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Authors: Elizabeth Elliott

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BOOK: The Dark Knight
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They started forward and the horses’ hooves striking the ground sounded unnaturally loud yet felt impossibly slow, as if they were marking the steps to a disaster. Avalene
kept her head down and stared at the reins in her hands, counting their horses’ steps, wondering if she would have the courage to charge the gates if they were ordered to halt. Fortunately, the captain happened to be at the gates as they approached. He held up one hand to acknowledge them, and then waved to the gatekeepers to let them pass without question.

She finally released the breath she had been holding when the crisp clatter of their horses’ hooves changed to muffled beats as they crossed the wooden bridge over the moat. The stiff set of her shoulders began to relax in slow degrees as they made their way through the village and started to pass the fields that surrounded the castle. Another mile along this road and then they would be out of sight from the guards on the walls. Once that happened, they could make their way through the forests until they reached the road to London.

“You did very well in the bailey,” Percival said at last, in a normal tone of voice. There were a few peasants working in the fields and tending the flocks of sheep, but none were close enough to overhear them. However, they were still in plain sight so they rode side by side on the road at a deliberately easy pace, as if they were simply enjoying the warm morning sun and the vistas of the pastoral fields of sheep and ripening crops on their way to the hunt. “Do you think anyone suspects that something is amiss?”

“Nay, but I would have given away some hint had you not stopped me from calling cook’s wife over to say good-bye.” She looked into his face, and then couldn’t look away. “How did you know?”

“I have been watching you all morning,” he said, “waiting for you to betray your emotions in some way. You gave a little sigh just as you tried to raise your hand to call the woman back to your side. Otherwise, I am
impressed. You have made this part of our escape easier than I had dared hope.”

There was an odd feeling in her chest when she thought about Percival paying such close attention to her that he noticed something as insignificant as a sigh.

“We are not safe quite yet,” she pointed out, with a glance over her shoulder. The walls of Coleway still towered behind them, and a group of soldiers loitered near the drawbridge. She shivered once, and then turned her attention forward again. “The path that leads to the hunting lodge is just over the crest of the hill. I took the path in the opposite direction only once and never rode very far, but I know it will eventually lead to the old Roman road to London. ’Tis about an hour’s ride through the old Hamlet Forest, although I am not entirely certain I can find my way.”

“I know the way,” he said. “If you will recall, last night I mentioned that one of my men awaits us along the Roman road and two more will join us on the morrow. I hoped we would be leaving the fortress on our own and you know why I did not want to complicate matters by bringing my men within the walls of Coleway. We will not outnumber any search party. Still, I will feel better when we have a few more swords to protect our backs.”

She had not forgotten those details. They were simply pushed to another part of her mind while she concentrated on the part of their escape that involved getting past scores of soldiers and avoiding the hunting party. Oddly enough, now that they were in the very midst of the most dangerous part of their plan, she felt only the smallest sense of urgency. Something about Sir Percival put her at ease, as if they truly were on their way to the hunt. It was a most unusual feeling, since she was accustomed to worrying about and managing everything
and everyone around her. It occurred to her that she was now the one being managed. Not manipulated, as John had often tried to do, but managed, easily and efficiently. Sir Percival’s calm manner assured her that he could handle any problems that arose.

He tilted his head to one side. “Why are you looking at me that way?”

“I am just thinking how remarkable my life has become in so short a time.” She surprised herself by smiling in genuine delight, certain now that they were going to make it to freedom, unconcerned about what might await her tomorrow or the next day, as long as she had Sir Percival by her side. Already his presence felt familiar and safe, even though she scarcely knew the man. She had not slept at all after he left her chamber, but she did not feel the least bit tired. Her body felt tense and ready for flight, yet at the same time, forced into a false state of calm. She probably looked a fright from worry and lack of sleep. Sir Percival looked perfect, relaxed and well-rested, as if he were, indeed, off to participate in a hunt. “I still do not understand why you volunteered to come to my rescue.”

