The Warrior and the Dove - A Short Novel (Medieval Chronicles)

by Julia Byrne

  Herleve turned from the large cooking pot simmering over the fire and smiled at them as they entered. “Well?” she asked, as if everything should now be settled.

  Martin looked up with an expectant air.

  What was she supposed to say? ’Twas obvious they trusted Hugh without reservation. And she didn’t know how to put her doubts into words.

  Her lips parted, she almost spoke, almost said that she must stand firm against him. But then she remembered the note in Hugh’s voice when he had swept her into his embrace. He was risking something, too, she realized suddenly. As far as he knew she could agree to marry him simply for protection, or to escape whatever terror was snapping at her heels. He didn’t even know what he might have to confront on her behalf.

  “What if I bring danger to you?” she asked sharply, fear putting an edge on the words.

  He merely quirked a brow. “Does this concern for my safety mean you’re going to marry me?”

  “Nay!” She almost stamped a foot in frustration at the black void in her mind. “How can I? If only I could remember. I remember meeting those boys, and being in a convent. Why can’t I recall what hap…what hap…” She broke off with a gasp, pressing a hand to her stomach as nausea struck. Then, gritting her teeth, got out, “What happened in between.”

  Hugh had an arm around her in an instant, drawing her close. “Do you turn as white as a wraith whenever you try to remember?” he demanded, his face grim.

  “That she does,” Herleve said, moving quickly around the table to help him lower her onto a stool.

  “But I didn’t feel sick when I spoke of the battle,” Annith protested. “Or of walking through the forest. So why now? Why?”

  “Don’t try to remember now,” he said gently, hunkering down before her and chafing some warmth back into her hands. “You should rest. I have to return to the castle in any case; another line of petitioners will be forming. But I’ll be back this evening.”

  Suddenly she felt so weary she could have put her head down on the table and slept right there. But she summoned a smile and nodded.

  Hugh lifted her fingers to his lips and kissed them. “Remember you’re no longer alone in this,” he murmured, and rose to his feet.

  A quick word to Martin and Herleve, and he was gone.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The courier stood before his liege lord, waiting to be sentenced without hope of mercy. After the news he had just delivered, he knew the dungeon awaited him. Why else would the sergeant-at-arms be standing a mere pace away?

  “What do you mean she is not at the priory?” His master’s voice grated with barely suppressed rage. “Where else would she go?”

  The messenger cringed. “They have not seen her, my lord.”

  His liege hunched down in his chair until he resembled one of the gargoyles that crouched on the castle walls. His narrowed eyes, sunk deep in pouches of flesh, glared like those of a wild boar.

  “Did you leave instructions that they are to send a message immediately if she appears?”

  “I did, my lord. They will obey or suffer your displeasure.”

  “Pah! Much they care for my displeasure. They have the Princess Eleanor’s patronage and Edward supports his wife in all things.” He fell silent, his eyes mere slits while he thought.

  The courier passed a nervous finger around the neck of his cotte. A faint glimmer of hope appeared when his lord waved him back and shifted his malevolent glare to the sergeant.

  “Countless days spent searching for her on these lands because you thought she could not get far on foot, or was lying injured somewhere. Another day wasted for this fool to ride to Worcester and return with news I like not. What have you to say for yourself?”

  The sergeant stood expressionless under an accusation the courier knew was unjust, his liege lord being the one who had stated that the girl must be lost or injured, and then when it became obvious that she’d run away, that she wouldn’t get far on foot.

  “What are your orders, my lord?” the man enquired, wisely not venturing any defense.

  “Imbecile! What do you think? Send men out. Enquire at every town and village between here and Worcester, every castle and abbey, every manor and farm and serf’s hovel. I want the bitch found.”

  “Will she not tell some tale to explain her flight?” the sergeant asked.

  “And if she does?” The man thrust his head forward, a boar about to charge. “What can she say?”

  The sergeant took a hasty step back. “I don’t know, my lord.”

  “Then don’t speak until you do know. As for tales—” His mouth curved in a smile that made the courier shudder. “She was treated well here, clothed in silks and fine wool, fed the best meals my cooks could produce, even her own palfrey to ride whenever she pleased. No tale she tells will stand against that. I only need inform whoever has her that she fell into sulks over some thwarted whim and ran away to vex me.”

  “Then we should send word when she’s found, rather than seize her?” the sergeant asked.

  A frozen silence hung on the air while his liege considered the question.

  “That depends on where you find her,” he said at last. “If she is sheltering with the Church or some noble, send word.” His lips curled slowly. “We don’t want to startle the prey into further flight before the huntsman is at hand. But—” The vicious smile vanished. “If she has gone to earth elsewhere, seize her. And kill anyone who protests.”

  He glared at the sergeant a moment longer, as though challenging the man to argue, then jerked a thumb toward the door. “Go! Both of you. Find her. Fail and ’twill be you who will suffer my displeasure.”

  Almost unable to believe his good fortune, the courier bowed himself out. He didn’t even exchange a glance with the sergeant, but scurried away to his own quarters where he locked the door behind himself. No doubt a useless precaution, but it made him feel better.

