Knights and Kink Romance Boxed Set (68 page)

Robert doubled over, dry-heaved again. This had to
stop. He couldn’t go on like this for another minute. Whatever he
had to do, whatever sacrifices he had to make to make Sabina safe,
he would.

There was only one half-crazy possibility when it
came to getting Sabina out of Tostig’s encampment alive. And that
possibility was Master Cuthbert.

His old friend had already betrayed him once. And he
still had the sack of two hundred fifty crowns too, the bloody
bastard. Cuthbert owed him, dammit.

The first order of business would be to find where
Cuthbert and his pack of outlaws and cattle had disappeared to. And
then, if they didn’t manage to kill each other first, to enlist his
aid.

It was a crazy, half-baked plan if there ever was
one. But it was the only one he had.

Robert dragged himself back to the edge of the
woods, praying that he hadn’t been spotted. He had no idea where
Cuthbert had gone, but he knew that eventually, his old colleague
would have to return to the Cock and Robin. So, that’s where he’d
wait, and hope. And pray.

Chapter
17

As he’d expected, Robert returned to the Cock and
Robin to find it still deserted. But he didn’t have to wait long.
Just as darkness was about to fall, Master Cuthbert rode back into
the compound. And he had plenty of company.

Cuthbert rode Robert’s horse Amir, while he pulled
his own horse along behind him on a leather lead line. A small
gaggle of stable boys and poor-looking peasants in dirty burlap
accompanied him, most of them with three or four dairy cows in tow.
His servant—and spy—Mfwanwy was bound and gagged, and tied facedown
to his spare horse’s saddle. That threw Robert for a loop, so much
so that he almost forgot to draw his sword.

Almost, but not quite. “Stop right there, Cuthbert,”
Robert shouted, putting the business end of his sword three inches
from Cuthbert’s nose. “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”

Master Cuthbert’s one good eye blinked, but he
didn’t even flinch. “You’re right, I do. I’m glad you’re here,
Robert. I was worried I would never get a chance to explain what
happened.”

Robert didn’t back down. He inched his sword point
closer to Cuthbert’s scarred, grizzled face. “I’m listening,” he
said.

“Can’t I get down off my horse first?”

“Correction,” Robert sneered.
“That’s
my
horse
you’re riding. And no, you can’t. And don’t even think about
reaching for your sword or your mace. Any part of you that moves
without my permission is going to get cut off.”

“All right, all right!” Cuthbert cried, freezing
into place. “And I know you well enough to understand you mean what
you say. And I mean what I’m about to say, too. I had the Cock and
Robin cleared out because I knew exactly how you’d react. You’d
make a run for it, and take the lady with you. Which is exactly
what needed to happen to save your necks.”
“What do you mean?”

“My so-called servant girl over there was really a
spy working for Lord Reginald. I caught her sending word to her
superiors that you and the lady were here. I had to get ye out of
here as soon as I could, and I knew you wouldn’t do it unless you
thought I’d betrayed ye. It was the only way to get you out of here
fast enough, without creating too much of a scene.”

“Oh, you created a scene, all right,” Robert said,
still keeping his sword arm locked in place. “Believe me.”

“Robert, anybody could see that you weren’t thinking
straight when you showed up here. I couldn’t just tell ye to go,
lad. Ye wouldn’t have listened.” Cuthbert swallowed hard. “Either
that, or ye would have run me through.”

“I could always just run you through right now,”
Robert seethed, though he couldn’t deny that what Cuthbert was
saying made sense.

“That lady of yours has really addled your brain,
lad,” Cuthbert said with a sly grin. “I’ve never known ye to lose
your head over a woman before. Where is she now, anyway?”

“Gone,” he replied. “Captured. Which is why I’m
here. I need your help, Cuthbert.”

Cuthbert laughed. “Well, I’ll be a lot more help to
you when ye get yer bloody sword out o’ my face.”

“Not until you drop all your weapons first,” Robert
growled. “I’ve already been to hell and back today, and I’m not
taking any more chances.”

“Very well,” Cuthbert said. He dropped his sword and
mace to the ground.

Robert didn’t budge. “The dagger, too. And the
stiletto.”

Cuthbert feigned ignorance. “Why, whatever are you
talking about, Robert, lad?”

“The dagger is in your doublet’s inside pocket, and
the stiletto is in your boot,” Robert said, keeping his eyes locked
with Cuthbert’s sole remaining one. “We served in the same
mercenary army, together, remember? I watched you dress and pack
every single day. And I was plenty observant.”

