Mercenaries and Maidens: A Medieval Romance bundle

by Kathryn Le Veque

  She had to help them.

  Josephine knew how to fight. She wasn’t a weak female, by any means. Quickly, she looked around for a weapon and her gaze came to rest on a small log on the floor of the forest, right at her feet. It had broken branches at the top of it, like spikes, and she picked it up without hesitation. Wielding it with two hands, she charged back into the clearing. She was going to kill those slimy sons-of-whores for laying a hand on her and then she was going to find that little bitch and retrieve her mother’s necklace.

  There was vengeance in her heart this day.

  As Josephine entered the clearing with the wood held high, she never gave a second thought to her own well-being. All she could think of was Andrew, Sully, and Thane, and the fight they were facing because of her.

  Quickly, she engaged one man and one woman, people who charged at her. But she faked them both out, turning one way but swinging another, just as Sully had taught her. She brought the log down on the man’s skull, quickly disabling him, while she used the same motion to slam the woman in the face. As the woman ran off screaming, Josephine began swinging her club in a frenzy.

  It was a nasty fight from the beginning, unfortunate because neither Andrew nor Sully realized Josephine had entered the fray. In fact, Andrew had his own problems at the moment; a screeching woman hung on his neck as he traded blows with a big, hairy man. The man, due to Andrew’s human cargo, was able to land a good blow to Andrew’s ribs, but as he closed in for a more devastating blow, Andrew turned around and thrust the woman on him as he pried her arms from his neck.

  Kicking and yelling, the two went down in a pile and Andrew moved on. He was turning to see what had become of Sully and Thane when a man jumped out at him, but Andrew threw a punch that sent the man to the ground. As he pushed his way through the writhing crowd, he was growing amused. The gypsies, for some reason, were fighting each other more than they were fighting the enemy. Apparently, the excitement of a fight was all they needed.

  It was bedlam.

  But his humor vanished when he caught sight of a purple dress. Josephine was swinging her log at men’s heads, pounding those who came too close to her, and Andrew felt a surge of panic at the sight. God’s Bones, she was in the middle of this fray! But even as he began pushing people out of the way on his quest to get to her, he came to realize that this was no ordinary woman in a fight. He knew she’d wielded a sword for Torridon but that didn’t have an impact on him until this moment.

  She was fearless in her fight. He could see that in an instant. Her bravery was beyond compare. What was it he’d told her? That she no longer had to protect her fortress? He could see now that it had been a mistake for him to say that. Clearly, she was at home in a fight.

  His respect, and his attraction, grew.

  Oblivious to the fact that Andrew had her in his sights, Josephine was beating the brains out of a man until someone grabbed her club. Furious, and frightened, she looked up to see that Andrew had a hold of it. He was fixed on her, but before he could say a word, two men rushing at him from the crowd.

  Josephine saw them coming.

  “Andrew!” she cried. “Behind you!”

  Instinctively, Andrew’s fists balled up and he swung to his right, catching one man in the stomach as the other man managed to hook an arm around Andrew’s neck and pull him to the ground. While the first man lay gasping in the dirt, Andrew wrestled with the other man, trying to dislodge him.

  The gypsy was furiously throwing his fists about and Andrew was doing no more than fending him off, trying not to get hit in the face. Weary of grappling with the man, Andrew brought up a knee and caught the man in the crotch. With a scream, the man rolled off.

  Staggering to his feet, Andrew went to Josephine, who still stood grasping the log with white knuckles. He grabbed her firmly by the upper arms.

  “What are you doing here?” he demanded. “You were to stay out of sight!”

  “I came to help!” she said breathlessly. “You three were grossly outnumbered!”

  Andrew caught movement in the forest and looked up. A look of satisfaction crossed his face.

  “Not anymore,” he said flatly. “Help has arrived.”

