Warriors Of Legend

by Kathryn Le Veque, Kathryn Loch, Dana D'Angelo

  Then as if he could read her thoughts, he bent his head, his lips a hair’s breadth away. He was going to kiss her! Estella held her breath. She was acutely aware that she still had her legs wrapped around his waist, and his large hands were splayed across her backside.

  “Are you all right?” he asked quietly.

  Her eyes flew to his, surprised. She was so used to taking care of the needs of others — her sisters, her father and the castle inhabitants. But to see the concern in his eyes, she felt…unsettled.

  One of the horses Ulrich returned with snorted behind her. And suddenly the spell that surrounded them faded like warm breath in the winter evening.

  She shook her head to clear her mind. This knight was far from the stories of old. He was a liar and a thief. If anything she should hate him for the insult that he gave to her and her family. The last thing she should be doing was to be thinking lustfully about him. He didn’t save her father as he claimed, and there was nothing that she owed to him. And besides, she chided herself. The stories that the minstrels sang about didn’t involve a lady being dragged out of her warm bed at night. Nor did it involve a maiden forced to marry a man who had a false claim to honor.

  She straightened her legs, intending to free herself from their erotic embrace, but he didn’t let her go. Instead, he allowed her legs to dangle in the air while his strong arms kept her in place.

  “Let me down, please,” she said, her voice tense.

  Reluctantly he released her yet he did so with slow deliberation, forcing her to slide down the hard ridges of his muscular body.

  “If only we were in another place,” he whispered in her ear, a twinge of regret sounding in his voice.

  She stepped back. “If only I was still in my warm bed,” she snapped.

  Now that she was away from his heat, the cold air immediately slapped her body, driving away all warmth. She pulled the hood over her head, and wrapped her arms around herself.

  Estella looked up at her bedchamber window, a distance that seemed close yet was as far away as a dream. A lump formed in her throat. At least her sisters were safe. She knew in her heart that if she had called for help, all hell would have broken loose, and her sisters would witness unnecessary brutality. Their mother was no longer alive, and it was up to her to shield them from such things.

  One of the horses snorted again, impatient to leave Cedwick Castle.

  “Gavin,” Ulric said in a hushed tone. He handed him his longbow and arrow pouch. “We must leave now.”

  Gavin nodded in acknowledgement, and slung the pouch and longbow over his shoulder.

  He then lifted Estella up on top of a black courser. Climbing up behind her, he placed both arms on either side of her, holding onto the reins.

  Then they were off, the deep snow muffling the sounds of pounding hooves.

  The snow began to fall heavily as they passed through the deserted village. Everyone was shut in for the night. And even the animals, who usually roamed the streets during the day and night, found shelter somewhere.

  At first Estella made sure to leave space between them, keeping her spine as straight as a rod. But as they continued swiftly along the King’s highway just outside the village, the position became tiring. And now that there were no buildings to block out the bitter wind, she began to shiver uncontrollably.

  Gavin let out a sigh, and put an arm around her waist, pulling her toward him. “You’ll be warmer if you sit closer to me and share my body heat,” he said, ignoring her stiffened body.

  “I do not think so.” But even as she said those words, she could feel his strong heat beckoning to her. And soon his heat proved too tempting, too alluring. And although Estella hated herself for doing it, she leaned back and allowed herself to become encased in his warmth.

  She marveled at the hardness of his chest touching her back, and she was all too aware of his muscular thighs brushing against hers. She willed herself to think of something else. But every bump that the horse encountered on the uneven road forced her to remember who was riding behind her.

  Estella admonished herself for having such wanton thoughts about a scoundrel who operated outside of the law. But her thoughts kept circling back to their intimate embrace.

  In all her years, she had never come across a man like Gavin. He was a man of carefully chosen words. Estella sensed that his mind was always calculating, working several steps ahead to ensure a good outcome for himself. And in this case that outcome was to fetch a bride.

