Bound to the Warrior (Love Inspired Historical)

by Barbara Phinney

  She squeezed his hands back. “You came to see me yesterday. It touched me.” She looked at the table. “Why do you have a map?”

  “I need to see what roads there are between us and Colchester. A soldier who should have delivered a letter has disappeared.”

  A letter that explained Eudo’s version of the missing money? She didn’t want to know about that right now, for the news of a man missing was more serious.

  She released his hands and walked to the table. “This map shows the county’s new roads, made by King Harold when he was still Earl of Wessex.”

  Adrien stood close to follow her finger as she traced lines on the heavy parchment. He smelled good, like the forest after a rain. She inhaled deeply.

  “How well do you know these roads?”

  “Only from what I studied when Ganute left to fight.” She shrugged and pointed to one broken line that stopped in the middle of the forest on its way to Colchester. “I know that this one goes into the king’s forest. ’Tis said it hides thieves and wolves. A dangerous place, even for rebels.”

  “I doubt that the soldier Eudo sent would have strayed off the main road,” Adrien said. “Mayhap a band of thieves or a wild animal attacked him.”

  Ediva touched his arm. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’ll send out some more men to search for him.” He rolled up the map and secured it with a leather thong. Then he walked to the door and called out for Geoffrey and his sergeant. As Adrien handed over the map, he ordered a search for the man. Then to Geoffrey, he wanted refreshments for them.

  She thought again of her attacker. He’d demanded that she kill Adrien or others would die. But so far, he hadn’t done anything.

  An idle threat? Nay. With Adrien’s sergeant and several men out searching, would this be the time to carry it out?

  * * *

  A day later, the men returned. Ediva hurried into the hall, anxious for news. Looking up from a map, Adrien shook his head. Fighting her sinking heart, Ediva sank onto one of the benches.

  Adrien smacked his palms onto the map. “I fear ’twas not a wild beast that killed the soldier but a man.”

  She glanced up at him. “Why do you say that?”

  “If a wolf attacked him, the horse would have fought back then returned to either Colchester or here. These horses are fighters themselves. But if several men went against him, there would have been little hope for the man, and the horse would have been kept.” Adrien walked over to her and held out his hand. “Come, pray with me for the man’s safety.”

  She hesitated. He tilted his head. “’Tis the right thing to do. God loves all men, Saxons and Normans.”

  Those dark, delicious eyes melted her resolve. But she couldn’t... “Nay, Adrien, ’tis not that. ’Tis...”

  “’Tis what?”

  She bit her lip. “Why should God listen to me? I had thought too many times of Ganute’s death, and...” She stopped, remembering her attacker’s words and hating how they convicted her.

  “Go on,” he encouraged softly, his hand still stretched out.

  She blinked. “I didn’t have the courage to make a true plan or put it into action. The consequences would have been too high should I have failed.” She studied her feet and found her vision swimming in unshed tears.

  Reaching down, Adrien lifted her chin with his finger. “Ediva, look at me.” When she obeyed, she could see only kindness in his dark eyes. “’Twas not cowardice that stopped you. ’Twas the desire to do right.”

  If only she was so valiant as to care for what was right, but she didn’t dare mention the attack two days ago. And what if that soldier had been the first to die because she refused to kill Adrien? How could she call herself brave then?

  “Ediva, we’ve all sinned. But Christ loves us all. He died for us. And as your husband, I’m to love you the same way.”

  She let out a small gasp. “I don’t want to be a widow again!”

  “I would die to protect you, Ediva.”

  She swallowed to ease her suddenly dry throat. Was he saying that he loved her? Or was he just being obedient to his faith? She didn’t know and found herself too scared to ask.

  Abruptly, he hauled her up and held her. Nay, his statement of laying down his life for her was surely just obedience to his faith. ’Twould be too dangerous to give her heart only for obedience and not for love.

  A voice within whispered, Haven’t you already given your heart to him?

  Nay! ’Twas just the romance and her silly female heart taking over her good, practical sense. She would not love a man who was so willing to dash off to war and to his king.

