Amelie left Derrik speaking with the stable boy and wandered beyond the gate. The boy’s recount was almost exactly what the inn keeper had told them. There wasn’t anything new to learn. All she knew was that her father was hurt, and that he was somewhere in the woods, wounded and possibly dying. Her heart constricted painfully at the thought.
She walked along the side of the inn, trying to recall the image of the Lord High Steward, Duke of Hangrov. There was no question that somehow Roldan de Calmette was involved in this mess. Her uncle was the only person who resembled the inn keeper’s description. She could easily tell the two brothers apart, but others mistook them for each other. This was one of the reasons why her father shied away from the royal courts. But what was Roldan doing here at Wykeham, miles away from the Royal Palace? And what business did Lord Stanbury have with his brother that they couldn’t meet at the castle?
It just didn’t make any sense. Her uncle was one of the most powerful men in England. He regularly counseled the king on matters of the state, and if the king was away, he had the capacity to act as the temporary viceroy of England. He was also a duke to a robust region in the east. From what she heard, Roldan was a competent and loyal servant to the king. No one would cross anyone with that kind of ranking and influence. If they did, they would likely get killed for their daring.
Was it possible that her uncle was the true conspirator and not her father? She didn’t want to point an accusatory finger at Roldan, and anger such a powerful official. But there were witnesses who saw him here, witnesses that were afraid to speak and who knew the truth. She mentally ticked off the people in her mind: the inn keeper, his wife, the stable master, and the stable boy. They recognized Lord Stanbury upon sight, since he was their liege lord, but they would not be that familiar with the Lord High Steward. Or if they were, they weren’t willing to reveal that information.
Once again, Amelie wished she had a chance to speak to the people in the tavern last night. Other people must have seen the altercation as well. And they might possibly shed light on some other aspects that the other witnesses had missed.
She made it to the front of the Fox Trail Inn. From where she stood, she had a full view of the village square. Since today wasn’t Market Day, the square was virtually empty except for a handful of children playing ball and a straggly hound sniffing the vicinity for scraps. The main road was muddy from last night’s rain fall, and the air was slightly cool, but no one seemed to care. The village consisted mostly of farmers, and they were already in the fields, working the land. Not surprising, there wasn’t anything to see, so she retraced her steps to the back of the inn.
Her father would have been ambushed on his way to the stables; the stable boy didn’t know where the attackers had hidden. Walking to the spot that the boy had indicated, she crouched down and picked up a small rock. If she could recreate the scene in her mind, and perhaps get into her father’s mindset, maybe then she would discover something. Turning her head, she saw two empty ale barrels along the outer wall of the inn. Right beside those were three large bushels of hay. There was plenty of room for someone to hide between the neatly tied bushels, and then jump out at an unsuspecting victim.
She also noted the low-lying wooden fence that rose to waist height and which surrounded the small stable area. It was possible that the attackers hid there as well.
The stable boy had said that her father was slashed in the chest. Then after he was injured, he ran into the woods behind the inn. She slowly scanned the area, taking in the thicket that was about ten feet away. Despite his wound, Lord Stanbury would have run to the trees and somehow escaped from his attackers.
Getting up, she tossed the pebble aside.
There were just too many places to hide, and even if a person was on his guard, he was an easy target. She wondered what Derrik thought about all this. He seemed watchful and listened to everyone’s recount quite intently. She had to remember to ask him if he agreed with her theory.
Her eyes scanned the wooded area once again. But what happened to her father after he escaped into the forest? Did wild animals smell the scent of his blood and go after him? Or was he able to find refuge in a hallowed out tree or some other place of shelter? She frowned. Amelie wasn’t satisfied with any of the scenarios that her mind painted. The first one, she didn’t want to think about. But the second one was equally as grim. If Lord Stanbury hid in a shelter, he would be alone and his wound was likely festering.
Sighing almost in defeat, she reached up and squeezed the base of her neck to ease away the tension. Questions. So many questions and there were no satisfying answers. The eyewitness evidence indicated that Lord Stanbury met Roldan in order to persuade him to betray the king. If this was correct, then Roldan was right to implicate her father for the highest crime against the kingdom.
“Nay,” she muttered to herself. She bunched her fists at her sides. “I refuse to believe this. ‘Tis likely the other way around.”