  CHAPTER 6

  Gavin clenched his teeth when she moved against his groin. For the second time tonight, he regretted a decision he made. They rode in silence but it was impossible to avoid her since she was sitting right in front of him. He closed his eyes although that didn’t help much. How could he forget her when everything about her filled his senses? She smelled like a mix of rose water, cinnamon and something else that he couldn’t quite make out, something that was uniquely her. After being in the company of men all these long years, it was refreshing to smell the delicate scent of a woman. Except now was not the time to enjoy it. He frowned. The smell of her seemed to wrap around him, taking his thoughts into a direction that he preferred not to go.

  “Do not wiggle so much, my lady,” he grounded out.

  But of course while he tried to stop his mind from going that direction, his body had other ideas.

  And having her sit so near his groin didn’t help matters.

  After a while, her movements stilled. The steady rocking motion of his horse’s gait had put her to sleep.

  Her mouth parted slightly, and a small smile played on her lips, as if she dreamed of something pleasant, something that didn’t involve her being abducted from her own home.

  They had covered enough distance, and Gavin slowed the horse’s pace. Ulric followed suit.

  “You must think me ten times the fool to pursue this,” Gavin said. “You must also think that there has to be another way to solve my dilemma. And that I don’t need to saddle myself with a wife.”

  “I’m sure Rose will appreciate your efforts.” Ulric lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “From what I’ve seen, Lady Estella seems a brave woman.”

  Gavin shook his head, unable to believe it. “I encounter fear all the time in the battlefield. And I saw that same fear in her eyes, yet she was able to stand up to me, a man nearly twice her size.” And that same fear showed itself when she slipped on the window’s ledge, he reminded himself.

  He looked down at her angelic face, and a strange protective instinct awakened within him. He didn’t know why he felt compelled to shelter this woman, a woman that he barely knew.

  Her head leaned against his arm, trusting him to hold her and prevent her from tumbling off his horse.

  Gavin fought back the urge to embrace her tightly. When she slipped from the window ledge, his heart nearly stopped. And out of pure reflex his hand grabbed her before she fell. The thought of losing her made him feel troubled.

  She stirred in her sleep and snuggled closer to him as if she sought comfort and warmth from him. There was something sweet in how she trusted him, at least in her sleep.

  It was an entirely different story when she was awake.

  He noticed a wayward strand of hair across her face, and he gave into the sudden urge to bush it aside. But as soon as he touched her skin, he lingered there, marveling at how smooth it felt under his calloused fingers. He wondered if the rest of her body felt as smooth and as soft.

  At the touch of his hand, her eyes fluttered opened. She blinked twice.

  “Have I been asleep long?” she asked. She straightened her back, trying to put distance between them again. She looked up, and noticed that the snow still obscured the sky.

  “Long enough,” Gavin said. He smiled at her look of dismay. “We shall stop to eat before continuing our journey. Unfortunately in our haste to escape, we neglected to bring enough food with us. All we have is stale bread, some cheese and ale. We shall see if we can find fresh meat
in the forest.”

  He called to Ulric, and veered his horse into the woods that lined the highway. All the while his eyes scanned the bare trees.

  “What are you looking for?” she asked, her voice filled with curiosity. “You keep examining the trees as if you expect outlaws and robbers to ambush us at any moment.”

  “That may very well be the case,” he said. “There are always criminals along these roads. And there’s no telling where they’ll set up camp, since they move from place to place to avoid capture from the authorities. Still, ‘tis prudent to avoid them, especially now that you’re with us.”

  He sent a questioning look over at his friend.

  “I see no signs of outlaws,” Ulric said.

  Gavin examined the darkening sky. “A storm is approaching,” he said. “Keep an eye out for shelter.”

  Seeing a large jagged rock beyond the trees, he pointed, “Over there. What is it?”

  Ulric squinted. “That looks like an overhanging rock. I’ll go ahead and investigate.” With that, he urged his horse toward the area that he indicated.