His mouth tightened in what she was beginning to recognize as impatience. “Your father suspected that the announcement of your betrothal to Faulke Segrave would set acts in motion against you that would ruin his plans for an alliance. I have a talent for finding my way out of difficult situations, and I could not stand idly by while my liege lord’s daughter was about to be endangered. Do you doubt my honor, or are you finding new reasons to doubt me?”

“Nay,” she said quickly, “I would never cast doubt on a knight’s honor. I just feel very strange, as if this is all some dream that I am watching from a safe distance while it happens to someone else. I suppose I should be
frightened and anxious, or perhaps I should be teary-eyed and hysterical, as you feared I would be. Instead I feel numb. None of this seems real.”

A strange expression crossed his face, and he seemed engaged in some private debate about whether or not to say something more on the subject. At last his mouth quirked downward and he released a brief sigh. “ ’Tis not uncommon to feel as you do when your life changes very quickly. I experienced similar emotions just after my parents died. Later I realized that I could not recall what had happened during the weeks right after their deaths, that I was missing entire days; I had gone through the motions of my daily life, and nothing all that traumatic happened during those particular days, but I still have no memory of what occurred.”

“Oh, I am so sorry to hear about your parents,” she murmured. And she truly was sorry for his loss. However, her situation hardly compared. No one had died, and she was actually relieved to be leaving Coleway, even under these circumstances. She felt as if a great burden had been lifted from her shoulders.

“It was long ago,” he said, “and fortunately my brother took good care of me. Or, perhaps I let myself drift away because I knew my brother would take care of me. Either way, you can be assured that I will guard you just as diligently as my brother guarded me, my lady.”

“I feel very fortunate that my father chose you to protect me,” she said with sincerity. She was touched that he had shared a painful part of his past with her. “How old were you when your parents died? That is, if you do not mind my asking.”

He tilted his head to look upward as he considered her question, as if he would find the answer in the sky. She found herself fascinated with the play of muscles in his neck, how just that part of him could look so masculine.
“I was nearly grown, thirteen or fourteen summers. I cannot recall for certain.”

“Were you already fostered with a family to train for knighthood,” she asked, “or did relatives take you in?”

He gave her an odd look, and then shook his head. “I was not fostered, nor were there relatives to turn to for help. Indeed, my situation was not entirely different from your own.”

“Truly?”

“I did not have an aunt and uncle plotting to force me into a marriage,” he said, “but there were a few similarities.”

“How so?” she asked, too curious to care if he thought her rude.

He rode on a few paces before he answered, and then he spoke without pause, his words toneless. “An uncle by marriage seized everything that my father owned as soon as my parents died. My brother and sister and I were turned off our own lands within days. We were hard-pressed to survive those first few years until … until your father took us in. Now I can make certain my liege lord’s daughter does not fall prey to another nefarious uncle and his henchman. I will do whatever is necessary to make certain you are free of John and Lord Brunor.”

“I am grateful for your loyalty,” she said quietly. Her words caused something to flare in his eyes, but he looked away before she could be certain of its meaning. Assuming he was uncomfortable with his reminiscence, she deliberately said nothing more about his painful childhood. “I have no doubts that you will defend me with your life. With any luck, we will not encounter any trouble on our journey and your willingness to defend me will not be put to the test. How long do you think the journey will take from here to London?”

She saw him take a deep breath and then release it. “The journey should take a week, no more than two,” he answered. “It all depends upon the weather and the roads, as well as any detours we might take to avoid search parties.”

Last night he had explained that they would be safest if they took a ship from London to Wales. Although such a route would be much longer, her father’s castle stood along the Welsh coastline and there were fewer dangers in making the journey by ship rather than overland through the wilderness from Coleway with their small band. Few if any of the search parties would follow since they would assume Sir Percival would ride directly west toward Weston Castle. The odds of being caught would fall significantly once they put a few miles between themselves and Coleway.

