Rise of the Defender (134 page)

     They estimated that Dustin had at least a
three hour jump on them and Christopher honestly expected to find her sleeping
by the side of the road. He could not imagine that she would ride into the
night, especially in her condition, and was surprised to realize that she had
done exactly that. A three hour head-start was a substantial lead, and they
tried to spur the horses faster to make up for lost time.

     Richard said very little to him the entire
time and he knew it was because his king was disappointed in his Defender's
behavior. Christopher decided to save the man the trouble of relieving him of
his post, since he had already decided months ago to resign as Defender of the
Realm.

     “Sire, there is something I must speak to
you about,” he said over the noise of the horses.

      Richard looked at him. “What is it?”

     “I will resign this night as Defender of
the Realm,” he said. “I feel that with my....”

     Richard looked shocked. “You will not. I
shall not hear of it.”

     Now Christopher was surprised. “But...
sire, with everything that has happened, surely you are ashamed to have me as
your champion.”

     Richard was appalled. “Ashamed? Good
Christ, Chris, how can you in all honesty say that? That is the most ridiculous
statement I have ever heard.”

     Christopher looked at his king, at a loss
for words. Richard actually looked angry as he explained.

     “Chris, you are worth your weight in gold one
hundred times over,” he said firmly. “I would give up an army of a million men
if I could have a mere one hundred of you. I will not consider giving you up as
my champion.”

     “But, Richard,” Christopher lowered his
voice as much as he could over the pounding hooves. “I have not acted the
Defender very well since returning to England. The situation with Marcus and my
wife as a good example.”

     Richard made a face. “Chris, this incident
is a result of nothing but my own stupidity,” he said. “I should have rewarded
Marcus when I rewarded you, given him his own wife and keep, but I did not.
Arthur suggested Marcus first, you know, but I thought you were more
deserving.  This little 'situation,’ as you call it only proves to me that you
are a man of flesh and blood, with human weaknesses. It pleases me to know that
your heart is not made of stone.”

     Christopher stared back at his king, a
confused look on his face. “Why was Marcus considered before me?” he asked.

     Richard shrugged. “Because you were too
all-powerful, too consumed with your profession,” he answered. “I knew you
would never get married, and Arthur thought Marcus might be easier to force
into an arranged marriage. It was not because he preferred Marcus over you. He
just did not think you would consider it.”

     Christopher looked away, his eyes roving
across the darkness. He wasn't particularly offended, for he knew the king's
words to be true. Arthur simply wanted Dustin married, to either the Lion's
Claw or the general, and Richard saw it as an opportunity to reward his
faithful. In Richard's view, Christopher had been the more faithful and
received the prize.

     “Not only have I reconsidered my stance,
but I am most grateful to you for ordering me to wed,” Christopher said
finally.

     Richard smiled faintly. “In spite of
everything you regret nothing?”

     Christopher shook his head deliberately,
his only answer.

     The endless road loomed ahead under the
silver moon, beckoning them faster.

***

     Morning dawned and Dustin was exhausted
finally. She slowed Hercules to a halt beside a small stream off the beaten
path and dismounted carefully. Grateful that Christin was still asleep, she
moved to lay her down, but the moment she jostled the baby, big gray eyes
opened and Christin was ready for the new day. With a weary smile, Dustin
resigned herself to the fact that she would receive no sleep this morn.

     She fed Christin and gave her a quick
little bath in the icy stream, which the baby loved in spite of the chill, and
bundled her back up again for the journey. Splashing her own face with water
and tying her hair back, she feasted on a piece of bread and a hunk of cheese
before re-securing her daughter and mounting Hercules.

     Back on the road, she let the horse walk
instead of lope, for she was afraid the rocking motion would put her to sleep.
The forest was losing its density and as she crested a small hill, she saw a
group of riders approaching from the east.

     Fearful, Dustin urged Hercules onward at a
run. The last thing she wanted was to meet up with riders, for a woman
traveling alone was a foolish creature. Bandits and cutthroats lined the roads
closer to London, but she hoped that this far north, she might escape them.
Kicking Hercules until he grunted, she made rapid time south.

     Much to her horror, the riders had seen her
and moved quickly to cut her off. She was no match for men who knew the forest
intimately, and within minutes, she was routed. She reined her horse around and
tried to make an escape, but quickly discovered that she was boxed in from all
sides.

     Dustin's heart was pounding as she eyed the
group of men who had surrounded her. She cursed her stupidity, but it was too
late. Divine intervention was the only way she was going to make it out of this
predicament.

     One of the soldiers dismounted and made his
way to her, studying her openly.

     “Pray, my lady, what are you doing out
here, alone?” he asked pleasantly.

     Dustin was so terrified she could hardly
speak. “Ride…riding, my lord. Riding to Wiltshire.”

     The soldier eyed her. “You are a pretty
piece of fluff. What is your name?”

     She paused, wondering if she should tell
the man who she was married to. Mayhap if she told him who she was, he would
let her go.

     “Lady Dustin de Lohr,” she said.

     The man looked at her a moment, then cocked
his head. “Are you related to the Defender de Lohr?”

     “I am his wife,” she said, suddenly brave.
“Now, allow me to go on my way and I won't mention to my husband that you
detained me.”

     The man looked stunned. Then, suddenly, his
eyes widened and he smiled a terrible smile. “By God. I remember you. In
London, I remember the fuss that was made over you. Oh, this is grand, indeed.”

     He went off into gales of whooping laughter
and Dustin glared at him.

