Chapter 18

 

Alexia made it past the village walls before she heard the hounds barking, the horse hooves pounding, and the knights shouting at the villagers to move aside. Potz! She’d forgotten about LeGode’s dogs, the sound of their fast pursuit only confirming his betrayal. Her heart ached at the thought as she tore off her tunic, exposing the breeches she wore beneath, and pumped her legs as fast as she could across the open field, dark now in the thick of night. The splat of mud and huff of her hard breath rose to mingle with the howling behind her.

All this time ’twas LeGode!

Leaping over a boulder, she entered the forest and reached inside a hollowed-out tree for her bow. In one swift move, she tossed the quiver and bow onto her back and dove into the thicket.

LeGode was poisoning her sister. For what purpose?

She wove around a tree and took the path to her left. Thanks to a moonless night, she dove deeper into a darkness she prayed would hide her from her pursuers.

But not from the hounds whose barks grew ever louder.

LeGode was the one who had wanted her dead. She’d trusted him!

Her heart shriveled as she leapt over a fallen tree, unimpeded by the dark night. She knew this forest, every tree, path, boulder, and creek. Swiping aside a prickly thicket, she jumped onto a low hanging limb and grabbed the branch above her, then swung up onto the next branch and the next, higher and higher until she was well out of sight.

What a fool I am! The friar was right. She hadn’t been ready. Her rampant emotions had stifled her powers of discernment.

The barking grew louder. The sound of horse hooves was soon replaced by boots and shouts of men.

Alexia laid a hand over her thigh where the Spear was hidden. “Father, protect me. ‘Let all mine enemies be ashamed and sore vexed: let them return and be ashamed suddenly’,” she quoted from Psalms. Then taking a deep breath, she leapt onto a limb of the next tree and thus, flew through the forest, aided by the stars above and the Spirit within.

Why would LeGode wish her and her sister dead? The question kept raging through her mind.

Minutes later, out of breath, she stopped, leaned against the large trunk of a maple tree, and glanced behind her. Flickering lights bounced up and down through the forest, appearing and disappearing through leaves and trees like malevolent fireflies. Hounds growled and snipped. They were close. Too close.

Heart in her throat, she closed her eyes. Shadows, black and empty crept along the forest floor, hovering over leaves and dirt, oozing over rocks and logs, slinking around trees, leading the men directly to her.

Father, help me. She touched the Spear and shook the vision away. “In the name of Christ, you shall not catch me.”

Pushing against the trunk, she pulled an arrow from her quiver and nocked it in her bow. Mayhap, she couldn’t outrun the dogs, but she could injure the knights. And the fools were making perfect targets of themselves with their bright torches.

At least ten hounds burst through the brush and halted beneath her tree. Whining like demons deprived of their meal, they sniffed the ground then leapt onto the trunk, clawing the bark and growling as if they hadn’t eaten in weeks.

And she was their last supper.

Alexia pulled back the string, waiting…waiting…eyeing the bobbing torches.

A knight crashed through the leaves, then another and another.

She closed her eyes and released her bow.

A guttural moan echoed through the darkness. One knight went down.

“Douse the torches!” another ordered, and within seconds the lights disappeared and smoke curled into the night. A dozen footsteps pounded toward her as the dogs continued to howl and jump on top of each other in an effort to be the first to dig their fangs into her tender skin.

Alexia blinked, nocked another arrow, and closed her eyes.

Nothing. She saw nothing!

But she heard something—the sound of someone climbing up the tree.

Returning her bow to her quiver, she grabbed hold of a branch above her and hoisted herself up and up, seeking a sturdy enough limb from which to leap to the next tree.

The knight was a good climber, much faster than she would have thought. His grunts and groans filled the air, along with the creak of wood beneath his weight. Terror threatened to undo her.

Forcing it down, she swung up onto another bough. Then holding her arms out for balance, she plunged through a web of leaves, praying the branch was sturdy enough to hold her.

The man’s breath filled the air behind her.

“Come hither, witch. Unless ye can fly,” he said with a snicker.

She suddenly wished she could, for the next tree was nigh two yards away and the limb beneath her feet grew more thin and wobbly with each step.

The dogs growled and yipped.

“She’s to your right, Gerald!” one knight yelled up to his friend.

The branch trembled beneath the weight of the man.

Alexia had no choice. Whispering a quick prayer, she dashed across the limb and leapt in the air for the next tree.

