Читать книгу By Queen's Grace - Shari Anton - Страница 10

Judith longed for the comfort of a thin straw mattress on a small cot, within the confines of her meager nun’s cell. No matter which way she twisted or turned, she couldn’t convince her body that the ground didn’t become harder or the night air less chilled.

Neither would her worry over what was to come ease, nor her disappointment in Corwin’s betrayal lessen.

Giving up on sleep, Judith sat up and wrapped the rough woolen blanket-which Thurkill had presented to her as if it were a feather-filled coverlet-more tightly around her shoulders. Scattered about the campsite, the men slept. All but Duncan, who roamed the forest to watch for the sheriff who Judith doubted would come tonight. The best she could hope for was that Duncan might awaken a hungry bear so she might be rid of the most belligerent of her captors.

She rose and stretched, then took two slow steps in an effort to bring some feeling back into her legs.

“Going somewhere, my lady?” Corwin asked softlyfrom where he’d bedded down several yards to her left. She saw no more of him than the bulk of his body lying on the ground at the edge of the clearing.

Earlier, she’d thought about stealing a horse and risking an escape. Wandering about in the dead of night in unfamiliar surroundings, however, didn’t seem a good plan. She would only become hopelessly lost and might come upon the hungry bear she wished on Duncan.

Judith ignored Corwin’s question to pose one of her own, not bothering to hide her disgust. “Does your guilt over betraying Gerard disturb your sleep?”

Corwin propped himself up on an elbow. “Nay, merely training. A soldier learns to sleep where and when he can, and then with one ear open and one hand upon his sword. I heard you get up.”

“These other men are soldiers and they do not stir.”

“Nay, they do not. They must trust Duncan to raise an alarm if the need arises. I do not have their confidence in him, so I listen for anything that might threaten our safety.”

“Including me?”

With a low, rumbling laugh, he answered, “Especially you. Should you have a dagger hidden beneath your robe you might be tempted to slit our throats while we slept. Come toward me a few steps and you will find a patch of long grass that will make a more comfortable resting place than the one you chose.”

Judith hesitated to move any closer to Corwin, a man who she should consider more her enemy than the rebels. Though she’d heard his reasons for wanting to join the rebellion, she didn’t understand how he could so easily turn traitor. When this hopeless scheme failed-and it would come to grief as earlier Saxon rebellions had-Corwin would receive the same harsh punishment as the others.

If he lived through the battles. Or unless she convinced him to turn from this path he’d unwisely chosen.

Maybe some unresolved dispute between Corwin and Gerard had clouded Corwin’s judgment, making him susceptible to a rash decision to seek a means of revenge. But by hurting Gerard, Corwin also hurt Ardith, and. Judith knew he genuinely cared for his sister.

Judith thought back to the day they’d met. Corwin’s concern for Ardith had been very apparent, and part of the reason Judith had been so drawn to him. True, she’d experienced a female’s reaction to a handsome, well-puttogether male. A woman couldn’t possibly look on Corwin without noticing the brilliant blue of his eyes, the angled perfection of his strong chin or the seductive tilt of his smile.

His looks had captured her attention. His tender concern for Ardith had touched her heart. As much as her head said to be wary, her heart longed for another glimpse of the man he’d been then, the man Judith prayed Corwin could still be.

‘Twas a practical thing she hoped for. If she could sway Corwin, he might aid her escape. Deep down, she admitted she wanted Corwin back as he had been for her own sake, too. She simply couldn’t have so lacked in judgment as to have thought fondly of a man capable of villainy.

Slowly, she moved toward Corwin. His face became more visible and the shape of his prone body more pronounced as she drew nearer. No blanket covered his chain mail. His broadsword lay before him, just beyond his longfingered hand, within easy reach.

He raised that hand and pointed to a spot a mere few feet from him. “Your royal bower awaits you, my lady.”

Royal bower, indeed. His tone conveyed humor, as if he teased her over the rebels’ plan to make her a queen. Judith withheld a rebuke. Any hope of swaying Corwin might depend upon how well the two of them got along. At one time she’d harbored no doubts they: could deal with each other quite well. Now she wasn’t so sure, but needed to try.

She settled onto the grass, noting the truth of hisassertion of greater comfort. “My thanks, Corwin, for your thoughtfulness in pointing it out to me.”

“‘Tis not thoughtfulness but self-defense. Tomorrow will be a long day, if I guess correctly. I will get no sleep if your restlessness keeps me awake.”

Again she bristled. “How can any day possibly be longer than today?”

