The muscle in Derrik’s jaw twitched when he had them within his sights. He took his time to study the other man. He was of average height with a slender build that indicated that he had no combat capabilities. Judging by his worn tunic, he was either a simple villager or a farmer. The bandage that covered his head earlier was gone, revealing the square face of a man in his late thirties.
They were following the stream, so the sound of rushing water muffled any sound that Derrik and his horse made. The other man was very poor at covering his tracks, although he looked behind him several times as if to see if anyone followed them. After a time, he was satisfied that they were alone, and he relaxed visibly, slowing down the pace of his mount. He began to do most of the talking while Amelie remained quiet, showing no signs that she wanted to part company with her kidnapper.
A short while later, the square-faced man pointed to an area beside the stream. They stopped and got off their mounts. The man tied both horses to a nearby tree before returning to Amelie with a small sack in his hand.
Dismounting from his own steed, Derrik tied it securely to a sturdy tree before inching closer to the small camp site.
His shoulders tensed when he heard a rustling noise over to his right. Grasping the hilt of his broadsword, he was ready to slash at whoever hid there. But after staring intently at the spot for a moment and hearing the noise again, his hand fell away from the hilt. It was only a rodent.
He crouched lower and continued to crawl through the tangle of bushes. Then when he was several paces away, he slowly parted the shrubs to get a clear view of the site. Narrowing his eyes, he scrutinized the figure that sat a little too close to Amelie. He couldn’t make out what they said, but it appeared that the other man had quite a lot to disclose. Amelie didn’t offer much to the conversation except to continue listening intently to what he imparted.
Derrik puzzled over why they stopped so soon. They were only half an hour away from the village, and it was too early to rest. What were they waiting for?
Soon enough he discovered that he was wrong. They were taking a rest. The man indicated to the ground, and the two of them began to gather a small cluster of dried twigs, brush and stones to create a cooking fire. He seemed well equipped, because as he dumped out the contents of his sack, Derrik caught sight of a number of items: a pewter pot, a leather flask and another small bag. Taking the pot over to the fire, the man poured the liquid from the flask, and dumped in what looked like dried meat pieces from the small bag.
A companionable silence fell between them. What exactly was Amelie doing with this man? It didn’t make any sense. Now as Derrik watched their interaction, he confirmed that Amelie was not coerced into leaving with this man. Suddenly an old, long forgotten emotion emerged. He was such a fool. Amelie must have laughed at his expense when he fell into a rage, trying to protect her honor.
But his turbulent thoughts calmed down slightly when he observed that no flirtation existed between them; there was no indication that they shared an intimate relationship.
He should just complete his investigation, go back to the royal court, and forget that he ever met Amelie. But unfortunately he couldn’t bring himself to return to his horse and ride away just yet. Amelie had a penchant for finding trouble and putting herself in dangerous situations. And for some absurd reason, he felt compelled to rescue her and see her safe. At the same time, he had an urge to strangle her for her reckless ways. His mood darkened as he watched them eat their stew. He had better things to do than hide among bushes, he thought in disgust. He made a move to crawl out from his hiding place. But just then, a rustling sounded behind him. And before Derrik could fully turn and dismiss it as another rodent, a man jumped out from the shrubs, and struck him hard across the head with a large stick.
“Help!” the man shouted, his stout face white with terror. He held the stick at shoulder height, his round shoulders heaving as if the exertion of attacking Derrik had winded him.
He groaned and cradled his head, wondering vaguely why this man shouted for help when it was clear that Derrik was the injured party. Bringing his hand down, he was surprised to see blood on his fingers. Normally he had all his bearings, but he was so focused on Amelie and the bald man that he didn’t even notice anyone creeping up from behind.
Running feet came from the other direction.
“Lester, what happ —?” The bald man stopped in his tracks, his jaw dropping.
Amelie came to stand next to him and gasped, “Sir Derrik!”
Lester tightened his grip on the stick, ready to swing it again. “I was on my way to meet you when I saw a courser tied to a tree. Thinking I should investigate, I came upon this brute.” His arms trembled. “Do you think we should tie him up? He looks dangerous.”
“We will not be tying anyone up,” Amelie knelt down beside Derrik. “Are you all right, sire?”
The concern he saw in her large brown eyes made him feel momentarily unsettled. He shook his head to free himself from the disconcerting sensation. Then touching his temples, he said, “After being bashed in the head, and developing a bump the size of an egg? Nay, of course I’m not all right.”
“Is that all you have? A bump on your head? No broken bones?”
Derrik slowly shook his head.
“Then I suppose you will survive,” Amelie said, leaning back on her heels. “Lester, help Sir Derrik up.”
Derrik glared at his attacker, and the man took a frightened step back.
“I don’t need help.” Grabbing onto the tree trunk next to him, he pulled himself up. He looked over at Amelie. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were leaving the stable?”
“I forgot,” she said, flushing and a guilty expression stole over her pretty face.
“Forgot?” Derrik repeated, his eyebrows rising. “How could you have forgotten to tell me that you were going off with a stranger? I thought that he lured you away. ‘Twas not that long ago that someone attacked you, or have you forgotten that as well?”
If it was at all possible, her face became even more flushed. “Alfred,” she nodded at the bald man, “told me that he knew where my father was,” she said, as if that statement explained everything, and there was nothing more to add.
“And so you decided to go with him,” Derrik said slowly. “Of all the —”
“I am sure that you would have done the same.”
“How do you know these people?” Derrik glanced over at the two nervous looking men.
“I do not.”
He gave a disbelieving shake to his head. But before he could say anything more, Alfred spoke up. “I know Lady Amelie, sire.”
He turned his cool gaze over to Alfred and the man cringed.
“I overheard that Lady Amelie was looking for her father,” the middle-aged man said, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “And since I knew where he was, I offered to take her there.”
“Why didn’t you reveal this at the beginning, when we were at the inn?”
“While I know Lady Amelie by sight, I wasn’t sure who you were, sire.” He gulped. “You claimed that she was your wife, but I know this to be impossible since Lady Amelie is unmarried. And,” he continued in a hesitant voice, “it appeared that she didn’t want to be in your company.”
Derrik made a sound of disgust. “So you were acting the hero, and decided to throw ale on my face.”
“’T — twas an accident,” he said helplessly. “I didn’t mean to do it, I’m sorry.”
“He thought you were a spy,” the man’s friend offered.
The bald man glanced over at Lester, and frowned at him before turning back to Derrik. “Aye, for some reason I had thought you were a spy, but Lady Amelie has since assured me that you’re trustworthy.”
Derrik looked over at Amelie, but she was staring at the ground, her expression pensive. He flicked his wrists, dismissing the other man’s words. From speaking with Alfred, he now saw that the man was harmless. “Where is Lord Stanbury then? Will you take me to him?”
“I don’t know —”
“Aye,” Amelie said, raising her eyes to Derrik. “Alfred and Lester will be taking me to my father, however you may come along.”