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Authors: Elizabeth Cole

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She spied a broken carriage behind one building, far too rich a vehicle to be owned by anyone here. It must be stolen. Likely the chickens and the horses were stolen too. Perhaps this band menaced the road for the whole length of the forest. From the look of the men in the camp, they were definitely used to fighting, and probably killed without mercy.

So what did their leader want with Cecily and Alric?

She had her bridal jewelry, but was that enough wealth to buy their freedom? The bandits could even have the horses in payment for their freedom. Then again, this so-called lord of the Ardenwood already had them in his power. He could simply take what he wanted.

Cecily looked to Alric. From his expression, he’d come to the same conclusion. But he still gave her a slight smile. She smiled back. Alric would fight for her to the last. She only hoped it would not come to that.

At the far end of the clearing was a larger building, nestled at the foot of four large, spreading oaks. It looked as if it might be part of the trees, except for the steep sloping roof and curl of smoke from the chimney.

“In there?” she asked, once they stopped at the doorway.

“Aye,” the guard replied. “Wait here a moment.”

He ducked inside to alert whoever waited within. Cecily felt a sting of nervousness. Their fate was in the hands of a stranger. Was this a better end than marrying Pierce and suffering his capricious and treasonous ways?

Alric stepped closer to her, wordlessly offering his protection. Cecily wished she could take his hand, but she needed to appear confident in her own right if she was to negotiate with this robber baron.

The guard emerged from the house. “He’ll see you. Go on in.”

“I’ll go first,” Alric said, stepping in front of Cecily.

He vanished into the dark interior. Cecily took a deep breath, then followed him in.

A little fire burned in a corner, and a candle flickered on a table. Still, the contrast with the daylight outside rendered Cecily nearly blind.

“Hello?” she asked.

“Well met.” The deep voice belonged to the shadowed figure sitting near the fire. Cecily strained her eyes to see any details of the man.

“Come in,” he continued. “I will not eat you.”

“You are the one who calls himself the lord of the Ardenwood?” Alric asked.

The man laughed, a surprisingly warm and hearty sound. “Not I. Blame young Robin’s sense of humor for that name.”

“You rule this place as if you were a lord,” Alric returned, eyeing the man, “and from your manner of speech, you weren’t born in the woods.”

Their host paused for a moment, considering Alric’s words. Cecily wondered if he was angry, but then he sighed.

“The past is past,” he said, though so quietly that perhaps he only spoke to himself.

Before Cecily could introduce herself and Alric, someone else entered behind them. He bore Alric’s sword in its scabbard, as well as their daggers.

“Sir, your guests went armed. I was following, and I retrieved their weapons to bring here.” He placed them at the feet of the shadowed man, adding, “The man is a solider of some training. And look!”

The guard held Alric’s sword up, hilt first, to the lord.

Large hands took the hilt, and judged the weapon with only a moment’s test. “Impressive. A knight would be proud to wield this.”

“A knight did wield it,” Alric said, “till your minion Robin forced me to lay it aside by threatening the life of a lady.” His voice was cold, plainly disapproving of any lord who would employ such a rogue as Robin.

Cecily thought she could prevent an altercation if she took charge of the discussion.

“Please, sir,” she said, addressing herself to their strange woodland captor. “We mean no harm, and we have nothing against you. Indeed, we did not even dream such a company as yours existed in the woods here. We were only in that clearing by happenstance, passing through the Ardenwood on our way south. This knight who accompanies me is Sir Alric of Hawksmere. I am a lady, Cecily de Vere. You must let us…”

“Cecily de Vere,” the voice repeated, the tone now sharp. “Do you speak the truth?”

Cecily paused, astonished that her name could have such an effect on a stranger. But she held her head up proudly as she said, “I was born Cecily de Vere. My family is noble.”

“Name me your mother,” the man said, “and your father.”

