Lysbeth's tiredness deserted her, and she wriggled furiously to escape her captor's grasp, at the same time screaming at the top of her voice for help. Swearing lustily, the Roundhead let go of one of Lysbeth's arms and put his hand across her mouth. She bit it furiously, and with an oath he was forced to release her mouth for a moment, sufficient for her to let more screams escape. At the same time she was struggling to try and get away from him,, and it was with great difficulty he managed to secure her in such a way that both her arms were held, and he was able once more to stifle the screams by holding his hand over her mouth. He was almost choking her, as this time he was also holding her nose so she could not breathe. She was doing her utmost to kick him, but he was much stronger than she, and eventually managed to pick her up, and Lysbeth, her feet flailing helplessly in the air, was carried into the thicket. She felt the bushes tearing at her skirt as he pushed his way through, and was in despair. From the way she was being carried, Lysbeth could see little except some trees and the occasional open sky through gaps in the trees.
After what seemed an eternity, the Roundhead stopped, and Lysbeth renewed her struggles to escape. He set her down roughly on to the ground, still holding her arms twisted behind her.
'Will ye behave,' he asked, 'or must I hurt ye still more?'
Lysbeth could not speak for the hand over her mouth, but her furious eyes gave him answer. With a suddenness she was unprepared for, he released her, only to grasp at the edges of her riding habit. With a fierce jerk he tore the habit from neck to hem, and began to tear it from the girl. She renewed her struggles and her screams, but with a curse he hit her on the side of the head with such fierceness that for a moment she was partially stunned and unable to prevent him from tearing her habit away completely. Then he grasped her shift, and Lysbeth, in her dazed condition, could no longer resist him. She had fallen to the ground in her struggle, and was half kneeling, half crouching beneath the man. Her thoughts and impressions were so incoherent it was some time before she realised his grasp of her was gone. She had been released. She looked dazedly round and saw, a little to the side of her, the Roundhead bully rising to his feet, drawing his sword out of his scabbard as he did so. She glanced about her and to her amazement recognised Sir James Howard standing a little way off, and with his own sword at the ready.
Lysbeth exclaimed in surprise, and Sir James glanced briefly in her direction.
'Are you hurt, Mistress?' he enquired.
'I think not overmuch,' Lysbeth answered. Her voice, to her annoyance, seemed weak and shaking.
'Good.' Sir James nodded briefly. 'Then we will teach this rogue a lesson.'
Lysbeth looked at the Roundhead who had by now regained his feet. He was approaching Sir James cautiously, and he, with a grim smile on his lips, waited calmly. Lysbeth perceived they were in a small clearing, scarcely large enough to allow the two men freedom of movement. She pulled herself to her feet and somewhat feebly moved to the edge of the clearing so as to be out of their way, then sank down to rest her head against the trunk of one of the trees.
Sir James had not moved except to keep his sword pointed at his adversary, who was cautiously circling round him, looking for an opening.
Suddenly the Roundhead lunged, but Sir James parried the blow with insolent ease, and the Roundhead was forced to scramble somewhat hurried to regain his defence. For some minutes, they cautiously tried each other's skills, with the Roundhead making most of the attacks, and Sir James brushing them off with apparent ease and scorn.
The Roundhead suddenly tired of being thus played with, and began attacking in greater earnest. Sir James was forced to exert himself more to parry these attacks, then occasionally he lunged in his turn. Still he scarcely moved from his position, allowing the Roundhead to circle him as he would. The latter became more and more angry, as he tried all the ways he knew of forcing this impenetrable defence, and, being angry, he began to make mistakes. His lunges became wilder, his recoveries less certain, and his parrying of Sir James's ripostes more a matter of luck than any skill.
At last the Roundhead overreached himself. He saw what he thought was an opening, and thrust his sword high, reaching for Sir James's shoulder, but it had been a feint. Sir James parried, striking the Roundhead's blade out of the way, and then his own slim blade snaked in and under the Roundhead's guard, to sink into the man's body. The Roundhead gave but one gasp, his knees buckled, and he slipped slowly and grotesquely to the ground.
Sir James had pulled his sword away and stood looking down at his adversary.
Lysbeth, by now recovered, stood up. 'Is he dead?' she asked hesitantly.
Sir James looked across at her. 'Aye, he will trouble you no more.'
'I must thank you, Sir,' Lysbeth said. 'I know not what would have become of me had you not appeared so promptly. I am most grateful, believe me. Did you chance upon us, or had you heard my cries for help?'
'I was looking for you,' he replied, surprisingly.
Lysbeth stared. 'Looking for me? But why? How did you know I was here at this place? And why were you looking for me?'
'I did not know you were here precisely,' Sir James replied, smiling down at her. 'I scarce expected to find you almost on the battlefield, and when I heard a woman's cries for help I did not connect them with you.'
