A Lily on the Heath 4 (9 page)

Now, all she could do was wait. She opened her wineskin and drank—but not as much as she wanted to. There was no telling how long she’d be trapped here, and she’d need water. Nibbling on a piece of bread, Judith had another idea. If she could climb from this branch to another tree, and then to another and another…mayhap she could elude the dogs that way.
 

But when she looked around, she saw there weren’t any other tree’s branches close enough that would bear her weight.
 

The little niggle of worry began to spread into something larger and heavier. Once more Judith forced herself to ignore it. The dogs had to leave sooner or later.

And when they did, she’d find her way down and away. She would. She must.

Now she had naught left to do but wait. So, tied securely to the tree, she let her head tip back against the trunk and closed her eyes.

~*~

Tabby always enjoyed watching
her grandpapa do his work for the Lilyfare hawks. One of her earliest memories was the sight of him sitting on a short wooden stool near the fire, a myriad of candles around him as he carefully stitched a pair of jesses for Lady Judith’s father.

Her grandpapa had a great love for the raptors and was grateful for his position as Master Falconer for the Lord of Kentworth and now the lord’s daughter, Lady Judith. Since it was illegal for any but the gentry to own the large hunting birds, Tessing was able to spend as much time with the falcons and peregrines as he chose. He had a goshawk for his own hunting purposes, but Lady Judith’s Hecate and Fencer were very nearly as much his as they were hers.

After Tabby settled the injured rabbit in a small basket next to her pallet, she came to her grandpapa for advice. It was through him she’d learned how to care for the injured creatures she found.
 

“I pulled an arrow from his leg,” she told Tessing, watching as he cleaned out the mews. The floor was covered with sawdust and hay, along with the castings regurgitated by the birds. “The bleeding has stopped and I wrapped it up gently with a cloth. But methinks a poultice might serve him better. What did you put on Hecate?”

“A paste of dried woad and lavender,” he replied. “Pull its fur away from the wound to make certain it doesn’t stick inside as it heals.”

“Aye. And for food, I’ve pulled some arugula and dandelion leaves and left them where he can reach.”

“And where is Bear during this? Surely you don’t want him to decide to gnaw on a rabbit leg?” Tessing teased.

Tabby frowned, thinking of the man named Nevril who’d made a similar jest. “What is it with men—is it always only food that sits in their minds?”

“Food, ale—and copulatin’,” her grandfather replied with a wheezing laugh. He must have found that particularly amusing, for he kept chuckling even as he continued sweeping up the pellets on the floor.

“And their bloody swords,” Tabby added tartly. As she went to adjust the rows of leather jesses—long strips that connected the raptor’s feet to his master’s gloves—there was an alarmed shout in the bailey.

This was nothing unusual—someone was always shouting, warning, arguing or otherwise making a loud noise. But the tone had her and Tessing both hurrying out of the mews to see what caused the commotion.

A cluster of men-at-arms and knights stood talking and gesticulating. The first person Tabby recognized was Sir Holbert, Lady Judith’s master-at-arms. He seemed to be the one speaking most animatedly.

“God’s stones,” breathed Tessing. He reached over and curled his fingers around Tabby’s arm. He was pointing to a sight right next to the men, right by the stables. A trio of grooms and one man-at-arms were gathered around a horse. “That’s Crusty.”

“
Nay
,” she gasped, looking around in hopes of seeing Lady Judith. “My lady….” Tabby’s heart thudded so hard she thought she might be ill. She ran over, her eyes fixed on the battered, staggering mare.
 

Because the grooms were already attending to Crusty, Tabatha didn’t get close enough to see much more than a gash in the mare’s side and another injury on her right flank. But ’twas clear something awful had befallen both the horse and her mistress.

“Sir Piall!” Tabby cried and spun, rushing over to Sir Holbert.
 

He heard and immediately turned on her. “Tabby—where is Lady Judith?” His eyes were dull with worry and fear, and she saw he’d already begun to prepare himself to ride out, having donned his mail and cloth hauberk. He was carrying a shield. “Has she yet returned?”

