Heartsong (14 page)

After a mighty shove, the gate swung open. Rhianna eased through the opening, guiding the horse and not daring to breathe. Almost weak with relief, she stood on the other side for one second before she engaged the portal. Still in the shadows, she threw herself onto the back of the mare, her bundle clutched in her hand. Startled, the palfrey took off at a run. Rhianna let her have her head. The need to shout her joy nearly consumed her. She was free, gone from Knockin, on her way home, to Lily.

Eight

“At ease, Lady, at ease,” Rhianna coaxed, trying to keep her voice low, just a little more than a whisper. A sliver of moonlight and some luck had seen her across several fields and through the small stand of trees before the mare slowed. Instead of heading toward the road they traveled to Knockin, she walked the horse at the edge of the forest.

After she had ridden for some time, she stopped the animal, slipped from her back and sagged with relief. She was on her way home. With building confidence, she bent down and removed the fabric from the hooves of the palfrey and rubbed her down.

For awhile, Rhianna walked beside the horse, watching her own back and whispering soft meaningless words to the palfrey to keep her from snorting or blowing. Twigs snapped and branches broke. To Rhianna they sounded like the clap of thunder during a spring storm. Still, she made progress despite watching behind her.

The hoot of an owl screamed in her ear and the growl of a night creature sent a river of perspiration down her back. When she tightened the reins, her hands shook. She ignored her fear and plodded on, trying to distinguish forest noises from any sounds of pursuit.

When traces of red and gold in the sky heralded dawn, she left the trees behind. The beginning of a new day. How far had she come and how much farther did she have to go?

An empty field stood before her. After mounting, she encouraged the mare into a trot and prayed she could cover the space before someone saw her.

The day grew older, the sun disappeared and the sky darkened. Mist turned to rain, but she continued to walk, then ride. Without the sun as a guide, she hesitated, uncertain if she traveled in the right direction. She continued, despite the driving rain, through several small stands of trees, through a gloomy forest and over muddy fields now standing fallow from the harvest. On several occasions, she glimpsed groups of peasants working in the rain.

By the middle of the afternoon, the rain had slowed and she knew she had to stop. Sinking down beside a large oak tree, she gave into the panic and weariness eating at her soul. She should have waited until Arthur returned. He had always claimed to have a much better sense of direction than she.

She brushed her fingers over her wet face. The truth flayed her, bringing pain as hard to bear as the fists Harold Moirant had used on her.

She was lost!

~ * ~

Garrett paced before the dias, his anger mounting with each comment from Margot.

“Will you stop your pacing? Nedda and I need to break our fast and all you can do is pace and growl.”

“I didn’t ask you to visit,” Garrett snarled.

“I can’t come to see my own brother? Garrett, would you please seat yourself?”

He ignored her as Lydon entered the hall. “He’s on his way,” Lydon said.

“How soon?” Garrett asked.

“Who?” Margot inquired.

“Her brother,” Garrett answered.

“You sent for her brother? Why? Just let her go. She’ll make a tempting treat for some peasant. After all, she is only a servant.”

“Margot, why don’t you and Nedda leave? Go back to your own keep. If you’d leave this morn, you could be back at Fiston before the sunsets this night.”

“Garrett, how can you even think that? Nay, we must stay. I told you we need rest.” Margot soothed the skirt of her gown and patted her veil.

Garrett glared at her and then began to pace once more. He still could not understand why Rhianna had left. Could Margot have said or done something to aid in the departure? He stopped and gazed at his sister. Nay, she didn’t like having Rhianna here, but she would do nothing to help her return to Wales. Of that he was certain. She had no fondness for the Welsh either. After all, Colvin’s mother, Morgana Hubbard, was as much responsible for Margot’s hellish time at Knockin as the woman had been during his own early years. Only Colvin had benefitted from his mother’s position as wife to William deShay.

Nay, as much as Margot wanted him to marry someone of her choosing, so she could control the keep through his wife, she would not aid nor abet a hostage in an escape attempt. He began again to traverse the hall floor, stirring the dried rushes with his movements.