“Fine,” Cuthbert sighed. He pulled the dagger out of
his doublet, then the stiletto from his boot, and dropped both to
the ground. “Only you forgot to mention this.” He reached into one
of the hidden pockets in Amir’s saddle and pulled out a small
throwing axe. “Never leave home without it, lad,” he said with a
chuckle, then dropped it to the ground along with the rest of the
weapons.

“All right,” Robert said. “You can get down from the
horse now. Only keep your hands where I can see them.” He kept his
sword pointed straight at him.

Cuthbert obeyed, but rolled his one good eye. “Isn’t
this a bit o’ overkill, Robert?”

“Not as far as I’m concerned. There’s also the
little matter of the two hundred fifty gold crowns I gave you. I
need that back, please.”

“But Robert! Ye hired me to keep you and the lady
safe, and I did. I earned that fair and square.”

“The lady’s not safe anymore,” Robert said curtly.
“And as far as I’m concerned, that’s mostly your fault.”

“Said Lord Pot to Lord Kettle,” Cuthbert shot back.
“Methinks that perhaps ye aren’t willing to look too closely at
yourself if you believe that, lad.” He jerked his head in Mfanwy’s
direction. “What d’ye propose we do with our friendly neighborhood
Welshwoman? Mfanwy’s her name. And a very crafty bitch she is.” At
the mention of her name, Mfanwy grunted through her gag and pulled
hard against her restraints.

“I already know who she is,” Robert said. “She
belongs to Tostig of York, not Lord Reginald, though it’s likely
she was serving more than one master. My lady was kind enough to
fill me in.”

“And now yer lady’s gone, eh? Quite a
predicament.”

“Yes. And Tostig of York has her.”

Cuthbert blanched white as snow. “Say you
rightly?”

“Yes. I watched the capture take place. My lady
thought she was surrendering to Lord Reginald’s men. So did I. I
didn’t figure out the truth until it was too late.”

“Good God, man. No wonder ye came looking for me.”
He jerked his head in Mfanwy’s direction yet again. “I was planning
to kill her at first, but I thought she might be useful as a
hostage,” he said. “Seems to me I was right.” He glanced at
Robert’s sword point again. “D’ye trust me yet? I’d really
appreciate it if ye’d stop tryin’ to kill me.”

Robert finally let his guard down, and replaced his
sword into his belt. “I trust you,” he said. “But only as far as I
can throw you.”

Cuthbert scoffed. “Ye can’t throw me very far, lad.
I’m twice your size.”

“Exactly. Now that we both know where we stand, how
are we going to rescue Sabina?”

“Well, that depends. How many men d’ye figure Tostig
has?”

“He’s got quite an encampment, laid out in the Norse
fashion. I estimate he’s got at least five thousand, maybe
more.”

Cuthbert choked.
“
Five thousand?
The only able-bodied fighters we’ve got is you an’ me. You
an’ me ‘gainst five thousand?”

“Unless you have a better idea, yes.”

Cuthbert reached inside his doublet, and pulled out
the black velvet pouch containing the two hundred fifty crowns. He
tossed it at Robert’s feet. “Well, ye can have that back, lad.
Bein’ as it’s gonna be next to impossible for me to do anything to
help ye.”

“Come on, Cuthbert. We went it alone against plenty
of big armies when we were in Sir Walter’s employ.”

“Aye, an’ that was more’n ten years ago, lad. I’m a
mite bit older now. An’ rather outa practice in the fighting
department, I’m afraid. I came to the Cock and Robin to retire from
the mercenary life, y’know.”

“Retired, eh? Is that why you carry at least five
different weapons on your body at once?”

“Ye can never be too careful, Robert. I’ve made
quite a few enemies in my life.”

“You’re going to make another one in a hurry if you
don’t agree to help me.”

Cuthbert sighed and shook his head. “All right,
fine. ‘Tho I don’t think we stand a heathen’s chance in Heaven of
accomplishing anything ‘sides getting ourselves killed, lad.”

“Well, I’ve never known you to be afraid of death,
Cuthbert. And what better way to get killed than defending a lady’s
honor?”

Cuthbert thought about that for a moment. Then in a
wild gesture that Robert remembered from their time together under
Sir Walter the Penniless, the huge old Yorkshireman pounded his
chest, stomped his feet, and roared like a lion. “Aggghhhhh! Bring
on the enemy! For Master Cuthbert of the Four Winds has a sword
that’s thirsty for blood and gold!”

