Arrow To The Heart (De Bron Saga) (24 page)

"Robin!  Robin!  You must hear this," he was sputtering.  Excitedly he told of what he had heard in the village, that Kendrick de Bron had abducted the Lady Rowena Fitz Hugh out from under the nose of her own servants.  "They are crying out for his head."

"Abducted the Lady Rowena. Absurd,"  Kendrick fumed.  "It is but an excuse to have my head.  Why, the Lady is right--"

Rowena silenced him with a kick to the
shin.  Now wasn't the time for a confession, were he contemplating one.  "Come, de Bron, escort me to my horse," she commanded in a high falsetto voice amidst loud chuckles from the outlaws.

"Perhaps Arrow does have promise after all," Little John exclaimed, gently tweaking Rowena's nose.  "At least he sounds like a woman when giving orders."   

"Aye, perhaps you do have promise,"  Kendrick whispered in her ear as he walked beside her.  

With a laugh "Arrow" was pushed forward, surrounded by the merry band, then led to a horse. The band of outlaws set out from the forest, some disguised as a townsmen, tinkers, tailors, carpenters, butchers, and even a farmer or two.  Rowena was at the head, riding on a gray mare.  She had escaped detection this time, but would she again?  It was a troubling thought as the small band left the security of the forest.

It was bothersome riding in skirts but Rowena made the best of it, determined to follow Robin’s orders to the last detail even if it killed her. To earn his respect and trust was of the utmost importance. She had to prove herself. Then and only then could she hope that he and the others would help her rescue her father.

The plan was a simple one. She was to stand beside the road holding the reins of her horse, pretending her horse had gone lame. It was well known that the prince was fond of female company. He would, of course, stop to offer assistance to a woman in need. Those of the band who were in disguise would be scattered, looking like harmless travelers upon the road. Others would be hidden behind the trees, fully armed and ready to spring out at the hapless prince and his entourage. Robin had learned from reliable sources at the prince’s own castle that John would have with him several sacks of gold, money collected from the landowners. Supposedly, the money was to go to the archbishop for the ransom of Richard. Robin intended to make certain that indeed it would go for that cause.

“Above all, hold
your temper,” Rowena warned herself. She tried but the taunts she suffered from some of the bolder outlaws nearly unleashed the full measure of her anger.

“Oh, fair lady….” Playfully one of the merrymen waved at her.

“May I pledge thee my troth?” called out another.

“I think I love you….” Yet another cried out, even going so far as to blow her a kiss.

“Go to the devil,” she shot back.

Daring to be a bit reckless, she urged the mare on to a faster and faster pace, soon leaving the others behind. Make fun of her, would they? She would soon show them. A mischievous gleam sparkled in her blue eyes and a smile was etched on her full mouth as she loosened her hand on the reins, giving the gray mare free rein. She raced like the wind, reveling in the sheer pleasure of the wild, mad ride.

“BiGod, she’ll get herself killed,” Kendrick swore beneath his breath as she burst from the forest. With another grumbled oath, he dug his heels into his stallion’s side and darted after her. Ego demanded that he catch up with her. It goaded him into closing the distance between them.

Rowena wasn’t conscious of anything but the enjoyment of the ride, but the instant the strong hand made a grab for her horse’s reins she was aler
ted that she was no longer alone. “Let me be,” she demanded hotly, but one look at the intruder softened her mood to laughter. “De Bron?”

He had mimicked the disguise she had worn at the archery tournament, dressing as a beggar with a patch over one eye. “Aye.” Wisps of white bird feathers stuck out from beneath an old hat so that he looked like an old man.

“You look silly.”

She, on the  other hand, made a charming picture, he thought as he took in the enchanting face framed by the wimple and veil. Hers were the most beautiful eyes he had ever beheld. And her mouth….It challenged a man to taste its sweetness. He wanted to tell her that, but instead he simply said, “You look pretty, no matter what the others say.”

“Pretty?” She made a face. “I don’t want to be, for ‘tis bothersome.”

Seeing that her wimple was askew he reached out and straightened it. “You are bothersome, Rowena. Lord, do you have any idea how much you tempt me?”

She pulled away. “I don’t intend to.” Then she smiled. “But what are you saying, de Bron, that you secretly lust after—“

“A fiery chit of a woman who thinks it a lark to masquerade as a man. Yes.” Once again he looked into her glorious eyes. “I can be patient, Rowena. You will soon come to your senses.”

“Come to my senses?” Somehow she managed to suppress the urge to slap his face. “And then do what? Marry you and content myself with womanly chores?”

“Aye,” he answered, being fooled for just a moment into hopefulness.

“Never!”

Compulsively his hand tightened on her shoulder. “Never is a long, long time.” He regarded her questioningly, then with an exasperated sigh bent his head down to align with hers. Fiercely he kissed her, as if by doing so he could change her mind.