  Less than a half hour later the thunder of hooves drew him to the tiny window slit in the wall. The sergeant and at least eight mounted men-at-arms were leaving at the gallop.

  The hunt had begun.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The sun was low in the sky when Annith walked down to the bridge later that day. Below her the Severn swept by, flowing sedately in places then swirling suddenly in eddies that told of dangerous currents beneath the surface.

  Her mind was like the river, she thought, pausing and looking over the low stone wall that edged the bridge. She couldn’t see into the depths, but she knew something frightening awaited her there.

  But frightening or not, she had to bring it to the surface.

  A wagon rumbled along the road, reminding her of the passing of time. Men were making their way in from the fields. Behind her, along Crofton’s main street, shopkeepers were beginning to put up their counters. The few people still about were walking with brisk purpose. She could not linger here; Herleve and Martin would be worried if she didn’t return soon.

  Fortunately, she’d had a good excuse to be out that afternoon: visiting the mother and son who had allowed her to walk back to town with them yesterday. The boy, Matthew, had been suffering from a fever brought on by a festering wound, and, with Master Purcell at the castle to assist his mother, she had left a message for Dame Eveta with the porter and had helped Matthew’s mother get him home. Once there, she had given advice on the proper care of his wound.

  She had known what to do. She couldn’t remember who she was, but she had known what herbs were needed to make a poultice to drain and cleanse the gash. She had known how to brew a tisane for the fever. ’Twas likely she’d learned those skills in the convent, but which convent? And why had she left it?

  When no answer was forthcoming, Annith huffed out a breath, turned, and continued across the bridge. Since this morning when she’d had that vague memory of a journey, she had thought to walk a little way along the road in the hope that more memories might be prised loose. At this hour there would be few people about to dis
tract her, and if she emptied her mind and just walked, mayhap her destination would come to her. After all, she must have been going somewhere before she’d been caught up in that mob of boys and struck on the head.

  A sense of urgency was gripping her now. ’Twas not only the knowledge that she could not stay with Martin and Herleve indefinitely that drove her on. There was Hugh, and the glimpse of the future he’d shown her this morning when he’d kissed her.

  She simply had to remember.

  But a few minutes later, when she reached a bend in the road, her past was still shrouded in impenetrable fog and there was no time to walk further. Nor did she want to go out of sight of the castle guards while she was alone.

  Annith stared down at the dusty road, shoulders slumped. Then, shaking off her disappointment, she started back the way she had come. She had reached the short stretch of road between the castle and the bridge when she heard hooves and the jingle of harness behind her. A few seconds later a horse and wagon drew level with her and stayed alongside.

  She glanced up at the driver. He was young and appeared respectable enough, if somewhat bold in the way he looked her up and down. His face was also vaguely familiar.

  “I know you,” he said, not bothering with a polite greeting.

  Her heart jumped, spilling ice through her veins. Did this boy know who she really was, or—

  “You’re the girl staying with Martin Fletcher and his wife,” he concluded.

  And through the pulse pounding in her ears, she remembered where she had seen him before. The tingling sensation in her hands abated. She took a steadying breath and quickened her steps.

  “What’s your name?” he asked, clicking his tongue to make the horse keep pace with her.

  “Annith,” she replied briefly.

  “You’re out late, Annith. On your own, too.” He glanced toward the trees on the other side of the road. “So, who were you meeting out here that you didn’t want Martin to know about?”

  “What!” She gaped at him, stunned by the question. “I have been out walking and am on my way home.”

  “Out walking.” He chuckled. “That’s a good one. There’s naught to see along this road.”

  “’Tis new to me,” she said with dignity.

  He grinned. “A girl who attends church every day shouldn’t tell lies.”

  “How do you know I attend church every day?” she asked, startled that anyone had noted the fact.

  “My mother told me. She thinks you must have seen someone there you like the looks of.”

  “By the robes of the saints!”

  He grinned again. “Hop up. I’ll give you a ride.”

  “Nay, thank you.” She returned her gaze to the road ahead. “’Tis not far and I prefer to walk.”

  “Now don’t be like that. If your fellow didn’t turn up, I’m always good for a little sport.”

  Annith stopped dead and plunked her hands on her hips. “I don’t know who you are,” she said, fixing him with a severe frown. “But instead of waylaying and insulting innocent people who are going about their business, you should be in church, giving thanks that you were not hurt in that misguided rebellion and praying for the souls of those poor unfortunates who died!”

  “Uh…” He cast a nervous glance toward the castle. “No need to bring that up. Besides—” He flushed, suddenly appearing younger and less certain of himself. “I have prayed for—”

  He was interrupted by the sound of a horse coming up fast behind them. The boy glanced over his shoulder, promptly slapped his reins against his horse’s rump, and removed himself and his wagon from Annith’s vicinity in a hurry. She turned her head to see who had caused his speedy retreat.

  Hugh de Verney was riding toward her on the black destrier she had noticed yesterday. He did not look happy.

  Annith didn’t have time to wonder about the grim expression on Hugh’s face. She was too busy trying to suppress the warm color that instantly rose to her cheeks. It wasn’t the first blush she’d had to contend with that day. Every time she’d remembered how she had allowed Hugh to kiss her, remembered the way his lean powerful body had felt against her softer form, she had felt warm and trembly all over.