“My mother was Matildis of Gall. She passed away when I was but a babe. My father was Rainald de Vere, who held his honor in trust for the old king. And he too is gone, after bandits attacked our manor some years ago. Did you know them?”

“Very well.” The shadowed figure stood. “Enough to tell you that not all of your story is true.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, puzzled. “Who are you?”

The man took a step forward, which brought his face into the pool of light cast by the candle on the table. Though worn by time and circumstance, his face was hauntingly familiar to her.

“Cecily, you know me,” he said.

She put her hand to her mouth. “No.”

“Yes. It is me, my child.”

She blinked, and felt the world spinning around her.

“Father!”

Chapter 30

Alric caught the swooning Cecily
just as she began to fall to the floor.

“Jesu,” he snapped. “Did you have to reveal yourself so abruptly? She needs help now. And a place to rest.”

“There, please.” Rainald pointed to a low bench at one side. It was wide enough to serve as a bed for Cecily, so Alric picked her up in his arms to carry her over.

He laid her gently down on the bench. A folded blanket was near to hand, so he used it as a pillow.

To Rainald, he said, “Call for someone to bring something to drink. She’s exhausted, and not prepared for such a blow.”

Rainald nodded absently, rather in shock himself, then walked to the door and shouted to the guards outside.

Alric turned back to Cecily. Her face was dead white, lips pinched, eyelids fluttering. Her breathing was too rapid and too shallow. He reached out to brush her hair back from her skin, and felt how clammy she was.

“Jesu,” he repeated, feeling his stomach drop as he realized the enormity of what they’d just learned.

He stood up as an older woman rushed in, followed by the boy Robin.

Rainald said to the woman, “Sara, please, you must help her.”

“What’s happened?” the woman asked bluntly.

“She swooned,” Alric said.

“Poor lamb,” Sara said, rolling up the sleeves of her gown. “Robin, fetch me good wine and some of the stew cooking for supper. It will be ready by now.”

The boy accepted the order without argument, retreating with a speed suggesting he either respected Sara more than the others in the camp, or he recognized the urgency of the situation.

Sara knelt by Cecily’s side and took a cold hand between her own, rubbing the skin vigorously.

“What brought this on?” she asked, looking over her shoulder.

Rainald answered, “I told her that I was her father, who she thought long dead.”

Sara’s eyes rounded. “What did you say?”

“It’s true,” Alric added. “This is the lady Cecily de Vere, the only child of Rainald de Vere.”

“And how do you know that?” Rainald asked, pinning his gaze on Alric. “I noticed how familiar you were with my daughter just now. What right have you to touch her?”

Alric set his jaw, anticipating an ugly fight. He had to divert the older man’s wrath for a few moments for Cecily’s sake.

“As your daughter told you, my name is Alric,” he said, “and I have been a knight in Theobald de Vere’s service for the past several years, in payment of his fealty to King Stephen. We had leave from the king for a season, and I was charged with escorting Lady Cecily on her journey from Cleobury to Malvern…which has not gone to plan.”

“Evidently not! For you are alone in the Ardenwood with her. Why?”

“We were forced to flee Malvern Castle,” Alric said, “because we had discovered—”

He was interrupted by a low moan.

Cecily had come back to consciousness, through she was staring in confusion at Sara, her eyes wide and unfocused. “Who are you?” she asked. “Where’s Alric?”

“I’m here,” he said, kneeling down by Cecily. “You’re safe. Do you remember what happened?”

She took a long, unsteady breath, then looked around the dim room. When she saw Rainald, she gasped. “Father!”

“Yes, child.” Rainald stepped to her side as Sara moved away. “I had no notion what effect my words would have on you. Forgive me.”

She moved as if to sit up, but Alric pushed her back simply by laying a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t move yet,” he cautioned her. “You must rest. This woman here is Sara, and she’ll take care of you. I’ll tell your father what he needs to know.”

Cecily nodded weakly. “Yes, Alric. As you think best.” Then she closed her eyes, tired from even that small effort.

