'Tom and I were going back to the cottage,' George continued, 'when we came across Master James. Lying at the bottom of a small slope, he were, where he'd rolled, and lucky to be there, for he'd been thrown out of the way of the rest. There were another man there, but he was worse, and after Tom had carried Master James to the cottage he sent me to fetch you, saying he'd go back to see if the other were still alive, though he doubted it. Tom said he were too badly hurt.'
Drusilla was asking more questions to try and discover whether James had any other injuries, when suddenly a man stepped from behind some bushes, brandishing a sword. Drusilla's mare reared at the unexpected apparition, and though Drusilla contrived to keep her seat, George slid to the ground.
'I'll take the horse,' the man said curtly. 'Down you get, my girl!'
He had grasped the reins, and though Drusilla struggled, she was no match for him and he soon pulled her to the ground. She struck at him with the whip she carried, but the slight cut she inflicted merely angered him. Twisting the reins about one arm, he seized Drusilla and pulled her to him.
'You're a tasty armful, and no mistake. I like spirited lasses,' he commented, and bent to kiss her.
Struggling to evade him, she screamed, but he chuckled and tightened his grip.
'They're all too busy or too dead to care,' he said callously. 'Have pity on a poor soldier! Two weeks it is I've been fighting or marching, and barely a glimpse have I had of a cuddlesome wench like you! Now I've got me a fresh horse to carry me away from this plaguey town, I'll take some pleasure first, whether you will or no!'
At that moment, George, rising from his tumble, came rushing to Drusilla's assistance, but the man kicked out at him and with a yelp of pain George fell to the ground, winded. Dragging Drusilla with him, the man contrived to hitch the mare's reins to the low branch of a tree, and then he turned to her, surveying her in growing appreciation.
'Aye, you'll be worth stopping for,' he commented, and with a sudden twist of his arm, pulled both Drusilla's hands behind her back. He tied a kerchief round them, and then left her for a moment while he did the same for George, still writhing on the ground from the blow he had received. Then the man came back to Drusilla, and began to drag her, resisting furiously, towards the bushes from which he had first appeared.
Drusilla had been working to free her hands from the somewhat insecurely tied knots that bound them, and just as he reached the bushes she got them free, and with a cry of rage tried to claw at his face. Startled, he backed away, and then, with a savage laugh, seized one arm and twisted it cruelly, laughing louder as Drusilla cried out in agony and almost collapsed to the ground from the excruciating pain.
'I like a fiery wench,' he commented, 'but I'll teach you who's master!'
He had barely finished the words before he gasped with pain himself, and released his hold on Drusilla so suddenly she fell to the ground. Half swooning, she lay for a while feeling sick and dizzy from the pain in her arm, and only slowly realised he had released her. As the mists cleared she thought she could hear the clash of steel upon steel, and harsh breathing. She cautiously opened her eyes, and through the screen of the bushes behind which she was lying saw two figures hotly engaged in a fight.
*
She could distinguish little, for she was still dizzy, but the taller of the two figures seemed to be gaining the advantage, and was gradually driving the other further away from the bushes. Suddenly Drusilla heard a rustling of the bushes behind her, and turned, fearful of what it might be. To her relief she saw George crawling towards her, a cheeky grin on his face.
'Let's get the horse and go,' he whispered. 'They'll be too busy fighting over 'ee to notice, and the horse is tethered the far side of the bushes from them.'
'Are you badly hurt?' Drusilla asked, her own senses gradually returning.
'Just winded,' he replied. 'I managed to wriggle out of the twine, for he's not very good at tying knots!' he whispered with a low chuckle. 'Come on!'
She began to crawl after him, and the sounds of the conflict behind them grew fainter. They came to the edge of the bushes and she looked up to see her mare only a few yards away, another horse standing quietly beyond. Unsteadily, she rose to her feet, and took a few faltering steps forwards, at the same time as a scream of agony from behind caused her to turn and almost lose her balance so that she clutched wildly at George who had come to help her.
