By Queen's Grace (7 page)

Her tingling mouth knew, and her trembling body knew, though her mind needed a moment to realize he’d truly kissed her. When it did, she spun her head to look for her kidnappers. She needn’t have worried. Corwin had placed the mare so Thurkill and Oswuld couldn’t see them.

For the life of her, she couldn’t decide if she should seek another kiss or berate him soundly for taking dangerous liberties. She reached up and touched his cheek.

“You grow a beard,” she said, the roughness of it still a whisper of a memory against her chin.

“Like it?”

She didn’t have the chance to answer. Duncan galloped into the camp as if Satan himself was snapping at his heels.

Corwin shifted in the saddle to ease his continuing discomfort and tried to concentrate on the task at hand: evading the sheriff.

They were traveling at a good pace, but not fast enough to suit him. Thurkill insisted on leading Judith’s mare, which slowed them. Several hours remained before nightfall, time enough to get a good lead on the sheriff and his men-if Duncan was right about the sheriff making a thorough search of Oxford. With luck, the sheriff wouldn’t leave the city until tomorrow morning.

Damn. Corwin shouldn’t have kissed Judith, not even gotten near her. What if the mare had shied and exposed their brief touch of lips to Thurkill? What if Judith had cried out in either surprise or anger?

But neither had happened. The well-trained mare had stood her ground, and Judith. she’d retasted the kiss with
the tip of her tongue and looked up at him as if she craved more of a sweet treat.

He’d kissed her more than an hour ago. The band had ridden several leagues to gain ground on the sheriff. Corwin purposely rode at the back, placing Duncan and Oswuld between him and Judith, hoping if he didn’t see her clearly the kiss would no longer haunt him.

Useless gesture. Corwin didn’t need to see the woman to know the feel of her palms braced on his shoulders, the warmth of her body against his hands, the sweetness of her lips pressed to his. He could tell himself from now until the second coming that he’d kissed her to give comfort and offer sympathy. To seal a promise given. Nonsense, all of it. He’d kissed her because she was there, in his arms, and it had felt so right.

On the day they’d met he’d wondered how Judith would taste, how she would respond. Since their reunion, thoughts of her had haunted his nights and brightened his days. He’d ached to hold her, press her close, feel her warmth, always wondering if her lips were as soft and moist as they looked. Now he knew, and doubted he would ever forget. His desire for her might lessen with time and distance. The sharp pangs of lust might fade into a sweet memory.

But he would never forget.

A low, distant rumbling set the hair on the back of Corwin’s neck to tingling. Corwin never ignored his instincts; they’d saved his hide far too many times. The group of riders coming up hard and fast behind them might not be the sheriff’s men, but he couldn’t take the risk. Quickly, he overtook Thurkill and did what came naturally-gave orders.

“A large group comes up on our rear. Mayhap the sheriff, mayhap not. Judith, slide on with Thurkill. Oswuld, grab hold of her horse and remain behind with me. The
rest of you head for the river and find a place to hide until the danger is past.”

“Why not just make a run for it?” Duncan asked.

“Because if it is the sheriff, he will likely catch us. I may be able to misdirect him. If not, there is no harm done.”

“He is right, Duncan,” Thurkill said before Duncan could voice another objection. “If Corwin can cause a delay in his progress, we stand a better chance of evading capture.”

Corwin met Thurkill’s evaluating stare head-on. It lasted only moments before Thurkill said, “We will do as you say. Duncan will wipe out our tracks, so we will need to watch for you. If we are unable to rejoin, meet us at the White Swan Inn, south of Coventry.”

Duncan’s horse pranced, reacting to his rider’s anger. In disbelief, Duncan turned away from Thurkill and sidled toward Corwin. “I obey because Thurkill orders me to,” he said, spitting out the words. “I swear to you, Corwin of Lenvil, if the sheriff catches us,
your
life is forfeit.”

“Protect Judith. I will see what I can do with the sheriff.”

The lady they all vowed to keep safe, though for different reasons, wore a strange expression. With her brow scrunched and her mouth forming a pout, Corwin couldn’t tell if she expressed concern or was pondering on how to thwart his plan.

Thurkill spurred his horse. Duncan followed in his dust.

Corwin hated letting Judith out of his sight, entrusting Thurkill and Duncan with her well-being. If anything happened to her, the
rebels’
lives were forfeit. He watched until they disappeared around a curve in the road.

“Now what?” Oswuld asked.

“We block the road. Keep your sword at the ready.”

“What do you want me to do?”