“Thurkillwill want to put as much distance between him and the sheriff of Hampshire as possible. We will need to take to the road, steal you a horse-”

“Steal? But that is unlawful,” she said, hearing the lack of sense in her statement as soon as the words left her lips. Of course the brigands would steal a horse from its owner, just as they’d stolen her from the abbey.

“—and find you a different gown to wear,” he continued. “You stand out rather sorely garbed in a nun’s robe. Anyone who sees you will notice and question your presence in the band.”

Corwin didn’t look as if he belonged with the band, ei ther. “And you do not stand out sorely in your chain mail? All the others wear leather hauberks.”

He shrugged a shoulder. “People will see me merely as the leader of a group of soldiers, where you look more the bedraggled waif.”

She’d given no thought all day to how she looked, only how miserable she felt. No doubt she appeared untidy, mayhap thoroughly mussed, and she didn’t appreciate Corwin saying so. The man truly possessed no manners at all.

Judith took a deep breath to keep her calm. She, who took pride in remaining calm when faced with adversity, had lost her composure far too often today. Few people affected her so. Like Abbess Christina, when the nun pushed her beyond all patience. Now Corwin, who prodded her temper nearly beyond endurance.

But then, Corwin had no reason to treat her kindly, and the fault lay with her. Judith knew she’d been insufferably rude on their last parting. Though she’d regretted her actions afterward, she’d done nothing to correct the wrong. If their parting had been less harsh, would he now feel obligated to rescue her instead of joining the rebels?

No matter how Corwin felt or what he did, she’d been given the chance to apologize, if only to ease her own conscience.

Corwin had lain back down. Was he still awake?

“Corwin?”

“Hmm?”

Judith mustered her courage. Living among nuns allowed for few opportunities to do something she needed to apologize for, so she was sorely out of the habit. Certes, she also now owed a contrite apology to the abbess, so maybe practicing on Corwin wasn’t such a bad idea.

“When last we met,” she said, “I fear I was not as gracious as I might have been.”

A weak beginning, and she knew it. To her own ears she sounded stiff and insincere. In the deepening silence she sought stronger words, but before she could continue, he rejoined.

“Truly? I did not notice.”

His casual words didn’t ring true. She’d hurt him, or at least dented his pride.

“You did not notice that when we last crossed paths in the abbey’s passageway, I ignored your presence?”

“I must have been occupied with more important matters. ‘Tis late, Judith. Go to sleep.”

Not yet. She’d come this far, and the man would hear she was sorry whether he wanted to or not.

“When I informed Queen Matilda of your arrival, I offered to keep you company while Ardith spoke with Sister Bernadette. Matilda reminded me of my duty to my family, and bade me take care I not become too.friendly with a man not of my rank. I fear that in my inexperience with such matters I took her words to heart and treated you harshly. I merely wanted you to know I regret we parted on bad terms.”

He was silent for a long time: “You make too much of the matter, Judith. We who serve have come to expect no less than harsh treatment from those who place themselves above us-unless, of course, that person seeks a favor.”

“I ask no favor.”

“Do you not? If I said we could leave this camp right now, would you not leap to your feet?”

“Aye, but Corwin-”

“Save your breath, my lady, for I will hear no more. Daylight comes soon. Sleep.”

Judith plopped down onto the grass and wrapped the blanket around her. She’d wasted her breath. Let him join the rebels and hang with his fellows when caught in his treason. She no longer cared.

“Beast,” she uttered, just loud enough for him to hear.

Corwin didn’t refute her accusation as he watched Judith settle into the long grass.

Beast.

His words had been aimed at Duncan, who lurked in the forest not a few feet, behind Judith, more guarding the lady-or watching him-than keeping a lookout for the sheriff. Corwin hoped Duncan would relay his statements to Thurkill. Not only would it aid his cause, it might prod the band’s leader into finding Judith a horse and change of garments quickly. She would need both when the time came to make their escape.

To Judith’s way of thinking, he’d probably sounded beastly, and that after she’d tried to make amends. Had she been sincere in her apology, or only attempting to sway him into aiding her escape from her kidnappers?

Her words had come out too stiff for sincerity. Yet he could well imagine the queen warning her niece about involvement with men of unsuitable rank. Nay, ‘twas a ploy on her part, designed to soften his heart toward her so he’d change his mind about joining the rebels. Frankly, if he took her back to the abbey, she wouldn’t then mind what he did at all.

Corwin started to roll to his other side, wipe his mind of all thoughts and drift back into a guarded sleep. Then Judith yawned, a long, indelicate sound, and he stayed where he was-to keep watch over her, of course.

