A Widow Plagued (16 page)

“We would like to help thee to avoid such a fate,” Sir Robert clarified, his voice paternalistic.

“What is it ye propose?” Gavin asked, his voice like tempered steel.

“A trade...the rights to yer lands, in return for yer lives.”

“Never!” Sir Gavin responded.

“Have it yer way,” Sir Robert sighed.

Sara could not see the interaction, but she imagined him nodding at his troops to advance. Steel clanged against steel, and Sara sprang into action. Poking her head above the wagon, she waved Hannah to her. Hannah scooted herself and the bairn to the exit. Handing Elizabeth to Sara, she hopped from the wagon bed, landing silently on the balls of her feet. The melee before them grew loud and intense. They had only precious moments before Sir Robert sent men for them, she was certain.

Silently, they bent low and slipped from the cover of the wagons into the uncertain concealment of the forest. Hannah pressed further into the tree line until Sara, spying a narrow gorge, tugged her down. Together, they cowered below the small rock ledge, praying that Gavin and his men would prove victorious.

Several long minutes passed. Sara and Hannah struggled to quiet their ragged breathing and still the loud beating of their hearts. Fumbling with the neck of her gown, Sara shakily encouraged Elizabeth to nurse, fearful she would cry out and give away their location.

The fighting quieted. Men could be heard, shuffling through the forest and Sara could not be certain if they were on the retreat, or if they were searching for them. Footsteps grew closer. Sara's face hardened. Handing the sleeping Elizabeth to Hannah, she crept from their hide out. Dagger in hand, she watched a blood-soaked David stagger past and fall.

Several moments passed, and no one came to capture their prize. Carefully, Sara crept to David's side and felt his neck for the flicker of a pulse. Despite a blow to his head, his heart beat strong. Sara did not dare try to drag such a large man to their hide out.

The trail would be easily followed. Instead, she quickly checked the rest of his frame for injuries. He was not bleeding anywhere she could tell. The blood on his clothing must be that of Sir Robert's men, she prayed. Retreating several yards from his frame, she hunkered down within the tall grass between her daughters and Sir David. Clasping the dagger before her, she waited.

~

Having fought together in several small skirmished along the Scottish border, Thomas and Gavin fell into a natural rhythm of parry and attack. Sir Robert and his men rushed them at once in an expert attempt to overwhelm them.

James stood on the front wagon, warding off attackers by sword while Millie wielded her dagger with vicious, downward swoops.

Sir John had yet to draw his sword. Sir David did not hesitate, but ran for his brother. Dropping his head, he rammed Sir John to the ground, pounding him with punishing blows to the head. Sir John whipped his bulbous form about on the ground, unseating David, and slapping him upside the ear. Momentarily disoriented, David did not see the sword hilt coming down on his temple until it landed, causing his world to go dark.

Gavin and Thomas had felled four men before they heard Millie's cries for help. James had been stabbed in the side and was no longer able to fend off the two attackers that worked in conjunction to pull Millie from the wagon.

Again, in a coordinated effort, the two men pulled Millie from her roost and pushed James onto the ground with a heavy thump. Like magic, the large pine before them seemed to split and the soldiers released the wagon's break and smacked the horses' reigns, causing the wagon to lurch forward down the path.

Sir Robert saluted Gavin and laughed, running after the carriage to mount his own horse and gallop away.

“Sara!” Gavin's parched throat croaked. How could he have been so foolish?

Eying Sir John's stumbling form, his rage coalesced. Running with a strength he did not know he possessed, Gavin roared as he ran his sword through Sir John's back.

Never in his life had he killed a man with his back turned. Twas murderous and base. Sinking to his knees, Gavin watched Sir John fall to his side, twitching from the damage to his spine.

Sir John's life leaked quietly into the brown packed earth; Lord Sander's honor drained away with it. He had little time to grieve its loss, however. He must catch that wagon. Standing shakily to his feet, Gavin thanked heaven for Thomas who came trotting up to him, his horse in hand.

Swinging onto the saddle, Gavin and Thomas, picked their way around the fallen tree and galloped after the wagon full of women.

~

Twenty minutes passed, and Sara's legs had grown numb in their crouched position. Cautiously, she returned to check on her daughters. Hannah's wide-eyed gaze peered up through the gouged crevice, and Sara smiled tremulously.

“Sir David survived. He has taken a blow to the head. I must tend him. Stay here with yer sister,” she whispered, then ducked back out to descend further into the ravine.