     “What's so funny?” she demanded harshly.
“Get out of my way.”

     He stopped laughing when she tried to steer
Hercules around him. Reaching out, he grasped the horse's reins and pointed a
finger at her.

     “That will be enough from you, little
miss,” he said sternly.

     “Let go of my horse.” she snapped.

     He did not, of course, and cuffed Hercules
when the horse snapped at him. “I can see the animal is about as well tempered
as the mistress,” he remarked. “I know of a man who would be quite interested
to see you, Lady Defender.”                 

     Dustin was torn between fear and anger. “Who?”

     The soldier smiled, but it was entirely
fake. “Your greatest admirer, of course. Prince John.”

     Dustin gasped. “Prince John?”

     The soldier motioned to the men behind him.
“Take her. Secure her horse.”

     Dustin shrieked as he reached up for her,
startling Christin into a screaming bundle. Immediately the men halted.

     “What's that?” the soldier demanded.

     “My daughter, you fool,” Dustin said
nastily. “You have upset her. Now let me go and I will not tell my husband of
your actions.”

     The soldier reached up and grabbed her,
noticing before he even set her on the ground that she was pregnant.

     “By God, woman,” he hissed. “What fool let
you travel alone?”

     Dustin twisted away from him, holding
Christin fiercely. “Do not touch me,” she spat in return. “Give me back my
horse.”

     The soldier put his hands on his hips; he
was a nasty, fierce man, but he seemed to have something most of John's
soldiers lacked; a bit of control.

     “You shall ride with me,” he said firmly.
“Foul-tempered little chick.”

     Dustin scowled. “I shall not go with you to
the prince. I shall kill myself first.”

     “With what?” he asked. “If you have a
dagger, you had better give it to me now and save us both a lot of trouble.”

     “I have no dagger,” Dustin said with
contempt. “But if I did, I'd use it on you.”

     He nodded in agreement. “No doubt. Come,
now.”

     He yanked her by the arm and pulled her,
struggling and twisting, over to his mount. His men collected Hercules and
grinned as he lifted the spitting, fighting female onto the back of his horse.

     “Stop that or you shall hurt yourself,” he
ordered. “I shall not be responsible for the death of the babe you carry.”

     Dustin stopped, looking at him with fear
and hatred. “You are already responsible for kidnap, and when John is finished
with me, you shall be responsible for murder as well.”

     “Is that what you think? That he's going to
kill you?” the soldier asked, mounting behind her. “Lady, he would never
dispose of a pretty thing such as yourself. You shall be added to his
collection.”

     The men laughed bawdily and Dustin glanced
around, bewildered. “What are you talking about?”

     “Surely your husband, the great Lion's
Claw, has told you about harems?” the man said, gathering his reins. “I
understand he had a magnificent one in Ascalon.”

     Dustin did not even know what a harem was,
but she did not like the sound of lt. “I am no offering to be made to a deviant
prince.”

     “Aye, you are,” the soldier answered
firmly. “You will be my great contribution to John's cause. The wife of the
Defender delivered personally by me.”

     “But he's in Nottingham.” she pointed out.

     The soldier looked at her. “Do not you even
know where you are?”

     Not really, she did not, but she refused to
answer him. The soldier laughed.

     “To Nottingham, ladies,” he said to his
men. “This prize ought to get us a week of women and ale.”

     The men cheered and yelled, confusing and
frightening Dustin all the more. Against her body, Christin started to cry.
Dustin tried to comfort her daughter, not knowing what else to do or say.

     Fighting them was not an option because of
her condition and she resigned herself to the fact that she was now a captive
of Prince John. She wondered what was a worse fate; outlaws or the bastard
prince. She would almost rather take the outlaws.

     She had taken a foolish gamble and she had
lost, and now her fate and the fate of her children rested in the hands of a
morally corrupt man. She could not help wondering that if Christopher ever did
catch up to her, she was in for the spanking of her life.

***

     “I do not like this,” Richard growled. “I
do not like this at all.”

     Christopher was on the ground, studying the
myriad of hoof prints and boot prints on the soft earth. His sky-blue eyes
turned easterly as he studied the horizon.

     “Well?” Richard demanded harshly.

     Marcus wandered the perimeter of the hoof
prints, his eyes glazed with thought. He came to within a foot or so of
Christopher and his eyes trailed off in the same direction as the Defender's.

     “Nottingham,” he murmured.

     Christopher did not respond for a moment.
He continued to stare to the horizon as if in a trance. “John is so bloody bent
on protecting his holdings that he would indeed have a patrol this far north.
Christ, I cannot believe they actually found her.”

     “Look, Chris,” Edward pointed to the
ground. “Smaller boot prints. Female boots.”

     Christopher did not turn around. “I know. I
saw them.” He turned around then, slowly. “The patrol found her, took her off
Hercules and put her on with one of them, and then headed back for Nottingham.”

     “It is at least a day's ride to
Nottingham,” Marcus said. “We can catch them if we ride hard enough.”

     “We have already ridden hard enough,”
Christopher looked at the sweaty, tired horses. ”We shall succeed in killing
our mounts if we do not rest them before proceeding.” He slapped at his leg
armor, weary and defeated, and wandered back over to his horse. “We shall rest
now for a few hours. The horses need it.”

     “But she's with a roving band of soldiers.”
Marcus said quietly. “We have got to get to her as soon as we can.”

     Christopher knew that; with every fiber of
his being he felt it. But he could not, would not allow himself to get caught
up in the panic.