“What do you expect?”
She took a deep breath of forbearance. “You will want to bed me, as well as have the saddlebag returned, and then you will cheat me of the crossbow, for you will declare it unfitting for a mere woman to hold such a weapon. You will leave me soiled and bereft of all I value.” Her lip curled in disdain. “I know how your kind wagers.”
Bartholomew was astonished that she could think so poorly of a stranger and a knight. He looked past the mire and the grubby clothing to the shape of her face and lips, the narrow indent of her waist, and the beguiling flash in her eyes. She had an appeal, to be sure.
But he would prove her assumptions about his nature to be wrong first.
“Here is the trade I will make with you,” he said, keeping his tone reasonable. “I will return the crossbow to you when I have Duncan’s saddlebag returned to me, its contents intact.”
Her lips set. “So, we would have taken the risk for naught at all. Would you not sweeten the offer with a coin or six?”
He eyed the crossbow. “Even in the darkness, I know this is a fine weapon, and it would fetch a good price. Perhaps I should take it to York and sell it.”
“You would not get your bag back then.”
“It sounds as if I will not get it back at any rate. You have drawn out this conversation to ensure that Percy has had plenty of time to reach some refuge.”
Her smile flashed. “I did not think you had the wits to notice.”
“I think you have sufficient wits to know that not all men are the same as the one who taught you such distrust.”
For the first time, she looked both surprised and a little bit uncertain. She eyed Bartholomew with new interest, and her lips parted. He took a step closer, snared by her gaze yet wary of her intent. She stretched out a hand. “Might I borrow your cloak, sir? You were so gracious to lend it to me earlier, and it was warm.”
Bartholomew smiled. “Are you only charming when you desire something?”
She smiled back at him. “Perhaps I have learned one thing from your kind.” She sneezed again, most violently. Bartholomew could not risk her welfare. He swung the cloak from his shoulders and dropped it over hers. She clutched it and shivered beneath its weight. She spared a glance at its fur lining, then eyed him anew. “Are you rich?”
Bartholomew shook his head. “I have a generous friend.”
She cast him a coy glance and might have spoken again. Indeed Bartholomew found himself leaning closer to better hear whatever she might utter.
Then a child screamed in the distance.
They both straightened and stared into the shadows of the forest. Bartholomew noted that his companion was stricken. “Percy!” she whispered, and then she ran in pursuit of the cry.
With his cloak yet upon her back.
Once again she fled, and once again, Bartholomew chased her through the shadows and bracken of the forest. Was this a feint to see him robbed anew? Or was Percy truly in peril?
And what had happened to Duncan’s saddlebag? If any soul looked within it, Bartholomew doubted he would retrieve the relic readily.
If at all.
He could not so betray the trust of Gaston and of the order of the Temple. He had to recapture that bag, no matter what the price.
Even if this defiant wretch of a maiden held the key.
* * *
Percy was panting with terror.
He did not know what had happened to Anna. She was not behind him and he could not hear her at all. He hoped she had taken another path to lead their pursuers astray, just as she usually did.
He ran on, making for the cavern as was their usual plan.
He leapt over a log and flung himself through the forest, then paused. Had he heard sounds of pursuit? Percy leaned back against a large rock for a long moment, letting his heartbeat slow as he listened.
Naught. He was safe.
Anna would follow him soon, but he could take his time reaching the cavern.
After all, he had the prize.
What was it?
Percy licked his lips and hunkered down to unfasten the saddlebag. It was heavy, and he had imagined its contents as he ran. A mound of silver coins. Jewels fit for a king. Even stack of pennies would be welcome. His fingers trembled with cold and excitement as he unfastened the ties. He made a wish, as always he did, and cast back the flap.
Percy’s mouth fell open in astonishment at the sight of the golden item within. What was it? It was as large as his head, maybe larger, studded with gems and covered with writing. He had never seen the like of it.
He might have removed it from the saddlebag, but he heard a sharp intake of breath that revealed he was not alone.
“I will take that,” declared a man, his voice familiar. Gaultier, the baron’s Captain of the Guard, stepped out of the undergrowth, and his smile made Percy feel cold. “I knew you would return when you had made another theft, but this is an exceptional prize.”
“Nay!” Percy cried and clutched the bag as he bolted.
The silhouettes of three more knights blocked his view, and he knew himself to be trapped. Still, he tried to fling himself through their ranks, then kicked and screamed when he was seized. The saddlebag was claimed by Gaultier, while the others trussed him and carried him away.
“Help me!” he roared.
“Please do summon your associates,” Gaultier said smoothly. “I should very much like to see your sister again, if she lives.”
Percy clapped his mouth shut. He did not know what had happened when Anna had been imprisoned, but Gaultier had done her some injury before her escape. He could not cast her into that knight’s power again.
Gaultier chuckled. “So, she does live. I had wondered. We shall search for her on the morrow. Let her have time to realize you are gone.”
The horses had been hidden behind the hill, and Percy was carried easily toward them.
“Hoy there!” Gaultier shouted. “Whoever is allied with this brat can find him in Haynesdale’s dungeon, if you would care to make a bargain for his survival.”
