Vengeance 03 - Believe In Me (6 page)

“Tired?” he asked.

She nodded, her gaze not meeting his.

He lifted her down with ease, unable to believe how good his shoulder felt. While still weak from lack of use, the deep nagging pain was gone.

“Thank you,” he told her as he set her on the ground. He continued to hold her until at last her eyes met his. “You’ve given me a gift beyond measure.”

She raised a brow.
“And?”

He frowned, confused by her question. Obviously, his simple statement of gratitude wasn’t enough. “I am in your debt. Is there a price I should offer to pay?”

Her pale face flushed. “Do you think I did it for money? Do you think I find injured people to heal so I can receive payment from them?”

“Nay.
Of course not. I meant no affront.”

Her anger fled as quickly as it had come. “The only thing I would ask of you is to let me go.”

“And I would give you all that I could except for that.” He shook his head, reluctant to disappoint her. “I would think having the bishop as your guardian would be perfect for one such as you. Who better to help you than him?”

Now it was her turn to shake her head.
“One such as me?” She closed her eyes for a moment. “I see that I will not change your mind.”

“As I’ve
told you before, I am duty bound to deliver you to him. Perhaps after you meet with him, your feelings will change.”

With a sigh, she
opened her eyes. The sadness in her expression made him sorry he couldn’t comply with her wishes. But he had a mission of his own to complete: finding his place in this world and making certain he was worthy of the second chance God had given him.

B
reaking his word to a bishop would not aid his cause.

He changed the subject, d
eciding there was nothing more to be said on that particular topic. “Would you care to rest?”

“I
’d prefer to stretch my legs first.” She moved to step away.

Reluctant to let her go too far alone, he offered his arm.

She stared at it then looked up at him. “What? Don’t you trust me?”

He cocked his head, hoping to lighten her mood. “Is it so difficult to believe that I would like to spend some time in your company?”
Never mind that he had just told himself to keep his distance. Something about the lady was irresistible.

“Aye.
That is very difficult to believe.”

William tipped his head back and laughed. Henry turned from his conversation with Sister Mawde at the sound, making William realize it had been some time since he’d laughed like that.
He couldn’t believe how good he felt. That damned injury had smothered his normal enjoyment of life. Now that he had it back, he felt as if he could climb mountains.

Cristiana smiled,
though it seemed reluctantly.

“Well, it is true.” He took her hand and tucked it into the crook of his
arm as he smiled down at her. “Beautiful day, is it not?”

Her
continued smile was all the answer he needed. They walked together around the edge of the clearing, stopping here and there to admire a particularly golden leaf or an interesting rock. He found her ability to find beauty in the ordinary refreshing. In the past, he would’ve looked at a leaf and thought it nothing more than a leaf. Yet since the accident, he noticed the way the sunlight filtered through the evergreens, the way a bird cocked its head as it watched them. And somehow, sharing an appreciation of such things with her made them all the more fascinating.

“Cristiana, you
take delight in items most never see,” he told her.

“I’ve learned that if you don’t stop to admire the little things, the big things no longer matter.”

He pondered her words, wondering how she’d arrived at such a clever observation. “I couldn’t agree more.”

“Oh!” She clutched his arm as a squirrel hopped onto a log nearby. They both stilled, enjoying the moment as the creature flicked its tail at them and then bounded off. “What do you
suppose he was thinking?”

“I hope they
don’t hunger for squirrel meat?” William asked with a smile.

Cristiana shook her head, her smile genuine. Then she stopped and looked up at him. “What happened
when you were injured?”

William looked away as a myriad of emotions chased through him. “I was at a jousting tournament in Poitou, preparing to go on to the lists when I was struck from behind.”

She frowned. “But the wound was on your shoulder.”

“
Only one of several. That first strike was to my head and knocked me unconscious. The man stole my colors and left me bound and gagged. Sometime later, the villain returned to thrust a lance into my shoulder.”

Cristiana gasped. “Why?”

“He had just killed another man on the lists and wanted me to take the blame for it. Apparently the man had been struck in the shoulder, and he wanted me to have the same injury. And, of course, he returned my colors.”

“Then what happened?”

“I awoke to find an angry lord screaming that I had murdered his son. He hit me on the head as well, and plunked me in a boat to cross the channel. The next thing I remember was freezing in some damp dungeon with my shoulder festering and no recollection of where I was or how I’d gotten there.”

“
How terrible.”

William swallowed. It had indeed been terrible. He’d felt so helpless,
so damned scared that he was going to die in that tiny cell with no one the wiser. The memory of that helpless feeling still gave him nightmares. “Fortunately for me, the daughter of that old lord decided I was innocent and aided me, even going so far as to haul me in a cart to my brother’s holding.”

