Unbidden (The Evolution Series)

by Jill Hughey

  “Rochelle!” David said sharply as her gaze meandered toward the view of the house over the wall, the twinkling of lamps visible in upstairs windows. She wanted to go there. She should rightfully be safe inside her house. But David — aggravating Bavarian! — spoke again, pulling back the blanket of numbness her mind kept wrapping around her. “Come to me.” He had let go of Sewell, keeping his spata pressed at the boy’s ribs. He held his free arm out to her. She walked woodenly to him, keeping a wary eye on the whimpering Sewell. As David wrapped his arm around her waist, she curled into his side. “Not yet,” he ordered. “Be strong a few more minutes and walk with me.” She did not want to walk. She wanted him to hold her. His arm urged her forward. She saw the spata in his other hand shining weakly in the night as he prodded Sewell ahead of them.

  The strange threesome moved almost silently through the dark until David whispered urgently, “I smell blood. Are you hurt? Are you cut?”

  She reacted slowly. “No,” she said with a hollow voice. “No, I do not think so.” Her neck was sore and her leg felt scratchy. Neither were sensations on which she could wholly concentrate.

  They were almost to the gate, unaccountably closed, with a torch burning in front. Who would have closed it?

  “Theo, will you open that gate?” David roared, startling Rochelle so much that she nearly spun away from him.

  “Working on it,” Theo called back. “The whole damned brace has been meddled with!”

  “Theophilus?” Sewell whined. “ Oh, God in heaven, he cannot see me here!” He broke away to run back toward his horse. David cursed under his breath as he stepped away from Rochelle. He pulled his semi-spata out of its sheath to quickly throw it, catching Sewell in the back of the thigh. The young man dropped with a shriek, then laid writhing and crying out in the grass, his hands clutched around his leg.

  A volley of inquiries erupted from behind the gate. “We are fine,” David shouted back. “Just keep working on that bar!”

  Rochelle swayed on her feet. David clamped his arm around her waist, guiding her to the hinged side of the gate. “Sit down here,” he said, trying to help her down.

  “No, I want to go inside,” she said, a hint of desperation in her voice.

  “Rochelle, is that you?” Marian’s voice cried.

  “Mother?” Rochelle answered, pounding against the gate. “Let me in!”

  “Sit down and be quiet!” David insisted. She turned, hurt and confused by his sharp words. Didn’t he know she needed his kindness? To make matters worse, she heard Theo rebuke Marian when she began to sob words in the native language she only lapsed into in times of deep distress.

  “Sit here, with your back in this corner,” David repeated. Rochelle let him lower her, then clung to his clothing like a child. He glanced nervously behind him as he pried her hands away. He swept his cloak off to wrap her in it. She buried her face in the folds, breathing in the smell and the warmth.

  He rotated to listen into the darkness. He waited, blade up. She had no idea why he was doing that. All she could hear were the two wounded men blubbering and Theo cursing at the gate.

  Muffled pounding erupted behind her. After a few minutes, the bar finally grated past its moorings. Rochelle began to rise. “Stay there,” David ordered firmly. She sank back down, bewildered. What in the world was going on? If she could only get back into the house, they could sort all this out.

  Magnus burst out followed by Theo, spata in the air. David shouted at Magnus twice to get him away from the newly terrorized Sewell and over to Rochelle. Doeg barely cleared the gate before he paused, a hood pulled up around his head that completely concealed his face in shadow. Marian pushed past him to rush to Rochelle.

  “Marian, check her thoroughly. Both of you stay there for now.” Marian looked back at him with confusion, but she nodded, turning to her daughter with a concerned murmur that quickly escalated to near hysteria. Rochelle forced herself to reassure her mother when all she wanted to do was close her eyes and think. The men clustered in front of them and Rochelle shushed Marian, hoping to hear enough to learn what had happened tonight.

  “What goes on?” Theo asked urgently.

