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A Knight to Remember

Page 111

by Christina Dodd

“What wench, master?” Wharton asked.

They hadn’t even heard her. “That woman,” Hugh said. “The one who’s screeching.”

“Oh,” Wharton said stupidly. “Her.”

“Would you have me see, my lord?” Dewey asked.

“Nay.” Hugh turned his horse and headed in the direction of the noise. “I have to do it myself.”

Caution urged him to reconnoiter the situation, but he didn’t have time and he didn’t have the patience. The hut stood close to the road in a protected glade, and as he burst out of the trees, he took in the situation at once. Two armed knights and their squires, no doubt mercenaries who had served in the battle, held a woman to the ground and prepared to rape her. Worse, another knight held a whimpering girl-child and prepared to do the same. The woman’s screams weren’t for herself; she was straining, trying to get to her child to rescue her.

“A pox on you!” Hugh cursed them as he drew his sword and urged his destrier forward to do justice. The knight with the child, caught with his breeks around his ankles, could do no more than try to waddle toward his weapons as he saw a large, clearly infuriated knight on his charger bearing down on him.

Hugh removed the knave’s head with one swing of his sword. The others he hacked where they stood and crawled. His men, astonished by his sudden attack, hurried to join in but could do no more than finish the task Hugh had so ably started.

Then he galloped away, pursued by the mother’s cried thanks and his once again startled men. Hooves pounded behind him. Roxford Castle remained leagues ahead. And time, like an impenetrable fog, tightened its grip around him. He wanted to be at Roxford now. If all went well, he wouldn’t be there for two more days.

So he prayed. “Please, God. I rescued that woman and her child. I’ll give an endowment to Eastbury Abbey. I’ll do anything! Just smite my enemies and keep Edlyn safe.”

At that moment, there was a great roar. Men shrieked their dismay.

Edlyn heard the cry, “Their tunnel is collapsing!”

It was true. Great stones tumbled to the ground. Gravel and fill from the inside of the wall showered on Pembridge’s astonished men, obliterating them in a billow of dust.

The wall above cracked from top to bottom as the foundation that held it weakened. Then it settled. All slipped into silence.

All except Pembridge’s screaming injured as they futilely struggled to free themselves from the tons of stone.

The people of Roxford gave a ragged cheer. Burdett assessed the situation, then ran up the stairs where his mistress still stood on the wall walk. Edlyn cast a triumphant glance at Sir Lyndon.

“Do you think it’s over already, you silly woman?”

The way he said the word “woman” was the worst insult he could cast at her. He was false clear to the bone, she realized. All his previous protestations of devotion had been nothing but a wind to bring Hugh back to his side. He hated her. He hated Hugh’s marriage. He hated the changes it had wrought, and now that Hugh had gone, he saw no reason to conceal that hatred.

He was a dangerous man.

She pretended not to notice, pretended to be as stupid as he thought her. “It’s not over, but it’s given us a moment to regroup.”

Apparently he perceived her courtesy as weakness, for he stepped close enough to loom over her and said, “If Hugh were here, he would order you to put me in charge!”

“I do not presume to know my husband’s mind, but if he were here, Pembridge would not be within the castle walls at all.”

It was a reproach, and Sir Lyndon’s eyes narrowed as he considered her.

Then her son, her Allyn, piped up, “Aye, he would have kept them out, not let them in.”

Sir Lyndon stepped back so swiftly Edlyn feared he might tumble off the edge of the wall walk. “I didn’t let them in.”

“No one said—” Edlyn began.

“Someone did,” Allyn said.

Parkin chimed in. “We saw him.”

Grims bore down on the lads with purpose. “Did you see his face?”

They shook their heads, but their young faces didn’t hide their suspicions. Grims looked at Sir Lyndon in open speculation while the knight glared at her sons with a malevolence that chilled Edlyn. She tried to defuse the situation and sound firm at the same time. “Fight on, Sir Lyndon, but I leave Grims in charge of his men. He knows them, and the castle, better than you.”