrwyn stood close behind James, noting the slight pause in his step. It took everything in her power to keep from striking out when pikestaffs halted their pace. Her feet danced over the dust as she scrambled to keep from running into James.
“Get that damned thing out of my face,” he said.
“You will stay with us.” The guard grabbed the back of Terrwyn’s neck, causing her to yelp in surprise.
“Hands off,” James barked, breaking the soldier’s grasp. He drew Terrwyn close, and smoothed the jerkin over her shoulder. The tension in his body belied his pleasant tone as he added, “Though I admire your enthusiasm, soldier, I am under King Henry’s protection. I advise you to use wisdom before I deliver my report to my protector.”
Two bright spots rose over the whey-faced lad. “Orders is orders. Commander says to bring you and bring you now.”
“Well enough, soldier. But you will do so with respect for rank.” James walked forward, purposefully ignoring the men flanking his sides.
Terrwyn tucked her chin into the folds of her tunic and sat quietly in the corner of the tent. Feeling the absence of her bow and quiver, she cursed the need to leave them behind. Unarmed, she felt as helpless as a babe in swaddling. Should her situation deteriorate, she would be forced to rely on the shiftless Englishman. As far as she was concerned, James may have warmed her heart a time or two, but an Englishman he remained.
Her stomach clenched. The shadows of the two soldiers guarding their meeting could be seen through the thick canvas material.
Ducking her head as if to inspect crusted dirt on her leggings, she looked up through her lashes at the men seated at the small camp table. James and Sir William had taken great pains to angle their chairs so that neither back was to the opening in the tent, nor pressed against the outer wall. James had slyly worked his seat so that he might catch her attention now and then.
With the slightest hint of a smile, James lightened the grave expression on his face before turning to William. “You’ll excuse me if I feel a trifle irritated with your treatment at my expense.” He motioned toward the corner with the flip of his hand. “As you have already made mention of the presence of my newly acquired squire, I find it necessary to beg your forgiveness and a little latitude in normalcy.”
“I did not ask to see a squire. I ordered you to bring the archer.”
“But I haven’t a notion where the famed archer has hidden himself. ’Tis certain you can see that this boy is smaller than a turd. He cannot possibly be the archer. No muscle at all.”
William swiveled to eye Terrwyn from head to toe. His impatience soured his expression, heating his eyes to dark coals, drawing his mouth into a thin, firm line. “I’ve heard from Simon that you’ve meted out the boy’s punishment already.” Having assured himself the contentious lad had all his limbs intact, William returned his gaze back to James. “In a rush to punish, aren’t you?”
“Is this truly what this inconvenience is about? Your concern for the boy? Perhaps you want him for your own? But I warn you, ’tis like being saddled with a mongrel puppy. ’Fraid I cannot let the wretch out of my sight until ’tis fit for those of us of refined taste.” James sighed deeply, pausing to let the effects dig into William’s tight control. “One never knows when the Welsh puppy will relieve itself.”
Terrwyn’s fury bubbled. If not for the slight wink, that infinitesimal movement of the corner of his dark lashes, she might have launched herself at his throat.
“I care not of your damnable puppy!” William’s shoulders flexed irritably. “While you find it necessary to cast your attention to the infractions you believe your squire has committed, an archer of great import cannot be found! What will you report to King Henry when he asks the whereabouts of the famed archer?” William’s control began to slip and his voice rose in agitation. “Shall you entertain him with your drawings of flora and fauna as we mount an attack on France?”
“I should say not.” Amusement laced his next words. “Imagine Henry standing up in his stirrups, giving one of his rousing speeches to the men, and I shove a piece of vellum under his nose. I fear ’tis certain he’d lose sight of the details I worked so hard to give him.”
William rose and braced his palms on the narrow table. “What spell have you cast on our king for him to think you bring more than embarrassment to his throne?”
The silence that followed crackled with tension.
James lifted a single brow in disdain. “You’d do well to remember my conversations with the king are of little concern to you. My orders come from Henry. I move as his schedule demands. Not yours.” He slowly released his hold on the hilt of his sword. He leaned forward and motioned the commander toward the abandoned chair. Icy steel coated his voice. “Sit, William. Anger solves nothing. We will talk only of things which I have been granted ease by our king.”
Terrwyn noticed the tension, though still present, became less pronounced in William’s body. He listened with rapt attention to the words James spoke so softly. Only after William acquiesced to a bargain did James bring out his drawings. One by one the drawings were exposed until the final sheet of vellum lay upon the table.
William’s hand trembled as he ran it through his blond hair. “Wha—where… How did you come by this image of the woman?”
“Tavern meeting.”
“The people with her?”
“There are some who cannot live between Welsh and English worlds. Some accept change and others choose to fight. I believe this one simply chose to run away.”
Tempted to forget James’s warning, Terrwyn shifted her seat, cursing her inability to hear and understand all of their discussion.
William turned abruptly and tossed her a key. “You there, boy, fetch us the wine from the trunk.”
Pulling down the brim of her cap, Terrwyn nodded obediently and walked to where he pointed. The lock snicked open with ease but when she attempted to lift the trunk’s lid she found it to be extremely heavy. It took her three tries to gain access to
the contents.
“God’s bones,” Sir William said. “The brat is weak as a kitten. You can keep him without argument from me.”
Terrwyn swallowed a curse and refused to listen to James’s response. She braced the lid to keep it from crashing down and turned her body to block the men’s view as she examined the trunk’s contents. The jug of wine nested among his possessions. A leather-bound journal lay atop a neatly folded woolen blanket. A small iron-studded box angled crookedly in the corner of the chest. Quietly nudging it aside, she spied iron arrowhead tips rolled in a strip of soft leather. Their willow shafts gleamed in the candlelight. Although tempted to touch the smooth wood, she realized she had stared at the contents for far too long.
Hurriedly pulling the wine from the chest, she slowly let the lid fall into place and slipped the lock over the latch. She cast a prayer to the heavens and hoped no one noticed she did not close the lock completely.
Grasping the jug of wine, she picked up two cups and set them on the table. Mindful to keep her face hidden, she moved so that whenever William moved, so did she. She felt James’s questioning glance slide over her, which she dutifully ignored.
After filling the cups, she placed them by their hands and set the jug in the center of the table. Waiting for permission to sit, she took a half step back and stood near James’s left elbow. She could not help noticing that when she drew too close to the drawings, his hands moved protectively over them. Her curiosity piqued, she set about devising a plan to look at those drawings more closely.
Sighing wistfully, William saluted James with his cup. “Looks like your puppy’s a quick study.”
James tilted his head. One eyebrow arched as he let his gaze move over Terrwyn’s flushed face. “So it seems. Though his wound is slight, it will not do to overtax him so soon.” He motioned to the corner stool. “You, boy, may take your seat until my say.”
As James began to gather up his leather pouch, William gripped his wrist and motioned toward the drawing. “Must you put it away already?”