  Fortunately, he was on horseback. If she didn’t look directly up at him, he wouldn’t be able to see her face.

  That happy thought was short-lived. Hugh caught up with her, reined in, and dismounted.

  “What,” he demanded without any preamble, “are you doing out here alone at this hour where any yokel can accost you?”

  Annith forgot about blushing.

  “’Tis still daylight,” she pointed out calmly, meeting his stern gaze with a steady one of her own. “I thought if I walked along the road I might remember where I was going, or where I came from.” She paused and sighed. “But it didn’t work, so I do not need a lecture. And besides, I was careful to stay within sight of the castle guards the entire time.”

  Hugh eyed her narrowly for a second or two, then his mouth curved in a wry smile. “You are the most tantalizing mix of practical resolve and sweet innocence that I have ever encountered, little dove. I would feel like a veritable brute if I delivered a lecture now, especially given your cause.” He sobered again. “But promise me you will not do this again. The next youth to make a nuisance of himself might be more persistent.”

  “He was only a boy. Over-bold and confident, but he forgot about that when I scolded him.”

  “Indeed? What if there had been two or three lads out looking for mischief?”

  She beamed at him. “I would have scolded all of them.”

  Hugh raised his eyes to the heavens.

  “After I had pointed out the guards, of course.”

  He laughed. “Come on, sweeting, I’ll take you home.”

  “Oh, nay, ’tis not nec—”

  But Hugh had already seized her by the waist and swung her up into the saddle. Her protest flew out of her head when he mounted behind her, gathered up the reins, and nudged his horse into a walk. She was sitting partially side-on to him, enclosed within his arms and nestled snugly against the solid length of his body. And with every movement of the horse, they moved, their bodies brushing together, moving apart, pressing closer. She could feel the steely muscles in his thighs, the pressure of his arms against hers, the controlled strength of his hands on the reins. Close proximity to such overwhelming male power was unnerving—and incredibly thrilling.

  “We’re going at a walk,” she observed faintly.

  “Of course, we’re going at a walk,” he murmured. “Do you think I’m going to forego whatever reward I can get for not scolding you?”

  “Oh.” Annith felt herself blushing again. “How…how did you come to arrive at such a convenient moment, my lord?”

  He laughed softly and nestled her more comfortably in the curve of his arm. “One of the victims of that extortion business I told you about was too ill to come to me, so I’ve been at his manor for the past hour, questioning him. And speaking of convenient moments, my sweet.” He slanted a meaningful glance down at her. “You have not yet given me your word that you will refrain from wandering about alone.”

  “I promise I won’t wander about alone,” she vowed obediently. “Next time I will take someone with me.”

  “Next time that someone will be me,” he growled in a tone that did not allow of any argument. But, for a fleeting instant, he touched his lips to the top of her head.

  The short ride was over a few seconds later. ’Twas just as well, Annith thought, as Hugh dismounted in front of Martin’s shop and lifted her down. She had been having a great deal of trouble keeping her head from resting against his shoulder.

  “I’ll be back after supper,” he said, setting her on her feet. He studied her face for a moment, then took her hands in his. “Don’t worry,” he ordered gently. “We’ll find out who you are and where you were going, I promise you. Our future rests on it, and I do not intend to let that go.”

  He released her
hands, mounted, and rode off down the street, leaving her gazing wide-eyed after him while his words echoed in her mind.

  * * *

  Supper had been eaten and cleared away, and night had fallen over the town when Hugh returned, this time on foot.

  Annith opened the door and motioned him into the shop with a murmured greeting. Still shaken by the unyielding purpose in his parting words, but afraid that a future with him might be impossible, she would have turned at once toward the kitchen, but Hugh reached out and wrapped his fingers around her arm.

  “Still shy with me, little maid?” The note of tender amusement in his voice set her senses quivering anew.

  “Everything is so uncertain,” she said, torn between caution and longing. “I don’t know what to do, or how I should be toward you.”

  “Be yourself,” he murmured, drawing her closer. “Believe me, ’tis more than enough. As for what to do—” He tilted her face up to his. “Marry me.”

  “But…”

  “Sssh.” His mouth touched hers, withdrew, then returned with a gentle pressure that was impossible to resist. There was no demand this time. He held her only with the touch of his hand and his mouth on hers, a tender cherishing that had her nestling closer until she could feel the rapid beat of his heart against her breast.

  He ended the kiss very slowly, supporting her when she swayed but putting a small distance between them. “Marry me,” he repeated softly against her lips.

  “I want to—” she began. Her eyes snapped open. He was watching her with hawk-like intensity. “Oh! Did you just kiss me to addle my wits so I would agree to marry you?”

  He smiled slowly. “My kisses addle your wits?”

  Well! She wasn’t going to answer that. With as much dignity as possible, Annith whisked around and stalked toward the kitchen. Hugh was right on her heels. In the second before she opened the door he leaned down and murmured, “When we kiss, little maid, all I can think of is making love to you.”