Surely, this time of year, the stream would be high enough for her to get some much-needed water. Ripping a bit of her shift, Sara dunked the fabric in the frigid water. Crawling back up the crevice, by way of several sideways saplings, Sara hunkered over Sir David's form once more.

The icy water against his bloody temple brought Sir David around. “Shh!” Sara whispered at his moan.

Somehow, he must have understood, for he quieted and allowed her to bath his wound and face. Tearing another, longer strip about the hem of her under-layer, Sara wrapped the wet clothed to David's temple and tied it securely. He was likely to feel addled and have a raging headache, but he would recover.

Sara sured herself for what she must do next. Standing, she slowly, silently, made her way back to the wagons. She must scout out the location and determine what to do next. Nothing but heavy breathing could be heard as she approached the trail's tree line.

Peeking through the branches, Sara saw no soldiers. Instead, she noted Millie, the side of her face blackened and puffy, kneeled over a prostrate form. Her hands were covered in blood, and she couldn't seem to stop the bleeding.

Looking back and forth along the road, Sara rushed from her hiding place to help. James lay, gasping for breath and Millie crooned to him softly. “Tis but a tiny prick,” she chuckled horsely. “I'll have ye patched up in no time.”

Sara knew better. The wound ran up James' side and seemed to have punctured his lung. His gasps grew wet and gurgling. Millie's smile faltered when James placed his arm on hers. “Thou art a braw, fine man James Milliner. Look, ye saved us all,” she smiled, pulling Sara to lean over James, so that he could see he did not fail to protect the women.

“Aye,” Sara smiled. “All will be well, now. Hannah, Elizabeth, Sir David, and I are all right proud of yer bravery, James. Rest, now.”

Millie held her hand tight against James' wound until his eyes closed and his breath ceased. She sat back, broken. Sara wrapped her arms about her dear companion and together, they wept.

Chapter
9

Till Death Do us Part

Thomas and Gavin raced to catch up to the villainous Sir Robert. With Sir John dead, Sir Robert could, at best, hope to hold the women ransom for the property. Gavin would gladly hand it over to get them back.
Yea, thoug
h
, Gavin thought darkly, i
f
any of those men place one filthy hand on my women, they will have to di
e
.

Thomas held his hand up, signaling Gavin to pull up his mount. As crazed as Gavin felt, he was no good to Hannah, Sara, and Elizabeth, were he to get himself killed. Sir Robert's numbers still boasted five to their two. They would be wise to come upon the company stealthily.

~

An hour had passed since Hannah had seen Sarah. Elizabeth still slept fitfully in her arms, but it would not be long now before she awoke and demanded to be fed. A low moan sounded from several yards off, and Hannah was nearly certain in must be David. Creeping cautiously from her hiding place, Hannah inched toward the sound of heavy breathing.

Lying on his side, Sir David scrunched his eyes against the light that filtered through the trees to dance cruelly across his face. Hannah's body blocked the punishing rays, causing David to blink up into the back-lit face of an angel.

“Am I dead?” he whispered through cracked lips.

Hannah smiled and kneeled beside him. Again, the sun slanted down, forcing David to shut his eyes. “Can ye move?”

David groaned but sat up, swaying.

Shifting Elizabeth to her left arm, Hannah grasped David with her right and leaned back, pulling him to his feet.

Immediately, David's pallor turned white. Hannah pressed her narrow shoulder up against his rib cage, steadying him as she turned back to the small enclosed space where she had promised to stay hidden. Slowly, they stepped their way forward. David kept his eyes shut, wincing from the stabbing pain in his head.

“Ye'll have to sit here while I put Elizabeth down,” Hannah breathed, out of breath.

Carefully, she climbed back beneath the rock ledge and, reswaddling wee Elizabeth's blanket about her tightly, she set the bairn on the packed earth and returned for her David.

“Slide down into this crevice,” she whispered up at him, offering her arms for support.

Slowly, he lay back and slid his way into the space, nearly passing out from the effort it cost. Hannah picked up Elizabeth, then crawled over to David and lifted his head into her lap. Leaning back against the dirt wall behind her, she closed her eyes and prayed that everyone she loved would make it home safe.

~

Twas a long time before Sara and Millie released their tight grip on one another. Something must be done to deal with the living. Life must go on, even when we wish for time to hold still.

Millie stood shakily and Sara followed suit. Walking to the back of the men's wagon, Sara reached for a water flask she'd seen dangling there earlier. Turning to her companion, she held Millie's blood-caked hands and slowly, methodically rinsed them clean.

