Fearsome Brides

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Onward they went, now with more confidence, but it was nearing the dead of night as they reached an enormously swollen body of water. Everything before them seemed to be flooded, the sounds of water swirling in the darkness. Behind her, Alessandra could hear Chad sigh.

  “Damnation,” he hissed. “Boughton Creek is overflowing its banks. This is an unexpected bit of nonsense.”

  There were knights swarming around him on excited horses. “Is there any way around this?” someone asked.

  Chad shook his head. “Nay,” he replied. “We must cross this. There is no other way.”

  That seemed to concern the group a great deal. “Then we have no choice,” one very big knight said. He had a crossbow in his right hand, controlling his horse with his left. “You called this creek by name, Chad. How close are we to Canterbury?”

  Chad turned to look behind them, concerned with what might be coming up from the rear. “Not far,” he said, returning his focus to the dark water. “Another half an hour at the very most. But we must get across this creek.”

  “You seem worried.”

  Chad nodded. “This creek comes from the sea,” he said. “It is not far to the north of us. It can be deep in places and the mud is like glue. There is, in fact, another road, but it is fairly far to the south. We may not have the time to….”

  “Chad!” Someone shouted his name. “Riders!”

  The knights all whirled around, weapons at the ready, seeing two lonely torches approach at a distance. Since Chad had sent out two riders, he wasn’t particularly concerned with whoever approached, but he was suddenly very concerned when, far in the distance, they began to see more pinpricks of light. They were very faint, but it was clear that they were moving. He pointed.

  “Look,” he said to his men. “Our scouts are being pursued.”

  The knights around him began to hiss. The one with the crossbow spoke. “Do we try to go around this watery mess, then?” he asked. “Can we do it in time?”

  Chad knew this land. He’d spent many years here as a small boy. It was marshy land at best because of its proximity to the sea. “I fear we may get into more trouble if we act in haste,” he said. “There are swamps about here and if we get stuck in one, we will be finished. Unfortunately, our best option is to cross the swollen creek at this point and pray we can make it. I will go first; follow me in a line and do not stray.”

  The knight with the crossbow rallied the others and, soon, they were crossing in a single-file line across the swollen creek. They were trying to move quickly but not foolishly, so Chad kept a steady pace. On they went, watching the water and mud rise to the knees of the horses, going deeper and deeper, but still Chad went forward. The creek usually wasn’t very wide and he, through the darkness, could see dry land on the other side, about a dozen feet away. It gave him something to aim for.

  But it would get worse before it got better. The closer they drew to the opposite shore, however, the more the horses seemed to be sinking. A couple of the animals towards the back of the line seemed to be panicking a bit and the knights astride them were struggling to keep them under control. Chad didn’t look back to see how close the pursuing riders were; it didn’t matter much at that point how close they were so he kept his gaze forward, his manner calm, as he directed his horse further and further into the water.

  There was a definite current around them as they drew closer to the dry land, sweeping past them, washing away into the dark night. It was quite unnerving but the men kept their heads, knowing they had no choice if they were going to live through this. Chad, in particular, kept his head. The man had nerves of steel as Alessandria, in his lap, simply closed her eyes and held on. She couldn’t swim and the water swirling around them was terrifying her, but she kept her composure. But the eyes stayed closed; it was better for them all if she couldn’t see what was going on.

  Suddenly, Chad’s horse seemed to come into contact with firm ground beneath the water and the horse, eager to be free of the muck, jumped to get out of it and onto the firmer soil ahead. Chad was semi-prepared for the horse’s movements but Alessandria, only holding on by the horn of the saddle, lost her grip. Chad was trying to keep his seat as his horse jumped not once, but twice, and on the second jump, he lost his grip on Alessandria and she went flying off of the horse and into the dark, swirling water around them.

  Immediately, she was swept downstream and she screamed in terror, her head barely above the water. Without a second thought, Chad jumped in after her.

  Unfortunately, he was in all of his heavy clothing – chain mail, leather breeches, boots, and at least three tunics. It was weighty, worse still with the water, and even as strong as he was, he couldn’t swim very well in all of that gear. He also couldn’t take the time to remove it because he saw Alessandria’s head go under the water and then bob back up again. She was screaming at the top of her lungs.

  So he struggled after her, realizing that the water wasn’t all that deep but it was moving swiftly. Therefore, he began to half-run and half-swim, using the current to his advantage, closing the gap between him and the lady who was being swept just out of his reach. He reached out, almost managed to grab her, when her head went under again. Blindly, he began grabbing at anything he could in the water, hoping to come across an arm or a head. He ended up grabbing her hair and with a big yank, pulled her up to the surface.

  Alessandria was sputtering and weeping, absolutely terrified, as Chad literally reeled her against him using her hair. When she came close, a big arm went around her.

  “I have you, lass,” he assured her in a steady, calm voice. “Do not fear. I have you now.”

  She didn’t really answer him other than to throw her arms around his neck, sputtering and gasping for air. She had him so tightly that he was starting to gasp for air so he was forced to shift her arms as he struggled to make his way out of the churning water.

