Knight's Blood (33 page)

Read Knight's Blood Online

Authors: Julianne Lee

Tags: #Kidnapping, #Science Fiction, #Fantasy fiction, #Married people, #Scotland, #General, #Fantasy, #Children - Crimes against, #Fighter pilots, #Fiction, #Time travel

BOOK: Knight's Blood
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Alex, too deep in thought, had forgotten his son was there. The voice startled him out of his pondering and he wondered if the wee folk had perhaps taught Trefor a bit of mind reading. The magical had always made Alex nervous, for not much good had ever come of it, and he wished he could know what was going on in Trefor’s mind. He said, “What do you mean?”
 
“I mean, you should let them attack the village and then catch them while they’re busy. Ride down on them once they’ve exhausted themselves going after a bunch of sheep and cows.”
 
“And the people of the village?”
 
“Collateral. And, if you think about it, English collateral. You’re so hot to align yourself with all that is Scottish, maybe you should take advantage of the opportunity to stick it to King Edward. Those villagers are his lookout, aren’t they?” He shrugged. “Not yours, in any case.”
 
There was a time when Alex might have made that same argument, but he was no longer so sure. Lindsay had often chastised him for fitting into the medieval mindset too easily, and these days he was beginning to wonder if she hadn’t been right. Using unarmed noncombatants as bait or targets was sometimes unavoidable, but this did not qualify so clearly as necessary, nor would it be accidental if Alex held off attacking for the sake of softening up the enemy.
 
Then he imagined the scene if An Reubair were allowed to attack first. An undefended village wouldn’t be much of a resistance force and probably wouldn’t do so well at softening anyone. He then decided. “You heard the guy in that other village. He said his people ran, rather than fight. This village might not resist, and that would make waiting pointless.”
 
“But they might. And at the very least we could catch the enemy while they’re busy rounding up the livestock and torching houses.”
 
“No. You don’t understand these guys. They’re armed and headed for a fight. If they don’t get one, they’ll be frustrated. Even more ready than they are now. Waiting is pointless. We’ll go now. Attack before they get there.”
 
Trefor shrugged. “Suit yourself. Just trying to be helpful.”
 
“Your counsel is appreciated, but I’ve decided otherwise. Now order your men to follow us.” He watched Trefor move off to comply, then passed the same order to Henry for his own men. They spurred off down the track at a gallop, in twos.
 
As it turned out, the MacNeil force reached the attacking raiders at the same time they all reached the village. Alex looked ahead to find the first house going up in flames, and villagers running this way and that, children screaming, women shouting and wailing. They were familiar sounds. There were thuds of sword against pitchfork or spade, but resistance was weak and wouldn’t last. Alex searched the melee for Lindsay, looking to the raiders for any sign of a woman. He feared finding her as much as he hoped for it, and a sense of relief came as his gaze went from one to another and he saw no wild hair or painted face. He shouted to his men to charge, drew his sword, and the column of knights swept down on the raiders.
 
Committed to his task, he plunged into the midst of the fray with little thought but to put away as many of the enemy as possible. He lay about himself with his sword, wheeling his mount in the nearly constant shift of the fight.
 
Then he heard the ululating noise described by the villager. High-pitched, eerie among the shouts and cries of men. It froze his heart. He abandoned the opponent before him, wheeled, and spurred away toward the sound, straining his ears and eyes to find the source, his pulse thudding in his veins.
 
Then Alex saw her. Lindsay, without a doubt. Black, wavy hair below her helm, circling around to swing her sword at a villager on foot, it was his wife. His heart leapt to his throat to choke him, but he spurred onward to intercept. He thundered in to put his horse between her and her quarry, and they clanged swords as he rode past.
 
Abandoning her original opponent she came after him, and he wheeled to find her at him, harrying and crowding. She didn’t seem to recognize him. She was looking straight at him and didn’t know who he was. Her face was twisted in an ugly snarl, her eyes filled with a rage he recognized in men he’d faced in battle. She swung on him, and he went to parry but then merely dodged. She overbalanced, and as she began to lose her seat, he came down hard on the hilt of her sword to help her along to the ground.
 
The tactic worked, and she fell. “Lindsay!” he shouted, but she either didn’t hear or didn’t recognize his voice. Or else she knew who he was and wished him dead, for when her horse moved away she gained her feet and attempted to hamstring his mount. But the animal reared and twisted, and she was forced to back away. When his mount came again to all fours, Alex dismounted and slapped it out of his way as he turned to confront his opponent. Lindsay hauled back for attack, and he fended. “Lindsay! It’s me!”
 
But she saw only an enemy she needed to kill before he would kill her. He’d taught her that. Could she see who he was? Did she attack him, or only a faceless enemy? She swung on him and he was forced to shove her back as he parried. If she kept this up, one of them was going to do damage, and it would likely be her, for he would never swing on her to hurt her. Not his own wife. Not even if he were certain she knew it was him she was trying to kill.
 
So he took a chance though he might die for it. He dropped his shield and yanked his helmet off to throw it on the ground. “Lindsay!”
 
Lindsay hauled back to come at him again, but then the light of recognition finally came. She froze. Amid the fighting, surrounded by cries of rage and pain and the clank of sword against armor, she stood with her sword raised but still. Her jaw dropped, and Alex waited to see whether she would greet him or kill him.
 
“Oh . . . my God!” Her sword lowered and she dropped her own shield to the ground. “Alex! Oh . . .” In an instant she flew to embrace him with her free arm, and he held her to him with his. Then she burst into tears and said his name into his ear over and over. It was the most delightful sound he’d ever heard. Relief flooded him, rushing into all the corners of him so that he had to swallow hard not to be choked himself.
 