He noticed Mildred in a corner, her eyes red-rimmed from her weeping. It was obvious she held affection for Rhianna. He gritted his teeth. Where was Arthur?

A short time later the boy came running into the hall.

“What is wrong? Why did you send for me? Rhianna?”

“She is not here.” Garrett pulled him forward to the dias. “Did you know she planned to leave?”

“Leave? She’s not here?”

“Nay, she is gone. She left this morning, before the dawn. Did you know about this?”

“She…she talked about going home,” Arthur volunteered, his voice just above a whisper. “I didn’t think she would try to leave without me.” Garrett watched the color leach from Arthur’s face as he realized what he’d said. “She wanted to go home.” Arthur said it so softly Garrett needed to lean forward to hear.

“Does she know the way?”

“Nay.” Arthur shook his head. “She would know to travel that way.” He pointed to the west. “At least I think she would,” he said, his voice now a whisper.

Garrett groaned. She would be prey to every wild animal, both four-legged and two-legged, between Knockin and the border.

“We’ll begin a search.”

Garrett started toward the stairs. Margot blocked his way.

“Oh, nay, you cannot mean to leave us here…alone.”

“Aye, I do. If you don’t care for my actions, then seek your own abode.” Garrett grabbed her around the waist and lifted her out of his way.

“You are so stubborn,” she shouted.

“My sister, you have your life and I have mine. Tend to your own.”

“Oh—oh! Men!” She stomped off to the hearth.

Garrett turned to Lydon. “Gather several men. We will travel west toward the border.”

“Her brother?” Lydon asked.

“He’ll remain here until we return.”

~ * ~

In the distance, Rhianna watched a weak sun kiss another day good-bye. Soon, night would descend. She was exhausted, chilled and afraid to stop for sleep.

Shivering in the wind, she admitted to herself, escape had been foolish to try. She wondered if she would survive long enough to find her brothers or ever see her home and Lily again.

“At least,” she muttered, “this day the rain has not been the driving rain of yesterday.” She nibbled at the last of her cheese and bread. Earlier that morning she and Lady had stopped at a small stream and drunk their fill, but she was thirsty now.

“Why didn’t I think about something to hold water?” She spoke to the horse, but there was no reply, not even a friendly whinny.

She hadn’t prepared well for this flight. If she died, she had no one to blame but herself. She wrapped the damp, borrowed cloak around her and trembled in the chill air. Thank the saints, she had met no one on this journey, only glimpsed serfs and farmers working the empty fields in preparation for spring planting.

Last night’s sleep had been marked with images of Garrett and the intense feelings he stirred. The long night hours passed in restless slumber, leaving her tired, hungry, and depressed.

Once again, she mounted her horse and moved

forward. Garrett had only traveled four days from her homeland to Knockin. She gathered from Mildred that Wales was little more than a day’s journey from the keep. Since this would end her second day of her travel, she should be in Wales by now, but nothing looked familiar.

Still, she had no choice. She must continue on until something told her she had reached her destination.

~ * ~

Garrett’s frustration grew with each mile they traveled. He ordered his men to spread out and look for tracks while he kept an eye on the threatening sky. It was going to rain again. They had to find her before another downpour arrived and washed away her trail once more. Time and again yesterday, they had lost the trail because of rain.

While he rode, he recalled the scene with Mildred the previous morn when she announced that Rhianna had left.

“I’ve looked everywhere, my Lord. I cannot find her.”

“Tell me again.” Garrett had studied Mildred as she twisted her hands in obvious anguish.

“I…I know I was to watch her. But she said nothing about her home, nothing about plans to return there. She seemed content to visit with her brother, to sew.” Mildred started to cry.

“It is not your fault,” Garrett reassured her.

“But you will have to punish her.” More tears.

“We will see.” He turned to issue orders for Arthur’s return. Mayhap the brother knew of these plans.