  “There are two that I know of, both down but alive. One of them is her neighbor, Sewell. That must be all or the others would have come in for her by now.” David strode over to Sewell to pull his semi-spata free from the meat of his thigh. Sewell yelped. David yanked him to his feet, then promptly put him on the ground again by punching him in the face. Sewell threw his hands up, pleading.

  David shook his head as he jerked him up to his feet again. “You are the most pathetic excuse for a man I have ever seen. Doeg, go get the other one.”

  “With pleasure,” he said, striding off.

  David turned to Sewell again. “What is it, Sewell? It cannot be that you care about Rochelle, or you would not petrify her like this. It must be that you do not want me to have her.”

  “We do not want you here, Bavarian.”

  “Who is ‘we?’” David shot back.

  Sewell opened and closed his mouth a few times.

  In the distance, they heard a single shriek.

  David smiled wickedly. “It had better be more than you and your friend, that much is obvious. He is no more of a fighter than you.”

  “Rochelle is one of ours. She should not just be given to you. None of us even had a chance.”

  “You thought you would just take her,” David asked coldly.

  Sewell’s eyes slid to the side. “I thought she would want to go.”

  David hit him again, hard in the stomach. Sewell doubled over, then crumpled to the ground in a ball. “Apparently you were wrong. Based on your treatment of her, I would say she is better off with me,” David said harshly.

  Doeg appeared, dragging Fardulf’s limp form across the ground by an arm. He left him next to Sewell, then went to wait in the shadow of the wall. Theo pressed a hand to Fardulf’s neck before poking one finger against the wound in his leg. “Hellish deep, but I do not think he will die, at least not from that,” Theo said significantly. “Did you stab him?” he asked.

  “No, I think Rochelle did,” David replied, sparing her a brief glance. Did she imagine a glimmer of pride on his face at how she had defended herself?

  He turned away to circle the young men, obviously trying to decide what to do. He gave another worried glance to Rochelle, still huddled on the ground with Marian, both of them watching the scene in misery. “Theo, you can handle this from here. I want to get Rochelle inside.”

  “Agreed. There is no more threat. If there were more men involved, they would have moved when you were alone out here.”

  David looked intently in his eyes. “Find out what you can from them, and decide what you think is best, but keep them here. I will come back out when she is settled.”

  He pivoted, striding quickly to Rochelle and Marian. He squatted in front of them. Rochelle couldn’t meet his eyes. “Can I carry you in?” he asked softly.

  “No, I can walk.” He gave her both of his hands to help her to her feet. She stood still as he helped Marian up. She stared at the two men still on the ground. None of it made sense to her. Everything had happened so fast. One minute she’d been standing at the door of the stables, thinking about temptation and wondering, if she’d let David walk with her, would have taken the opportunity to kiss her? And then Sewell and the other boy she didn’t know had been behind her, urging her to get on their little pony.

  Marian clutched at her hand. “Come inside, girlie. Do not look at them any more. They cannot hurt you now. Come away from them. Please!”

  Rochelle sighed. Her mother had worked herself into a frenzy.

  When she passed through the gate, Gilbert and Ruthie rushed across the courtyard to them, torches held aloft. David spoke quietly. “Gilbert, go out to Theo. He may need rope or men.”

  Marian gave quick orders to Ruthie, but Rochelle could not focus on her words. As David guided her into the house
, she felt drawn to the fire in the hall. Everything was so familiar. Was it really just this evening, maybe one-half hour before, when she had left this room? “Could I sit by the fire for a moment?” she asked David.

  He eased her into a chair while her mother clucked worriedly around her. He stood back from her for just a second then grunted with concern as he grabbed her hands and turned them over. “Whose blood is this?” he asked, referring to the dried streaks on her fingers and palms.

  “Oh, no,” Marian sobbed from behind him.

  “It is from the other one, the one I did not know.”

  “Fardulf,” David supplied. He turned her hands back over but kept them gently cradled in his own.

  “Yes,” she agreed vaguely. “I do remember hearing Sewell say the name now.” She looked up questioningly at her mother. “Do we know Fardulf?”