A small rustling sound, almost indefinable, caught her ear, and the hairs at the back of her neck suddenly rose. What was that? She cautiously looked all around her.
When no other sound followed, Amelie let out her breath in a rush, not realizing until now that she held it. She brushed at her arms, trying to rub away the gooseflesh that appeared there. It was just another cat. She didn’t know why she was so jumpy. Most likely she was growing used to having Derrik at her side, and being away from him made her uneasy.
Except through all her reassurances, her uneasiness increased. She couldn’t shake the feeling that someone watched her. Her mind flashed to the ominous warnings that Margery ingrained in her head, remembering all too well the perils that faced unprotected women. There were all kinds of petty criminals and outlaws that could be lurking about. And none of them would have any qualms about killing a woman, no matter who she was.
“’Tis nonsense,” she said under her breath. “They are just stories Margery told to intimidate me.”
She placed her fingertips to her temples and began to circle the spots. The lack of sleep was truly getting to her, she decided. Her mind was too active and sensitive to the slightest sounds, and she was starting to hallucinate. But even as she told herself this, she wasn’t fully convinced, because it was as clear as the morning sky that some menace lurked nearby. And then as her mind recalled Ester’s warning and the attacker who ambushed her at the Healer’s cottage, a new fear began to take hold. Suddenly she realized that leaving Derrik’s side wasn’t the most sensible thing to do, especially in a village where no one knew her.
Amelie made her way quickly to the fenced off stable area. Being in Derrik’s presence was definitely preferable to this eerie sensation she now experienced.
She almost made it past the hay stacks when she saw a shadowy movement. Turning her head quickly, she prayed that it was only the trick of the morning sun. And as she glanced over at the stable, she could hear Derrik’s baritone voice coming from within. Relief washed over her; Derrik was close at hand.
But her relief was short-lived. All of a sudden there was another movement, and this time there was no mistaking what it was.
With her heart in her throat, she turned to run back to the safety of the stable, but a man jumped out from behind the hay bushel, and jerked her forcefully back as if she was a mere cloth doll.
Amelie let out a startled cry just before the man’s hand clamped over her mouth. Nay, she thought frantically. This couldn’t be happening to her yet again!
***
Derrik frowned and looked over at his courser just as the horse’s ears perked at a strange muffled cry. He whipped his head over to the open door.
“I heard something,” the stable boy said, his face ashen.
Derrik looked over beside him. “Where is —?” he stopped short. The scowl on his face deepened as he quickly scanned all around. And when he couldn’t locate Amelie, he closed his eyes briefly, his worst fears confirmed. “Of all the idiotic things!” he cried. The woman had a knack for getting into trouble, he thought furiously. As soon as he turned his back, she was gone. No doubt she was the one who cried out just now.
As he let out a string of explosive curses, he sprinted for the exit. Then, bursting out into the small yard, he startled a half-dozen geese, and scattered them in every direction.
Amelie was nowhere to be seen. He ran through the open gate and around to the front of the inn. With fear and fury raging in his heart, he leaned on the wall of the building to catch his breath. When he looked down the dirt road, it was just in time to see a man — the same man who he beat up last night — leading Amelie away on a horse. Derrik pushed away from the wall. “Amelie!” he called out.
But she didn’t hear him. They were almost at the end of the road when they abruptly turned a corner. As far as he could see, no houses existed on the route that they took.
He cursed again. They were far enough away that even if he ran, he wouldn’t be able to catch up to them. He needed a horse.
“Where is he taking her, sire?” the boy said breathlessly at his side.
“I wish I knew,” he said, his hands curling into tight fists. Now he regretted that he didn’t cause more damage to the man. At least if he had, then the man would not be in any condition to lure Amelie away.
He slowly unclenched his fists. What was it about Amelie that made her ignore his counsel, and fall heedlessly into danger at every turn? He should just return to the Royal Palace, and present his findings to King Edward. But even as that idea cropped up in his mind, he knew he couldn’t just leave her. He couldn’t forget the muffled scream that he heard. Amelie would not have cried out if she was only greeting a friend, would she? And from her reaction last night, it didn’t appear that she knew her attacker.
From all appearances, Amelie left with the stranger out of her own free will. But if she was somehow tricked in leaving with the man, then she was in danger. And if anything were to happen to her, he would never forgive himself.
“Bring me my horse,” Derrik snapped. “And be quick about it.”