“Lindsay, I—”
 
“Sir Lindsay!” The voice was a man Alex didn’t recognize, and he looked up to find a blond knight riding at them with sword raised. Alex swung his sword around to stave off the oncoming assailant, and Lindsay did likewise. The attacker reined in hard and his mount skidded to a stop before two raised blades. He looked from one to the other, and roared with anger, “What is the meaning of this?”
 
“He’s my husband, Reubair. I’m through here.” She reached behind to take Alex’s free hand in hers.
 
Alex glanced at her, and a smile tugged at his face. Then he returned his attention to An Reubair and frowned to let the guy know they were both serious.
 
The faerie knight gaped at Lindsay, then at Alex, and his eyes narrowed. Then he glared at Lindsay again, his cheeks flushed with rage. And perhaps something else. Alex had a sense he’d come in on the middle of something, and puzzled over what it could be. Reubair’s mount danced with the excitement of the battle around them, and he reined in tight to control the horse. “You. The negligent husband.”
 
“An Dubhar to you, and I’ll show you what that means if you give me any guff. Get the hell away. Take your men and leave this village.”
 
Reubair shook his head and seethed with the anger of one scorned. Again Alex wondered what was going on here.
 
Reubair said to Lindsay, “You would abandon your quest? Renege on your pledge to me?”
 
What pledge?
 
“He is my husband. Before God and the world.”
 
The anger on Reubair’s face told Alex the pledge had been a personal one, and very important to the faerie knight. Whatever had gone on between these two was a puzzle, and even more puzzling that Lindsay was blowing the guy off so easily.
 
“Get away from here, Reubair, or I’ll kill you.” Not “
Alex
will kill you.” She was ready to do it herself. Alex chanced a glance over at her. She meant business. Her mouth was set, and her eyes dull. Serious. Alex knew if this guy offered any more argument she would attack him.
 
Apparently Reubair knew it, too. He gathered his wits and seemed to come to a decision, then turned from Lindsay and addressed Alex.
 
“You may take back your wife, but I’ll have my plunder. Fight me for it, or take the woman and run. ’Tis your choice. But if you choose the livestock and leave her unprotected, I will kill her.” With that he wheeled his horse and charged away, again to the fray.
 
Easy choice. “Come,” yelled Alex to Lindsay over the noise around them. He sheathed his sword and pulled her with him. She came along without a word as he recaptured his horse by the reins and drew it around to mount. He threw his own leg over and pulled himself up, then reached down for her. She also threw a leg up, pulled herself over, and seated herself behind him. He kicked the mount to a canter, away from the fighting. When they came to where the support wagon had been left, he reined in and reached back to help her down. Once she was dismounted, he wheeled to return to the skirmish.
 
“Wait! Alex!”
 
He wheeled again, coming full circle. “What?”
 
“Where are you going?”
 
“To finish my job.”
 
“You’ve no helmet and no shield!”
 
“I also have no choice!” His horse kept trying to turn toward the battle, and he had to rein it around to face her. It pranced with the excitement of its rider and the commotion in the village.
 
“You’re just going to leave me here?”
 
Irritation rose, and he said, “Yes. You’re going to stay put, and listen to me for once, while I go back to my men and order a retreat. The villagers have all run off, their houses are all on fire, and their livestock aren’t worth my men getting killed, thankyouverymuch. I’m going to call them off. So have a seat, shut up, and I’ll be back shortly.” He shook his head. “Jeez, you have not changed!”
 
She waved him on, and he reined around again, spurring his horse back to the village.
 
Quickly he called a retreat and made certain all his and Trefor’s men made it away from the village. None had been killed, but there were several wounded. It would be seen later whether any of those wounds were mortal, but for now it appeared there were no real casualties among the MacNeils. Alex watched from a distance as the reivers made off with the livestock from the village. It was a sour feeling, but not much of a defeat. He’d found Lindsay, and that would make up for a lot of sheep lost by a village that was English, after all. When the last of the stragglers had passed him on the trail, he turned to follow them to where Lindsay and their pages waited with the support wagons.
 
There he dismounted and let Gregor take his horse as he searched the milling men for Lindsay. He found her, also searching the crowd for him, and he hurried toward her. When she saw him her face lit up and she threw off her helmet. They came together in a shuss of chain mail and leather, his mouth on hers in a joyous kiss of reunion. He held her to him, wonderful to feel her breathing in his arms, hers tight around his shoulders, her tongue, her lips on his in a way the two of them hadn’t had in what seemed forever. Perhaps it had been forever, for he knew how malleable time could be, and he’d never before missed her the way he had in this absence. He let go his mouth to breathe and pressed his cheek to hers. He murmured into her ear, “I thought I’d lost you.”
 
“I was going to go back to you. Apparently I won’t.”
 
A puzzled frown came over him, and he peered at her. “Huh?”
 
“Apparently I won’t make it back and greet you when you come to London.”
 
“Came to London. That was months ago.”
 
Tears filled her eyes. “I’m sorry. I should have waited.”
 
He nodded. “Uh, yeah. You should have.” Then he kissed her again and hoped she understood he didn’t care about anything but that she was with him again. She kissed him in return, and he hoped she felt the same way.
 
Soon it became apparent the men around them were staring. Alex straightened and addressed the curious. “My wife. You guys remember my wife.”
 
Recognition lit in the eyes of the men who had known Lindsay as Lady Marilyn MacNeil, and she curtsied to them in her ragged man’s clothing and filthy armor. Others frowned at her in an understandable puzzlement, then they all bowed to her and went about their business relinquishing their weapons and shields to the wagons and remounting to move on to the night’s camp. They dispersed to their column, leaving Trefor standing where he’d been all along, staring at Lindsay and looking like a puppy left out in the cold. Alex nearly groaned, for he’d forgotten he had an important introduction to make.

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