Damn, but she intrigued him. With each encounter Judith showed him another facet of her personality.

She could be gentle and caring, as she’d been with Ardith. The day he and Ardith had ridden to Romsey Abbey had. been a hard one for his sister. Judith had shown them to a private room and loaned Ardith one of her own robes. While Ardith changed, Judith led him down a long hallway to the kitchen, where she fetched food and drink.

Judith had talked to him the entire way down and backof what, he couldn’t remember. He’d been too wrapped up in his own worries over how Gerard was going to react if he returned early from his journey to find Ardith gone. But even now, Corwin could. envision Judith’s comforting smile, hear her soothing voice. Both had helped ease his turmoil before returning to Ardith and the sitting room.

Then Judith had left, obviously to tell Queen Matilda of Ardith’s arrival and purpose-to see Sister Bernadette, who might be able to determine if Ardith could conceive, thereby satisfying the condition on which she and Gerard would be allowed to marry. Matilda herself had come to lead Ardith to the inner rooms of the abbey, consigning Corwin to wait in the priest’s hut outside the abbey walls.

On his way out he’d encountered Judith again, in the passageway. She’d walked pasthim-eyes forward, chin tilted upward, lips pursed-as if he didn’t exist. His saying her name brought no reaction, not even a hitch in her purposeful stride. All thoughts of thanking her for her tender care of Ardith had fled, and he’d carried that memory of her with him out the abbey door and through the years.

Then today he’d seen her temper-fiery indignation expressed with flashing eyes and vivid threats. No meek girl in evidence there! No haughty royal heiress, either. Simply a woman promising retribution for the wrong done to her.

Corwin smiled at the thought of Thurkill and his lord expecting Judith to meekly accept her fate. She found the, thought of being used to further the rebel lord’s aims abhorrent, and would fight.

But then, a woman’s protests against ill use usually went unheard by men greedy for power and wealth. Corwin knew of several ways a woman could be forced to marry against her will, and no doubt the rebel leader planned to use such force against Judith if necessary.

Not that Corwin would allow it, or even let the situation advance so far. No matter what Judith truly thought of him, he wouldn’t let the rebel leader abuse her. Once he learned the name of the leader and the location of the rebel camp, he and Judith would be off to London-Corwin to inform the king of the uprising, Judith to return to the protection of her royal family.

‘Twas best, for now, if she believed him to be a beast. He could only hope that when he found the right time to tell her of his true purpose, she would believe him and cooperate.

Corwin led the company out of the forest and onto the narrow dirt road. After clearing the woods, he moved his horse aside to allow Thurkill to take the lead. As Corwin suspected he would, the man headed north toward Oxford. Likely they would travel far beyond the city, for no man could gather an army large enough to challenge the king within southern England without someone noticing. In the wilds of the far north, however, no one would be the wiser. Too, the men of that region had always been the most eager to challenge the Normans.

Corwin gave a brief thought to the company he’d led out of Wilmont, and hoped William would do as commanded and escort the wagons, lumber and carpenters to Cotswold. Then Corwin slid into line several paces behind Thurkill, knowing Gerard would approve of his abandoning that duty to take on this task of higher purpose.

Thurkill set a lively pace up the rough road, merely a wide path of dirt deeply rutted by wagon wheels. Corwin kept watch on Judith, who rode pillion behind Thurkill, just as he knew the two men behind him watched his every move.

As the morning wore on, watching Judith bounce on the horse’s rump became harder. She would be sore this night, as she’d been sore the night before. There was no help for it. To evade the sheriff, they must keep up the pace.

Nearing midday, Judith’s right hand released its hold on Thurkill’s hauberk. She made a fist and hit him hard on the shoulder. Corwin bit back a smile. Had Thurkill refused a request to halt one too many times?

Corwin urged his destrier forward to come alongside Thurkill. “I know of a cave not far ahead where we might take a rest.”

“I have no wish to rest. The sheriff-”

“Will not find us there. ‘Tis a truly secluded site.” Corwin shrugged, as if uncaring one way or the other. “I think of your horse, Thurkill. He carries a greater burden than the others. But if you wish to go on, I will not object”

“Aye, think of your horse, Thurkill,” Judith said in a sarcastic tone. “Thisburden he carries would be most pleased to cease bruising his boney backside.”

Thurkill rolled his eyes heavenward. Had Judith been giving the man an earful of complaints and snide remarks all morning? Possibly.