George peered through the bushes, and reported one of the men was on the ground.
'He's dead, for sure,' he whispered. 'The other's sword was right through him. But we'd best be away, lest he wants the horse, too!'
Making what haste she could, Drusilla walked unsteadily across the intervening yards, so short and yet so apparently great a distance, George holding her arm and urging her in a low voice to hurry, as he watched over his shoulder to see what was happening, fearful the victor of the fight would soon appear to claim the horse.
With a gasp of relief, Drusilla reached the mare and clung to her mane, while the mare, puzzled at these strange doings, nuzzled gently at her shoulder. George was urging Drusilla to put her foot in his cupped hands in order to mount when he suddenly spun round, fists raised, at the sound of a voice behind him.
'There's no haste, lad, I'm here to help you.'
Incredulous, Drusilla looked up, and released her hold on the mare, taking a few faltering steps forward.
'Randal! Oh, Randal, thank God!' she gasped, and would have fallen had he not stepped quickly forward to catch her in his arms.
Chapter 10
'What the devil are you doing here at a time like this?' Randal demanded, in so furious a tone Drusilla swallowed her tears of relief and drew away from his arms which were supporting her.
'James is hurt!' she explained in a low voice. 'He – he was asking for me, and George came to fetch me!'
'And have you so little sense you attempt to cross a battlefield almost before the battle is concluded, with no more protection than that of a child!'
'I'm nigh on twelve!' George interposed indignantly, but was totally ignored.
'I did not realise it would be – like this!' Drusilla stammered. 'But James needed me, and I had to come, whatever the risks!'
'If he sent for you he is a fool!' Randal declared. 'He must have been aware of the dangers.'
Suddenly Drusilla became angry. She was still suffering from the pain after the attack on her, and for Randal to be angry with her when they so unexpectedly met again was more than she could bear. She had repeatedly told herself she would never see him again, that he would marry Mary Percy, and there was no hope for her, but in her secret dreams she had imagined some enchanted world where the difficulties would be swept away, and he would come to her, Mary Percy no longer mattering to him, and she would discover he loved her after all. The reality of their meeting, in the aftermath of the battle, with death and violence, blood and anguish all about her, and Randal speaking so harshly, caused her to wrench herself away from him, and speak quickly.
'I do not see what business it is of yours, Sir Randal, that I go to my brother when he is in need! You have no control over my actions! I thank you for intervening and rescuing me from that villain, but I cannot think I shall meet with other such affronts, and so I will bid you farewell. Doubtless you wish to return to your friends!'
His lips twitched, and thinking he laughed at her, Drusilla flung up her head and walked as steadily as her still shaking legs could carry her across to where her horse was waiting.
'Then I will escort you,' Randal said, ignoring her remarks. 'Where is your brother?'
'I need no more escort than George!' Drusilla returned, furious with herself for being unable to control her trembling.
'George shall ride your horse and lead the way,' Randal said firmly, and before Drusilla realised what he was about he had seized her round the waist and flung her up on to the pommel of his own saddle. Before she recovered her breath he had swung himself up behind her and was holding he
r in a firm grip.
George, his mouth agape, was uncertain whether to plunge to Drusilla's aid or not, but as the tall man seemed to be known to Drusilla, and did not appear to offer any immediate threat to her safety, he merely watched and waited.
'Where is Mr Matthews?' Randal asked him curtly.
'In our cottage, yonder,' George gulped, pointing along the bottom of the slopes.
'Good, then mount Mistress Drusilla's horse and lead me there,' he was ordered, and hastened to obey.
Drusilla remained silent after a brief moment of resistance, when Randal's arm had tightened uncomfortably about her.
She knew, when her anger cooled, she should not have ridden alone, and she was thankful for the security of Randal's protection. Besides, she secretly admitted to herself, there was a bitter sweet emotion in being so close to her beloved, even when he did not love her and held her angrily.