Sounds of the approaching horses grew louder. Oswuld was far more nervous now than he’d been when entering the Norman stronghold. “The same as you did at Aimsley. Stay on your horse and let me do the talking. If there is trouble, ride for all you are worth and take care not to lead them to your father. And Oswuld, if this is the sheriff, he will be Norman and speak in his own language. You will not know what we say.”

Oswuld sighed. “I guessed as much. One would think the rulers of a country would take the time to learn the tongue of those they rule, if only to give orders.”

Corwin placed his warhorse in the middle of the narrow road and dismounted. He didn’t have long to wait until the group appeared. At its head rode a man clad in chain mail, followed by only a handful of soldiers. Sedrick had said the sheriff led a company of twelve. Mayhap Corwin had worried for nothing.

His hope disappeared when the leader slowed and then stopped. The lank man of middling years leaned forward and asked in Norman French, “Might I assume you are Corwin of Lenvil?”

“Who asks?”

“Robert of Oxford, Sheriff of Hampshire.”

“Then you assume correctly. How did you know?”

“Your man, William, gave me a rather detailed description of you-” his eyes darted about Corwin’s person, “-and your horse and sword hilt. Would that I had received as good a description of our villains from the nuns. Three bearded Saxons. One old, two young. The younger men named Osgoode and Dunstan, or so they thought. Not much, hmm?”

“Ah, well,” Corwin said, smiling. “At least to you they gave names.”

The sheriff’s gaze finally rested on Oswuld. “I expected you to be alone.”

“I thought it wise to hire an extra set of eyes,” Corwin said, staying with the same story he’d told Sedrick this morning. This man was smart, missed nothing. The sheriff truly had no reason to suspect Corwin of anything other than setting out to rescue Judith. Still, Corwin knew it best to draw no adverse attention.

“And the mare?” the sheriff asked.

“Purchased this morning at Aimsley, for Lady Judith if’ I find her. Sedrick told me you intended to search Oxford today. I gather you did not find her.”

“Not as yet, but I will.” The conviction in the sheriffs tone gave Corwin a moment’s pause. “I left part of my force to search the city, but no one I talked with remembered seeing a woman in a nun’s robe in the company of three men. ‘Twould be an oddity people would remark upon. I suspect they are somewhere ahead of me yet, as you do, or you would not be here.”

Corwin seized the chance to misdirect the sheriff.

“I begin to wonder if I am mistaken.”

“Truly? Why so?”

“Obviously, our villains took Lady Judith in order to demand a ransom for her return. Agreed?”

“One would think so.”

“Just because they headed north after the kidnapping does not mean they continued north for a long way. Did you lose their trail in the forest, not far from the abbey, as I did?”

The sheriff made a face, revealing his chagrin. “They seemed to travel in circles. But they did make the road, eventually. As you did.”

“True. Since then, signs of their passing have been harder to find, and I wonder if we have not both been
played for fools. Consider, Sheriff. One of them could have taken the lady to a place of safekeeping, and the others are leading the two of us away from her.”

The sheriff thought about the suggestion, then shook his head. “‘Tis possible, Corwin, but my gut tells me they all head north. If I do not find them by the time I reach Coventry, then I will have to give your suspicion more thought. For now, I will stay the course.”

The man was both tenacious and cautious; Corwin would give him that. He swallowed his disappointment in not turning the sheriff around. “Will you follow the road?”

“Aye, for the most part. You are most welcome to ride with me.”

A natural thing for Corwin to do if he were still in pursuit of the rebels, intent on rescuing Judith and bringing the brigands to justice. Instead, he had to find their hiding place to keep them from going to Coventry and possibly being caught.

“Consider this, Sheriff. I will do you the favor of searching the river from here to where it bends west. If I do not find them, I will head back to Cotswold and leave the search in your capable hands. If I do find them, I will send word to you in Coventry.”

The sheriff smiled. “When William told me of you, he also bragged of your skill with a sword. If you find them, try not to kill them all. I want to see at least one hang.”

Corwin gave a slight bow. “I shall do my best, my lord sheriff.”

With a flourish, Robert, Sheriff of Hampshire, continued his journey north, along the road Thurkill had taken and Corwin prayed fervently that he’d left.

“How are your tracking skills, Oswuld? Think we can find your father?”

“Mayhap. I gather there is some urgency? I do not understand
French, but understood the word
Coventry.
Is that where he intends to go?”

“I tried to alter his course, but to no avail. We need to warn Thurkill.”

Oswuld smiled. “I do believe you are truly a rebel now, Corwin. This makes the second time today you have misled a Norman. They will not be pleased when they find out.”

Inwardly, Corwin cringed. No matter what happened with the rebellion, there may very well be a penalty to pay for having lied to the sheriff. “Only one. Sedrick is Flemish, not Norman. Besides, the punishment for joining the rebellion will be severe if it fails. I do hope this leader of yours is a good commander or we will all hang right beside him.”

