The Dark Knight (23 page)

“Are you hungry, my lady?”

Avalene looked up from her sewing to see Armand step through a gap in the willow branches. The smell of wood smoke came to her as if it had followed him. Her stomach rumbled in response. “Aye, a meal would be welcome, Armand. Thank you.”

Armand opened his mouth as if he meant to say something more, but changed his mind at the last minute and let the branches fall back into place. Her gaze went to Rami as she heard Armand walk away.

The boy looked terrified, just as he had every time one of the men came anywhere near them. She could not understand why, unless they had somehow mistreated him. It was also possible he was afraid of all men, since his last master had most definitely mistreated him. However, she did not recall seeing any fear in Rami toward Armand before his fall and he now looked at her, the woman he had all but run from, as if she could answer all his prayers. The child was exceedingly strange.

Rami lay on her cloak with his bandaged head resting on her saddlebag. He had drowsed in and out of sleep all day, but now he was clear-eyed and alert. His brown eyes were almost black in the shade of their makeshift tent, narrowed now in an expression that was far too shrewd for a child of his age. He sat up slowly, as if he wanted to be sure Armand was gone before he drew any attention to himself. His gaze returned to her, an unwavering, penetrating stare that made her uncomfortable.

“You want more willow bark tea?” she asked. He nodded eagerly. She set aside her needle and thread as well as the stocking she was mending, and then reached behind one of the saddlebags to retrieve a wineskin that was now filled with the tea she had brewed earlier that day. Rami nodded and took a long drink from the skin.

“Are you hungry?” she asked. “
Ha fame?
I can ask Armand for an extra portion, if you like.”

Rami’s eyes grew round and frightened again at either the mention of Armand’s name or the extra portion of food, she wasn’t sure, but suspected the fear lay with Armand. He shook his head even as he winced, and then launched into a torrent of words spoken so quickly that Avalene could only understand a scant handful. Mercy. Repay. Stupid. Lord Dante.

“Who is Lord Dante?” she asked. All of the color left Rami’s face. “Oh, is he your last master? The one who starved you?”

Rami squeaked in fright and scrambled backward when Armand suddenly appeared again, stepping through the trailing willow whips.

“My lady, there is fresh meat roasting on the fire if you would care to join me?” He did not wait for her answer, but turned to the boy. “
Ha fame
, Rami?”

Rami shook his head so hard that he had to have hurt himself. He lay back down and pulled the cloak up until just the top of his head was visible.

“He seems quite frightened of you,” Avalene said, knowing the boy could not understand her words.

Armand ignored the remark and spoke again to Rami.
“Soggiorno tranquillo. Capisce?”

“Si, capisco,”
came the reply.

“He was not bothering me,” Avalene protested. “He just needs some rest and then I am sure he will be himself again.”

“I am sure you are right,” Armand said agreeably. He extended his hand. “Shall we eat, my lady?”

Avalene gave her hand to Armand to help her rise. Beyond the willow tree the sun almost touched the hills to the west, a glowing red beacon framed by dark clouds that would surely bring rain before morning.

Armand had built a fire by the edge of the bluff with what looked like a rabbit roasting on a spit and an iron kettle nestled in the coals. The closer she got to the fire, the more her stomach rumbled at the enticing scents. She took a seat on a ledge as he indicated, and then took a moment to study her companion as he prepared a bowl of food for her.

Armand was, without doubt, the prettiest man she had ever laid eyes upon. Tall and broad-shouldered with blond hair and blue eyes, he fit every idealized description of the hero knights depicted in the troubadours’ tales. Verily, he could have walked straight out of Camelot or a painting of the Rapture. All he lacked was a halo.

He handed her a spoon and bowl of food, and then began to fill his own bowl as he asked, “My lady, is something amiss?”

Avalene shook her head. “Do you think Sir Percival will return soon?”

“Aye, my lady.”

She waited in vain for him to elaborate, or to make some other comment that might start a conversation. Several hours ago he had told her of Percival’s departure to ride on patrol using the same terse tone he employed now. She had been disappointed in both Percival’s absence as well as his failure to tell her himself that he was leaving. It was a foolish disappointment. She could not expect him to check with her each time he made a decision. And there might be benefits to his absence. Surely the men who rode with him knew him better than any other. “Have you known Sir Percival very long?”