  He broke the embrace and led her to the chapel. But there, her thoughts scattered, with prayers as loose-limbed as a newborn foal.

  Lord, help me sort this out. ’Twas all she could manage. But she felt better for it.

  The next day, early, Adrien sought her out to pray again and oddly, she looked forward to the quiet moment with him.

  But afterward, when he escorted her to her solar, Ediva knew she was headed for another riding lesson. Her maid held out her split cyrtel.

  Adrien had given her simple lessons so far, and she’d almost hoped he’d forgotten this desire for her to learn to ride in light of all that had happened. But ’twas not so.

  “If you did not enjoy chapel so much,” she said with a mock frown a short time later in the bailey, “I’d think you planned services in order to lure me out and give me another riding lesson.”

  He grinned lazily. “Never. We’re going on the road to Colchester today. Your lessons are going well enough for us to try you outside the bailey.”

  She spied Harry leading the gift mare out. “With her? Are you addled?”

  He laughed. “Nay, not her. She still needs more training with younger riders. I often put Harry on her to get her used to a smaller lead, which is what he’s doing today, though he’ll go out to the fields. Today, you’ll take another mare.” He looked down at the cyrtel she wore. “I’m glad you put on your new riding outfit.”

  Although still nervous, Ediva mounted an old roan mare and followed Adrien out of the bailey. As they left the gate, she threw one longing look back. Holding the gift mare’s reins, Harry stood beside Geoffrey and waved. But being too nervous to release her reins, Ediva offered a hasty nod.

  She called to Adrien. “Is this safe? We have already lost one soldier and you may as well be traveling alone for all the help I’ll be.”

  “He traveled at night, alone, and was young and unseasoned at defending himself. We are only riding as far as the new road. I want to see it for myself.” His expression was serious. “I will protect you.”

  Indeed, Ediva thought, eyeing his long sword. He could unsheathe it in a heartbeat and by its length, it was a formidable weapon. Aye, she felt safe, but still did not trust her equestrian skills.

  They plodded along, disgusting Adrien’s stallion, who obviously longed to run. But Adrien kept the beast under tight control.

  Summer heat dissolved in the shady forest and Ediva was glad for it. Ahead, she heard Adrien sigh before he turned.

  “’Tis a good day for a ride and the forest is cool.”

  “What are summers like in Normandy?”

  “Much like this, but less green. Our winters are harsher.”

  She swatted an insect quickly, lest she lose her grip on the reins. “Wait until autumn. There are no insects, yet the weather is still pleasant.”

  “I look forward to it. I hope to be here for the harvest. I want to help. As a soldier, I’ve never done that.”

  She refused to think that Adrien would be any place but here. “We have a festival for it.”

  But ’twas difficult to think of festivals when they were out on the road alone, and her attacker from the other night was possibly lurking nearby. Someone wanted Adrien dead. Her heart hitched. If she warned him, Adrien would order her to her solar, and search out this attacker. He’d stop at nothing.

  But as trained as he
was, he was still just a man. He could die from a knife in the back as quickly as the next one.

  Nay, she could not bear that.

  Adrien pulled to a stop at the new road. ’Twas mucky from some recent rains. Long branches shadowed its narrow length, which bent out of sight a short way up.

  A chill rippled through her.

  Adrien urged his horse forward.

  “Nay, Adrien. Don’t go!”

  He stopped and turned his horse around. “I’ll only go up to the first bend. There are big hoof prints here. Apart from me, only Eudo uses coursers that size.”

  “The road is too sloppy.”

  Adrien’s stallion disagreed, whinnying loudly and stepping sideways impatiently.

  He drew his horse around to distract it, then pulled up aside Ediva. He scanned the woodland, studying each rustling leaf. “I’ll only be a moment.”

  He trotted the horse up the trail and she watched him, offering a small prayer that he wouldn’t disappear around the bend. He stopped there and tipped his head as if listening for something.

  Then he returned to her side. “The road dwindles away, just as the map shows. The hoof prints go into the woods and disappear. There’s no one around.”