  Fortunately, it was only at his knees at this point and he was able to climb up on the bank, carrying the lady. But his men were far away, over on the road to the northeast, and the pinprick torches were getting closer. He didn’t want his men to be caught in a skirmish. With Alessandria still in his arms, he bellowed to his men and hoped they could hear him.

  “Go on!” he yelled. “Get to Canterbury!”

  He hoped they would listen. He didn’t want them to try and make their way to him in this swampy land where a misstep would break a horse’s leg or sink them into mud they couldn’t get out of. When one of the knights, Stefan he thought, tried to do just that – make his way over to him – Chad yelled at him again and de Russe blocked Stefan off from going after his brother. They would have to trust Chad to take care of the lady while they would lead the men pursuing them away from her, which was presumably the target. They could only assume that Henry’s men had somehow caught up to them.

  As Chad’s knights took off towards Canterbury, which at this point was a very short distance away, Chad carried Alessandria back towards a heavy grove of trees, silhouetted black against the night sky. There, they would hide.

  He prayed it would be enough shelter to keep Henry’s men away from them.

  Sweet Jesus… she’d never been so cold.

  Wet and muddy, Alessandria was wrapped in very heavy wool, soaked through with the sludge from the swollen creek. She was shivering uncontrollably, huddled down in a heavy thicket of bushes, while Chad lingered over near the edge of the trees, watching the road in the distance. The pinpricks of light were torches, growing closer and closer, but she didn’t much care. The only thing she was aware of at that point was her misery.

  So she rolled herself into a ball, her face against her knees, trying desperately to warm herself even though it was impossible with her soaking clothing. It was August and although the temperatures were relatively mild, the nights could be cool and they’d had rather cool weather over the past several days which included the rain storms that had caused the creek to overflow.

  Alessandria could
hear the knight in the bushes, watching the road in the distance. Chad, they had called him. He had admitted to being from the House of de Lohr, so she could only assume that was his full name – Chad de Lohr. She hadn’t gotten a good look at the man as he’d pulled her from the priory but what she could see had been intense – eyes the color of a hot summer sky had gazed back at her, scorching, and she could see blond tufts of hair peeking out from beneath his helm. Beyond that, she could see nothing else and the truth was that she didn’t care one way or the other.

  She wasn’t the least bit curious about him, this man who had extracted her from her home under the guise of trying to save her from the king. She didn’t care for him or his alleged mission. She simply wanted to be warm again, and without fear, because, at the moment, she was fairly wretched. But she kept her face buried in her cold clothing because it was all she had, keeping her eyes closed and hoping she might be able to fall asleep that way. At least she wouldn’t be aware of the cold if she could sleep a little. But the problem was that she was far too on-edge for sleep and, ears at attention, she could hear the ground give when he took a step or two, moving about in their hiding place. She was aware of his every movement, like the prey aware of the hunter.

  She felt very much like prey.

  “Did you hurt yourself when you fell?”

  His deep voice, quite raspy, was very quiet in the darkness. Still, the sound startled her. Alessandria shook her head.

  “I did not,” she muttered against the cold clothing.

  He fell silent for a moment but he was moving and it was too late when Alessandria realized he had moved close to her. In fact, his big body was right next to her by the time she realized it and she startled, trying to move away from him but tipping over in the process. He reached out, politely, to keep her from falling into a bush with thorns in it but Alessandria didn’t realize that. She didn’t take kindly to being grabbed and, resisting him, fell into the thorny bush in spite of his efforts to prevent it. She yelped.

  “I was trying to prevent you from poking holes in yourself,” he told her in that low, hoarse tone. “There are sharp things on that bush beside you.”

  Alessandria rubbed her left arm, trying not to appear too foolish. “You… you startled me,” she said. It was the truth. “Did those men who were following us go away?”

  He turned his head in the darkness, looking in the direction of the road. “They continued on after my men,” he said, “but not without two of them becoming stuck in the mud. They are still out there, trying to pull one of the horses free.”

  That had Alessandria’s interest somewhat. She craned her neck, trying to see what he was looking at. “So we must stay here?”

  He nodded. Then, he turned to look at her. “For a short time, at least until I can figure out what those two fools are doing,” he said. He studied her for a moment in the darkness. “Forgive me for my bad manners, but we were not formally introduced because there was not time. I am Sir Chadwick de Lohr. I am the eldest son of the Earl of Canterbury.”

  For some reason, the formal introduction made her feel a bit better, as if she hadn’t been abducted by some nameless, terrible ruffian. At least the man had the trappings of nobility.

  “De Lohr,” she repeated. “I have heard the name.”

  He shrugged, turning his attention to the road once more. He was quite interested in what Henry’s men were doing in the distance. “Most people in England have,” he said without arrogance. It was simply the truth. “And you are Lady Alessandria de Shera, sister of Aurelius de Shera.”

  “I am.”

  “You and I are distantly related. Did you know that?”

  She shook her head, intrigued. “How?”

  He turned to look at her again. “It is only by marriage, but we are related nonetheless,” he said. “Your cousins are Gallus, Maximus, and Tiberius de Shera.”

  “Aye.”