“How brave of her.”
Cristiana’s brow creased as she considered the details of accomplishing such a feat.

“Aye.
Very brave. She is a unique lady,” he added, thinking of Elizabeth with love and gratitude. “Once she arrived at my brother’s gate, she left me there as she didn’t want to be caught and have her father implicated.”

He waved away Cristiana’s look of astonishment.

“She hid in the trees until she made sure I was found. But my brother didn’t know that. So after he saw me settled and did all he could for me, including having the priest give me last rites—”

“Nay!”
She took his hand, smoothing hers back and forth over it. He wondered if she realized what she was doing.

“Three times
I’m told,” William said with a smile he didn’t feel. “I nearly didn’t make it. My brother couldn’t stand watching me lay there anymore, so he left to seek revenge.”

“But how did he know who the culprit was
?”

William held silent for a long moment, wondering if he should explain his brother’s gift. On the one hand, it wasn’t his secret to tell. On the other hand, perhaps Cristiana would appreciate that she was not alone. There were other unique people in the world.

“Nicholas has second sight.”

Her lips parted and her hand stopped caressing his.
“Visions?”

William nodded. “’Tis something he’s struggled with his
entire life.”

Cristiana dropped his hand and turned away. “Being
...different is a challenge. Of that there is no doubt.”

“And you, Cristiana?” He stepped around so
he could face her again. “How has your gift changed you?”

“Impossible to say, isn’t it? For I’ve never been without it. I’m certain your brother and I have several things in common.
I should like to meet him.”

“He and the lady I mentioned
, Elizabeth, are now married and she is with child.”

“Truly?”
She appeared astonished at the thought. “Isn’t it interesting how fate intervenes in our lives?”

William decided he wasn’t ready to have that conversation.
Fate had not been kind to him of late. He’d already explored why and the answer distressed him hence his service to the bishop. “I’m sorry I reacted badly after you healed me. I didn’t understand. It didn’t make sense to me.”

Those brown eyes met his. “People’s reactions always surprise me. I’m not sure why. You’d think I would expect the worst and that way, I’d never be disappointed.”

He cupped her cheek with his hand, the sadness in her expression pulling at him. “I didn’t mean to disappoint you or hurt you. I was merely...taken aback.”

She said nothing, only continued to look at him with those bottomless brown eyes
. They drew him, tugged and wrenched at him in places deep inside him better left alone. Unwillingly, his gaze dropped to her lips, which parted as he watched.

He d
ipped his head, the lure of her lips proving too much to resist. They were so sweet, just as he’d remembered. Soft. Warm. Moving beneath his.

Hunger, sharp and piercing, and definitely unexpected, shot through him. He deepened the kiss, stepping closer to better taste her.

Her curves pressed against him, making him wish he hadn’t donned his chain mail. Her fingers twined through his hair and sent shivers down his spine.

“Lady Cristiana? Yoo-hoo! Where are you?” Sister Mawde’s shrill voice cut through
the fog in his brain.

Cristiana
jerked back, her expression one of surprise.

He couldn’t help but wonder if she was startled at the nun’s call or at the intensity of their kiss.

A glance around assured him they remained hidden from view. He trailed a finger along her cheek, reluctant to end the moment.

“I had better see what Sister Mawde needs.” Cristiana drew back
until she was out of his reach and then spun away to leave the secluded spot in which they’d stood.

William watched her go, wondering what he’d gotten himself into with this mission.
His promise to deliver the lady grew more complicated each day.

Cristiana was grateful their small party stopped early for the night. The sleep she’d gotten the previous night hadn’t been sufficient to restore her strength. Weariness cloaked her like a heavy blanket, dulling her thoughts and weighting her limbs. Her mind obviously wasn’t functioning or she would’ve pushed away William before he’d kissed her earlier.

S
he sat on a rock as the others prepared the tents, too tired to offer assistance. One of the men-at-arms had sworn he’d spotted a rabbit and left in search of it. The others sent him off with enthusiasm as the dried meat and stale bread they’d eaten each day had lost all appeal.

Sister Mawde found a
n apple tree near the edge of the meadow that still held a few pieces of fruit. She convinced Henry to shake the tree for her so she could gather the apples that fell. Cristiana rose to assist them, but Sister Mawde waved her away. Cristiana wondered if the nun secretly enjoyed Henry’s company for she giggled like a young girl at the knight’s comments.

“Are you well, my lady?” William asked as he
came to stand beside her.

“Aye.
Merely tired.” She kept telling herself she needed to plan her escape, but the notion took more effort than she could muster.

Still, her
tiredness did not keep her cheeks from flushing as William remained next to her. The memory of their kiss sent butterflies dancing in her middle. She clamped her arms over her stomach, hoping to settle them down.

