The Dark Knight (24 page)

The only pleasant part of the night had been the hours he had spent holding Avalene beneath his cloak, their bodies pressed tightly together for warmth. He still marveled at the way she turned to him for comfort, almost kittenish in the way she burrowed into his hold. Still, the rain was a miserable companion and certainly not conducive to what he had originally planned for the evening. Not one of the pleasures he had fantasized about since their interlude beneath the willow tree had materialized. Now with the Segraves close on their trail, the odds were becoming less favorable that they would enjoy any of their trysts, the innocent rites of courtship he had planned to carry out before they reached London. That was another strike against Segrave. He was beginning to heartily regret his promise to spare the man’s life.

“If the weather improves we can be in London by the end of the week,” Armand said. “Segrave will have a hard time finding us once we are swallowed up by the city and safely behind the palace walls.”

“I studied the faces of the men who rode with him,” Dante said. “None were familiar from Coleway and all of the men wore the Segrave standard rather than Coleway’s.”

“My lord,” Oliver murmured, with a nod of his head toward Rami and Avalene.

Dante watched the bedraggled pair make their way toward them. Rami held Avalene’s arm as if he were escorting his lady across a grand piazza instead of a muddy English road, chattering to her about God only knew what. He doubted Avalene understood more than every third word.

The boy acted fully recovered from his fall, although Dante suspected he still suffered from headaches. Still, Rami had turned out to be much more amiable with Avalene than Dante had hoped, given their troubled introduction. His original plan to send Rami to his sister to train as a squire no longer sounded so logical. Rami was not English and never would be. He was far more adept at the machinations and intrigues that took place within an Italian household. Rami had listened without question to the part he would play in the plan to abduct Lady Avalene, and then had the gall to make a few suggestions as to how best to deceive the lady. Some of what he suggested was rather clever. A child his age who was that well versed in deception belonged in Venice.

Avalene, on the other hand, made him think of the beautiful blond Madonna paintings that could be found in almost every church. There was something serene and yet commanding about her presence. Throughout their escape, not one of the situations he had put her into had ruffled her composure, and yet she blushed prettily whenever he spoke of his desire for her. Not once had she complained about the weather or the other discomforts of the journey, and yet he knew she suffered as much as or more than any of them. She took every hardship in stride and even managed to remain in good spirits. The way she smiled at him, like she was doing right now, made him feel as if he had just received an undeserved blessing.

“Are we still making good time?” she asked, as she came closer.

“Aye,” he said. “If we can keep up this pace, we will stay ahead of the search party.” He knew she meant to take her reins when she reached toward him. Instead, he took her hand and lifted it to his lips to kiss the back of her kid glove. As always, her blush pleased him. “Would
you like to ride with me for a while? Perhaps you could sleep.”

“I do not want to slow us down,” she said, although she did not withdraw her hand from his.

He had been making a concerted effort to touch or hold her whenever the opportunity arose, as long as it did not interfere with their flight. Just a day ago she would have withdrawn her hand from his as quickly as possible. His small attentions during the day coupled with how intimately he held her each night were having their effect. That she now stood calmly within his hold was an encouraging sign. “We will make the best time if you ride your own horse, but tell me if you become too tired.”

She murmured her agreement, and then walked to her horse and waited patiently for him to help her mount. He made sure his hands lingered on her waist and brushed intimately along her hip and thigh. He felt a measure of satisfaction when he saw her shiver, certain it had little to do with the weather. He intended to take every opportunity to learn the shape and feel of her, and make her more and more comfortable beneath his touch while he was about it. If the skies cleared they might even have a dry bed for the night. He had spent most of the long hours in the saddle thinking of the things he would do with her when they weren’t riding. Not all involved kisses and caresses, but those played a major role. He did not want to take things too far while they were on the road, but he was determined to make the most of what little time they had alone together. She would be ready and willing to take him as her lover by the time they reached London, where they would have privacy as well as a comfortable bed. She would be his at last.

As he turned his horse toward the east, he allowed his imagination free rein over fantasies about how they would spend their first few days in London.

Unfortunately, the weather grew markedly worse rather than better, changing over from a light drizzle to a steady rain. Lightning flashed in the distance, followed by an ominous roll of thunder that made his horse toss its head and take an uneasy sidestep, as if they could somehow walk around the sound. They were crossing a wide meadow where the sights and sounds of the storm felt more intense than when they were beneath the canopy of the forest.

Dante’s gaze went to Rami and then to Avalene, who both rode ahead of him. All of the horses were struggling with mud that sucked at their hooves. The horses were spaced farther apart as a result, but they were all within a dozen lengths of each other. Rami rode at point and was just passing beneath a large oak, the only tree in the meadow. Both Rami and Avalene looked pitiful with their hoods pulled low and their shoulders slumped. They had to be cold and soaked to the bone like the rest of them, but he and his men, and even Rami, were accustomed to these sorts of hardships. Avalene was hunched over so far in her saddle that she looked ready to fall off her horse if a good wind caught her. She would never hold up if this weather continued for another four days. Perhaps it was time to have her ride with him again.

A chill wind touched the back of his neck and he glanced over his shoulder. Armand rode behind him with Oliver and the packhorses bringing up the rear. Behind Oliver a towering bank of ominous black clouds marched steadily toward them and the wind suddenly began to gust even as the temperature became instantly cooler. The tall grass in the meadow turned choppy, as if the meadow had suddenly become the churning waters of a sea. The wind created green currents and waves that flattened huge sections of grass across the meadow, then
shifted direction just as quickly to allow grass in the calmer areas to spring back to attention.