  Estella looked uneasily at the ominous clouds. The snow fell more heavily now, and she could feel the chilled air go straight through her cloak.

  “Are you certain that we will find a place to escape the storm?”

  “We still have some time. The wind hasn’t picked up yet, and the snow fall is light.”

  A scampering sound came from their right. And by the time Estella knew what Gavin was about to do, he had lifted the long bow that slung across his shoulder, and withdrew an arrow from the pouch on his back. He turned to his side. And within a matter of seconds, he notched the wooden shaft to the bow and effortlessly let the arrow loose.

  Estella stared in surprise at the dead rabbit that lay between two tall birch trees.

  Gavin slid off the horse and walked to the dead animal on the ground, the arrow pierced straight through it. Tying the scrawny rabbit onto the saddle, he then headed back toward the trees.

  She watched curiously as he moved to a tree close by, breaking off dried twigs from the branches, and peeling off large chunks of birch bark.

  He glanced her way, and saw the question in her eyes. “The wood lying on the ground is too damp,” he explained. “And birch bark has special oils in it that will burn even if ‘tis wet.”

  Estella nodded. Knights were trained for survival and she had no doubt that he knew what he was doing.

  Gavin returned with the bark and twigs. He stuffed the pieces inside one of the sacks that hung from the saddle before climbing back onto the horse. They then progressed deeper into the woods.

  Estella looked back at the direction in which they had come. With a heavy heart, she realized that no one knew where she was. It was hours yet before anyone would be alerted of her disappearance. And when they finally did set after her, the horses’ tracks would have already been obscured by new snow.

  CHAPTER 7

  The storm hit them just as Gavin predicted.

  “Over there,” Ulric shouted. The wind lashed and blew all around them. His cloak lifted behind him as if the wind wanted to rip it off his back and take possession of it. The trees bent and swayed in a wild, primitive dance that only they knew the rhythm and beats to.

  Estella cried in pain as the cold air whipped across her face. She brought her arms up to cover her head, and almost doubled over in her quest to protect herself from the relentless storm.

  Gavin grabbed her head and brought it to his chest. He drew a section of his cloak over her to protect her against the intense gale.

  He then urged his horse forward, but even the horse had difficulty seeing where he was going. And the blinding snow kept coming down. It felt like an eternity, and Estella felt for certain that they would either be frozen to death or buried in the mounting snow. This was not how she wanted her life to end, she thought desperately.

  And then it stopped.

  “It’s passed,” Gavin said, relief in his voice. He wiped at the snow on his face. “We should seek shelter and rest before we continue on our way.”

  “Where are we?” Estella asked. She cautiously lowered her arms and looked around, almost expecting the forceful squall to reoccur. “I have never experienced a storm like that.”

  “We’re now entering into the northern regions,” he said. “From here onward, the landscape will become marred with steep hills and banks. A barren land, you might say, but ‘tis at once powerful and treacherous if you’re not familiar with it.”

  She saw her surroundings with new eyes, noticing for the first time the rocky planes.

  They navigated toward the large overhanging rock that Gavin had pointed out earlier. As they got closer to the structure, Estella stared in awe. Nothing like this existed near her home. The massive rock jutted out on top of a mound of stone and dirt. It fanned out slightly at the base and created a natural curve that formed a deep, protective barrier from the elements. The ground underneath the overhang was smooth as if the dirt had been pressed down by an unseen hand.

  Gavin led them to the shelter and helped her down from the horse. Ulric was already there waiting for them. So when both Estella and Gavin were safely on the ground, he took their horse from them, tethering him to a tree near the base of the refuge.

  The wind had died down, and Estella thought she could detect the faint trickling sound of rushing water. While it was chilly, it wasn’t enough to freeze the water, it seemed.

  “I’ll take the rabbit to clean,” Ulric said, “and look for some wood for cooking.”

  “Fine,” Gavin said. “I’ll start the fire.”