With those words and the knight’s chuckle of satisfaction, Percy had the wits to say no more.
* * *
Not Percy!
Anna knew that her brother would not have cried out without good reason. He was notoriously silent. That ensured he was a good partner, but made his shout doubly troubling.
The cry had come from the direction of the cavern, which was no good portent. He should have met her there and should have been safe.
Had their refuge been discovered?
Or had Percy not reached their sanctuary?
There was only silence after that cry and Anna feared the worst.
As she ran, she had no doubt that the knight would follow her. He was naught but persistent, to be sure. She dared to hope he might actually be useful, but that seemed overly optimistic. At least he managed to move with relative silence, though she could discern him behind her.
She paused to steady her breath when she drew nearer to the cavern. The knight halted behind her, their breath mingling white in the night air. She cast him a quelling glance and touched her fingertip to her lips.
It was an unnecessary warning, for he was already silent. His lips tightened and he reached out, seizing her wrist to keep her from fleeing anew.
Too late she wondered whether she had stepped into a trap.
Then Gaultier shouted, in close proximity, and offered a challenge. “Hoy there! Whoever is allied with this brat can find him in Haynesdale’s dungeon, if you would care to make a bargain for his survival.”
Anna froze and feared for Percy’s fate.
The dark-haired knight watched her with interest. She heard the horses riding through the forest, heading back to Haynesdale. There were four of them by the sound.
Perhaps she could save Percy before he was trapped in the keep. Gaultier and his knights were riding back to the keep by the easiest route and would have a long gallop on the curving road.
Even better, the road was exposed near the village. There was naught she would have liked better than to have taken Gaultier down with an arrow.
Anna eyed her crossbow pointedly.
The knight smiled and held it out of her reach, his eyes glinting with such satisfaction that she yearned to do him injury.
His grip was firm on her wrist, but he did not hurt her. She twisted a little and realized she could not free herself.
He was larger and stronger than she, which was frightening.
She took a breath and leaned closer to him, even though the sound of the horses had faded. “We can cut through the forest to the village, and maybe stop them from entering the keep.”
He nodded once in agreement, awaiting her choice of direction. When she tugged at his grip, he touched the rope hanging from his belt with his other hand, as if inviting her to be trussed like a wild creature. Anna let him see her dislike of that notion and was rewarded by a fleeting smile, one that set her heart leaping despite its brevity.
He was fiercely handsome.
She pointed and he nodded, keeping a grip upon her as they hastened through the woods. There was no visible path, but Anna knew the way, orienting herself by the shape of the land and the location of old trees. The knight did not release her, but neither did he hinder their progress.
Anna halted where the forest thinned near the village, then crept forward to the edge of the shadows.
All was quiet.
All she needed was that crossbow.
How badly did her companion want to retrieve that saddlebag?
Could she make a wager with him?
She watched the knight through her lashes as he peered ahead of them into the shadows. He must have noted the thin trails of rising smoke because his gaze trailed upward. At least some of the villagers were sufficiently awake to have kindled a morning blaze. Anna noted the huts and knew it was Finan the apothecary. Doubtless he and his wife felt the cold more in their later years. Smoke rose from Denley the baker’s abode, as well as that of Cedric the tailor. Both widowers with infant children, they did much to ensure the welfare of their young children. She would have to see if Esme could spare some eggs. Perhaps Regan would trade some cheese for the eggs.
Anna watched the knight beside her inhale, sampling the air, and respected that he gathered information much as she did. His eyes narrowed. Aye, he would smell the pigs and the latrines, as sure a sign of human habitation as there could be.
He met her gaze and lifted a brow in silent query.
Anna edged closer to the road, which was on the far side of the bracken, the knight’s grip fast on her wrist. They hunkered down in the overgrowth, and she knew she was not the only one straining her ears.
Where was Gaultier? The forest was too quiet for all to be right.
She leaned forward to peer down the road. Suddenly there was a flurry of racing hoof beats. Anna recoiled, colliding with the knight. If not for him, she might have fallen backward, but he caught her against his chest with one arm and did not move at all. The hoof beats became louder as Gaultier shouted for the gates to be opened. Anna ducked low with instinctive speed. The knight remained utterly still, his grip tight upon her.
The horses raced past them, not four strides away. Even in the darkness, Anna knew it was Gaultier. She heard the jingle of the knight’s trap and heard his armor, saw the gleam of fine horseflesh and heard the gallop of a destrier.
She saw the golden-haired boy cast across the knight’s lap and struggling.
Percy!
The knight clapped his hand over Anna’s mouth before she could make a sound and ducked lower, fairly tucking her beneath his strength. “Percy?” he whispered in her ear.
Anna nodded vigorously and tried to reach for the crossbow. He kept it out of her reach, even though she did kick him.
“Be silent! There is not a clear shot.”
Anna peered through the growth to realize that he was right. Gaultier rode to the gates of the keep, his men clustered behind him. She could have struck the last one, but his armor might have repelled the arrow at such a distance. It was better to remain unobserved.
Even if she disliked that her captor was right.
“What is this place?” the knight whispered.
“Haynesdale keep.”