  “How far is Colchester?” she asked.

  “Several leagues. More than thrice the distance we have already traveled.”

  “’Tis unlikely the soldier would take that road when he’d come so far.”

  Adrien looked along the road he’d just inspected. “Why is this road here?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. We can ask Geoffrey.”

  He grimaced, deep in thought. “So we’re back to the beginning in our search.”

  “Let’s return, Adrien. I fear my riding skills are dwindling and ’tis as if this road is watching us.”

  They began the ride back. Ediva kept glancing over her shoulder at the quiet forest, but thankfully, no one followed them.

  Inside the bailey, Harry and Rypan ran up. Ediva waited until Adrien dismounted so he could help her off. Her legs gave way and she slumped toward him, but he held her fast. “I think I’ll take a cool drink of juice in the hall before the noon meal,” she said, leaving Adrien to see to the horses.

  Inside the cool hall, she took the mug of black currant juice Geoffrey brought. As she drank, he stood there frowning at her.

  “What is it, Geoffrey?”

  He hesitated. “There’s talk about a battle brewing in Ely, milady. The soldiers want to fight, and I could see them leave without a tear shed for them, but the villagers fear they’ll be forced to fight for the new king. ’Tis wrong, and they’ll blame Lord Adrien.”

  She wet her lips. Aye, some would blame him, for Adrien would do as ordered if he was commanded to muster the men.

  Geoffrey wrung his hands. “And some will take matters into their own hands.”

  She stilled. “Do you mean they’d start their own rebellion?”

  Geoffrey looked stiff as he cleared his throat. “Milady, no good has come having a Norman as lord of this keep. ’Twill cause nothing but trouble should the north meet our new king at Ely.”

  Adrien had done so much good here, ensuring the bailey was organized and the villagers given a venue to voice their converns. But the county was rife with revolutionary talk and discontent. “Go on,” she whispered.

  “Those who oppose the king would also want Lord Adrien dead before he could fight. He has a reputation as a powerful soldier. Should he battle at Ely, the English rebels would suffer greatly.”

  Worry rippled over her, forcing her body to go from hot to cold in a single breath. Would they have Adrien dead before he was called to Ely? Was that why her attacker had tried to force her to kill Adrien now?

  After glancing around at the empty hall, she leaned forward. “Who has started this talk?”

  “People defending their land, milady!”

  She knew she wouldn’t change the steward’s opinion, so she lifted her brows and announced, “I vowed to protect these people, not some band of curs who know nothing of real care. Do you know who has started this?”

  He didn’t answer immediately. “Nay, milady.”

  “Then you have work to do. Report to me when you have discovered who’s behind this dissention. There aren’t enough men to make an uprising possible and so aren’t enough men to hide this cur.” She spun away from the table and plowed out of the keep.

  ’Twas time she warned Adrien. And tell the real reason she’d spent yesterday in bed with her neck covered.

  She’d tell him everything.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Adrien needed to run his stallion. And he knew exactly where to go. After he left Ediva to head into the keep, he took a skin of fresh, tangy cider. Carrying that, he set off to meet the new road.

  One question had lingered in his mind from the time he’d spied the new road on the map. Why create a trail that led nowhere? He’d returned home only to take Ediva back, telling her there was nothing so as not to alarm her. But now he meant to find the truth.

  Reaching the road, he slowed his horse, forcing his mount to walk only for fear he’d wrench an ankle in the muck.

  As the horse stepped forward, Adrien pulled out his sword and held it upright. His courser heard the familiar noise and immediately tensed.

  At the bend in the road, his battle-hewn senses came alive. Someone cunning enough to stay hidden was watching him. He and his mount were sure of it.

  The tracks his horse had made earlier were still visible, as were the tracks of another horse, one that ran. Like he’d told Ediva, it was a big one, and he knew it had to belong to Eudo, having loaned it to the courier. The prints continued around the bend, and so did Adrien, his sword at the ready. Had the young messenger taken this route, or been attacked, leaving the horse to gallop up here?

