Seize The Dawn (34 page)

"We are away from the rabble in the village. You are ready to continue the king's war against the savage forest rabble in Scotland. I am freeing you from this duty."

"She will not flee," Fitzgerald said, still watching Brendan. "Sir Corbin of Clarin will be sliced to ribbons should she make such an attempt."

"That is not the king's justice!" Eleanor cried.

"Aye, lady, but it will keep you in your place."

Brendan dismounted, as if to lead his horse to drink. Eleanor had not dismounted. He prayed she would not do so. He approached Fitzgerald, aware that everyone watched as he did so.

"This is not the command I was given."

"I am in command now, and I am telling you—you are no longer needed."

He stared at Fitzgerald, buying time. "The way you speak, sir, I fear for the lady's chances of reaching London—and a trial to establish her innocence or guilt."

By that time, Eric had come behind Fitzgerald. He didn't draw a sword, he had a knife at Fitzgerald's throat. The blade brushed along the man's vein.

The sheriff's men had gone for their weapons; however, they must have quickly seen their disadvantage. Only one made a move, and Fitzgerald was quick to shout out, "Hold, you fool! This fellow has my life in his hands!"

"A wise assessment," Brendan advised. "Drop your swords."

The sheriff's men stood hesitantly. Their eyes moved furtively to Fitzgerald's. There was something wrong with the entire situation, Brendan judged, but at the moment, he hadn't the time to ferret out the Englishman's motives.

"You are interfering with the king's justice!" Fitzgerald raged, his eyes rolling from side to side as he tried to see the man who so threatened his existence.

"Am I the one interfering?" Brendan inquired. "Or had you appointed yourself judge and jury, sir? Did you intend for the lady to reach London for trial?"

"Don't be a fool! I am allowing you to follow the king's orders."

"Well, you see, as it is, I don't follow the king's orders. Have your men drop their weapons. Now. Or you'll die before a fight can begin."

"Have your berserker lower the knife now, Humphry, or I swear, I'll see you hanging by the neck," Fitzgerald warned Brendan.

"I doubt the king is aware of any of this business, Fitzgerald," Brendan said. "But that is no matter. Collum, give a hand there, if you will—see that they are good strong knots in the rope—we don't want our friends leaving the peace and the serenity of the stream too soon. Gregory, seize up a few of the swords if you will."

"For treason, sir," Fitzgerald grated, "they hang you first, rack you, wait until you're half dead, bring you back to life, castrate you, and rip your guts out, and then, only then, do they end the pain by axing off your head."

"Aye, I'm aware of the method," Brendan said. "Perhaps you could tighten that knife, Eric, he seems to have too much room to wag his tongue."

"See here," Corbin protested at last. He had been seated on his mount, silent, and bewildered throughout the proceedings. "I believe in Eleanor's innocence, but Sir Humphry, you will face the king's wrath—"

"What do we do with him?" Liam demanded.

"Leave him," Collum suggested bluntly. "Sir, you'll dismount—"

"No!" Eleanor cried suddenly. She didn't understand Fitzgerald's motives any more than he, but she seemed to realize that she wouldn't have made it to London in his care. "You can't leave Corbin with these men."

"He's one of us!" Fitzgerald said fiercely. "Whomever you may—be." He squeaked the last as Eric once again put pressure on the knife.

"You cannot leave him!" Eleanor repeated, her blue-gray eyes fiercely upon Brendan's.

She was right.

"Ach, man! " Liam protested. "We're already riding with a woman—begging your pardon, Lady Eleanor—and her skinny maid—"

"
Aye, does that mean I can speak me ' French now?" Hagar asked.

"Corbin, these men will kill you, don't you see?" Eleanor told him. "They didn't intend for us to get to London!"

"Why, 'tis all true then, isn't it?" Fitzgerald mocked. "The lady of Clarin, turned to the Scots, slays her husband for her forest dog of a lover!"

"Time to ride," Gregory suggested, collecting the last of the swords. The Englishmen stood by the water, unharmed other than the confiscation of the weapons, and each man with his hands tied at his back.

"You'd leave us so?" asked one of them.

"Someone will come upon you soon enough," Collum advised, mounting his horse. "We've left you with plenty of water," he said with a shrug.

"He'll cause no trouble," Brendan repeated, and the man fell silent. "That is nearly it, then." He strode by Liam's horse, collecting the last feet of rope with which to bind Fitzgerald's hand. "Sir? If you will be so kind."

"Hadn't you asked for it already?" Brendan suggested, his warning whisper at the man's nape. "You did intend to kill the Lady Eleanor."

Fitzgerald offered his hands behind his back. Brendan tied his wrists together securely, and too tightly. Eric, at last, moved his knife, walked to his horse, and mounted.

He stood in front of Fitzgerald. "You owe the lady," he said softly. "I know a treacherous snake when I see one, sir. I would have killed you."

"Indeed. I think it's a mistake not to kill you, but ... she doesn't like bloodshed." Brendan stepped away, mounting his horse. "Eric, take the lead, please, and briskly, I think."

"Your name isn't Humphry, bastard!" Fitzgerald hissed in fury, drenched, water falling into his eyes.' 'What is your name? I'd know it—for the day I gut you!"

Brendan set a rapid pace. It was doubtful that the Englishmen would be found for some time, but if they were, there would be no place else the Scots were heading except north, and so it was necessary to get as far as possible as quickly as possible without killing the horses.

Corbin caused no trouble, but rode in a grim silence.

Despite the distance—and the fact that the English did have a strong hold on the lowlands—crossing the border sent them back into the terrain they knew so well, and where they were able to disappear from the road, melting into the trees like spring snow.

They stopped only once more to water the horses and they slowed the gait, but kept moving, until late in the night. Brendan was determined to reach the ruins of an old Roman fortification, rebuilt by Scots, abandoned, rebuilt again by the English, then abandoned in the days after Falkirk when the English had been so proud of their victory—and so unaware that the fight was still going on.

The walls hid horses and men from the road. There was cover from the elements, and even some old comforts left behind, blankets, rickety chairs, uneven tables, and even a keg or two of ale. They had carried food, taken along on one of the sheriff's descriers, a warhorse turned pack animal for the journey.

When they dismounted, it was agreed that they would take the night in two shifts, and leave again to travel further north by first light. Eric had suggested that they ride until they reach the fortification they had taken from the Englishman Hebert; it was under the control of their own men now, and manned and able to withstand a long assault or siege.

The horses were first secured with their treasure of arms and weapons, then Eric chose Liam and de Longueville to take the first shift with him.

Brendan entered what was once the great hall of the ruin, and saw that Gregory was unpacking loaves of bread, cheese, and dried meat. Bridie helped him.

Eleanor was deep in conversation with Corbin.

Her conversation broke off when he entered.

Corbin saw him first, set his hands on Eleanor's shoulders, and passed her to stand before him. "It seems I must thank you first. It is difficult to believe, and I'm not sure that I do believe—a man of Fitzgerald's stature would have dared keep my cousin from the courts. He'd had to have slain me to do so, and explaining both of us dead would not be easy."

Brendan didn't answer him at first; he walked to the table, taking a skin of ale, and drinking until the road dust seemed at last to settle in his throat. He set down the skin, addressing Corbin.

"There would have been no difficulty. He would have said that Eleanor tried to run. In his story, he would have said that she garbled out some confession. Naturally, you, being her kin, would have come to her defense. They would have been deeply sorry, but you would have died as well."