N
ow that she was a mature woman of two and twenty, she hadn’t thought exchanging kisses would be a pulse-pounding experience. Especially with a knight she didn’t even like. She paused to berate herself for not admitting the truth. She did like him. Very much in fact. She admired his determination, his kindness, his sense of honor, and his humor.

But at this moment, he was all that
kept her from what she wanted: freedom.

So how could it be that pressing her lips to his could create
such chaos inside her? Even the memory of their kiss made her mouth go dry, her cheeks heat. It made no sense.

She was saved from
worrying that she’d do something she might regret by the return of the man-at-arms with his prize: three rabbits dangling by their feet.

“We will dine well this night
!” he declared. The broad smile on his face was contagious. Even Sister Mawde clapped in delight.

Soon a fire
was built and the meat was roasting nicely, sending an appetizing aroma into the cool evening air.

“How much longer before we
reach Longsbury?” Cristiana asked William as they sat near the flames.

He reached for a piece of wood to throw on the fire with his left hand but stopped mid-air. With a smile at her and a twinkle in his eyes, he
picked it up with his right hand and easily tossed the wood onto the flames.

“It will take
some time to get used to that.”

She couldn’t help but smile in return. Rarely did she get to see the results of her work. “When did the injury occur?”

“Several months past.”

“Then it will take
a few weeks to regain your strength,” she warned him. While she could heal the damage, she couldn’t aid the loss of muscle that oft accompanied it. Her gift had limitations most of which she’d learned the hard way.

“As for our arrival at
Longsbury, we probably have another two days of travel, depending on how many stops we make.” He glanced at Sister Mawde as he spoke.

Cristiana said nothing. She was in no hurry to reach the bishop’s so she wasn’t about to comment on the nun’s frequent requests
to halt.

The man-at-arms who had caught the rabbit
s had also gathered some ingredients for a soup to go along with it. He’d found ground ivy, leeks, and winter-cress, and added pieces of the dry bread into the pot as well. The idea of having something hot and filling for supper made Cristiana’s stomach grumble.

Henry told a few stories of his tr
avels as they feasted, entertaining the small party. Cristiana had a hard time guessing what she should believe and what she shouldn’t. The large bald man always had a hint of mirth in his blue eyes and it was difficult to tell when he stretched the truth. He’d found a few chestnuts that they roasted in the fire along with the apples. Those finished off their simple meal in fine style.

For a brief time, Cristiana’s worries fell away. She enjoyed the conversation, the presence of William at her side, and a warm meal in her stomach.
Her knee bumped William’s and her gaze caught his, making her realize this was one of those special moments to be cherished and tucked away so she could relive it later.

All too so
on, her exhaustion caught up with her and she could hardly keep her eyes open. Reluctantly, she bid everyone good night and settled beneath the furs with a smile on her lips as she listened to Henry’s next tale. This feeling of contentment was something she hadn’t experienced in a long while. She savored the sensation as she drifted off to sleep.

***

William listened to the soft breathing of the woman beside him, the rhythm confirming she truly slept. He’d debated the need to bind her to him, but as tired as she was, he found it difficult to believe she would attempt escape.

But on the morrow, he’d have to watch her like a hawk.

By then she would’ve recovered and be back to her determined self. He rather looked forward to the challenge, he realized with a smile.

The fire popped outside. A light breeze ruffled the sides of the tent. The sounds of the night gave him comfort. After being locked in that damned dungeon, he appreciated the outdoors much more. Tight spaces now made him uneasy and he avoided them at all costs.
Even the confines of the tent made him restless. Only the opening at the end made it bearable. Barely. That and the lady sleeping at his side.

One of the man-at-arms stood guard with the other set to relieve him. All was secure for
now—as secure as it could be along the road at night.

Yet still he couldn’t sleep.

He turned onto his side so he could watch Cristiana, feeling guilty but unable to resist.

T
he golden glow of the fire cast her face in shadows. Her cheekbones looked higher, her lashes even longer in the wavering light. The slight tip at the end of her nose suited her perfectly. Her hair was braided loosely but still came nearly to her waist. She slept on her side, knees up, her hands tucked under her chin as though to protect herself.

He wondered how her future would unfold. What the coming months would bring
for her. He hoped the pain of losing her mother would ease. Warm thoughts of his own gave him great sympathy for Cristiana’s loss but she needed protection—the bishop was her best choice. Or rather, her only choice.

At last he felt his body relax and let sleep take him.

It seemed he’d rested only a short time when he heard a rustling sound at the back of the tent. Immediately, he awakened, certain Cristiana meant to escape after all.

A glance to his side proved him wrong.

The lady slumbered on.