'Please, Sir James, will you not explain? Why did you wish to find me?'
'Your brother asked me to promise, before the battle, that if anything – ' He stopped abruptly, and for the first time in Lysbeth's presence, seemed out of countenance.
She realised what he was about to say, and looked at him gravely. 'I was with Arthur, Sir, at the end. I know.'
He inclined his head gratefully. 'Then I do not have to break that news to you, Mistress. As I was saying, Arthur asked me to take care of you should I survive and he not.'
'He asked you?' Lysbeth began in surprise. 'But why you? And what do you mean, by taking care of me?'
'Your brother had to ask someone,' Sir James informed her somewhat brusquely. 'I certainly had no desire for the task, but Arthur was my friend and I would do anything I could for him.'
Lysbeth blushed at his tone. 'I do not desire that you take care of me, Sir! I cannot imagine why Arthur should desire it of you. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you.'
Sir James did not answer, but walked across the clearing and picked up the habit which her attacker had torn from Lysbeth. He turned, and still without a word, handed it to her, holding it so that she could slip it on. Made suddenly aware of her semi-clothed state and torn shift, which she had entirely forgotten, she blushed rosily and thankfully turned so that she could slip her arms into the sleeves, at the same time hiding her face from Sir James. But she was unable to fasten the habit, as it had been so ruthlessly torn, and Sir James was fully aware of her difficulty.
'Turn round,' he ordered in a gentle voice. 'I have some cord here in my pocket. We could contrive a belt.'
As she did not immediately respond, he took her by the shoulders and twisted her to face him. Swiftly and skilfully he put the cord round her waist, and tied it so that the habit looked respectable again. Lysbeth, who had kept her head bent during this operation, risked a glance up at him, but the look in his eyes, an amused sympathy and something she could not name, caused her to blush even more.
'I thank you for your rescue of me, but your obligation to my brother need not concern you any longer. I cannot imagine what Arthur had in mind.'
'I do not think he expected me to take charge of you permanently,' Sir James reassured her, a gleam of amusement in his eyes, 'and I fear that might be a task beyond me.'
Lysbeth pursed her lips, but did not deign to reply.
'Arthur was worried about your being close to the battlefield, and I promised to escort you back to Yorkshire. That is all.'
Lysbeth was about to protest again that she needed no such escort, when she saw Sir James wince and put his hand to his leg. She moved a step towards him.
'Are you hurt?'
' 'Tis but a slight cut.'
Lysbeth gazed at him with horror. 'But he did not touch you! He could not come near you all the time you were fighting.'
Sir James shook his head. 'No, no, 'twas not this fellow, but some other of his pernicious army.'
'You were wounded in the battle?'
'Aye, but 'tis a slight one. It was bound up. 'Twill be all right, it but pains me a little after my exertions.'
'Was it a deep wound? Has it opened again? Have the bandages slipped? Sir, I must look. Sit you down here.'
Sir James tried to protest, but Lysbeth moved across to him and took his arm.
'Come, sit here and rest. If you have aggravated the wound, 'tis because of what you did for me. I must see it. Sit here while I see if the bandage is still in place.'
Sir James began to move across the clearing towards the shade, and he had taken but a couple of steps when to Lysbeth's horror, he was forced to lean heavily on her.
'I will sit here,' he said, and sank down to the ground before she could proffer him any assistance.
She looked at him worriedly. He had suddenly gone very pale under his tan.
'Lie down,' she commanded. 'Lie down.'
He did so, and Lysbeth was able to see his leg for the first time. It was covered in blood. She could see a rough bandage had been tied round his upper leg, and his breeches, which she now saw had been torn, were arranged roughly over the bandage. As she had thought, his exertions had caused it to loosen, and blood was still oozing from beneath it. Fortunately, Lysbeth had seen such wounds before, and she was able to deal competently with it. She quickly tore some more strips of linen from her shift, made a pad to go over the gash, which she saw was rather deep, and then bound it up tightly. The bleeding seemed to have been staunched, and Lysbeth ordered Sir James to stay where he was for a time.
'I did not realise you were wounded when you fought that wretched man,' she said quietly. 'I am yet more grateful, and hope you have not come to any harm from it.'
'I shall do,' Sir James smiled at her, the colour returning to his face. 'I left my horse at the edge of this belt of trees,' he told her, 'where I found your mare. Let us hope they are still there.'
'Shall I go and see?' Lysbeth suggested quickly. 'You must not move more than necessary.'
'I hesitate to ask you to do this,' Sir James answered, 'but methinks 'twould be best.'
'I will go and it should be possible to bring them back here, and we can mount you with the least possible exertion.'
He nodded and smiled at her, and she was suddenly very aware of her torn habit. He had a most attractive smile. She clasped the torn edges to her, and trying to ignore the amused look in his eyes, she stood up and turned to leave.
'I will not be long,' she threw back over her shoulder as she marched across the clearing.