  Marian’s fingers twisted in her tunic. “I can hardly think. But it does sound familiar. Somebody’s son. Further away than Sewell. Theophilus will know who he is.”

  “His blood is on you because you stabbed him?” David asked.

  Rochelle nodded. Her mother began to weep in earnest. Rochelle could see the annoyance on David’s face. She squeezed his fingers as she whispered “We cannot speak of this in front of her. It is too much.”

  He pursed his lips. “Hopefully Theo will find out more from them.” As he studied her face, he noticed something and his expression became thunderous. He let go of one of her hands so he could brush his fingers across her cheekbone. “Who did that?” he whispered.

  She brought her own hand up to prod at the bruise. She tried to dismiss it with a shrug, but his jaw was clenched tightly. “Who?” he demanded.

  “I am not sure. At the beginning, it happened so fast and it was so dark.” She quickly added, “Please, it is nothing to worry about now.”

  Ruthie tiptoed out of the kitchen. “The bath is ready, my lady,” she said in a whisper.

  Marian was able to lift her face from her hands. “Yes, yes a bath will be just the thing.”

  Rochelle smiled weakly. “A bath sounds nice.” David helped her up and again held her pressed against his side as they entered the kitchen. She slipped his cloak off and handed it to him with murmured thanks, then stood awkwardly with Marian and Ruthie, waiting for him to leave the room.

  He was loath to leave, she could tell. He barred the door that led out back and looked around the kitchen as if more Sewells could be lurking behind pots or under the table. Finally satisfied, or at least resigned, he ordered Magnus to guard her and returned to the hall.

  Rochelle allowed the women to pull her clothes off, only speaking when her mother ordered Ruthie to burn the tunic. “Do not be ridiculous, Mother. The grass stains can be cleaned.”

  Marian renewed her crying at the sight of a long scratch down Rochelle’s leg. She and Ruthie hovered around the tub, removing any hope of relaxing in the warm water. Rochelle washed quickly, then donned clean nightclothes, a cap and heavy robe Ruthie had brought down for her. The women were overly solicitous, treating her like a fragile glass. This, and her mother’s seeping tears, grated on Rochelle’s nerves. She wanted to understand what had happened to her, not be treated like a bruised flower!

  When they exited the kitchen, David rose from a chair he’d pulled up next to the door. Her audience of three waited awkwardly for her next move. David searched her face, then his eyes flicked impatiently at Marian. “I guess we should talk later,” he said.

  She surrendered with a sigh. “I suppose I should go upstairs.”

  Marian put an arm around her shoulders. They began to walk toward the stairs.

  “Rochelle,” David intoned.

  She turned expectantly, hoping for she didn’t know what. He seemed to want to tell her something, or perhaps ask a question, but his eyes again flicked to Marian.

  “Will you keep Magnus in your room with you?” he finally asked.

  “Are you going back outside?” she asked, her brow furrowing with concern.

  “For a little while, once I know you are settled for the night.”

  “Maybe you should take him.”

  “No. I will be fine.”

  She turned to climb the steps. As she reached the top, a frightening thought occurred to her and she turned back to him where he watched her from the base of the stairs. “You are not going far?”

  His face softened. “Just outside the wall to see what is what. No further.”

  “I would like to know what is what, too!” she said, starting back down the steps.

  “No!” Marian cried in panic, effectively stopping Rochelle’s escape.

  He stared at the closed door of her room for a few minutes, finally shaking his head to clear it. Clasping his cloak around him, he joined Theo outside the gate. Several torches had been set into the ground to light the area. Sewell’s little pony had Fardulf strapped across its back. Sewell stood in misery, hands bounds, a rope leading from them to Fardulf’s waist. Blood ran from his nose, and his lip was split.

  “Where are you taking them?” David asked without preamble.

  “A boy from here, Samuel, says he knows the way to Sewell’s house. He is willing to lead them there tonight. I thought I would fine them each 12 sous and be done with it.”

  David grunted.