Arms and legs flailing through the darkness, she reached for a hold, any hold. But found none. Her fall was broken by a lower branch that sliced through her bodice. She groped to hold on, but her grip loosened, and she tumbled down again and struck another bough…and another…ere she landed hard on the ground.

She jumped to her feet to run, but pain throbbed in her ankle. Her legs buckled beneath her.

A pack of dogs leapt on her as if she were a slab of meat. Teeth dug into her arm. She screamed. Hot breath and saliva sprayed her. Dark masses slithered around her. The dogs’ faces, fangs extended and dripping were suddenly yanked back as the knights pulled them from her.

One of them jerked her to her feet. Pain burned in her arm. A thousand blades stabbed her ankle, and she nearly fell.

“Let’s get the witch back to the bishop.” She recognized Sir DeGay’s voice, though she couldn’t make out their faces in the darkness. The dogs continued to bark, angry at being restrained from their meal.

The sound of metal rasping against leather met her ears. A groan. A thud.

Uneasiness drifted over the knights.

“Tucker?”

No reply.

Shuffling ensued, a grunt, and a splat.

Sir DeGay shoved Alexia toward another knight and ordered him to watch her as he drew his sword. His men followed suit, separating from each other and peering into the darkness.

Should Alexia dare hope God had sent a rescuer? The knight shoved her against a tree and leveled his blade at her chest. Unable to bear weight on her ankle, she sank to the dirt.

Metal rang against metal and mayhem exploded before her. A shadow—nay, a man—wielding a sword fought two knights. Clang! He met one of their blades high, then shifted to his left and swung in low to slice through the man’s leg. Screaming, the knight fell. The other knight charged him as his friends, blades drawn, did the same. Six knights against one man. Impossible odds. Blood dripped down Alexia’s arm, along with her hope.

Instead of running, her rescuer flung his sword through the air as if it were a whip, striking one man after the other—swooping down on one blade here, slicing an arm there. His movements were lithe and swift. He was there one minute, vanished the next, only to reappear somewhere else. She’d never seen the likes of it.

Another scream wrenched the air. One more knight down. The stranger appeared out of the foliage to her right and knocked another man over the head with his sword hilt. Sir DeGay toppled to the ground.

Three knights swung about, growling and sneering like the dogs still straining at their leashes.

The man met the first knight’s blade then thrust low in a counter-parry. She had a good view of him now. Dressed in simple leather breeches, boots, and vest, he wore a black kerchief around his head with two holes for eyes.

The hiss of steel filled the air as he swiped metal on metal then swung to the right and met the next knight’s attack. He fought with such skill and speed, it seemed surreal, and she wondered if he were a warrior angel sent from God to protect her.

He thrust his blade forward, striking one man in the thigh. The three men holding the hounds tied them to a tree and entered the fray.

“Behind you!” Alexia shouted. The man guarding her slapped her across the cheek. Blinking through the sting, she watched as her rescuer spun just in time before the first knight ran him through. Caught off balance, he attempted to jump to the side, but another knight sliced through his arm. Growling, the rescuer shoved the man back with his blade then slugged him across the jaw. He toppled backward, struck his head on the tree, and slumped down to the dirt.

The dogs continued barking.

Another knight joined them and three knights circled the stranger, blades leveled.

Alexia could hardly breathe. The man guarding her shifted nervously from foot to foot. If she could but grab his blade…

The knights attacked with ferocity. Her rescuer skillfully fended off each blow, but they drove him backward. One of them managed another slice to his chest. He kicked him backward, but the knight quickly resumed his attack.

Another man in a mask marched into the clearing as if he owned the forest and took on two of the knights, quickly dispatching them both.

The man guarding Alexia lowered his blade. Fisting her hands together, she leapt toward him and knocked it from his hand. Momentarily stunned, he went to retrieve it, but she kicked him in the groin. He doubled over. She grabbed the sword and held it to his chest. Someone chuckled behind her, and the fallen knight glanced in that direction, cursed, then scrambled to his feet and dove into the thicket.

Spinning around, Alexia found her rescuers—two of them now—engaging the remaining knights with both sword and knife. Hoping for a quick escape—or at the least a slow, hobbled one, she dropped the heavy sword and shrank into the shadows. But the two strangers made quick work of their enemies, sheathed their blades, and headed her way. Without a simple by your leave, the first one grabbed her, flung her over his shoulder, and marched into the forest, leaving behind a pile of moaning knights and growling dogs.