Millie dried them on her kirtle and climbed in the back of the wagon to look for a suitable funeral shroud. All that they'd brought was a thick hide tarp that could be used as a one-man tent. Millie lugged the rolled hide to the wagon opening and Sara held an end while Millie climbed down.

Together they carried the leather to their fallen friend and together, they unrolled it along his body. Millie made the sign of the cross along his face and chest and looked up at Hannah forlornly. “He had no last rights,” her lip trembled.

“He died a hero, Millie,” Sara reminded her. “What need had he of a final confession, when he died as free from sin as any man might hope?”

Millie smiled tremulously and gazed affectionately at James. “He was such a sweet, thoughtful man, was he not?”

“Aye, Millie. We will give him a right good burial, just as soon as we are able. Let us wash him and wrap him now. Then, we must see to the welfare of the living.”

Millie nodded. Quickly, the washed James' face and hands. Together, they moved his body onto the tarp, then wrapped the leather about him as tightly as they could. Tying the leather lashings about his form, they reluctantly left him to check on Hannah, Elizabeth, and David.

Elizabeth's fussing could be heard from several yards away and Sara quickened her pace. Ducking down inside the gully, Sara sighed in relief to find all three of the young ones huddled up together.

Millie handed down dried beef and what was left of the water and Sara held her arms out for Elizabeth. “Stay here and tend to David, Hannah. Millie and I need to track down Lord Sanders and Thomas. We will return for thee anon.”

Hannah nodded and bit into the jerky. Her stomach gurgled happily in response. Stopping by the wagon just long enough to pick up a satchel and stuff it with some of Elizabeth's flannel bottom clothes, they set off on foot, following the path beyond the fallen spruce.

Elizabeth nursed happily on the way, further depleting Sara's energy reserves. If she could not drink and eat soon, her milk was sure to dry up. Millie must have been thinking the same thing for she pressed a hard biscuit into Sara's hand.

“Ye must eat something,” she sighed. “Let's keep our ear out for a creek of some sort. That way we can get our fill of water. No telling what this road has waiting for us, up ahead.”

Sara nodded, absently chewing on the biscuit. She would have preferred to leave Elizabeth with Hannah, but it couldn't be helped. She might be facing danger up ahead, but leaving her to go hungry would cause her to cry out and risk the life of both her daughters.

~

Hannah tilted her head to look askance at David's features, softened in slumber. He really was quite a handsome man. Even with the scar that cut along his left cheek, nay, especially with the scar, he was beautiful.

Leaning over him, she kissed the scar reverently and smiled. What a strange courtship they had. Twice, he had worked to kidnap her; twice, he had fought to protect her; twice, she had nursed him back to health.

Would they ever have the staid, secure life they both so desperately wanted? Gently caressing his brow, Hannah imagined what it would be like to truly be married, with children of her own. She shivered. She had no real interest in turning into a fat milk cow.

She much preferred the way it was now with David. They talked; they laughed; they stole brief kisses and caresses behind Lord and Lady Sander's backs. Twas all exciting and romantic. Soon, she knew, what she and David shared t'would become work; she was not ready for that. Sighing, she leaned back and closed her eyes, relishing the relative simplicity of this moment.

~

Gavin narrowed his eyes in confusion as he watched the scene play out before him on the trail. From his hiding place, high up in a spruce, he could see Sir Robert hollering at his men, as they emptied the wagon of its contents. No one was inside.

What did I miss
?
he thought to himself, confused. Were the women in the other wagon? Certainly not. He had seen them in the front wagon himself. Had they somehow moved, or escaped at some point?

Sir Robert was already coming to the same conclusion. Quickly, he gathered his men. Abandoning the wagon, he began riding back down the path from whence they came. As quietly as he could, Gavin descended the tree to follow suit.

~

Sara's eyes grew round at the joyful sound of a bubbling brook. Hugging Elizabeth more tightly beneath her cloak, she smiled at Millie. The two women made their way towards the trickling water, desperate to quench their thirst.

What Sara wouldn't give for a bit of animal fat to rub across her cracked and bleeding lips! Ah, well, it couldn't be helped; she sighed as she removed her cloak. Wrapping her infant in the warm wool, she laid Elizabeth down between two thick roots of a towering oak. Lowering herself on all fours, she drank directly from the stream. Millie readily joined her. After several long moments of lapping at the frigid water, Millie looked over at her companion and laughed.

“We're like a couple of sows fer certain, My Lady!”