“Too true.” Oswuld looked up the road. “I hope Duncan did not cover his tracks too well, but knowing him, he did a thorough job.”

Duncan certainly had. After two hours and as many backtrackings, Corwin finally found the spot where they’d. left the road. After that, he counted on a broken twig here and a hoofprint in the leaf-carpeted forest floor there-and a good bit of luck-to guide his way.

Corwin was about to give up when he saw Duncan at the edge of the water-across the river.

“Duncan!” Oswuld cried out. “Where did you cross?”

Duncan pointed downstream. “Back a ways, other side the man-height boulder. The horses will need to swim some.”

Corwin turned his warhorse around and retraced his path. By the time he and Oswuld crossed the river and found the campsite, Corwin was wet and tired, and wanted nothing more than a bite to eat and a patch of long grass on which to lay his head.

Judith came up, looking worried. She laid a hand on
Oswuld’s leg as he sat on his mount. “I think you should have a word with your father. The ride this afternoon taxed him sorely. He does not look well.”

Corwin swore inwardly. If the old man died, or even grew too ill to retain command, Duncan would certainly take over as leader. Given the man’s distrust and animosity, Corwin didn’t doubt that one of Duncan’s first acts as leader would be to rid the band of its newest member.

J
udith helped Corwin with the horses while Oswuld mixed a potion for his father. Duncan hadn’t yet returned from his fishing, and Judith hoped he’d catch several trout. For their evening meal Thurkill wasn’t the only one tired of rabbit and squirrel, and Duncan hadn’t brought back supplies.

“How bad is Thurkill?” Corwin asked as he removed the saddle from Judith’s mare.

“He tells me he needs something to eat and a night’s rest, but I fear there is more to his illness than weariness. While we were crossing the river, he might have fallen off the horse had I not held him on.”

“Oswuld told me his father has a heart ailment.”

That explained why Thurkill had rubbed at his chest last night. Why he’d spent part of the mad dash to this spot slumped forward and had nearly slid off the saddle while crossing the river. She’d suspected he was in great pain after detecting hawthorn in his potion, though she hadn’t known the pain was in his heart.

“Does Duncan know?” she asked.

“I think so. Why?”

“He pushed us hard,” she said, her ire rising once more. “Neither Thurkill nor I saw any reason to cross the
river-” taxing the horses, getting her skirts wet, soaking

her boots, which would take forever to dry out “-but Duncan insisted. He believed the more obstacles we placed between us and the sheriff, the better. Was the sheriff behind us?”

“Aye.” Corwin handed her his blanket. “Rub the mare down with this while I unsaddle the other two.”

“You sent the sheriff on his way, I suppose.”

“You knew that was my intent”

She’d known, but hadn’t uttered a word of protest when Corwin ordered her off her mare and onto Thurkill’s horse. She’d obeyed his command immediately, even knowing if she turned her mare around and bolted toward the oncoming riders, she might be headed toward a safe haven instead of still being held captive.

True, Thurkill had held the mare’s reins, and he might have not allowed her to escape. But she hadn’t tried.

The mare leaned into the rubdown, enjoying the scratch of wool against her hide. Judith found a measure of peace in the work.

Corwin chuckled. “If that mare were a cat, she would purr.”

Judith smiled at the observation. “She enjoys the pampering. Has she a name?”

“Likely, but Sedrick did not mention one, and I was in so much of a hurry to get her back to you I did not think to ask.”

“She is truly a beautiful mare. Mayhap that is what I will call her-Beauty.”

When Corwin didn’t comment, she looked toward him. He’d unsaddled the other two horses and stood near his destrier, staring at her.

“Aye,” he said. “A true beauty.”

His stare intensified, reflecting a raw animal hunger that
sent a warm flush through her body, head to toe. Corwin wasn’t talking about the horse, she knew. Mercy, she was so disheveled she must look like the lowest of wantons. And she felt wanton, purely female, about to be pounced upon by the strongest, most virile of males.

Judith fought the desire that coiled low and deep. She shouldn’t want Corwin’s attention, or long for the press of another kiss, or wonder if he would caress her again if they were private.

Of course he would. He would do more than kiss her if she let him, and she very much feared she would let him do whatever he pleased. He’d been the first to arouse her female curiosity about coupling with a man. Her curiosity hadn’t abated, and again she longed for Corwin to show her the ways of the world, what could happen between male and female.