He frowned and eyed the keep again, as if he would argue the matter with her. What did a French knight know of her home? “It cannot be,” he murmured. “There is no mill.”
Anna frowned, astonished by his comment.
Why was he here?
What did he care about a mill?
What did his company want in these parts? They must be passing through, but why?
Anna thought furiously, recalling the detail of what she had seen even as the sound of hoof beats faded. Something had bounced behind that last knight in the party, a saddlebag of familiar size and shape, and she knew that Percy’s prize had been claimed, too. What had it been that Gaultier had decided to take Percy as well as the bag? Why would he take the boy to the baron?
Because there was something of import in that bag.
She twisted in the knight’s grip, wanting to see his eyes when he answered her. “What was in the bag?” she demanded, her words as silent as a breath.
“A prize beyond compare,” the knight murmured, his eyes narrowed so that she could not guess his thoughts. “Since you are responsible for its loss, you are going to help me to retrieve it.”
Before she could argue that, he hauled her back into the forest. He still held her wrist and she still wore his cloak. He marched through the undergrowth until they were well away from the village. “Let me go.”
He laughed. “And never see you again. I think not.”
She wrenched her hand free, pulling him off balance, then bent to bite him. His lips thinned and his eyes flashed, but Anna was free. She managed four steps before he caught her from behind. He had unfurled the length of rope and bound her with astonishing speed, securing her within his cloak with her arms trussed against her sides. She might have panicked at his intent, but he knotted the rope around her knees as well, hobbling her so that she could not run.
It also meant that he could not abuse her.
“Fiend,” she snarled as she struggled and wondered at this. “You dropped the crossbow.”
He only grinned. “Into a nice bed of leaves and snow. It is undamaged.” He picked up the crossbow and held it before her to prove his words. He slung it over his back. Then he spun her around, his hand on the back of her neck as they moved deeper into the forest.
“Guide me back to the camp of my fellows, and no trickery,” he commanded. “Speed is of the essence if Percy is to be retrieved before much befalls him.”
As much as Anna would have liked to have defied his command, he spoke good sense. Would he and his fellows truly help to retrieve Percy? She supposed they wanted that prize back.
But she wanted both crossbow and brother.
Anna guessed that this knight’s price might be higher than she would have liked.
Still, she did not have a choice, and he would be the kind to both recognize as much and use it against her.
How she hated knights!
Chapter Two
“Explain your terms to me, clearly,” Anna demanded when they were out of earshot of the village. She thought it better to act as if she were in a position of power than to acknowledge outright that the knight had much advantage.
“Why?”
“Because you and your kind are deceptive,” she said, her tone cross. “I would know your intent before I am of assistance to you, the better to ensure that I am not tricked.”
“You think little of knights.”
“I do.”
“Yet you would make an agreement with me.”
“Aye. I perceive that I have little choice, for I will need aid to retrieve Percy.”
“Have you no other allies?”
She shook her head, choosing not to betray the others in th
e forest, then spared him a backward glance. “If you would treat with a woman.”
He smiled. “Only one who keeps her word.”
“I do!”
“I have no way to know as much. You have promised me naught thus far so owe me naught.” He marched in silence for a moment, as if mustering his argument. “As I see it, we each have something of interest to the other, or have contributed to the loss of something possessed by the other. Together we have a better chance of retrieving both.”
“Agreed,” Anna said, though it nigh killed her to agree with one of his ilk.
“To state it clearly, so that no one believes themselves deceived, you stole the saddlebag that is now in the keep of Haynesdale. I and my fellows would like it and its contents back.”
“My brother was taken by the baron’s men. I should like him back.” She granted him another glance. “Hale and free.”
“You are skeptical of my intent,” he said mildly. “I cannot vouchsafe for his state until he is in our company, but I will not do him injury. Does that suffice?”
“What of your fellows?”
“They will not do as much either. It is against our nature and our vows to injure a child.”
“Even a thief?”
“Even a thief.” The knight’s agreement was so easy that Anna eyed him, knowing her doubt was clear. He smiled at her, which was most discomfiting. “Who would have taught him how to behave with honor?” he asked with humor. “You? Having poor instruction and not knowing the difference cannot be his fault, not at such an age.”
“I do not grant poor instruction!”
“Then you think a life as a thief has merit. An interesting moral code.”
“I think life has merit, when the alternative is to starve.”
“Is this not a prosperous holding? The land seems most bountiful.”
Anna snorted again. “It depends who you are, that much is certain. I hear the baron’s table groans with plenty and that his coffers overflow with the taxes he is determined to collect.”
“Have you no love for your overlord and baron? Surely his powers are rightfully gained?”
“Surely not! These lands were stolen from the rightful baron, stolen by a Norman knight who coveted both the holding and the wife of the Baron of Haynesdale. The villain was triumphant in claiming Haynesdale and now rules with disgust and disdain for all those beneath his hand.” She lifted her chin. “One day, the seed of Nicholas will return, so it is said. One day, the son of the true lineage will return to Haynesdale and reclaim his legacy and bring justice to all those who have remained loyal to his family name.”
The Crusader's Kiss Page 3