  Josephine turned around, seeing her men spilling out through the trees towards them. She let out a sigh of relief and turned back to Andrew, but several feet to her right, she could see Sully pounding the hell out of the burly gypsy. The man had sense enough to roll away from Sully’s merciless fists but when he came around again, he was grasping a wicked-looking dagger.

  “Nay!” she breathed, and broke away from Andrew. “Sully, watch out!”

  Andrew reached out to grab her, but she was fast on her feet and halfway to Sully by the time Andrew started after her. But she was too late; Sully took the dagger in his upper arm and Josephine screamed, dropping the log and rushing for him as he stumbled backwards.

  Andrew intercepted the gypsy before he could move on Sully again. His rock-like fist caught the gypsy in the jaw and the man’s head snapped sideways, but he didn’t go down. Andrew’s other fist pummeled him again and the man’s head jerked in the opposite direction, with blood and spit flying everywhere. Still, he did not go down, but he was weaving dangerously. With the final blow, Andrew brought up a huge booted leg and kicked the man right in his soft belly.

  He went down like a stone.

  Andrew ripped the dagger from the man’s hand and tossed it away, far away, before turning to Josephine and Sully. Sully was on his feet, watching the approach of the Torridon army as Josephine wrapped his bleeding arm with a strip of purple wool from her surcote.

  “It is not too deep,” she announced to Andrew. “A few stitches and he shall be as good as new.”

  Andrew nodded, watching her grimace as she tore the wool and tied it tightly. She seemed greatly concerned for Sully, which spurred Andrew oddly. She was showing concern for another man and, somehow, he didn’t like that. Not even though it was Sully. Not a man prone to jealousy, he refused to admit that he might actually be feeling some. Impossible! He’d never felt jealousy with regard to a woman in his life and he wasn’t about to start now.

  Still… it would be nice for her to show him the same concern, too.

  Pulling himself away from Josephine and Sully, Andrew’s attention turned to the fight at hand. The Torridon forces had infiltrated the group, quickly quelling whatever resistance there was. Two Torridon knights – Etienne and Burl – were on horseback, with their massive war horses snorting and dancing, knocking about men and snapping with their big teeth. Etienne reined his steed to a halt and dismounted.

  “You are injured,” he said to Sully. “How badly?”

  Sully shook his head. “It is a scratch,” he assured him. “But I want these people rounded up and sent on their way. They are not to spend another moment on Torridon lands.”

  “Wait!” Josephine cried, putting a hand on Etienne’s arm to stop him from following through. “When I was brought to the group, one of the gypsy women took a pendant from around my neck. It belonged to my mother and I want it back.”

  The knights all began looking around. “Which woman?” Andrew asked.

  Josephine craned her neck, searching the crowd. “I do not see her,” she said, her voice laced with disappointment. “Etienne, collect all of the women into a group. I must find this woman and my pendant.”

  Etienne saluted smartly, bellowing orders as he walked away. Josephine brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, her features etched with concern as she watched her men carry out her orders. They were not gentle with the gypsy women by any means; any attempt to resist was met by a sharp slap or a pull of the hair. But that wasn’t Josephine’s concern – she wanted her necklace back and she had yet to see the woman who took it.

  Finally, Josephine saw Albert dragging the scraggly young woman from back beyond the wagons. She fought the tall, gangly knight like a wildcat until the usually gentle man grabbed her hair and pulled her the rest of the way to whe
re the women were now corralled. As they came nearer, recognition dawned.

  “That is the one!” Josephine cried out. “The woman with Albert!”

  She dashed towards Albert, and Andrew and Sully followed close behind. Fearlessly, Josephine went up to the rebellious young woman.

  “Where is the necklace you stole from me?” she demanded.

  The woman gave her a defiant smile, evidently not caring or too stupid to realize that Josephine commanded the army around her.

  “I lost it,” she said lazily.

  Josephine stepped closer to the woman. “Listen well, you cocky little wench,” she hissed. “I intend to find that necklace, so do yourself a favor and tell me where it is. Do you see these men around you? They are at my command. I can have them punish you a thousand ways, so much so that you will wish you were dead. Now, where is my necklace?”

