A Widow Plagued (10 page)

Gavin did not await her compliance, but turned to follow the trail of broken twigs and branches towards his daughter's abductor. He would gut the man who did this, if he so much as harmed a hair on her precious head!

~

Despite her slight frame, two hours of hoisting Lady Hannah left Sir David's legs shaky from fatigue. A lack of proper food and water for the last two days was taking its toll. Luckily, the rain had started up an hour hence. The heavy deluge would serve to cover most of his tracks. He had been careful to walk on fallen leaves and avoid brushing up against branches as much as possible.

His brothers' cruel tracking games had taught him much about covering his trail. A steep, rocky slope rose into what looked like a tiny, trickling waterfall. If his luck held, there might be a crevice or a cave they could hide in tonight. It was early fall, and they were both soaked to the core. He would have to find some place away from the elements, if they were to not die from exposure.

On the back side of the cliff face, behind the waterfall, David lugged Hannah. Pushing thick ivy from the rock face, David grinned to find a two-foot crevice. Drawing his dagger against any possible creatures he might find inside, David stepped sideways into the space. He was forced to set Hannah down before him. He did not trust her not to run.

“Careful,” he warned. “I need to clear the cave of whatever might live here, so don't try anything that might get us both killed.”
Hannah shivered and obeyed. Walking slowly before David, Hannah prayed she would not walk headfirst into a wolf or badger. This cave was much too cosy to be unoccupied. About twelve feet in, the space widened out to form a six foot by eight foot space. David had to duck to enter, but Hannah could stand straight.

Besides some old, dried out rodent bones and droppings, the space was empty. Hannah gave thanks that a narrow crack in the rocky ceiling let in a weak shaft of light. Yet, being able to see was of little comfort, if the fissure caused the cave to crumble in on them where they stood.

David smiled at his good fortune. He need only retrace his steps and cover their trail up the hill, and he should be able to keep Hannah hidden over night. “Stay here. I will return shortly.”

Hannah shivered at the man who held a dagger in her direction. Despite the scar that marred his left cheek, he was young; she could tell that by the sparseness of the stubble upon his chin. He was also a man of some wealth. His leather boots were finely crafted and ran up to his knees. His tunic was familiar, and she had a sneaking suspicion he was one of Lord Polk's knights.

She said nothing and nodded. If she were to get the chance to run, she would, but she was not so stupid as to say such to the likes of him.

~

“My lord, the trail has run cold. The light grows dim. We are best off setting up camp for the night, and starting out again on the morrow. A man could break his leg out here at dusk.”

Gavin's gut clenched. How could he leave Hannah overnight in the clutches of some mercenary? He thought back to the conversation he'd had with Mortichai, and his mind cautioned him to be patient.

“Turns out that the three men ye captured were all Lord Polk's sons. One escaped just a day away from Lakeshore Manor. We discovered fer ourselves the identity of the three men, when we handed them over to Lord Polk. He was disgusted with his sons and told me I could keep them outside the gates.

“I persuaded the man to deal with his sons, as the safety of the Lady Hannah was at stake. He laughed and said if his youngest son had escaped, he knew him well enough to know he never failed what he set out to accomplish, and that he'd have the Lady Hannah in his clutches, if just to prove his own wit and skill.

“I thanked Lord Polk for his sound reasoning and excused myself back onto the trail. We did avail ourselves of his hospitality for the one night, though, My Lord; t'would have been most rude to deny him.”

Gavin had thanked Mortichai, and headed out to reinforce the sentries along the embankment. He wanted to take no chances, now, with Hannah's safety. Twas then that Sara had sounded the alarm. Yet again, he had been too late to take the precautions he should have made at the onset.

Now, Hannah was paying the price.

~

It took mere moments for David to erase every trace of their trek up the hill. Yet, he wanted to insure the safety of their location by erasing all hints for the last mile. If he were quiet, he might snare a hare with his dagger, as well. Lucky for David, Sir Gavin's men had not searched his boots. Inside, he kept a dagger and some coin, for just such an eventuality as this.

Mayhap he could bribe the local priest into marrying him to Hannah. Then, Sir Gavin would be forced to deal with him as a peer and not the younger sibling of his true rival. Wiping away an errant footprint, David's heart flopped in his chest. He was not really prepared to become a husband, was he? He had only just earned his knighthood a fortnight hence.

He had no property, no funds, other than the few coins he kept in his boot. Only peers of the realm could afford to marry at his young age. Yet, marriage was the best, and fastest route to establishing one's wealth. He could be brave and do the deed, if it meant gaining his father's acceptance. And what of the king's?

Would King Edward take offense to his absconding with the pawn in his latest game of chess? If what he'd heard of the King held true, than his majesty would enjoy the farce. It fell right into his plans, quite nicely, packaging up the little area of England with a bond between the two families. Thus joined through matrimony, the lineage of heirs could withstand a few more plague-related deaths.

Twas the world they lived in that forced Sir David to think along such dark lines. The lesser nobility were nothing but place holders to help maintain the king's lands and power. As long as his actions supported this end, he was likely safe from King Edward and his men.

Now, getting Hannah to agree to his plan remained the next item on his agenda. Sir David had very little experience with women. The camp followers that he had been lucky enough to bed had been older, experienced women. There was no need to court or romance them. Hannah was a sheltered young lady. He had no idea how to speak with her, much less convince her to conspire with him.

She seemed timid as a doe. Sir David smiled, thinking about how her soft rounded bottom had felt against his cheek as he'd lugged her about today. She was a sweet, soft, angelic lady. She smelled of lilacs and sunshine, and he dared, for the first time in his young life, to dream of possessing something so beautiful and precious for his very own.