*
George picked his way along the foot of the hills, and Drusilla looked in horror at the scene of destruction. Men and horses lay sprawled over the slopes, many dead, others suffering from broken limbs. Already Royalist troopers were moving amongst the carnage, putting injured horses out of their misery, taking prisoner and helping away the wounded Roundheads, and leaving until later the men who could not be helped.
She assumed it was work of that nature which had brought Randal to the spot, but did not dare to ask him, he looked so stern and forbidding when she glanced through her lashes at him.
They rounded the main bulge of the hills, and began to climb up the more gentle slopes, cutting across the base of the hill until George turned his horse into a trackway leading gradually upwards to the downs. This was an old sheep road, and far easier to negotiate for man and beast than the more precipitous slopes they had passed. After another mile or so George turned off the main track and led them along a scarcely visible path down into a sheltered hollow where the old cottage, which had stood for many generations, hid amongst a tangle of stunted trees and dense bushes.
They halted and George called a greeting which brought Tom to the door. He looked enquiringly at Randal, and then turned to nod to Drusilla.
'Go in to him. I will wait here to escort you home, or otherwise assist you,' Randal said abruptly, the first words he had spoken since lifting Drusilla on to his horse. 'You need not inform your brother I am here, for fear he thinks I intend to take him for ransom. None shall hear of his presence from me.'
Drusilla looked at him quickly, and contrived a tremulous smile, then she slipped down to the ground and followed Tom into the dark interior of the cottage.
*
As her eyes grew accustomed to the semi-darkness, she saw James lying in a corner on a pile of straw which was covered with a couple of fleeces. His eyes were closed and his face taut with pain, and he had thrown off the rough blanket which had been over him. His leg was strapped to a long straight branch, and his head bound with blood-stained rags. Tom crossed to the rough couch and beckoned, smiling reassuringly.
'He is weak, Mistress Drusilla, but will soon recover.'
James opened his eyes wide at these words, and looked across at his sister. Drusilla, forgetting all their disagreements, ran to kneel beside him and take his hand in hers.
'Poor James, but thank heaven Tom found you! He knows what to do!'
'I have set the bone, Mistress, but methinks 'twere best to get Mr James home as soon as can be arranged, for I cannot give him the nursing he needs,' Tom said quietly.
'Of course he cannot be left here to incommode you!' Drusilla said swiftly. 'I will make arrangements as soon as I may. Why did you not send for my father? He could have done this at once.'
'I wished to see you – Jacob wanted it, but it was too late!'
'Jacob?' Drusilla asked, peering about her in some anxiety. 'James, what is this? Is he here? Is this some ruse?'
'The other man was called Jacob,' Tom explained quietly.
'Everyone fled,' James said with a groan. 'It was shameful! Runaway Hill, it will be called! I tried to ride down by the old sheep road, knowing the rest of the hillside too steep, and Blagrave was with me. He had met the army and decided to stay with us and fight, instead of attempting to return to Reading. It was odd, his wishing to leave Devizes at precisely that time, and I did not rightly understand his explanation,' James said with a frown.
'Never mind that,' Drusilla said softly, thinking to herself Mr Blagrave must have felt intensely chagrined at having fallen in with Waller and been forced to partake in the fighting. 'What then happened?'
'Some of Hazelrig's Lobsters came pelting down after us, mad with terror, and taking no care, so when one of the devils lost his footing we all rolled down in a heap. I was fortunate, for I was in the front and thrown clear, but Blagrave was crushed as they rolled over him. They had such heavy armour, you see, they could scarce move,' he explained.
'Yes, so I have been told,' Drusilla nodded. 'Where is he?'
'We lay there for some time, unable to move, and by great good fortune Tom found us. He brought me here, but when he returned for Blagrave it was too late.'
'He was too badly wounded, Mistress, and bled inside,' Tom said gently. 'Your brother wished us to bring his friend here first, but I could see it would not serve, and indeed he was dead when I went again.'