Sara waved the men away. “Let me tend to her. You can speak over there!” She gestured to the table and promptly ignored them.

“Come,” Rainald said. “Let us sit.”

Alric sat at the bench offered to him, while Rainald took the seat at the head of the table.

The older man glared suspiciously at Alric, then said, “Well, my daughter seems to trust you.
As you think best
, she said. So tell me! What strange path has brought you both here?”

Alric took a moment to consider. What should he tell Rainald? What could he trust the man with? Alric had no doubt that the man in front of him
was
the rightful Lord Rainald. However, what was he doing in the middle of the Ardenwood, surrounded by such a dubious collection of souls?

“Let me first explain who I am,” Alric said slowly. “Then it will be easier to explain how we are here.”

Rainald sat back expectantly.

“You don’t remember me,” Alric began, “but I have seen you before. My family holds the manor of Hawksmere, which is not far from Cleobury.”

“My brother’s favorite manor,” Rainald murmured, “the one I gave to him for his use.”

“Yes,” Alric confirmed. “But my father’s family has served the lords de Vere since the Conqueror came to these shores. I was raised to be a knight, and I’d just come to your manor of Aldgate to begin my training. I arrived only a month or so before Aldgate was attacked by bandits and the fire broke out.”

Rainald looked more closely at Alric. “Is that so?”

“I was eleven at the time, my lord,” Alric said. “Of course you wouldn’t know my face.”

“But you
were
there that night, the night of the fire?”

“I was, my lord. You spoke to me. You had just come out from the main hall, into the courtyard. You were looking for your daughter, asking everyone if they’d seen her.”

Rainald’s eyes widened as he remembered the scene. “I asked everyone, but no one had seen her. But a young squire said he knew where she might be.”

“I was not even a squire yet,” Alric corrected. “But yes, I guessed where she might have gone, and I told you I’d try to find her.”

“Alric of Hawksmere,” Rainald repeated, his expression far away. “You did say so. I remember that. And you must have found her, for here she is now.” Then his eyes focused again. “But why
here
?”

“You know of Malvern Castle?” Alric asked. “And its lord?”

“Yes, I have heard of Pierce,” Rainald said, without much interest. “What has that to do with it?”

“Your brother made an agreement with Pierce for Cecily’s hand.”

“He is of the proper station,” said the older man, considering, “and an appropriate age for Cecily.”

“He’s also a traitor,” Alric said bluntly. “He’s conspiring with the Welsh to allow safe crossing through the mountain pass he controls. In exchange, he will gain some of the lands they intend to seize in the course of their invasion.”

Rainald’s mouth drew into a thin line. “A most serious charge to accuse a nobleman of. Do you have proof?”

“Cecily overheard him speaking to his…liaison. We suspect Theobald is part of the conspiracy as well,” he added.

“What?” Rainald asked angrily. “He’ll disgrace the name of de Vere!”

“He must find the price worth it. He was willing to bargain away Cecily and her inheritance—specifically, the manors she’ll hold—to Pierce. The conspirators hope to use this war between Stephen and Maud as a distraction. By the time the king hears of an invasion, it will be far too late to send an army.”

“That is monstrous,” Rainald muttered. “Theobald has no honor. To think he’d knowingly match my daughter to a traitor.”

“That’s why we took her away from Malvern Castle before the wedding,” Alric said. “Cecily would have gone from pawn to prisoner.”

“How did you manage to escape a castle?” Rainald asked, skeptical again.

Alric explained the flight from the castle, including the plan to split up to hide Cecily from the pursuers. “My men-at-arms took a considerable risk to protect their lady,” he said. “God grant that they haven’t paid too dearly for their loyalty.”

Rainald was still frowning. “Only you accompanied her after you split from the pursuit? Why not more men?”

Alric said, “Though I would prefer Cecily be defended by a whole army, my lord, I could not take too many men from the small force we had. If more than two people left the group, our pursuers would have noticed the split, and followed both groups.”

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