At the moment, she wanted to be someone other than who she was, Judith Canmore, royal heiress. She longed to be a woman free to play the wanton, use whatever female wiles she might possess to lure the mate she desired to her bed. A mate strong, virile and intelligent-a man possessed of broad shoulders and a commanding voice.

She’d responded to Corwin’s command, believing he knew what he was about, that she could trust him to do what was best. She’d listened with her heart, not her head. Was that wise? She didn’t know, but she had to allow that at some time she’d begun to trust him, and had sealed her fate to his the moment she’d obeyed him.

Thurkill and Oswuld were beginning to trust Corwin, too. Not Duncan. Duncan trusted no one, not even Thurkill.

“You stare too hard, Corwin,” she finally said, having become aware once more of the captors who watched. “Someone will notice.”

“They can hardly be angry at me for what they do themselves.”

“They do not stare at me as you do.”

“Not for the same reason, but have you not noticed Thurkill’s long looks? I think he begins to wonder if he has done the right thing by kidnapping you. Duncan stares, trying to guess when you might take it into your head to run again, I think. But Oswuld-the poor lad, I think he is half in love with you. Have you not noticed how he dotes on you?”

“He is just being kind.”

“He is moonstruck, caught in the spell of a lovely, charming woman.”

‘Twas probably the height of foolishness to ask, but she had to know. “And you, Corwin, are you susceptible to spells?”

He tilted his head, his smile pensive. “Thinking of using one on me to help you escape? I cannot do that, Judith. You know why.”

Corwin had every right to be suspicious of her motives for asking.

“Nay,” she said softly. “I have decided to trust you, Corwin. I will not try to run away again. We will learn what we can, then take the news to whoever you think best. You lead, I will follow.”

He raised a hand to reach out to her, then closed it into a fist and let it fall. “What changed your mind?”

Judith took the few steps separating them and gave Corwin the blanket. “I am not sure,” she admitted. “All I know is that I did not try to escape this morning when I had a chance at success, and that I worried over you until you found us again. At some time I must have realized your plan is a good one, that only we can stop this rebellion. I stay with you, Corwin.”

Nor could she bear the thought of being parted from him. On the verge of confessing her feelings, she walked off to check on Thurkill.

Oswuld hovered over his father, a worried look on his face. She, too, felt a pang of worry. Thurkill didn’t look good at all, no better than he had since he’d slid off his horse and sat down on the ground. With his back against a log, he hadn’t moved from the spot.

His smile for her was weak. “So, my lady, you have your horse back. I saw you rub her down,” he said, his voice stronger than she’d imagined it would be.

“I will admit riding the mare is highly preferable to bouncing around behind you.”

“I imagine it is,”, then told Oswuld, “Fetch Corwin. I wish to hear his tale of the meeting with the sheriff.”

Oswuld looked from his father to her. Judith understood his concern.

“Go,” she said; “I will sit with him.”

Reassured, Oswuld turned and headed toward Corwin.

“I need no nursemaid,” Thurkill grumbled. “Oswuld worries overmuch.”

“Does he? I wonder,” she said, making the log her perch.

“I need but rest and food.”

“So you have said.” She picked up the metal cup Thurkill had set aside. She sniffed at the dregs, noting the odors. “What herbs other than hawthorn are in this potion Oswuld gave you?”

“I know not. Oswuld mixes it, I drink it. Have you recovered from this afternoon’s ride?”

Judith noted his attempt to change the subject and ignored it. “But for the discomfort of wet boots, I am fine.
You, however, possess the pallor of old flour and the strength of a newborn kitten.”

“I will be fine by morn.”

Judith had her doubts.

Corwin gave her only a passing glance before he settled in to tell Thurkill of the meeting with the sheriff. Duncan returned with two large fish and listened as he scraped the scales away with his dagger. After Corwin finished, Oswuld gave his own impressions of the meeting.

“The sheriff knew Corwin right off, but as he said, the nuns did a bad job of describing us. They even got our names wrong. The sheriff looked right at me and dismissed me.”

“Humph, why would the sheriff pay any heed to you?” Duncan interjected. “If he catches us, he will be pleased. But we are not his quarry. The princess is. I imagine the royals will reward quite handsomely anyone who takes her back to Romsey.”

Thurkill rubbed his eyes. “Aye, but if the sheriff finds Judith, he also finds us, and I prefer that does not come to pass.”

“We should stay off the road,” Corwin said. “The men the sheriff left to search Oxford may have orders to ride on to Coventry when finished. Can we get to.wherever we are going if we change our course?”

Thurkill looked from Duncan to Oswuld before he answered, “Aye. ‘Twill take us longer, but it can be done.”

“Not too much longer, I hope,” Duncan said. “We must arrive within-soon.”