  The woman looked to the stone-like faces of the men that surrounded her. She did not doubt Josephine’s words for a moment, but she was proud and was not going to let Josephine belittle her in front of her own people. More important than anything, she was not going to lose their respect.

  “I do not remember where I put it,” she shrugged, still blatantly defiant.

  Josephine flamed. She took a step towards the woman and raised her hands in a most threatening fashion, but Andrew stopped her.

  “Wait,” he said. “If you will allow me to reason with her, my lady.”

  Josephine, clenching and unclenching her fists, turned her back to the woman. She was so angry that she was genuinely afraid of what she might do. Andrew went to the gypsy girl.

  “Rise,” he told her.

  The wench glanced over to the other women smugly, as she drew herself up. Her eyes twinkled seductively at Andrew, knowing she had more of a chance conning him than she did Josephine. She would pull out all of her tricks for this big man.

  Josephine forced herself to turn and watch what Andrew was doing, but she didn’t like what she saw. The woman stretched and posed like a cat in heat, and she found herself angrier, but on a different level. She was appalled to discover that she didn’t like this woman’s attention on Andrew in the least and she didn’t like it at all that he seemed to be eating it up. He wasn’t even trying to retrieve her pendant. Instead, he was trading flirtatious looks with the whore.

  “Do you know where I can find Lady Josephine’s pendant?” he asked politely.

  She stuck out her small chest and batted her lashes at him. “Now, I might,” she said. “If you were to ask me properly, I might.”

  He reached up a hand towards her and Josephine was about to burst with anger and outrage. Her breathing became fast and hard, and Sully put a hand on her forearm to quiet her. He wanted to see what Andrew was going to do. But what happened wasn’t what he or Josephine expected.

  Andrew smiled at the gypsy woman, who was nearly salivating as she waited for his touch. Then, quick as a flash, Andrew grabbed the front of the woman’s blouse. With a loud, ripping noise, she was laid open to the waist and her tunic was in tatters. Her tiny breasts were exposed to the world and she yelled in surprise, trying to cover herself up, as women around her loudly voiced their protest. But the Torridon soldiers were even louder – voicing their approval.

  Whistles and cheers filled the air as Josephine watched the woman’s humiliation, stunned by what Andrew had done. Next to her, Sully couldn’t keep the smile off of his face. He was coming to like The Red Fury, just a little. The man had ballocks, that was for certain.

  Andrew heard all of the revelry, but his eyes were fixed on the woman in front of him. And he was no longer smiling. As she yelped and tried to cover herself up, Andrew pulled at the bodice, pulling it off of one side of her body as she struggled. He spun her around as if looking for something.

  “It does not seem to be there,” he said. “I wonder where else it could be?”

  The men screamed with laughter. In spite of herself, Josephine felt like giggling as well. The woman was utterly humiliated. Had Josephine not been so angry, she might have felt a twinge of pity. But she silently applauded Andrew for his application of persuasion without the use of physical force. That haughty, nasty woman was bound to give in faster this way.

  “Has your memory returned?” Andrew was asking politely. “Or shall I help it along?”

  The woman’s eyes were black with fury. With a toss of her black hair, she sneered at Andrew.

  “Bastard!” she spat. “How dare you…”

  She never finished her sentence, for Andrew reached out and grasped a corner of her dirty skirt and yanked so hard, she was tripped by the force of it. She was screaming, the men were laughing, and Josephine watched in amused shock as Andrew reached down for the bottom of her shift. Although she was kicking him with all of her might, he barely felt it.

  “Very well!” the woman screamed. “Very well, very well! Stop and I shall give it to you!”

  Instantly, Andrew stopped pawing at her, crossing his arms expectantly. Huffing and puffing with humiliation, the gypsy woman rose as carefully as she could without exposing anything. She looked at Andrew, verging on tears. Then she covered her breasts with one arm and thrust her hand into a hidden pocket in her underskirts. With her grubby fingers, she drew forth the dazzling pendant.

