Rise of the Defender (141 page)

     All of the knights responded by the
customary cry, “God and King Richard,” and spurred the destriers from the
crest, riding to their positions along the column. Only Christopher and his
king would ride in front, leading the troops to certain glory.

***

     Dustin was shaken and encouraged by her
encounter with Darren. Thrilled that Christopher was alive and wildly relieved
that he was coming for her, she tried to maintain a calm attitude for the
benefit of her captors. She was tremendously eager to remove Christin from
harm's way and thanked God for sending Darren to her. She could take care of
herself, but she was terrified for Christin's safety. Terrified that somehow,
John would take advantage of the infant.

     The afternoon passed and the heat was
bearable, but sticky. In her condition, she was always hot and felt miserable
and damp as she dressed Christin in a durable linen outfit that would protect
her and wear well. She doubled her nappy so she wouldn't leak all over Darren
as he carried her to safety and put a matching hat on her head to protect her
little ears and scalp. Christin, hating anything on her head, kept pulling it
off until Dustin gave her a piece of dry bread to chew on to distract her.

     Dustin felt as if the Devil was nipping at
her heels and her sense of urgency was paramount. She did not know why, but it
was as if an unseen force was pushing her, making her race against herself to
get her daughter out of Nottingham. She was almost panicked in her urgency, but
she forced herself to calm for Christin's sake. How would she explain
Christin's absence to John and her grandfather? Surely they would demand to
know where the child was? She would simply have to think of a logical,
believable explanation, at least until Christopher and the army arrived. After
that, she did not care. Christin would be safe and that was all that mattered.

     Time went quickly and before she realized
it, the hour was upon her and it was time to take Christin to the bailey. She
could only pray that Darren was obedient, that God and luck were with them, and
that they would make it safely out of Nottingham. As she prepared a final tiny
bag with food for her daughter, Gabrielle knocked softly and entered the room.

     “I thought you might like to…..what are you
doing?” she asked.

     Dustin thought about trying to hide her
plans, but there was no use to it. Gabrielle was her friend, and she would have
to trust her.

     “I am getting Christin out of here,” she
said.  “Today. Now.”

     “What?” Gabrielle's eyes widened. “What are
you talking about?”

     Dustin took a quick breath to bolster her
courage and pulled Gabrielle down on the bed beside her.

     “My husband’s squire is here,” she said
softly. “He came to watch over me, he says, by order of Christopher, but I in
turn ordered him to take Christin out of here. Richard is riding to my aid,
Gabrielle, and Nottingham will be a living hell. I do not want my daughter to
perish or be used as a pawn in this evil game John plays. I want her safe.”

     Gabrielle looked deeply fearful, but there
was also a glimmer of hope in her eyes. “Richard is coming for you? And your
husband? Dustin, how marvelous!”

     Dustin nodded swiftly. “I must get Christin
to Darren. I told him to meet me by the cobbler's shed and he should be there
now. I must go.”

     Gabrielle shook her head. “'Tis dangerous,
Dustin. John usually takes his walk about this time and if he was to see you….”

     Dustin swallowed hard and squeezed
Gabrielle's hand. “I shall just have to take that chance. Nothing is more
important than Christin's life.”

     As she rose to gather Christin's things,
Gabrielle grasped her arm gently. “Dustin, will you…will you take me with you?
I have nowhere else to go and....”

     Dustin did not even let her finish her
sentence. “Of course you are coming with me. You do not think for one moment
that I would leave you here?”

     Gabrielle smiled weakly. “Nay, I suppose
not. But I had to ask.”

     Dustin flashed her a quick smile and
gathered Christin. “Now, I must make my little trip,” her gaze going to her
innocent daughter's face. “Say good-bye to Lady Gabrielle, Christin. Tell her
that you will see her later, at Lioncross.”

     Gabrielle kissed the baby several times. “I
miss her already, Dustin. But you are correct; she is not safe here.”

     Suddenly the door swung open and Ralph was
in the doorway, his beady black eyes focusing on Dustin immediately. Dustin's
heart went into her throat; she was terrified that Ralph had heard everything
as he wandered slowly toward them.

     “My ladies” he greeted, eyeing Christin as
if she were a lower life form. “The prelude to the evening meal is being served
in the main hall. Lady Dustin, I have been asked to accompany you.”

     Dustin blanched; her plans, her daughter.
She began to shake, praying Ralph could not see her despair and fighting the
urge to tell him to go to hell. She must remain polite and neutral if she were
going to get through this.

     “I see,” she said hoarsely, clutching
Christin. “May I at least change clothing?”

     Ralph's eyes raked over her pregnant form
in the soft linen surcoat. “No need, I'd say. You look ravishing.”

     One attempt to stall foiled Dustin cleared
her throat and glanced at Gabrielle, a plan formulating quickly in her mind.
“Is Lady Gabrielle to attend, also?”

     Ralph looked at Gabrielle disinterestedly.
“Not that I know of. The whores do not usually eat with privileged.”

     Dustin was stung on behalf of Gabrielle,
who met the statement unflinchingly. Suddenly, she saw the way clear and felt a
gush of relief as she handed Christin into Gabrielle's arms.

     “Very well, Ralph,” she said briskly.
“Gabrielle, be sure and take Christin for her walk in the bailey or she will
never get to sleep. And be sure to stop by the cobbler's shed as I was planning
to and see if he has made those shoes in my size.”

     Gabrielle stunned face suddenly registered
realization, and she nodded. “As you say, my lady.  'Twill be my pleasure.”

     Dustin smiled at her, her body quivering
with anxiety and relief. Ralph didn’t notice, however; he reached out, taking
her elbow.

     “Come then, Lady Dustin,” he said. “Your
admiring throng await.”