Thurkill nodded, then leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

Judith watched Thurkill’s chest rise and fall. “Oswuld, show me what herbs you give your father.” With just a look, he questioned her request. “I know something of medicinal
herbs. Mayhap I can suggest another that would further ease his pain.”

“Have a care, Oswuld. She may think to poison me for my sins against her,” Thurkill said, only half teasing, Judith thought.

So Corwin was right. Thurkill was questioning her kidnapping, wondering if he’d made a mistake.

“Oh, I would not worry, Thurkill,” she assured him. “I have no need to hasten your death. You do a good job of that all on your own.”

As Judith left, Corwin decided she had the right of it. The stress and exertion after kidnapping Judith were taking a heavy toll on Thurkill. Mayhap, with stronger herbs and more rest, the man’s condition would improve. Or at least keep him alive long enough to complete the journey.

“She is right, you know,” he told Thurkill. “You need to get more rest. I will take your stint at guard duty tonight.”

“I forbid it!” Duncan shouted, getting to his feet.

“Forbid?” Thurkill asked. “So long as I breathe, I am still in command, Duncan.”

Duncan backed down only slightly. “Strongly protest, then. He is not yet one of us.”

“Not yet, but he will be.”

“That, Thurkill, is not your decision to make, as you admitted when you let him ride with us. ‘Tis. our leader who will decide. Yet you give Corwin liberties as if there were no question of his acceptance. Well, I question.”

Corwin got to his feet. “Duncan, I am at a loss where you are concerned. You are right about the reward for Judith’s return. ‘Tis likely hefty, yet I have not taken her back to collect it. I went into a Norman holding this morn and obtained a horse for her, without arousing a single suspicion. A few hours ago, I dealt with the sheriff. There have
been several opportunities for me to turn you in, and I have not done so.”

“You say you aroused no suspicion. You say you dealt with the sheriff. Did you really, or will we wake up some morn to find the sheriff’s men or Norman knights surrounding us?” He shook his head. “I trust you not, Corwin of Lenvil. You are not one of us. Your name may be Saxon, but you are far too Norman in manner for my taste. Not even the beard you grow will convince me otherwise.” Duncan glanced at Thurkill before continuing. “Take the guard duty if you must, but beware. I, too, know how to sleep with one eye open and my hand upon my sword.”

Guard duty proved boring when there was little to guard against. They were far from the road, well away from any town or village. Not even animals scurried about to break the dullness.

So Corwin watched Judith sleep.

‘Twas a heady sensation, having her confidence. Something in her voice, and in the way she looked at him when she’d handed her care over to him, said she meant it.

You lead, I will follow.

Might she have also been sincere when she’d apologized for snubbing him all those years ago? Might the words-have been truly meant but just delivered badly? Or was he fooling himself, wanting to believe?

She’d been subdued all evening. After finishing the evening meal, she and Oswuld had gone off hunting for some herb she claimed might help Thurkill. Corwin had given a brief thought to going along, not so much to help hunt, but just to be near her. To listen to the sound of her voice, to see her smile, to simply enjoy her company.

From somewhere, he’d found the willpower to remain in camp. ‘Twould not be wise to become overattentive, which
might raise suspicions among the rebels. They considered her the future wife of their lord and would become displeased if be paid undue attention to the woman they would make their queen.

Too, he couldn’t trust himself not to find some excuse to send Oswuld off on his own so he could be alone with Judith. He wanted her, and if he judged her reactions to him aright, she wanted him, too. ‘Twould be so easy, so pleasurable to wrap his arms around her, kiss her lush mouth until she moaned, strip her naked and caress every inch of her until both of them were senseless. When she cried out his name, he’d bury himself deep within her softness and stroke her solidly to the heights of ecstasy.

He could do it now. Remove his chain mail, lay down next to her, have her. Only the two of them would know.

Duncan’s threat to remain awake had succumbed to the rigors of the day. Corwin gave him credit for trying, but the man’s eyes had closed and stayed that way nearly an hour ago. The two of them were going to come to blows one day. Corwin knew it in his bones. Each time Thurkill allowed Corwin a new responsibility, Duncan’s resistance increased. Someday, Duncan’s anger would get the best of him and he would draw his sword.

As much as he was glad Duncan slept, Corwin almost wished Duncan didn’t now snore. Resisting temptation was always easier if one feared one would get caught.

His current temptation moved her arm, a slight movement to gain comfort. Judith didn’t wake, or reach out for him, or beckon him to her side. But he felt her pull.

You lead, I will follow.

And she would, right up to the gates of the rebels’ stronghold, then down whatever road he chose to spread the news of the rebellion. He had no right to ask more from her, even if she was willing.