“Aye, my lady.”

“How long?” she asked, getting annoyed with his brusque answers.

“Many years.”

It unnerved her the way he held her gaze with each question until she grew uncomfortable under the scrutiny and looked away. He might be pleasing to look upon, but there was something about Armand that she did not like, something aside from his nearly-rude conversational habits.

She concentrated on finishing her meal as she watched Armand refill his bowl.

“If I may have your leave, my lady, I will take a meal to Oliver.”

Avalene nodded, and then went to the spring to rinse her hands and get a drink of sweet water. Next she found some bushes to see to more private matters. Armand had still not returned from the ridge by the time she went back to the bluff, so she sat down to keep watch over the valley. She had scarce found her seat when she saw a flash of color at the crest of a hill across the valley, barely distinguishable in the fading light, but there all the same.

Her heart lodged in her throat until she saw a shape that had to be Sir Percival mounted on his big bay horse emerge for a few more seconds before he disappeared again beneath the canopy of trees. She watched the road behind him, but it did not appear he was being followed. Just as she turned to see what was keeping Armand, she heard a series of short whistles and he appeared beside her.

“Go back to the willow tree, my lady.” He took the spit that had held the rabbit and began to spread apart the embers in the fire. “Pack whatever you have and be prepared to ride by the time Sir Percival arrives here.”

“What is wrong?” she demanded.

“Sir Percival would not return during the daylight unless he encountered a search party,” Armand told her, even as he picked up her empty bowl and began to scoop sand and gravel over the ashes. “Pack your things and rouse Rami. Sick or not, he will have to ride.”

She hurried to do as he said and found Rami already sitting up and looking anxious. “We must leave.”

“Che cosa ha ditto?”

“We must go,” she said, trying desperately to remember the word in Italian. The answer suddenly came to her. “
Andiamo!
You must not be sick again or I am certain Sir Percival will be very displeased. No matter what, if any of the men ask how you feel, tell them you feel fine. Do you understand?
Capisce?
”

“Come?”

Avalene rolled her eyes, knowing it was not the boy’s fault that he couldn’t understand her. It was her lack of skills at Italian and her haste to pack their belongings.
“Andiamo. Capisce?”

“Sì, andiamo.”
He rose from the makeshift bed and began to roll up the cloak.
“Dobbiamo lasciare.”

“Well, I’m sure that means something close enough to what I was trying to say,” she muttered.

She piled as much into her arms as possible and left a smaller pile for Rami to carry. As she made her way from the willow, she saw that Rami understood her intent and followed her with the rest of their belongings. The horses were at the top of the ridge and she trudged up the hill to find both Oliver and Armand saddling the horses. Armand went back to the willow to retrieve her saddle. Within scant minutes, the saddlebags were added and the horses stood tethered but ready. She turned to watch the clearing, waiting impatiently as Sir Percival rode up to the ridge and finally dismounted.

“Innaffi il cavallo,”
he said to Rami, as he handed the boy his reins. Avalene understood enough to know that the horse was to be watered, and Rami set off for the spring on unsteady feet to accomplish the task. Percival barely spared her a glance and turned instead to his men. “The alarm must have gone up soon after we left and they pressed hard in pursuit yesterday. There are close to thirty of them but they are burdened with more packhorses and gear. Still, they are only about four hours behind us.”

“We could hide in the hills and let them ride past us,” Armand suggested.

“I thought of that as well,” Percival said, as he shook his head. “There is only the one road to London in this district and we will run the risk of either catching up with them or meeting them on the road should they decide to turn back. The odds are better that we can outrun them. All of our horses except mine are fresh and they are encumbered with more men and packhorses than we have, which means it will take them longer each day to set and break their camps. We can ride another
twenty or thirty miles today and tonight if the moon holds, and gain at least as many more miles tomorrow.”

“Did you see my uncle?” Avalene asked. Despite his failing eyesight, Lord Brunor was an excellent tracker.

Percival gave her a strange look, and then shook his head. “I was too far away to see their faces.”