  Ulric nodded and disappeared into the forest.

  Estella wrapped her arms around herself, watching Gavin as he gathered the dry leaves and twigs that that lay trapped along the edges of the earthen wall. Focused on the task of piling the leaves and twigs into a mound, he seemed to have forgotten that she existed.

  She pulled her hood down further over her head, trying to gain what little warmth she could. But as she did so, her fingers accidentally brushed her face and the coldness went straight to her bones. She clapped her hands together and shook them in an attempt to bring feeling back to them.

  Gavin looked up at her as if the noise she made caused him to recall her presence. “Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to a small rock along the wall.

  “Nay,” she said. “I have been sitting for many hours.”

  Estella could hear Ulric cutting down branches off in the distance.

  Gavin shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said and walked over to his horse. A few minutes later, he returned with a sack which contained the birch bark and small branches that he collected earlier. He arranged the material over the leaves, and once again dug into his sack, pulling out a leather pouch.

  Seeing her look at the bag, he said, “I carry a striking–steel and flint. These are tools that every knight must have if he wants to survive these winter conditions.”

  He opened a tinder box that was inside the bag, and brought out the steel and a small piece of quartz. Then in sure movements, he began to strike the metal against the flint, causing small sparks to fly out and drop onto the nest of leaves, bark and twigs.

  In a matter of seconds, the sparks caught and Gavin blew on it to encourage the small flame to grow.

  Drawn to the possibility of warmth, Estella inched closer. She brought her hands near the small fire, feeling the warmth seep into her hands and then further into her body.

  Ulric returned with the skinned rabbit, and a bundle of dead branches that were slightly larger than the ones that Gavin had collected.

  He set the rabbit in the snowy ground and began to break the branches to add to the fire.

  The two men worked silently, well acquainted with how the other worked. Usually the cook at home took care of the meat preparations, but Ulric seemed proficient in working with food. Choosing the appropriate wood pieces that had natural notches at the end, he hammered them into the ground wi
th a rock that he found.

  Gavin meanwhile took one of the sturdy branches, and began to shave off the bark with a knife that he acquired from his boot.

  “Why did you lie about saving my father?” Estella asked him, breaking the silence.

  Gavin looked up from what he was doing, the knife glinting as the light of the fire bounced off of it. “I’m a knight,” he said. He went back to whittling the branch until there was a sharp point at the end. “And knights never lie. Is that not right, Ulric?”

  He held the sharpened stick up to assess its sharpness before handing it to his companion.

  Ulric took the carcass and pushed it through the stick. He placed the skewer onto the prepared wooden stakes. “At least the honest ones don’t,” he replied with a touch of sarcasm in his voice.

  Estella pursed her lips. “But it makes no sense to me. If I were to save a nobleman’s life, I would ask for a bigger payment, a ransom perhaps. I would not have asked to marry one of his daughters,” she said, watching Gavin carefully to see his reaction. “Would money not be more useful than saddling yourself with a wife? A wife which by the way, you know nothing about? For all you know, I could be a mad woman.”

  “This I already know,” Gavin said mockingly.

  She scowled at him, but that only made him chuckle.

  He had shed his thick cloak and even in the cold morning air, he seemed unaffected by the chill. Her eyes were drawn to his broad shoulders and massive chest. It then moved down along the muscular arms that held her not too long ago. A flash of heat flooded her body, but it didn’t have anything to do with the fire that burned merrily in front of her.

  She looked over to where Ulric was bent over the fire, tending the crude spit. The safest thing was to focus on something else, she reasoned.

  Her eyes dropped to the meat cooking on the fire, suddenly realizing how hungry she was. She watched as fat dripped down from the rabbit as Ulric carefully turned the spit. Her stomach rumbled as the smell of roasted meat filled her senses.

  Gavin took one of the sticks on the ground and crouched by the small fire, poking at the burning branches. “Now tell me, my lady, why do you put such little value to your life?”