  “If you want to do something more violent, say so. Death, removal of a hand or an ear, almost any punishment has in the past been justified for attacking a woman.”

  “It will not endear me to the locals,” David said.

  “No, that is what Doeg and I thought. They are really just boys.”

  “What the hell are they doing here?”

  “A bad plan poorly executed, as near as I can tell. He thought he was rescuing her.”

  “Rescuing her?”

  Theo nodded. “He would only say that people were telling him that Rochelle was unhappy with the match, but that it could be stopped if he married her first. I think he expected her to ride away into the night with him.”

  “And then?”

  “Marriage by abduction,” Theo said matter-of-factly. “An archaic tradition, and frowned upon by the law and the church, but not unheard of. If the relationship is consummated, then the rest is a foregone conclusion.”

  David felt his blood rising to a boil again. Marriage by abduction, indeed. It was a fancy term for rape. “Was that what this whelp had planned?”

  Theo snorted. “As I said, it was not much of a plan. When I asked him where he was taking her, the poor sod looked at me most wondrously. Don’t think it ever occurred to him that he would have to take her somewhere. His thinking had not got to that part of the scheme.”

  David paced back and forth, thinking. “He would not say who encouraged him to do this?”

  “No, I asked him a few times and thought I was making some progress when Doeg lost his patience. ‘I will make him talk,’ he said. Hence the bloody mess on Sewell’s face. He ended up crying on the ground and I got nothing out of him after that.”

  “And the other has not awakened?”

  “Out cold. Knot the size of a plum on the back of his head.”

  “Did Doeg do that too?”

  “Probably, though when I asked him about it, he only shrugged. I know you do not want to hear it, David, but your brother becomes weirder and weirder. Lurking around out here in that hood like some avenging angel. Scared Sewell to the point he could hardly talk. And that was before the beating.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “Went skulking off after rendering the boy completely useless.”

  David was accustomed to Theo’s complaints about his brother. While he could see that some of Doeg’s actions were irritating, and at times even counterproductive, he had infinite patience for him. They were, after all, brothers, and few understood the burden Doeg’s crippled arm placed on him.

  Theo shifted. “Shall I send these scoundrels home?”

  “I suppose. Do you trust Samuel?”

 
; “Gilbert suggested him. Seems hearty enough to handle these two, lamed and trussed as they are. He will tell the families what happened and hopefully they will take them in hand.”

  A young man approached them leading a rough nag. He looked at David cautiously. “I am Samuel. Are you the new master?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, then, I found this near the stables.” He held out his hand and let the links of Rochelle’s golden girdle slide onto David’s palm. “We none of us like to think of our lady bein’ hurt, sir.”

  “Of course you do not,” David answered, thinking that a sufficient response. Samuel continued to stand before him, shifting his weight as though expecting more.

  “The tenants will be worried, will they not, Samuel,” Theo said kindly as he raised his brow at David.

  David realized the boy was seeking more reassurance, and that whatever was said would be spread across the estate. “Your lady is quite well. She, in fact, made the wound in the one lashed to that pony.” He indicated Fardulf with his hand.

  Samuel’s eyes widened and he asked eagerly, “Wound him, did she? How, sir, how?”

  “She stuck her dagger in his thigh. To the hilt.”

  Samuel’s chest puffed out with pride. “Our lady is not like other girls,” Samuel said with awe before his face puckered with worry again. “But he did not hurt her?” David could not help to feel a kinship with the boy. He obviously revered Rochelle, and was genuinely anxious about her safety.

  “I am sure you will see her soon. I would not be surprised if she rides out as usual tomorrow.”

  Samuel leaned toward him, conspiratorially. “Do not let her go alone, sir. I bet this has somethin’ to do with that stranger we been seein’.”

  “Stranger?”

  “A gent, sir, riding all over just as he pleases.”

  “Not one of these men?”

  “Nah. Taller, lighter hair.”

  David glanced at Theo who shrugged. “Samuel, if you see or hear of this stranger again, come tell me, will you?”