“The horses are ready to leave,” Oliver told him. “If you don’t mind switching mounts with Rami, the bay would hardly know the boy was on his back and you would have a fresh horse for the next leg of the ride. Or, would you rather I remove the packs from the Arabian and change the saddles?”

“I’ll ride Rami’s horse.” Percival tilted his head to look past Armand. “Here he is now. Let us depart.”

Oliver and Armand began to remove the tethers from the horses while Percival led Bodkin to Avalene and handed her the reins. He lifted her effortlessly into the saddle, his hands lingering only a moment on her waist.

“I take it Rami is well enough to ride or you would be complaining by now,” Percival said, still looking up at her as she rearranged her skirts over the saddle.

“He rested most of the day and is well on his way to recovery,” she said. “You were kind to allow him time to mend. I doubt his injury will slow us down.”

“Excellent. Your curative powers must be exceptional.” He glanced over his shoulder toward where his men were busy preparing the horses, and then looked back at her. “There is something that has been bothering me all day.”

He crooked his finger, indicating she should come nearer. What had she done wrong to earn such a forbidding look? She leaned down and then almost lost her balance when he cupped the back of her head with one hand to bring her face closer to his.

“It has bothered me that I had to wait all day for another
taste of your lips,” he murmured. “Kiss me again, Avalene.”

She did as he asked and immediately lost herself in its warmth and urgency. All too soon their lips broke apart when her horse shifted its weight. Percival rubbed his thumb across her lower lip as if to seal his kiss there, and then he turned away to mount his own horse. He glanced over his shoulder as they started forward and gave her a mischievous wink. And that gave her plenty to think about for the next few hours.

Oliver, Dante, and Armand stood at the edge of a small creek late the next morning. They watered the horses while Avalene and Rami wandered across the road in the opposite direction, Avalene to find a secluded place to relieve herself and Rami to stay close enough to make certain nothing happened to her.

“You are certain it was Faulke Segrave?” Oliver asked.

Dante wiped away the misty drizzle from his face, and then kept an eye on the brush where the pair had disappeared. This was the first opportunity he’d had to speak privately to his men since he had discovered they were being pursued. “I recognized the lead rider’s standard from the banners in Avalene’s chamber; the Segrave’s bloodred dragon on a black field. Every one of the horsemen had the same device emblazoned on their surcoats and all looked well armed. If Segrave and his men manage to overtake us, ’tis doubtful we could hold out against ten-to-one odds. That they are almost within striking distance means Segrave picked up our trail immediately after Avalene and I left Coleway.”

“Aye, so it would seem,” Armand agreed.

“The man is determined. I fear he will not be easy to dissuade,” Oliver added.

“Aye, I have yet to formulate a persuasive argument that does not involve the threat of death,” Dante admitted. “ ’Tis a dilemma I have never faced before.”

He had also not expected to find anyone pursuing them within a score of miles. His guard had been lowered by his own arrogance as well as by distracting thoughts of his captive. He had almost ridden right up to Segrave’s party before the sounds of the horses and armor finally penetrated his dulled senses. He had managed to get off the road and make his way to a ridge where he could remain hidden yet still see Segrave’s soldiers as they rode by. It had taken time to work his way through the woods and get ahead of their pursuers again. As a result, Segrave’s party was uncomfortably close.

“I found another of Mordecai’s cards this morning that warns of leaving Avalene alone in the moonlight,” he told the men, and then he recited the magician’s cryptic message. “I have thought about its meaning all morning and I feel certain that ‘Nature’s light in the darkest hour’ must mean moonlight.”

“Aye, that would make sense,” Oliver said. “So that means she will be safe as long as she is not left alone at night, but does that also mean we will stay a step ahead of Segrave?”

“ ’Tis likely everything will proceed as planned so long as we make certain Avalene is never left alone while it is dark.”

Dante actually looked forward to accomplishing that goal. Avalene had slept in his arms again last night, albeit far less comfortably than in their lair beneath the willow tree. Yesterday they had ridden the thirty miles he had been determined to put behind them before clouds finally obscured the moon and they had to stop or risk injuring the horses. They had barely dismounted and unsaddled the horses before the rain had started.
The massive oaks they camped beneath had offered only temporary protection from the rain and their clothes were soon soaked through to their skin.