Darkest Knight (7 page)

She’d only been in the past a couple of days and already she looked like she’d rolled in the mud. Was this what she had to look forward to if she was stuck here? How on earth was she going to bathe? The thought of a hot shower almost had her groaning, but the thought quickly left her head as she heard the sound of a fist meeting flesh. When she pulled a double shift, sometimes on weekends after three in the morning, there would be a brawl in the parking lot. By now, Anna had seen enough fights to know the three men against John would be an even match. They looked chunky and unaware of their surroundings, whereas he was like a super spy in a movie.

It was over so fast that Anna had the hysterical thought she was actually in a hospital in a coma and this was all a dream.

But the ringleader was on his back staring at the clouds, his eyes unblinking. His chest no longer moving. The sounds of a small animal in pain made her look around for the critter. It took a few minutes before she realized the sound was coming from her throat. She crawled to the bushes and retched. Over and over, she heaved, as her body seemed to think it could expel the awful images by getting rid of the contents in her stomach. All three men were dead, and she’d watched John kill them. It was nothing like the movies or TV.

Another round of gagging left her sweaty and worn out. A couple of leaves served as a makeshift napkin. Anna finished wiping off her mouth and sat up. It was quiet.

“I want to go home,” she whispered, looking anywhere but at the bodies on the ground.

“John?”

“I am here. Are you unwell?”

Her teeth were chattering and she shivered. “I’ve never…seen anyone…die before.”

He picked up the men’s blades, made a face, and threw them aside. Time slowed. When she blinked, she was in his arms. He murmured softly in her ear. Words she didn’t understand.
 

“You’re cold. ’Tis the first time you have watched a man die?”

A brief jerk of her head was all she could manage.
 

“It pains me you were witness to violence. Know this. Those men would have killed me and made you wish they had killed you. Never hesitate when a man means you grievous harm. Strike first.”

He carried her to the edge of the water and gently sat her down.

“Drink and wash. You will feel better.”

The sound of moving water helped calm her nerves. A rancid smell lingered, and Anna discreetly sniffed her skin. She smelled.

“I thought it was just a saying. Fear does have a smell.”

Images flooded her head, making her dig her hands into the mud, willing them away. If she’d still had any doubt she was no longer in 2016, the events of the past hour had utterly convinced her. Medieval England. Not only was she stranded an ocean away from home, but she was marooned on an island of time. The thought made Anna want to cry. No tears came. The last time she cried was when she was eighteen. The day she had to drop out of college. And this wasn’t nearly as bad as what had happened then.

By the time she’d washed as best she could and made her way back to John, he’d moved the bodies.

“Where?”

“In the brush.”

There were now two horses. Anna dubiously eyed the horse.

“If you think I’m going to ride that, you’re out of your mind.”

He patted the animal. “Never mind her. When we are safe at Blackmoor, I will teach you to ride.” He turned on the Mr. Hollywood smile. “I would not deprive you of my fine self. We will ride together.”

John lifted her up on the horse. He was brown with a white spot on his ear, and he was softer than she’d imagined.

“Whatever lets you sleep at night.”

“Um?”

“You have a big opinion of yourself.”

“I am known and feared across England.”

“And yet you ended up in the Tower of London.”

“You have me there, mistress.”

The feel of his body cradling hers had become comforting. As they rode she started to relax, the adrenaline rush leaving her tired.

“Anna? Is there no war or killing where you come from in Florida?”

“Yes, but it’s different. Normal people don’t go around killing other people.” How did she explain it to him? There were murders, suicide bombers, and other craziness, but nothing like this.

Anna blurted out, “I’m from the future.” She sat there horrified.

“There is a boy in the kitchens. Says he was sent to work in the stables and will not leave without speaking to you, my lord.” His steward sniffed. “Shall I have the guards throw him out?”

Robert Thornton, Lord Highworth, was tickled to see his crusty steward in even more of a foul humor than usual. He tried daily to ruffle the man and a mere boy had accomplished what he could not? Most curious. “I will see the boy.”

It took a moment for Robert to regain his footing. He’d drunk to excess last night. And the night before and the night before that. He wiped the sweat from his brow. It was good to be back home. The past fortnight he’d agreed to Edward’s demands and visited a handful of eligible maidens. Found none to his liking and proceeded to drown out their shrill voices with drink. One was too tall, one too short, and one laughed like a dying pig. He shuddered thinking on hearing such a dreadful sound every day for the rest of his life.

In truth, he had no desire to marry. He planned to spend his days drinking, wenching, and wagering on the most foolish things. With no vexing wife to shriek at him from morn to night.

In the kitchens, he found a boy so dirty it was difficult to determine the color of his hair beneath the grime. Robert detested filth. His brothers teased him for how often he bathed.

“You have a message for me, boy?”

The boy blinked. “You look just like him.” Then, realizing he was in the presence of a noble, he pushed back from the table and stood up straight.

“I am good with horses, my lord. I was told I would find a place in your stables.”

The boy hungrily eyed a platter of food one of the serving girls carried out to the hall.

“What is your name?”

“Rabbie, my lord.”