  Josephine charged forward and snatched the necklace before Andrew had a chance to accept it. Then it was Josephine who smiled smugly at the gypsy woman. She was twitching and her mouth was working as she formed her final reply. Her hand itched to slap the little witch, but she didn’t. She had her necklace and that was all that mattered in the end.

  “Thank you,” she said through clenched teeth. Then she spun around, walked away, and spoke to no one in particular. “I want them off my land and out of my sight.”

  Andrew smiled sweetly at the shaking, filthy woman before turning to follow Josephine. He had expected her to flatten the woman, but he admired her for showing restraint. Given her passionate nature and her fondness of punching, he was proud of her for showing some hard-fought self-control. As he stood there and watched her walk away, Sully interrupted his observations.

  “Take Lady Josephine back to Torridon, if you would,” he said. “I shall make sure the woods are cleared.”

  “As you wish,” Andrew said. “I’ll need a horse.”

  Sully waved a hand at Etienne, whistling loudly between his teeth. “Your destrier!”

  Etienne motioned to the soldier holding his steed, and the man immediately brought the muscular animal to Andrew. Without even using the stirrups, Andrew swung himself onto the horse and, using his massive thighs to guide the animal, he moved it in Josephine’s direction.

  But Josephine wasn’t paying any attention. She’d had enough excitement for one day and her emotions had the better of her. Moreover, she was trying to put her necklace back on, but it was broken. She felt a great deal of sadness at that. She was distracted from the broken chain by a big horse next to her and she looked up to see Andrew riding Etienne’s blond beast. She held up the necklace.

  “It is broken,” she said glumly.

  He held out his hand. “May I?”

  She gave it to him and he examined it carefully. She stared at his actions, alternately watching his face and watching his hands as they moved nimbly over the beads.

  “See here,” he held up the broken ends of the necklace. “The silver latch only needs to be repaired. I can do it when we get back to Torridon.”

  Her face brightened. “You can?”

  “Indeed.”

  She smiled gratefully. “You are a man of many talents, then,” she said. “Not only do you fight battles, but you repair jewelry as well.”

  He grinned. “It is nothing, really,” he said. “It just needs to be bent back into place. It is simple.”

  Josephine watched his face, the strong lines of it, and she began to feel the pangs of attraction again. Something about the man had attracted her from the beginning, whether or not she realized it, an
d it was something that was only growing stronger with time.

  Thank you,” she said after a moment. “That would mean a great deal to me.”

  Andrew carefully put the necklace in the money pouch on his belt. When he looked at her again, he couldn’t help but notice she was still looking at him with that same soft expression. Gratitude, he thought. Or… something more…

  Perhaps that was only wishful thinking.

  “It would be my pleasure,” he said after a moment. “Now, Lady Josephine, may I escort you safely back to Torridon?”

  Josephine returned his smile; she couldn’t help it. She placed her hand in his extended one and he lifted her effortlessly onto the saddle in front of him. When she was settled, he squeezed the horse lightly and it walked forth into the forest, heading back to the main road. As the animal picked its way among the bushes and roots, Josephine was very conscious of Andrew’s own warm body next to her.

  It was making her heart race simply to experience it.

  The forest around her was alive with sunlight flickering and birds singing, and she smiled as a pair of butterflies flitted past her. But among it all, she found herself enjoying Andrew’s presence. It was comforting, warm, and settling. She felt safe, as she’d never felt in her life. Her eyes wandered up to the trees as the horse carried them into the shadows, and the situation they left behind them seemed like a wild, impossible nightmare.

  Andrew had been magnificent from the start. From the moment he appeared and had charmed his way into the camp, he had been in complete control, only Josephine had been too blind to see it. She had been too wrapped up in her own outrage to even realize that he had come to help her. That had taken some time, but she was still sorry she’d doubted him. Like a white knight, he’d ridden to her rescue.