“Took you long enough,” the man holding her said to his friend, who walked beside him, her bow and quiver in his hands.

She’d know that voice anywhere. “LePeine, you beast!” She pounded his back

“You seemed to have things in hand,” the second man replied, humor in his tone. “Besides ’twas fun to watch.”

The moss and needles of the forest floor transformed to grass, embroidered in silver from the starlit sky above.

Horse hooves thumped and Sir LePeine lowered her slowly down to the ground. Their bodies slid against each other so intimately, she couldn’t help but feel the gorged muscles beneath his doublet still twitching from battle. Heat swamped her as an odd ache formed in her belly. She tried to step away, but pain shot up her leg and she stumbled.

“Easy there.” He grabbed her waist and held her close, then tore off his kerchief and shook out his hair. Rescuer two did the same, and as she suspected ’twas Sir LePeine’s larger friend, Damien LaRage. Sounds drew her gaze up to Jarin the Just, who led three horses toward them across the clearing. The men no longer wore the knightly garb of the King’s Guard, nor boasted the Royal Crest on their shoulders.

She drew a deep breath, head swimming. “Bravo, gentlemen, you have saved me from LeGode’s knights. Now, if you don’t mind, I shall be on my way.”

Dismounting, Jarin handed the reins of one of the horses to LePeine. “Not very grateful is she?”

“I have never found her so,” came Sir LePeine’s reply.

“What do you intend to do with her?”

Damien snorted. “I say we take her back to the bishop.”

Alexia gave a lady-like growl.

“She’s no witch,” Ronar glanced her way. “She’s Lady Alexia D’Clere.” He gave a bow, and though she could not make out his expression, she sensed mockery in his tone.

She struggled against his grip, but to no avail. “All the more reason to release me. I am lady of the manor and should not be treated like a common wench.”

Jarin chuckled. “Ah ha! This lady is your Falcon, is she not?” He circled her and whistled. “I would never have thought so, but I find myself of the sudden opinion that all women should wear such tight breeches.”

Alexia grimaced. “Reserve your sordid gaze, Sir Jarin, for your strumpets.”

Damien rubbed his chin and snickered. “This little sprite is your fearless Falcon, Ronar? The one causing you so much trouble?”

“I am no one’s Falcon. I am—” She intended to reiterate her station to these buffoons, but Ronar picked her up by the waist and placed her atop his horse as if she weighed no more than a sack of corn.

“What are you doing?” She swung her legs on the other side, intending to slide off when he leapt behind her and wrapped arms of iron around her waist.

“We must not delay. LeGode’s knights may awaken and come after us.”

Damien mounted his steed. “Enough of this troublesome woman, Ronar. Falcon, witch, or lady, ’tis none of our affair. Keeping her from LeGode will not bode well for our mission.”

“Our mission is to find the Spear, and she may know of its whereabouts. Besides, we each took a vow to protect helpless ladies in distress,” Ronar said.

“There you have it, Sir Knights. I have never been helpless, and I am most definitely not in distress. Ergo, you may release me at once!” Alexia attempted to pry Ronar’s arms off her.

“She has a point, I’ll grant you,” Jarin said. “This helpless maiden did nearly kill us a sennight ago.”

Ronar tightened his grip. “Would you have me turn her over to those who would see her burned at the stake? Besides, there is something evil at Luxley, and I believe LeGode is in the center of it.”

“Where will you go?” Jarin asked.

“Rivenhall.”

“We will join you.”

Ronar’s horse snorted and pawed the ground. “Nay, ’twill draw too much suspicion. Return to Luxley. Tell the bishop I am on the king’s errand and will return in a few days. In the meantime, I will discover this forest sprite’s secrets. If she has the Spear, I will return with it anon.”

Alexia tried a new tactic and shoved her body backward against Ronar, attempting to hit his head with hers. Her back struck steel, her head a rock, and pain thundered through her already battered body. “I have no secrets and I’m not going anywhere with you!”

Jarin mounted his horse and stretched out his arm. Ronar gripped it. “Watch over Lady Cristiana. Whoever is poisoning her is still at the castle.”

“’Tis Sir LeGode!” Alexia hissed. “And she is my sister. I will protect her!”

“Impossible to do, my lady, whilst burning at the stake.”

“I will guard her with my life,” Jarin said.

“Stay away from her, you frothy varlet, you…” Alexia shouted, but the wind stole her voice as Ronar galloped away.