“She and Sir Piall went to capture a hawk,” she told him, aware that the attention of every man in the group was fixed on her. “I don’t know where they went.”

“They traveled to the forest at the foot of those hills.” Grandpapa, bless him, was next to her now. His voice, calm and yet laden with gravity, soothed her some small bit. “Sir Piall would allow nothing to happen to my lady.”

“But there is her mare,” said a man who towered over the others. Like the others, he was garbed in full mail and had obviously been training in the yard. “And aught has clearly happened to
her
.” His voice was tight and his green-brown eyes cool and sharp. His fine surcoat and the shield he carried indicated his status as a great lord.
 

Though Tabby didn’t know him, she recognized the standard on his shield and surcoat. It was the same as the livery worn by the man named Nevril. With a start, she realized that very man was standing in the group as well. He glanced over, but made no move to speak to her. Nevril’s face was serious, and he returned his attention to his lord.

“We must ride after them,” Sir Holbert said unnecessarily, for the group had already begun to call for the grooms to bring their horses. “God knows what has befallen them.”

“’Tis a two-hour ride to the hills,” said Nevril’s master, peering into the distance from beneath a hand shielding the sun. Despite the grave situation, he appeared calm and thoughtful. “What time did they leave?”

When he turned suddenly to Tabby, she was startled at being addressed so directly by such a powerful lord. She stammered, “’Twas well after mass.” Peering at the sun’s position, she calculated quickly. “They’ve been gone at the least five hours.”

“How did they mean to travel?” he demanded. “Do you know? By road?”

Thankfully, Tessing once again spoke up. “They would follow the road as far as they could. And then when the forest at the foot of the hills was near, they would head toward the tallest trees wherein one might see the nest of a raptor. If not there, then they would go toward the highest of the hills, where a nest might also be among the rocky peak.”

“We ride. Nevril, Gambert,
now
,” said the lord just as three of the grooms brought his fierce, dancing warhorse from the stable. Tabby shied away from the dark brown beast, whose hooves were the size of dinner plates and whose strength required the three men to keep him under control—and even then ’twas no easy task. “There’s no time to be lost.”

“We’re with you, Warwick,” said Sir Holbert, then turned to holler for the other men-at-arms from Lilyfare.
 

“As am I,” announced Lord Hugh. Standing with him was Lord Richard of Castendown. “If we ride fast we’ll be to the hills well before dusk.” He took the reins of his own massive horse.

“We’ll ride fast,” Lord Warwick told him as he vaulted onto the back of his mount. The prancing, whuffling horse settled as soon as he felt his master’s weight. “Do your best to keep pace. H
yah
!”

The horse leapt forward and everyone scattered as the stallion and Lord Warwick flew across the bailey yard, clattering beneath the raised portcullis and out over the drawbridge.

~*~

Malcolm wasn’t entirely certain why
he felt such a numbing yet blazing fear as he bent over Alpha’s neck, the warhorse’s muscles bunching and stretching with each movement. His chest was banded tight and his mind blank but for the focus of:
ride, ride, ride!

Of course he always feared for any woman or child—or even a man, even his deadliest of enemies—who would be mauled or so terribly injured, as was clearly what happened to Judith’s mare. And quite possibly to her as well.
 

And that was where the blinding terror came in. Nay. Not to Judith. Not to exuberant, imperious, confounding Judith.

But it was precisely that unexpected, white-hot fear which drove him now—the fear of what they would find. The images of her, pale and bloody, ripped and slashed…dead. Her life seeping into the grass even as her glorious hair spread around her cold body like fire.

It was only once Clarendon was far in the distance that Mal realized he couldn’t force Alpha to keep such a breakneck pace all the way to…wherever they were going. With regret, he slowed the trusty destrier to a brisk canter and, breathing heavily from the effort of the mad ride and his anxiety, took the opportunity to marshal his thoughts.