Sara looked down at her filthy, soiled gown and laughed, tears of fatigue and pent up anxiety releasing once more. Together they rolled on the cold, packed earth, happy to have one another to laugh and cry with, sorry for all the others they had lost along the way.

“Thank ye for being my true friend, Millie,” Sara sighed, her warm words hung white and heavy between them in the cold, November eventide.

“Thank ye for being mine,” Millie returned, squeezing Sara's hand.

A profound, peace-filled silence spread about them as they watched their clouded words drift up to the heavens.

The distant sound of horses galloping had both women sitting up and scrambling for Elizabeth. In a flash, Sara had Elizabeth tucked into her side and her black cloak wrapped about her. Together, the triad huddled against the large oak, praying whomever passed by would continue on their way.

Why had they not moved further along the river, further from the path? They had allowed their thirst to get the best of their common sense, it seemed. For now, a stomping steed snorted mere yards from their hiding place.

“Hold!” the raspy voice of Sir Robert could be heard above the stamping of hooves. “I see footprints here. We might have picked up their trail.”

Sara shivered and prayed they would not be found. Millie pinched the underpart of Sara's arm hard enough to get her attention. Looking askance at her companion, she was befuddled when Millie leaned in to kiss her gently on the cheek and Elizabeth on the nose.

Then, pressing her finger to her lips, Millie rose and made her way silently down the tree line. Forty yards down the path, a man called out. He must have heard her. She broke from the trees and crossed the path, running in the opposite direction.

Like a flash, the men followed. Fat, mute tears ran down Sara's face. She again pulled at her neckline and urged her daughter to suckle in silence.

~

Sir David dreamed he was sinking into the soft lap of a voluptuous woman whose doe eyes smiled down benevolently upon him, smothering him with kisses. Smiling in his sleep, he reached up to cup the woman's ample breasts, only to find his hand smacked away.

Groaning in pain and frustration, Sir David, rolled over and opened his eyes. Indeed, he found his head cradled by a soft lap. Sitting up, he grabbed at his pounding head and looked into the doe eyes of his very real, very petite betrothed. He sighed and grinned through the pain. Certainly, Hannah was not the full-figured woman of his dreams, but her soft curves would do just fine, he supposed. She'd fill out in time; his grin widened as her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Ye should not wake from a beating with such a dim-witted grin on yer face,” Sir David. “It makes me worry ye've addled yer wits.”

Twas David's turn to narrow his gaze. “I must have. I dreamt I was married to the likes of ye.”

Hannah swatted half-heartedly at David's shoulder, but laughed despite herself. “Ye were eager enough to wed me last week. My how fickle thou art.”

“I find my sincere affection turned away at every juncture, fair lady. Is it not a wise man who questions his affections, when his love proves unrequited?”

“Tis not love that drives yer hand to cup my breast, Sir David,” Hannah laughed and swatted it away again. “Ye are a man who hopes to get a lady's favors afore she is well and truly wed.”

“We are betrothed,” Sir David sighed, laying his head back in Hannah's lap. “We have the blessing of the king himself. We've even had the banns read. What more do ye want, Woman?”

“The blessing of a priest,” she laughed. “As all gently-bred ladies might.”

David groaned and hugged Hannah's waist. “Ye punish and tease me, headless of my suffering. Have ye no pity?”

Hannah laughed softly and brushed David's hair from his face. “Aye, Sir David. I pity myself!” She stifled a squeal as he pulled her down to face him.

“Truly?” he asked, concern etching his features. The blood on his temple and the scar on his face could not hide the stark, child-like need that lay within his eyes. He needed to be wanted, to be loved.

“Nay,” she sighed hugging his head gently to her chest. “In truth, I count my blessings each night afore I sleep...and, verily, the first blessing I count is thee.”

Sir David looked up into Hannah's face, and a warmth filled the small crevice, emptying the cold spaces between them. “If I have to wait a hundred years to wed thee, Lady Hannah, t'would be worth every moment.”

The chaste kiss he pressed to her lips filled him with more contentment than any tumble in the hay had ever done before. Aye, Hannah had turned his life inside out, and he could not be any happier for it.

~

Hearing the distant hollering of men in hot pursuit, Gavin gave up stealth for speed. Leaning low over his stallion's neck, he kicked his horse into a gallop. Thomas followed close behind.

Surely, Sir Robert would not harm Sara. Without her, he had no pawn with which to barter. Yet, with both Elizabeth and Sara dead, he might readily be able to stake a claim with the court for his property. He must make it to his wife in time.