The victim of a kidnapping, Judith had every right to protest. Her mind-numbing, hand-trembling terror had passed, but not her fear. She used anger to mask it, but Corwin didn’t want her to goad Thurkill too hard. The man might be under orders to bring her safely to his lord, but every man had his limits. Coping for hours on end with Judith’s sharp tongue might be more than Thurkill could tolerate.

“The cave is but a few minutes away if you care for a respite,” Corwin said.

Thurkill studied him for a moment. “How do I know you do not lead us into the sheriff’s snare?”

“You do not know if I lead you into a trap, just as I do not. know if you lead me into one at journey’s end. You will have to trust my word.”

“Humph. How does one villain learn to trust another?” Judith interjected. “Neither of you deserves anyone’s trust.”

Through clenched teeth, Thurkill ordered, “Find the cave.”

After a few moments of searching, Corwin found the overgrown path he sought, and at its end, the cave. Brush hid the mouth of the cavern located halfway up a steep hill. A stream bubbled along at the base. The narrow sloping path from the stream to the cave proved a challenge for the horses, but all made it up without incident.

Corwin dismounted, planning to help Judith down from Thurkill’s horse. Oswuld beat him to it. ‘Twasprobably for the best. The less he had to deal with Judith just now, the better. Her hands pressed into her back, she walked stiffly toward the mouth of the cave, with Oswuld a step behind her.

“How know you this place?” Duncan asked, his voice echoing in the large chamber. “‘Tisrather far from where you say you live.”

Corwin noted the suspicious undertone in Duncan’s question. “‘Tis far, but a friend and I once used this cave to shelter from a storm. Luckily, Stephen knew of its existence.”

“Thiscompanion you speak of must travel much to know of so remote a spot.”

Corwin slid his hands from his riding gloves, thinking of Stephen, his best friend and Gerard’s youngest brother. Aye, Stephen liked to travel, rush headlong into one adventure after the other. Corwin had gleefully joined him on several of his journeys.

“He does love to travel, more than most men I know.”

Duncan huffed. “He must be a Norman, then, to have the coin and time to waste roaming about the land.”

Stephen did, but on that particular journey Stephen had performed a valuable service for Gerard, and Richard, their half brother. Having acquired several new holdings in a court judgment, Gerard had given most of the land to his brothers. Stephen had offered to visit all the holdings, determine the condition of each, then report on which needed repairs or where the people needed immediate assistance.

The Norman who’d previously owned the lands had been a cruel man, and Corwin saw firsthand how the peasants had suffered, then witnessed their joy when told they’d been placed under Wilmont protection. None had truly cared which brother became overlord. Each man had a reputation for fairness, even benevolence.

True, most Normans looked to their own wealth and comfort and never noticed any hardship suffered by the people who provided for them. Telling Duncan that some Normans could be generous and honorable, however, wouldn’t aid Corwin’s ruse.

“Aye, the Normans are a selfish, cruel race,” Corwin proclaimed. “‘Twas a sad day for England when King Harold lost the battle to Duke William of Normandy.”

Duncan’s mouth twisted into a sneer. “When the bastard invaded England he killed or maimed all who would not submit to his rule, burned crops and forests and huts at will until those country folk left could barely survive. A sad day for England, indeed.”

Corwin now knew with certainty from where Duncan hailed. Only in the far north had the Conqueror taken such drastic measures to bring the old Saxon earls to heel. Corwin’s ancestors hadn’t joined in any rebellion, but had accepted the Conqueror as king and pledged fealty to the man the new king declared their overlord. The transfer of power had been peaceful, so unlike the experience of Duncan’s family.

Corwin laid a hand on his destrier’s neck, a fine example of Wilmont’s herd. He’d benefited greatly from Norman rule. Would he be less complacent if his ancestors had lost everything, if his Norman overlord had been less honorable?

“This lord you follow, he has a plan to overtake the kingdom without any of the peasants suffering?” Corwin asked.

“Aye. We must first be rid of King Henry. Then the barons will give way in due course.”

Duncan, clearly, knew nothing of the ways of war and less of Norman barons. Even with the king vanquished, the Normans wouldn’t give way. Each would defend his strongest castle and challenge the Saxons for possession. A battle for the entire kingdom would be fought castle by castle, with the peasants suffering the most.

“Father!” Oswuld cried out as he ran into the cave. “She is gone! Lady Judith-I cannot find her!”

A cold fist gripped Corwin’s innards.

“You were supposed to be guarding her!” Thurkill shouted.

“I allowed her privacy to take relief and she slipped away.”

Cursing himself roundly for not anticipating this attempt at escape, knowing which way he would go if in Judith’s situation, Corwin bolted out of the cave, hoping to get there ahead of her.