“That’s more like it,” Robert said, clapping his old
friend on the back. All was mended between them from then on. “Now
all we need is a plan.”

“We need a sight more than that, lad. We need a
bloody miracle.”

****

Sabina stared up into Tostig of York’s glacierlike
eyes, her whole body quaking with fear. There was evil in those
eyes the likes of which she’d never seen—not even from Lord
Reginald. There was desire in them too—and exactly the wrong kind.
“W-who are you?” she stammered.

“I, milady, am Tostig of York, son of Tostig
Godwinson, who was brother to King Harald and his only heir.
Therefore, I am rightful King of England. I am here to take back
what is mine.” His gaze passed up and down Sabina’s body,
paralyzing her. “Starting with you.”

“I am not yours to take,” she snarled. “I belong
to—someone else.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that,” Tostig sneered. “But I’ve
never been one to pay much attention to chattel claims, whether
they apply to lands, cattle, or women. On the contrary, I subscribe
to the ‘finders keepers’ philosophy. I’ve found you, and I intend
to keep you. At least until you begin to bore me. Or maybe not even
for that long.”

Sabina pulled herself to her feet, and somehow found
the courage to look her captor straight in the face. “Just what do
you intend to do with me?” she snapped, startled by her own
audacity.

Tostig fingered his pointed blonde beard for a
moment, then spoke. “Well, I’m not entirely sure. You are a
spectacular specimen of womanhood, and I would like nothing more
than to sample the full platter of your tasty charms. Though I
think you may be of far more use to me should I keep your chastity
pure. Surely Lord Reginald will not be very willing to negotiate
for you if he knows you have already been spoiled, least of all by
me.”

Sabina flushed. She wondered if it would be at all
prudent to confess that Robert de Tyre had already had the
privilege of spoiling her virtue, but she decided against it.
Surely that information would do little to help her case at this
point. She decided the best course of action was to keep
silent.

That only seemed to please Tostig even more. “Ah,
truly you are a maiden of unspoiled virtue, milady,” he oozed. “At
the mere mention of the possibility, you flush and go quiet as a
mouse. Small wonder Lord Reginald is so taken with you.” He took a
step closer to her, placed an index finger underneath her chin.
“Though I would guess that the feelings are hardly mutual.”

Rather than answer, Sabina looked away.

“I see I have touched a nerve. I wonder why you ran
away at all, milady. Perchance has another man captured your heart?
A pity, if that’s so. For a lady of your station doesn’t have the
luxury of falling in love. Love is a potion for the lower classes,
milady. People of power, of position are above it. Kings are not
born and bred of love, but of carefully planned and managed
breeding.”

Tostig was a perceptive one, all right. Perceptive
and powerful. Whatever he said cut right to the bone. Small wonder
he’d been able to mass such an army, and stood as good a chance as
anyone to overthrow the Normans once and for all. What chance did
Sabina really stand against such a man? None. What were the chances
that anyone—even Robert de Tyre—would dare attempt to rescue her
from his clutches? Again, none.

Sabina had no more time to contemplate such matters.
Before she could flutter an eyelash, Tostig grabbed her by both
arms and forcibly dragged her inside his tent. She screamed,
cursed, kicked, and bit, all to no avail. He tossed her into a
wooden chair, then proceeded to tie her to it. She tried to fight,
but he was far bigger and stronger. In moments her arms and legs
were splayed outward, tied to the chair’s armrests and legs. Sabina
felt horribly exposed—if Tostig wanted to have his way with her,
she would have no way to stop him. She grit her teeth and braced
herself for what was surely to come. “Please, get it over with
quickly,” she pleaded, wrenching her eyes shut tight.

“Milady, you misunderstand me. I have absolutely no
intention of abusing you in such a manner. At least, not yet. You
are of far more use to me as a pure maiden.” He paused to lightly
caress her cheek. “Though if you fail to prove useful to me as a
bargaining chip, all bets are off.”

Sabina bit her lip. That didn’t exactly make her
feel safe. She had less and less faith that Lord Reginald would do
anything to protect her now. She hadn’t exactly been a good
fiancée, after all. And she could forget about Robert doing
anything to save her, too. She’d abandoned her beloved in the
forest, and he had done nothing whatsoever to keep her from
going.