He held still, trying to determine the source of the noise. Without warning, a blood curdling scream rent the air
above him. The flash of a knife blade coming at his head had William scrambling to his knees, putting himself between the attacker and Cristiana.

He grabbed the man’
s arm, easily halting it and caught his other arm as well. The ragged form before him was small, wrapped in tattered garments. He couldn’t see his face as it was covered, except for eyes. Eyes more frightened than fierce.

“What the hell?”

“Are you all right?” Cristiana asked from behind him.

“Aye.
No thanks to this one,” William said. He dragged the struggling man out of the tent toward the fire so he could see who it was.

“Lady Cristiana! Run!”

Not a man, but a woman, William realized at the sound of the feminine voice.

Cristiana gasped. Instead of doing the attacker’s bidding, she
rushed out of the tent to stare at the woman. “Branwen?”

“Run!” the woman commanded again. She struggled against William, kicking with all her worth. “I will
stop him. Go!”

“Branwen,
cease this madness!” Cristiana demanded.

At once the woman quieted, breathing hard from her frantic attack.
“But, my lady—”

“You know
her?” William asked as he kept a tight hold on her arms.

“Where have you been?” Cristiana drew nearer,
completely ignoring William as she stared at the woman in shock. “We thought you dead.”

Bran
wen’s face crumpled and William released her at last, deciding she could do little harm. He took her knife, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“
’Twas terrible. Demons flew out of the night and attacked us.”

Cristiana drew the
shaking woman into her arms. “Demons?”

“Aye!
Great black-winged beasts on horseback. They carried swords. They came at us out of nowhere. The blood. ’Twas everywhere.” She glanced down at her clothing as though expecting to still see it.

Tears filled
Cristiana’s eyes as she glanced at William. The worry on her face tugged at him. She swallowed hard as she guided Branwen to sit by the fire. “Why didn’t you come back to the manor? Did they take you?”

“The
demons...they left me for dead. I pretended I was until they rode away.”

William
watched the woman closely, still uncertain who she was. Henry stood nearby, watching the scene with interest. The man-at-arms who was supposed to be guarding the camp finally awoke, stumbling to his feet as he realized something had happened.

“Some guard you are,” Sister Mawde berated him from the comfort of her tent.

“Your mother,” the woman continued, tears streaming down her face. “’Twas terrible. They got her first. I couldn’t stop them.”

Cristiana’s lips trembled.
“Of course not.”

Branwen
pointed at William. “Is he one of them? I’m not sure. Tell me if he is and I’ll kill him now.”

“Nay,” Cristiana
said quickly. She looked as confused as William. “He’s not one of them. They aren’t here.”

“Are you sure? My knife is sharp.” The
woman’s lip trembled. “I didn’t have a knife that night. But I do now. ’Tis sharp. I’ve learned to use it well.”

William touched the blade. It
felt as though she’d been cutting tree limbs with it, it was so dull. Yet she didn’t realize she no longer had it in her possession.

Cristiana
seemed overwhelmed by the entire conversation and the woman now sobbing in her arms. William could make little sense of it.

“Cristiana?” He knelt bes
ide her. “Who is she?”

“Our maid.
She was with my mother the night she...when she was...murdered.”

William shared a look with Henry
, trying to get his impression of the situation. Henry shook his head as bewildered as William.

Cristiana drew a shaky breath and
rubbed her hand over the maid’s shoulders. “Branwen, calm yourself. I need you to tell me what happened that night.”

Her request upset the maid further. Her sobbing words
about winged demons made no sense.

Cristiana turned to whisper to William, “If the Branwen I’d known and loved stood next to this person, I’m not certain I would realize the two were the same. She was a sweet girl, eager to please, always neat in appearance and manner.” She shook her head. “I’m terribly sorry that she attacked you.”

“No harm was done,” William reassured her.

Cristiana
patted the woman’s back, hushing her until at last her sobs quieted to hiccups. “How did you find me?”

T
he maid calmed, pulling off her hood as she spoke. “I’ve been following you. I couldn’t get into the convent to free you. There were too many there. The walls were too high. Then the knight took you. Yesterday you traveled so fast, but this night I finally caught up with you.”

“I’m glad you
found me,” Cristiana told her.

Branwen
glanced nervously over her shoulder at William, seemingly unaware that he could hear all she said. “We must leave, my lady,” she whispered. “We must not go home. We must not go to Lonsgsbury. We must hide.”

Cristiana
bit her lower lip. “Branwen, I have to know what happened the night Mother was killed.”

Panic filled the maid’s
wide eyes and her breath came faster and faster as did her words. “The demons. I don’t know. They came at us so quick. I—I—”

With a worried glance at William, Cristiana hushed her.
“’Tis all right. Calm yourself, Branwen. We will speak of it later.”