'I – I am sorry for him,' Drusilla said, unable to feel any emotion other than horror at the manner of his death, but James shook his head swiftly.
'He – he may have deserved it!' he jerked out. 'Drusilla, I have been so wrong! He confessed to me when we lay there and it seemed we both would die.'
'Confessed? What did he have to confess?' she asked, puzzled.
'I'll prepare some broth,' Tom said, discreetly moving away to busy himself over a cauldron simmering above the fire at the far side of the room.
'That tale he told me, that Sir Randal Thornton had hired men to attack Elizabeth, was untrue.'
'Of course it was!' she said indignantly. 'Randal – Sir Randal would not behave so despicably!'
'For you that might have been as difficult to believe as the truth is for me!' he exclaimed. 'I could not have credited it had Blagrave not told me himself!'
'What did he tell you?'
James sighed, and seemed unwilling to meet Drusilla's eye.
'It was indefensible,' he said slowly, 'but I believe the man was desperate. You are too beautiful, my dear, and should have been safely wed long ago!'
'What do you mean?'
'Blagrave was enamoured of you, and terrified he would lose you to Sir Randal. He confessed he hired the men to attack Sir Randal and kill him. It was never his intention to involve Elizabeth, but he had told the men they might meet with Sir Randal at my house, and they attacked him straight away instead of following him as had been their orders.'
*
Drusilla was staring at him in horror.
'He intended Sir Randal's death? Oh, how monstrous! And then to accuse Sir Randal of such a plan? I had not thought him so evil!'
James sighed. 'As you know, Elizabeth and I were wed by arrangement, although I came to love her deeply afterwards, so much so I was near crazed at the loss of her, so I can understand a little of what he felt!'
'But I had given him clearly to understand I would never wed him!' Drusilla protested. 'It was nought to do with Sir Randal!'
'Blagrave thought that with him disposed of you would turn back to him, for he told me that before Sir Randal appeared you were beginning to favour his suit.'
'I never did so! He deluded himself.' A sudden thought struck her. 'Did he follow us to Thornton Hall and attempt to murder Randal again, when we were riding home?'
'Yes. He guessed where Sir Randal had taken you and followed to Thornton Hall, then again when you set off for home. He told me he was himself there, but remained hidden, intending to intervene only if it seemed the other men could not do the business.'
'So it was Jacob Blagrave who shot me!' Drusilla exclaimed.
> 'I am afraid you have much to forgive me,' James apologised.
'You? For believing he was honest? How could you have known?'
'No, not that,' James said quickly. 'It was our accusations that drove Sir Randal away, that made you refuse him. I cannot tell whether he offered for you merely from a sense of honour. It appears from what I have heard from Blagrave, and the fact he did court considerable danger himself when he took you from Reading, that he might have had some regard for you. In either event I have done you a great wrong, my dear, and when I am better I intend to seek out Sir Randal and attempt to right matters.'
Drusilla was shaking her head in some distress, and both were so deeply absorbed they did not see George slip into the cottage. He had recovered from his resentment at being called a child, and had been admiring Randal's horse and asking shy questions. A sudden realisation that visitors should be offered some hospitality had sent him scurrying into the cottage, and before Drusilla could decide how best to try and dissuade James from the actions he contemplated, George spoke.
'Tom, shall I take Sir Randal some ale?' he asked, and James twisted to look at him so sharply he emitted a gasp of pain as he moved his leg.
*
'Sir Randal? Here?' he demanded.
'Yes, but he intends you no harm!' Drusilla hastened to assure him.
'Harm? I do not understand. How does he come to be here?'
'He was searching for prisoners,' Drusilla explained quickly. 'He – we met as I came with George, and he – insisted on coming with me, but he said he did not propose to hold you to ransom!'
'Then I can speak with him now, and explain. Ransom?' James suddenly asked. 'Why ransom? Oh, the battle! I had almost forgot, thinking of this!'
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