' 'Twas not that direction, Mistress.' His voice halted her, and she turned round. 'Over there, by the holly tree. That is the way out.'
Lysbeth changed her direction without answering, and quickly made her way to the edge of the trees, where, to her relief, she found the horses contentedly cropping the grass.
*
Polly came immediately she called, and nuzzled her hand, and the other horse, a huge black animal, merely regarded her with interest as she approached him and grasped the bridle. Leading both horses along the narrow track through the trees was a somewhat difficult proceeding, but Lysbeth eventually managed it and brought them into the clearing. Sir James was lying where she had left him, and he was so still that for a moment she almost panicked. She ran over and knelt beside him, feeling anxiously for his heart, but when he opened his eyes and smiled at her, putting his own hand over hers, she turned away in some confusion.
'I thought, Sir, you were so still – '
'I was resting to recover my strength,' he replied. 'It is a necessary accomplishment for a soldier. There is food in my saddlebag, and a flask of wine. Could you bring them here?'
Lysbeth nodded and stood up, glad of something to do. She found the food, chunks of bread and slices of meat, and brought it over to him. Fetching the wine flask, she offered that to him first, and he raised himself on one elbow in order to drink from it. They shared the food, and Lysbeth, who had had nothing since very early morning, suddenly realised how hungry she was. After this repast, Sir James seemed much better.
'We must move soon,' he told her. 'We have been fortunate not to have been disturbed ere this, but the Roundheads will be combing the countryside soon, and we must hide from them.'
'Where can we go? Would it not be better to remain here for a time? We are hidden. If they have not come yet, they will probably not come at all.'
'I think not. We are too near the battlefield, and there are too many of them for us to hope to remain hidden for long. 'Twere best if we put a few miles between ourselves and Naseby Field, then we can search for a place to hide during the night.'
'Are you fit to move yet?' Lysbeth asked anxiously. 'You appear to have lost much blood.'
'I can contrive, if you can assist me to mount.'
They had finished eating, so Lysbeth repacked the saddlebags, made sure the girths were tight, and then turned to offer Sir James her assistance. He had risen and was hobbling towards her, a grim expression on his face. To her anxious query he shook his head. 'It is nought.'
She held his horse steady while he pulled himself up into the saddle, and then went to her own mare and mounted. Without a word, Lysbeth took the lead, and they made their way out of the wood. The summer twilight was now around them, but apart from the occasional shouts and glimpses of soldiers in the distance, they encountered no one. The local people were obviously keeping well out of the way of the soldiery, and fugitives from the battle had largely been rounded up, or had managed to leave the area before now.
Despite the need to go slowly, they covered three or four miles before it became too dark to see clearly.
'We must look for somewhere to spend the night,' Sir James said quietly. 'I think yonder barn would be as good a place as any if we can come up to it unseen.
Lysbeth hesitated. 'Could we not ask for shelter at a cottage? We could obtain help for your wound.'
'It were better not to reveal our presence if we can avoid it,' Sir James said firmly. 'The army will be looking for fugitives for several days yet.'
Lysbeth could not argue with this, and they made their way to the large barn standing beside a wood. They approached cautiously, looking carefully around, but no one appeared to be about, and they reached the door of the barn unobserved. Lysbeth slipped from the saddle and went to open the door. In the gloom she could see little of the interior, but the sweet smell of hay told her that at least they would have a comfortable bed.
She pulled the door open further, and led Polly inside, Sir James following on his horse. Once inside, he eased himself gingerly out of the saddle and dropped to the ground.
'Are you all right?' Lysbeth queried anxiously.
'Somewhat stiff and sore,' he replied, 'but I shall do, thanks to your help.'
'Lie here, in this corner,' Lysbeth suggested. 'I will take the horses to the stream we passed to water them, then tie them up at this end of the barn. Do you want some more wine?'
'I think not,' Sir James replied. 'It is an imposition for you, having to deal with the horses.'
'Do not fear, 'tis not the first time I have done such tasks,' Lysbeth assured him, and swiftly and competently unsaddled the horses. Without another word she led them outside, and stood with them at the edge of the stream while they drank their fill. She gazed round at the peaceful, sleeping countryside, scarcely able to recall the furious battle she had witnessed earlier that day, and the loss of her beloved brother.
She led the horses back into the barn, tethered them to convenient rings in the wall, and made sure they had plenty of hay within reach. By now it was completely dark within the barn, and she had some difficulty in finishing these tasks, but finally she was able to make her way to the other end of the barn, guided by whispers from Sir James. Wearily she flung herself down on the hay.
'Do you need aught more?' she asked. 'Will you be warm enough?'
'I've pulled hay over myself. You do the same. It is one of the best ways of keeping warm.'
Lysbeth did as he suggested, and had scarcely covered herself with the sweet-smelling hay before she was fast asleep.
*