“We Thorntons care naught for titles. I am Robert. Sit and fill your belly.” Robert heaped the plate high with food and slid it across the table. The greedy manner in which the child ate made him wonder when the boy had last tasted a decent meal.

“How long have you been traveling?”

“A month. I had no horse, so I walked all the way from London.”

“Who said you would find a place here?”

The boy looked up at him, a fearful look on his face. “I canna remember.”

Robert narrowed his eyes and leaned across the table.

“Do not lie to me. Tell me the truth or I will lock you in my dungeon until you are an old man. There are rats down there. They feast on small children.”

Rabbie gasped. “Truly?”

Robert’s lip twitched. The boy looked more interested than fearful.

“Then I shall feed you to the pigs.”

“’Twas a man said you needed someone good with horses.”

“I know the secret you carry.” Robert leaned against the wall, one booted foot crossed over the other. He looked down, flicking a speck of dirt off his tunic. The boy was watching every movement, so Robert casually rested a hand on his sword.

The rigors of the journey caught up to the boy as his face crumpled. “How could you? I swore,” he whispered.

This was much better. What was Edward up to? He was like an obstinate woman. He snorted.

“I swear all the time. This secret came from the man who looks like me but not as handsome.”

Eyes huge, Rabbie put his head on the table. “I said I would not tell. He said it would keep you safe. Why would he tell you?” The boy’s eyes leaked, leaving tracks in the dirt on his face and puddling on the clean table.

“Out with the tale.”

“You won’t truly feed me to the pigs?”

“Nay. Speak, boy. I needs be sure you are truthful before I tell you what I know.” And this was why he won more wagers than he lost.

The boy stared at his plate for a long time, sniffling and wiping his eyes. When he regained his composure, he directly met Robert’s gaze.

“Your brother sent me. I didn’t know he was your brother for all those years until he told me in the tower, where I visited him.”

What the bloody hell? “The Tower of London. Where my brother is held. Continue.”

He’d heard no news. Surely the boy was mistaken.

“We always called him Robin. It wasn’t until I visited him in the tower he told me his real name.” The boy took a deep breath.

“He said you believed him dead. But he is not. He is the bandit of the wood. Your brother, John Thornton.”

Robert leaned into the wall, unsteady. He poured a cup of wine and drained it.

The boy blubbered. “You tricked me. You did not know.” He wept. “I have failed him. I swore I would not tell.”

Robert strode to the table and patted the boy on the back. He went sprawling on the floor. Not very hearty, this lad. He reached out a hand and helped the boy to his feet.

“’Twas wicked of me. John will understand.” Robert smiled, not letting Rabbie see how much the news distressed him. “No one can resist the Thornton charm or the threat of my pigs.”

The boy slid him a narrow look. “He will die an awful death.”

So much made sense. John was alive. Robert and his brothers would remedy whatever had happened. His older brother was the bandit of the wood. He could scarcely believe the boy but for the truth on his face. Robert heard Lord Denby had found favor with the king. His gut told him Denby was responsible for his brother’s current accommodations.

“John will not die.” Robert paced back and forth across the kitchen, his head aching. “You have a place here in the stables. I must dispatch messengers to my brothers. Go and bathe, then come to my solar and tell me the tale from the beginning, when you first met John.”

“You want me to wash? ’Tis bad for the humors of the body.”

Robert threw his head back and laughed. “Everyone at Highworth Castle bathes.”

The boy wrinkled his nose, seeming to have second thoughts. Robert barely resisted the urge to scare him again.

“Go. When you come back clean, I will see you have something sweet to eat.
 

“Featherton,” he bellowed.

The man looked down his nose. “My lord?”

“Send the wenches back to the village. I must send messages to my brothers.”

“Shall I send all three back?”

His steward did not approve of Robert’s appetites.

“Yes, all of them. I have much to think on.”

“As you wish, my lord.” The man turned on his heel and glided out of the kitchen.

John was so taken aback he pulled her off the horse and stood facing her. To watch her face. Though for the moment he simply blinked at her like a dolt.

“The future?” He choked on a bug, realized his mouth was hanging open, and shut it with a snap. The woman was daft. “Perchance there is someone at the tower who is missing you.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Hilarious. I’m not crazy.”

He looked her over. The clothing she wore was unlike any he had ever seen. Lasses did not wear hose as she did. Hers were a dark blue and molded to her plump backside. Every moment they rode, he was aware of her nestled into his thighs.

“Can you prove this outlandish claim?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “No. I lost my phone and wallet when I traveled through time.”

“How did you travel through time? In one of your horseless carriages?”

Against her will, he saw the smile. She stood with her hands on her hips trying to scowl. “No. But you’re doing better with the whole sarcasm thing.” The wind caught her hair, blowing it across her face. She spat it out.

“Spinach fudge.” Anna held up a hand. “I recognize that look. Fudge is a type of sweet, so no one in his or her right mind would put spinach in it. I don’t curse like you. I like to make my own words.”

“Ah. Sarcasm?”

“Like mocking. Do you have a ribbon or piece of string?”

He poked through the sack holding their belongings and came up with a dingy piece of string.

“Will this do?”