Even as he watched, the feeble daylight took on an eerie shade of yellow-green and a solid wall of gray rain moved toward them. The thunder became a constant rumble and the force of the rain pelting the forest sounded almost like the rolling beat of hundreds of drums. Dante’s horse shied nervously when rain mixed with hail began to sting them with the ferocity of a swarm of angry bees.

He looked for Avalene but suddenly could not see beyond a few feet in front of his own horse. Still, he was almost certain she would stop under the tree where she would be safe and spared the sting of the hail. Rami was so determined to prove his injury would not slow them down that Dante was equally certain the boy would still be riding, which meant Avalene would be … alone. Safe and alone.

A wave of panic rolled over him as quickly as the storm had come upon them. The signs became glaringly obvious even as he spurred his horse forward.
The Queen … is alone and seems safe.… Beware Nature’s light in the darkest hour
. He had never known the sky to be darker during the daytime yet such a strange shade of green.

Those thoughts had no more than crossed his mind when the air around him suddenly changed, becoming utterly still and silent. Hail continued to fall from the sky, no longer driven by the winds but landing as if they were pebbles tossed carelessly from an open hand. Just as the last lumps of hail fell, the next sign appeared in an abrupt burst of blinding light, a bolt of lightning that shot straight into the heart of the oak that sheltered Avalene. The shaft of lightning that split the sky was as wide as a river and brighter than the sun. In an instant the
entire top half of the tree burst into a cloud of red and gold flames.

The explosion of sound that immediately followed was nearly as spectacular, a force so powerful that the ground shook, the sound so loud that Dante’s ears rang. His horse stopped dead in its tracks but Dante kept going. Half-blinded and mostly deaf, time seemed to slow down as he sailed through the air. He had a ridiculous thought that this was the first time in his adult life that he had been unseated from a horse.

The landing was harder than he anticipated. It knocked the thoughts from his head and the breath from his body. He rolled onto his back, gasping for air until he felt as much as heard his horse’s hooves pounding dangerously close to where he lay. He curled into a ball and covered his head with one arm while he rubbed mud from his eyes with his free hand. The horse was probably blinded by the lightning as much as he was, and could trample him without knowing it.

His vision finally cleared and he could see that his horse had started to buck as if there were a demon on its back. Even as he struggled to his feet, the bucking turned into long leaps and then the animal bolted toward the forest, passing Armand at a dead run.

Armand had been thrown as well but had somehow managed to hold on to his horse’s reins. He now had his hands full with a different problem. The long reins gave his horse plenty of room to rear up and Armand was doing his best to stay clear of the deadly hooves that slashed the air above him.

Dante turned toward the sound of more rapidly approaching hoofbeats and found himself directly in the path of Avalene’s horse. Even as he made a diving leap to one side, he caught a glimpse of her ashen face and heard her strangled cry of “Help!” as the horse bolted
past him. He was on his feet in an instant, but could only watch helplessly as her horse raced past Armand and Oliver, and then disappeared over the crest of the hill.

Oliver was still mounted, but the packhorses had entangled themselves in the tether lines along with Oliver’s horse, and the animals could do little more than trot in nervous circles. God only knew Rami’s fate. Dante wasted a few precious seconds venting the vilest curse that had ever passed his lips, and then he took off at a run toward Armand, who had his horse under control by the time Dante reached him.

“Both of us!” Dante shouted, pointing toward Armand’s horse. Armand understood and swung into the saddle, then held out his hand so Dante could mount behind him.

They spied Dante’s horse as soon as they reached the top of the hill. The reins trailed along the ground and the horse stepped on the lines and tripped itself twice before they were close enough to grab the bridle. An instant later, Dante was back on his own horse, thankful the reins that had hampered the animal’s flight hadn’t snapped. He held them to a slow but still dangerous canter, given the condition of the road. He scanned the road ahead and the surrounding brush. There was no sign of Avalene.

“There!” Armand shouted, over another boom of thunder. He pointed toward a spot in the road.

At last Dante saw long gashes amongst the puddles where a horse had lost its footing in the mud, but there was no sign that it had gone down. At least the horse was instinctively staying to the road.

They entered the forest again and found the road firmer, which made her trail easier to follow. The branches above them were too high to strike a rider, but she would be hard
pressed to avoid low-hanging branches if the horse took her off the road. The farther they rode, the more he hoped for such an accident. Where was she?

Soon ancient oak, elm, and walnut trees rose high above the forest floor. Rain dripped from the canopy of leaves but no longer fell in torrents. The thick carpet of moss and decaying leaves muffled the sounds of the storm as well as their horses’ hoofbeats.

They had ridden several miles when Dante reined in his horse before a bend in the road. He had a bad feeling about this forest. Armand pulled up beside him.

“Go find Rami and help Oliver gather the horses, and then take them into the woods near the edge of the forest,” Dante said. “Make sure no one can see or hear you from the road. If I do not return by nightfall, search for me in this area.”

“Aye, my lord.”

Armand turned his horse and rode back toward the clearing. Dante left the road and led his horse to a thick clump of brush, where he dismounted. Satisfied that the animal was hidden from view, he made his way forward on foot. Over the years he had learned to trust his instincts and every one of them was on high alert.

His caution was soon rewarded when he found Avalene, but his relief at finding her unharmed was short lived. She was surrounded by more than a score of soldiers, and all wore the colors of Faulke Segrave.

Dante flattened his body against the mossy bark of the tree trunk and muttered under his breath, “And this makes the day perfect.”