  Adrien stopped at the bend and studied the soft muck. Several footprints crossed over the other horse’s hoofprints. All led into the woods.

  Sensing its master’s excitement, his courser nickered softly. The stallion had battled with him at Hastings. Bred for their aggressiveness, coursers loved to fight. The horse sniffed the air. Aye, he smelled someone. And together, they’d find the cur.

  As they had this morning, the branches drooped heavily, and the air lay humid on his skin.

  Adrien listened, slowing the horse until it picked its way along the road. Nay, not a road anymore. ’Twas barely a path now.

  And it was closing in around him.

  He turned his horse around, slowly, all the while studying the woods. The feeling of being watched lingered like a bad smell. He wanted to dismount and investigate, but he’d lose the advantage if he did.

  His horse nickered again, softer, turning to Adrien’s right. In response he turned the horse to face that way.

  And tensed.

  * * *

  Ediva grimaced as she walked away from the stable. Adrien had been gone for far too long.

  “Which way did Lord Adrien go?” she asked Harry.

  “I saw him take the road into the forest like this morning, milady.”

  Concern deepened. Had he seen something up that new road? She’d seen it on the map, drawn in by Geoffrey as was his duty, but had thought nothing of it. The road led nowhere, Adrien had said. So why return?

  She pulled in her own nervous breath, remembering her attacker’s words. Her gaze strayed toward the chapel and an unfamiliar ache swelled within her. She swallowed. The chaplain had a small garden at the edge of the village and this time of day, he’d be busy there. The chapel would be empty.

  Before she could talk herself out of it, Ediva slipped inside. The thick, stone walls kept the chapel cool and she welcomed the relief. Rather than the family pew, she chose one of the simple benches at the back. There, she shut her eyes and did nothing, thought nothing.

  Before too long, a horse whinnied outside and she hurried to the door but found a mare was responsible. She sagged and returned to her seat.

&nbs
p; Tears sprang to her eyes. Lord, please keep Adrien safe. I know I have done nothing to warrant Your ear, but please, he loves You. Protect him.

  But there was no answer, no wash of comfort. Just worry. She gripped the bench until her hands hurt. Lord, haven’t You made me suffer enough? What do You want?

  Forgiveness. The word spread over her like warm honey. Forgive who?

  She knew exactly who. But could she? What would be the point, since his body lay in the grave outside the bailey?

  Would it really ease her pain?

  The silence irked her, and she stood. No answer today.

  * * *

  A man leapt from the woods, his sword held high.

  Adrien’s mount reared in surprise. Automatically, Adrien leaned forward. He took a heavy swipe at his attacker. Their blades clashed, and Adrien saw immediately that his attacker’s weapon was a shorter Saxon sword with curved guards and shorter grip. But equally deadly.

  The man’s face was wrapped in plain, well-secured cloth, and Adrien growled at being unable to recognize him. His attacker lunged, sword swinging again, but Adrien shoved him with his foot. With leg pressure only, Adrien turned his horse. The stallion knew exactly how to battle, with or without the hindering armor it would normally wear.

  It pivoted and kicked the man, sending him flailing backward, but not before catching Adrien’s thigh with his sword. With more leg pressure, Adrien ordered the animal around again. When their assailant staggered upright, Adrien swiped hard with his weapon, catching the man at the shoulder. The man let out a painful cry before falling into the dense woods.

  Adrien held back his horse as it danced with the desire to chase. The thick overgrowth would not stop his battle-trained and aggressive stallion, but the animal had no barding to protect its length, and Adrien refused to risk injuring it.

  He allowed his mount to trot around the end of the trail, all the while searching the woods. The only sounds over their breathing were of the man scurrying through the underbrush.

  He turned his horse once more and felt a sharp pain in his thigh. Looking down, he discovered he’d been sliced open and the sudden shift of his leg exposed the wound further. His hose cut through, he could see blood streaming out. His mount sniffed the air. Smelling blood, the courser danced edgily.