  He continued. “Their mother, Honey de Shera, was the youngest daughter of my grand-uncle, Christopher de Lohr,” he explained. “I realize family trees can be quite confusing, but Honey married Antoninus de Shera, who….”

  She cut him off. “Uncle Antoninus,” she said. “He was my father’s brother.”

  “Exactly.”

  Indeed, she felt more than a little better about their association now. But she also wanted answers to the situation. “I heard what you told the Mother Prioress,” she said. “Henry would really hold me hostage against my cousins and my brother’s surrender? But I do not understand. I am nothing of importance to anyone, not even my brother. He will not care if Henry holds me hostage or not.”

  He pulled his helm off, revealing shoulder-length hair, wet and dirty. He ran his fingers through it, scratching his scalp. “Why would you say that?” he asked. “He is your brother. He should care very much if Henry gets his hands on you.”

  Alessandria shrugged. “You would think so, but you would be wrong,” she said. “I have not seen my brother in years and the last we saw each other, he hardly gave me a glance. Aurelius is only concerned with himself and no one else. Or did you not realize that about him?”

  Chad knew that about Aurelius. Indeed, most everyone did. He was a petty man without the de Shera command ability that seemed to be a trait within all of them. All of them but Aurelius. Chad wasn’t sure what to say to that and uncertainty caused him to change the subject somewhat. “He was at Evesham along with your father,” he said. “Please accept my condolences on the passing of your father. Although I did not know him well, he fought bravely.”

  Alessandria snorted, a rude sound. “If there is anyone I care less for than my brother, it is my father,” she said. “I do not mean to sound cruel, but my father was my sire in name only. He never cared much for his only girl-child. My mother died when I was five years of age and when she passed, I was immediately sent away to foster. I do not much know Julius de Shera and I do not much wish to, so his death to me means nothing.”

  Chad listened with some interest. It seemed as if Lady Alessandria wasn’t much attached to her family or them to her from what she was saying. “Am I to assume that your entire family doesn’t much care for each other?”

  She nodded. “That is a fair statement,” she said. “They have no use for me, or I for them, which is why Newington has been my home these last six years. I intend to take my vows. I like it there. They are my family.”

  Chad scratched his head, thoughtfully. “Then if Henry were to hold you hostage….”

  “It would not mean a thing to my brother, I assure you. He would bid the king welcome to me.”

  Chad had to think on that situation. Henry wanted the girl to force the House of de Shera into submission, but clearly, that would not work with the brother, or at least it wouldn’t from what Alessandria said. It would be something interesting to tell his father. He was eager to get to Canterbury and dump the girl off so she would no longer be his problem, but in speaking with her, the situation had him the least bit intrigued.

  “But your cousins would not let the king take you with glee,” he said. “I know Gallus and Maximus and Tiberius personally. They are good friends. If Henry held you hostage, they would take it most seriously.”

  She sighed, hugging her knees again because she was so cold. “I have never met my cousins,” she said truthfully. “They do not know me and I do not know them. I only know they are great warlords. Why would they bother with me?”

  “Because you are their family.”

  “I am insignificant.”

  Chad scratched his head. “You do understand that if Henry is able to capture you, your future is uncertain,” he pointed out. “He will take you back to London, more than likely to the Tower of London where political prisoners are held, and keep you there. If your family refuses to surrender to his will, he would not be beyond sending you back to them in pieces. He did worse to Simon de Montfort and I would not put it past Henry to do the same thing to you. Does this not concern you?”

  She
looked at him, her delicate features haunting in the darkness. “I could not stop him if he decided that was to be done,” she said. “I know where my soul is going, Sir Knight. I am not afraid of death.”

  She was a stoic little thing. Rather surprised by her attitude, Chad was determined more than ever to sweep her into the safety of Canterbury where his father could take charge of the situation. Still, there was a small part of him that wanted to stay, too, just to see how everything turned out. This small, wet, and brave young woman was rather intriguing.

  “Mayhap you are not afraid of death, but I do not intend to meet mine anytime soon,” he said, once again turning his attention to the road off to the northeast. “It looks as if those soldiers have managed to remove the horse from the mud and they are heading back in the direction they have come. That being the case, I think we can slip through these trees and join up with the road further to the south. Are you up to it, my lady?”

  Alessandria nodded even though her legs were frozen solid. It was difficult for her to move and try to stand up.

  “I am,” she assured him. Then, she paused in her quest to stand on her feet. “I… I did not have the chance to thank you for saving my life, Sir Knight. I did not mean to be rude and not convey my gratitude, but you must understand that I am in a rather strange predicament.”

  Chad smiled faintly, taking her by the elbow to help her to her feet. This time, she didn’t try to pull away. “And I am not?”

  She grinned, her white teeth flashing in the dim light. “I suppose we both are,” she said. “But you… you extracted me from Newington with all of the grace of a surgeon yanking a rotten tooth. You broke down the door, told the Mother Prioress that men were coming to kill me, and then you forced me to go with you. In an odd chain of events, you saved my life when I fell into the water. As you can see, I am not sure I should thank you for saving my life or slap you for abducting me. How do I know you are telling me the truth about any of this?”