“Have you been to London before?” she asked.

“Aye,” he said slowly. “London is familiar to me. I am often there on business for your father.”

“Is London really as large as they say?” she asked. Dozens of questions about their journey had come to mind since he had announced their destination last night. “Can you really not see from one end of London to the other, even from the highest tower in the city? Are there really as many people living in the city as there are in all the whole of England? Is it true you could live the whole of your life in London and not know everyone who lived there?”

“ ’Tis hard to know which question to answer first,” he said with a chuckle. Her own spirits felt lighter now that his somber expression had disappeared. “London will be like nothing you have ever seen, on a scale you can scarcely imagine. It would be hard to find a tower or steeple within the heart of the city where you could see the whole of the city, but there is countryside beyond the
walls. You definitely cannot see its ends by looking across the city from any of its gates. Perhaps one of the church bell towers would offer such a view, but I have not put the matter to the test. As to there being as many people living in London as there are in the rest of England, the crowded streets certainly give rise to that impression but it is just that; an impression. And I believe it would be entirely possible to live your life without meeting everyone who lives in London. There is no place for everyone to gather at one time as there is in a castle. There are tall houses in vast numbers, dozens of churches, guildhalls, and public squares. Then there are the palaces of the noblemen, which are like small cities within their own walls when their nobles are in residence. The king’s palace within the Tower of London is the grandest palace of all. There are people within the Tower walls who never venture into the city.”

“Have you been to the king’s palace?” she asked. “Have you been to the Tower?”

He had, and proceeded to describe both places in quite satisfactory detail. Then he went on to tell her about the grand churches, the market streets, the docks, and dozens of other places that sounded strange and wonderful; theaters and zoos, pavilions and parks.

“I cannot wait to see the entire city!” she exclaimed. “Will we have time to explore London before we set sail for Wales? That reminds me. Have you ever been on a ship before? This will be my first voyage. I have heard that people sometimes become ill from the sway—”

Sir Percival held up one hand to halt her questions even as he reined in his horse. “We are beyond sight of the guards at Coleway.”

She glanced over her shoulder and realized with a start that he was right; they had crested the hill and the walls of Coleway were no longer visible. She had been
so fascinated with his stories of London that she had almost forgotten the precariousness of their situation. Almost, but not quite. She nodded toward the path that led to the Roman road. “The trail is not wide enough to ride side by side. Do you want me to lead or follow?”

“Lead,” he said decisively. “I will be able to keep an eye on you and will have your back should anyone ride up behind us. In the unlikely chance that we encounter anyone from the hunt or anywhere else, simply tell them we were uncertain where to look for the group. Once they trust that nothing is amiss, I will deal with them. However, my man has been keeping an eye on this route from the Roman road. ’Tis unlikely we will encounter anyone.”

She wanted to ask him more questions about London, but there would be plenty of time in the coming days to satisfy her curiosity. Instead she gave him a brisk nod, then turned her horse and set a fast pace. At last, she was on the road that would lead to her new life.

Avalene tilted her head back and closed her eyes as her horse entered a small clearing. The morning sun felt warm on her face, her horse held a comfortable gait, the pleasant smell of pine and moss filled the forest, birds chirped and squirrels chattered. This was not such a bad way to spend a day. Indeed, she was looking forward to the entire journey. London had been an intriguing mystery to her for as long as she could remember. The opportunity to see the great city was something she had never allowed herself to hope for. Now she began to daydream about what London would look like and all the wondrous sites she would see. Perhaps there would be a—

“My lady!”

Avalene’s eyes popped open at the sound of Sir Percival’s voice and she drew her horse to a halt. She glanced around her but saw nothing out of the ordinary, so she waited until he rode up next to her, marveling again that this perfect male was her escort, her protector. “What is wrong, Sir Percival?”

BOOK: The Dark Knight
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