It had been twenty minutes since leaving the cave. He had to return, or risk her escape. Sighing at his grumbling stomach, David edged his way back, careful to step only on leaf litter as he went.

A snuffle made his hackles rise. David dashed up the pebbled path in time to see a tusked swine push its way past the ivy-covered opening.

Without hesitation, David leaped up the slope and through the crevice. Just as the boar lowered his head to charge the cowering Hannah, David pounced. Crushing the pig with his weight, he sank the dagger into its spine and twisted.

The swine gave out a horrific scream, then lie lifeless and bleeding beneath Sir David.

A soft, hiccuping stillness followed.

Hannah struggled to make sense of what had just happened. Had her captor risked his own life to save hers? He had not moved from the pig. Was he injured?

Rising shakily to her feet, she stepped past his body and towards the cave's exit. Held by some invisible hand, she paused and turned around. The light had faded and lightening lit the sky. Was she really safer out there, from whence the pig had come? Could she, in good conscience, leave this young man to die, after saving her life?

She'd stay for the moment, she decided, turning resolutely to help Lord Polk's knight. Then, she would await the first opportunity to make her way back home.

~

Sir David's gaze blurred then came into focus as a sharp pain sliced through his right side.

“God's teeth, tis but a scratch,” Hannah tittered nervously, as she examined the naked expanse of David's rib cage.

It had been quite a feat to roll his large, unconscious form over and pull his blood-stained tunic and shirt from his form. Placing them gingerly beneath his head, Hannah released a nervous chuckle of relief.

Must be the blow to the head he'd received when the pig reared back that had knocked her assailant unconscious. The gash to his ribs was superficial. The blood was already beginning to congeal and slow its run down the side of his body. Twas the iron-rich smell of blood in this cave that Hannah now feared the most.

Other predators were likely to smell the aroma and come to see about an easy meal. She must do something to stave off another attack. The woods about them were wet. She had no flint with which to start a fire. There was no material large enough to block the entrance, that she was strong enough to move. What could she do?

The man at her feet groaned and looked up at Hannah groggily.

“Fire. We need a fire.”

“Of course we need a fire,” she snapped uncharacteristically. “We won't last till dawn in this blood bath without it. What do ye expect me to do? Whip one up out of thin air?”

David grinned despite his pounding head. This little doe-eyed innocent had quite a vixen's tongue when provoked. He liked it.

“I stayed in this cave once before, with my father's soldiers. We stashed some kindling and logs back in the crevice.” He waved towards the dark side of the cave, and Hannah shivered. She did not wish to stick her hand down some snake-infested shaft.

“And how do ye propose we start it?” she scoffed, hiding her fear.

“I've flint in my boot,” he groaned, rolling over on his injured ribs to offer her the side of his boot.

There, she saw a small flap. Untying it, she was able to dig out two pieces of flint. Sighing, she thanked God for their good fortune and resolutely faced the dark crevice at the back of the cave. Finding an errant stick beneath an old mouse skeleton, Hannah poked about the darkened crack in an effort to scare off anything with teeth.

Slowly, she placed her hand in the space and grasped what felt like a bundle of sticks. Pulling it out, she again sured up her courage and reached in for wood. She felt a large wedge and yanked.

“Aaaaah!” she screamed, as a field mouse scurried across her foot. Dropping the wood, she hopped up and down, shaking out her skirts vigorously.

Pushing himself up into a seating position, David groaned and rolled upon his knee as if to stand.

“I can do this!” Hannah insisted, holding out her hand and eyeing David with the clear message that he was to sit back down.

Once more, Hannah kneeled and pulled out the two remaining logs.

Moving to the center of the cave, Hannah quirked her brow, and looked back at David. “There is no evidence of a fire here.”

“We dared not risk a fire on our approach,” David explained.

Hannah shivered, reminded of her first abduction, and then again of David's second, successful attempt.

She must not lose sight of the fact that this man had captured her with the intent of turning her over to the foul villain, John Polk. She would make this fire and stay safe for tonight, but before first light, she'd be gone.

Kneeling down to her task, Hannah took little time to coax the kindling into a roaring flame.

Sir David was impressed by the gentlewoman's skill. He had known very few ladies, but his mother and aunt were surely never expected to light their own fires or care for their own hearth. Lady Hannah was much stronger than the frail bird she appeared.

“Thou art Lady Hannah?” he asked, uncertain.

Hannah shrugged, “If thou sayest I am.”

Alarm bells gonged through Sir David's addled brain. Had he abducted a mere companion and not the late Lord Sander's daughter? Had this venture all been for naught?

Na
y
, he reasoned. This was Lady Hannah. Her velvet gown, the slope of her shoulders, the color of her hair, the shape of her nose, all mimicked that of the late Lord Sanders. She was his daughter, even if she would not own up to it.

Smiling ruefully, he rested his pounding head against the pillow of his tunic. “Well, then,” he chuckled. “If thou art no lady, I suppose I need not worry about protecting thy innocent maidenhood.”

Snaking a hand out, David grabbed the back of Hannah's gown and pulled. Unbalanced from her crouched position at the fire, Hannah fell hard against David's bare chest with an, “oomph!”

Grasping her about her arms, he pressed her closely to his torso and whispered in her ear as she struggled. “I can keep ye for myself, then, I suppose, my little vixen. No need to save ye fer the likes of Sir John, after all.”

Hannah gasped, uncertain as to what the man referred, but very certain he meant to do her harm.

With a swift twist, Sir David had straddled Hannah beneath him and looked down upon her, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“What should we do first, my doe-eyed vixen?”

David ran the back of his hand along Hannah's cheek and down the 'v' of her gown.