“Do not worry. We will find her trail and have her back soon. She cannot have traveled too far, not in these few hours.”

Garrett cringed, remembering those words. It had taken half the day to find a trail and then Garrett was not certain it was hers. The weather had increased the problem. Today the moisture was not the driving rain of yesterday, but travel was made more uncomfortable for him, his men and the animals in the chilling mist. And he still had no idea why she had run away.

Nor did he know why she had started south. At this pace and if she continued, she would arrive at Gloucester in several more days. If she lasted that long. At least they had found tracks by a stream earlier that afternoon. With the ground as wet as it was, the horse’s tracks were clear.

As night started to fall Garrett ordered his men to make camp.

“Set a guard, send two of the men out to hunt. A warming fire will help against the chill. We’ll need wood,” Garrett told Lydon. “I’ll ride ahead for a pace.”

“Alone?”

“Aye, for a bit.”

He thought of the creatures that prowled these woods looking for food or victims, and cold shards of fear raced through his veins. That she was Welsh did not seem as important as it once had. He only wanted her safe. Because, if she was related to the prince, King Edward would welcome such a hostage.

His eyes on the earth before him, he walked his horse, noting that once again she had dismounted then remounted and ridden on.

Less than an hour passed when Garrett spotted her in the distance, slumped over her horse, an air of dejection radiating from her. As he watched, she straightened. He sighed with relief. She appeared to be all right.

When he pulled his horse next to hers, he caught her off guard for she had obviously not heard his approach.

“Oh, nay,” she shrieked. Anger and what he thought might be relief, colored her voice.

Garrett leaned forward and stretched his arm across the front of the saddle.

“Tell me, wench, did you enjoy your travels? I hope so, for it will be the last chance you ever get to roam the countryside alone.”

“I—I had to—to go home. I—I don’t belong at—at Knockin,” she stammered.

“You belong where I say you belong,” Garrett roared. “Now, we will go back to camp. We must hurry back to Knockin, where you can witness Mildred’s punishment.”

“Mildred’s punishment?” She froze. Her voice crackled with fear.

“Aye,” Garrett snapped. “I told her what would happen if you escaped.”

“Oh nay! It was not her fault. You are cruel! Nay, I will

not let you punish Mildred.” She raised her chin, glaring at him. “I’ll take her punishment. I’m the criminal here.”

“You threaten much, woman,” he said. “Now, we return to camp. We will rest, then on the morrow, we will return to Knockin.” He grabbed the reins of her horse and started forward, ahead of her. She was safe; she had not been harmed by any creature. However, it wouldn’t do for her to see the relief he knew he couldn’t hide.

~ * ~

When morning came, a cold drizzle misted the group. They broke camp and little conversation ensued.

Rhianna rode beside Garrett but said nothing as the horses trotted forward. She had the impression they were moving north, but she refused to question their direction. By late afternoon the walls of Knockin came into view and Rhianna gasped.

Surely she had covered more ground than this. They were also approaching from the south of the keep. How had she gotten turned around? Would she ever have reached her country if she continued in her escape?

Garrett seemed to read her mind.

“You would never have reached Wales. You would eventually have neared the town of Gloucester. Mayhap you rode in circles.”

She only stared at him. Was he right? Had she traveled in circles? Nay, it couldn’t be true, but she glanced behind her. They were coming from the south. Somehow, without the sun, she
had
gone in the wrong direction.

Inside the bailey, Rhianna spotted Arthur. She slipped from her horse, intending to talk to her brother, but Garrett intervened.

“Nay, you will not talk to him. Mildred,” he called her maid. “Take her to her room. She can await her punishment there.”

Rhianna spent the rest of the day in the chamber she had used since the first night at Knockin. Mildred stayed away, Arthur never came, nor did Garrett stop to see how she was. She tried to nap but sleep would not come, for now she worried about Mildred’s punishment. Oh, surely, the lord of Knockin would not punish one of his people because of her. He could not be that unfair.