On the road coming up behind him—from much too far back—galloped Nevril and Gambert, along with Holbert, whom he’d gleaned was Judith’s master-at-arms, and several more of her men. There was also de Rigonier, Castendown, Ludingdon, and Fleurwelling, and their squires. Mal could have felt a little foolish at his mad dash, blasting out of Clarendon as he’d done, but it wasn’t in his nature to worry on others’ opinions of him.
 

Nevertheless, when Dirick of Ludingdon and the others caught up with him at last, his friend looked curiously at Mal. “Kind of you to wait for us,” he commented in that understated way of his.

“Alpha needed to run,” Mal replied with a shrug. “Else he’d be champing and stomping all the day. Asides, the longer the delay, the more likely we are to find what we do not wish. I meant to waste no time. If either lay injured or near death, the sooner we find them….”

“Aye,” Dirick replied, but in his sober expression there lurked a hint of levity. “Let us pray we do not find the worst.”

“My lord,” said Nevril, riding up alongside them. He was panting from the exertion of the mad ride as well. “The lady’s maid was beside herself. On the orders of Lady Judith, she sent word to the queen her lady was indisposed today and could not attend her. She is terrified Queen Eleanor will learn of the lie and fears both she and Lady Judith will feel the queen’s wrath if the truth comes out.”

Mal shook his head grimly. “Let us hope that is the least of her worries, Nevril.” He looked ahead and saw, perhaps a half hour in the distance, the tall trees brushing the sky just at the foot of rough hills. “They were searching for raptors. How will we ever find them?”

“We’ll split up,” de Rigonier said, drawing even with Mal and Dirick as Nevril fell back. “Lady Judith prefers to capture her birds by climbing rather than trapping. If we sight nests, we can have a good sense of whither she and Piall have gone. And then we must follow their trail.”

Mal nodded in agreement and they rode along in near silence for a time. For once he almost wished for conversation—that aught might take his mind from the worry churning within. But in the stead of gnawing on what he might find—for he would learn soon enough if his fears would come to pass—Mal distracted himself by wondering on the relationship between Judith and Hugh de Rigonier.

He’d witnessed them laughing, jesting, and conversing together. Their informality and ease with the other would be enviable if Mal cared about such things. But for him, a woman—a wife—meant someone to warm his bed, provide an heir, and keep his household running smoothly. Nor would he refuse a fat dowry chest or some other valuable bride’s price if she brought it.
 
Whether they amused each other or even cared for each other beyond a basic affection was of little interest to him. He was a practical man.
 

Yet since he was a man, and a practical one, he couldn’t help but wonder if Judith and de Rigonier were lovers. It wouldn’t surprise Mal, for it was well-known that Eleanor’s and Henry’s court wasn’t the strictly moral one
 
the queen had left behind when she divorced the pious Louis of France. The priests and bishops—even the flamboyant Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas à Becket—decried the current mode of dress in which women wore tightly-laced gowns to show off their curves. The holy men claimed it was salacious and immodest and contributed to the growing immorality of the court.
 

That was yet another reason Mal preferred the quiet privacy of his beloved Warwick.
The sooner I can return, the happier I shall be.
He’d hoped to have his audience with the king on this day, for he needed permission to find a bride and marry as he wished.

But this journey to find Judith was much more important than obtaining permission to wed someone like Lady Beatrice of Delbring.

“There,” he cried, pointing to a clump high in a pine tree, just a half-league north of where they road. “A raptor nest. Where there is one, mayhap shall be Lady Judith.”

“And there is another,” said de Rigonier. “And another. We must divide ourselves.”

This was quickly accomplished, with Mal, Nevril and Gambert heading north on their own. His heart thudding with purpose, Mal kicked Alpha into a full gallop and once again left the others in his dust. As they headed toward the forest of tall, scraggly trees, he felt a moment of bliss at the glorious speed and grace from his warhorse. Oft the destriers were so large and muscular they didn’t have the speed and elegance one needed for such a task, but Alpha was one of a few that had all the skills a battle-bound lord would need.