     She avoided his gaze, wondering who
composed this ‘admiring throng’ and allowed him to lead her from the room.

     When the door closed, Gabrielle let out a
loud exhale and looked at Christin.

     “Come now, little one,” she kissed her
shakily on the forehead. “Your escort awaits.”

     Darren was indeed waiting. Even though he
did not know who the strange woman was who was holding Christin, she seemed to
focus in on him immediately and walked directly toward him. She was a
beautiful, refined woman and he found himself speechless as she reached him.

     “You must take Christin,” she whispered,
handing the babe to him. “There is no time to waste.”

     He took the child, open mouthed, a hundred
questions bubbling forth in his mind.

     “Who are you? How did you know me?” he
stammered, all the while glancing about to make sure none of John's soldiers
were watching.

     “I am a friend of Lady Dustin's,” Gabrielle
explained quickly. “Hurry. You must leave.”

     “Wait!” Darren insisted. “Where is Lady
Dustin? And how did you know me?”

     Gabrielle looked over her shoulder
nervously. “Lady Dustin is with John and Ralph at the moment. I knew you were
Lord Christopher's squire because you have that look about you. Now go.”

     “What look?” Darren demanded.

     Gabrielle gave him a small smile. “The look
of goodness and purity. You are soon to be a knight, are you not? Now, please
hurry before you are discovered. They would not take kindly to you, young
squire.”

     Darren tore his eyes off her lovely face
and looked about, not wanting to be found out, especially with little Christin
in his arms. Everything was happening so fast and nothing was as he and Lord
Christopher had intended. He had barely been in Nottingham half of a day and
already, he was leaving. But he was leaving with a most precious cargo, and he
knew that his liege would not fault him for straying from the objective.

     He glanced down at Christin's wide gray
eyes, looking up at him with interest. He felt his heart soften, the
unmistakable swell of protectiveness filling him. She was so young, so
trusting, and he would not fail her. He
could
not. This was his liege's
child, his flesh and blood, and he would protect her with his life. He was
still torn for the fact that he would not be remaining behind to shadow Lady
Dustin, but he saw that this little life was more important, as her mother had insisted.

     “Thank you, then, my lady,” he whispered,
covering Christin's head with his heavy black cloak. “I shall do as ordered.”

     Gabrielle turned his back on him, not so
much as acknowledging his reply. She was shaking with fear, afraid that someone
had seen her pass the baby off. John's men were everywhere and she was
constantly watched, but she was as sure as she could be that this time, no one
had followed her. They were beginning to trust her more and, therefore, hound
her less.

     With a straight back and the confidence of
knowing that her plight would soon be ended with the approach of Richard, she
made her way back into the castle.

***

     Dustin was in a living nightmare. With John
on one side of her and Ralph on the other, she fought off wave after wave of
nausea. Sir Dennis and her grandfather, Lord Bruce, rounded out the lovely
little group and she knew she had a permanently sour expression, but it did not
matter. She did not care what they thought.

     “You are not wearing the jewels I sent to
you,” Lord Bruce said firstly, forgoing any greeting.

     Dustin was tired of being nice, tired of
being respectful to the point of servitude. Her husband and the bloody king of
England were coming for her and with the knowledge, she felt confident. With
men so potent on her side, how could the likes of John and Ralph and her
grandsire harm her? She fixed Lord Bruce right in the eye.

     “Obviously, you do not know me well, sire,”
she said coldly. “I hate jewels and frivolous clothes. I will wear what I deem
comfortable.”

     She had John and Ralph's attention with
that statement. They looked to Lord Bruce to see how he would react. Lord Bruce
did not disappoint; his eyes narrowed the same way his granddaughter's did when
she was displeased.

     “You will wear what I request, Lady
Dustin,” he countered. “And furthermore, you will not take such a tone with me
lest you find your backside blistered.”

     “You wouldn't dare!” she shot back, tired
and irritated and full of pregnant hormones.

     His eyebrows shot up. “Do you test me,
then? I shall put you over my knee as I did your mother when she was
disrespectful.”

     Dustin raised a disbelieving eyebrow at
him, glancing at John and feeling the need to play one man against the other.
She had created dissension within Christopher's ranks unknowingly; she wondered
what she could do to John's men should she set her mind to it. She could
confuse and anger them so greatly that mayhap they would be glad to hand her
over to Richard and Christopher without so much as a protest. For whatever the
reason, she would give them the respect they were giving her.

     “My mother is dead, Lord Bruce, and unable
to verify your story,” she said, giving John her full attention. “What would
you recommend to eat, sire? This dish looks interesting.”

     John was amused to see her ignoring Bruce
plainly. The man had boasted endlessly about his family ties when he had
discovered his granddaughter was a woman of importance, but she clearly wanted
nothing to do with him. John himself actually spooned her a helping of the
capon in fruit sauce and sat back while she delved into it.

     But Bruce was furious with her behavior. He
was embarrassed at the very least. “Sire, I would speak with my granddaughter
alone, with your permission,” Lord Bruce was up from his chair.

     John put up a hand. “You may speak with her
if that is all you truly intend to do,” he said. “I forbid you to lay a hand on
her, Bruce. I mean it.”

     Bruce flushed red, eyeing Dustin angrily
but seeing the situation for what it was. John wanted his granddaughter for
himself and he would not be allowed to lay a hand on her, at least until he had
grown tired of the game. John did not like damaged goods.

     Slowly, he regained his seat and tried to
focus on something other than his damaged pride. Dustin, fully aware of her
grandfather's embarrassment, continued to eat what was in front of her and
ignored Bruce completely. It was strange that she felt safer with John than
with her own grandfather. Yet in truth she felt safe with none of them, and she
was hard pressed to decide the lesser of the evils.