The touch of his warm, hard mouth engulfed Rowena in a maelstrom of intoxicating, well-remembered sensations. Ah, but it was sweet to have his lips touch hers, even briefly. Too briefly.

“I love you, Rowena Fitz Hugh. When is that going to be enough to satisfy you?” Oh, how he wanted to sweep her off that horse and carry her away, but that he would never do. The choice had to be hers. “Well?”

She hadn’t the time to answer. As the others caught up, the warning of “He comes!” alerted all that the prince’s caravan was in view.

“Hurry, Arrow,” Little John called out in a high-pitched voice. His voice, like his person, was disguised as a woman. A heavy veil hid his beard from sight, his arrows were concealed beneath the heavy folds of his skirt, his bow beneath a heavy cloak.

Sliding down from the gray mare, Rowena quickly affected the mannerisms of a helpless woman. “I’m ready.” She turned her eyes in the direction of the prince’s caravan. John, dressed in a bright blue tunic embroidered with pearls and threads of gold, sat astride a fine black stallion. His hose were of white, a startling contrast to the darkness of the animal beneath him. Belted to the prince’s waist was a large purse.

Pulling the veil across her face in an effort to hide her eyes from the prince’s sight lest he recognize her and take his wrath out upon her father, Rowena purposefully stepped out on the road, blocking his way.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” John exclaimed upon seeing the lovely vision before him. He swung his legs from the horse to dismount, but one of his retainers put out a hand to stop him.

“Nay. We cannot stop here.
Sherwood Forest is only a mile down the road and it is there that the outlaw Robin Hood lurks.”

Ignoring his guards words, Prince John slid down from the stallion. “I do not fear that loathsome cur,” he said. “Besides, it bids me ill to see a fair damsel in distress.” Coming upon Rowena he reached for her hand. “What misfortune has befallen you?”

In an attitude of coy shyness, Rowena answered, “My horse has gone lame, sire.” His hand was cold and clammy and she suffered a twinge of revulsion as he kissed her fingers one by one.

“Lame. What a pity.” His manner seemed to say that he was anything but sorry. “But an opportunity for you to ride with us. We travel to
Nottingham.”

“Then I will likewise go and thank you from the bottom of my heart for rescuing me in time of need,” Rowena said with sugary sweetness, nearly choking on the words. The cad. It was likely more than one young woman had been caught by his pretense of being a gentleman.

Cautiously Rowena measured the odds here. There were nearly thirty men with the prince and only fifteen or so of the outlaw band. The odds were two to one. Could they hope to be victorious over the prince? Yes. Somehow she knew that they would. Wits would win out over brawn any day. As to John, she wanted him all to herself. He had a sword, but she could unarm him and thus even the odds at least by one man.

“We will ride together, you and I, “ John was saying as he enfolded
her small waist in his left arm and drew her with him towards his horse. “Will that not be delightful, my sweet?”

“Delightful.” From the corner of her eye Rowena could see the forms of the outlaw band, disguised in their colorful clothing,
creep nearer and nearer. Pretending to be little more than villagers, they grinned when the men-at-arms ignored their presence. Meanwhile those garbed in their Lincoln green were stealth fully crawling about on hands and knees.

“What is it?” Suddenly John seemed to hear a sound.

“The wind,” Rowena answered. Knowing she had to distract him she fought her dislike for him as she leaned against him. “Imagine, being escorted to Nottingham by the prince himself. It is enough to make a lady swoon.” She made as if to fall and felt the prince gather her close against his chest.

Little John tugged at his ear. The signal!

It was as if everything moved in slow motion. Rowena reached out as if to put her arms around John but her nimble fingers had found his scabbard instead. He was stripped of his sword as easily as a baby is of its playthings.

“By God’s teeth!” he exclaimed, stepping towards her as if to strike out.

Poising, the sword in her hand, Rowena thrust out with the weapon. “Take not a step further if you value your life. Prince or no prince, I will unman you,” she threatened.

“You wouldn’t” Though his tone of voice was confident, the fear in his eyes clearly told her that he wondered.

“I would.”

The clash of sword upon sword, the whistle of arrows in the air, the sound of grunts and groans, sounded a tune by the roadway. Here and there a serf
had stopped working and watched in wonder at the sight of the fighting men.

“’T is Robin! ‘T is Robin Hood!” they shouted, taking note of the men in green.

Kendrick wielded his sword with all his knightly prowess, proving that at last his wounds were healed. He ran through one man in front of him, wounding that one in the arm, then turned quickly to the man at his back. He recognized him in an instant. “Hugo. You bastard.” It was the servant who had betrayed him.

“Bastard? That is a name for you and not I,” came the reply.

“Then traitor is what I will call you.” For just a moment Kendrick stood still as though he couldn’t move. “Why, Hugo?” Kendrick didn’t see the swordsman creeping up behind him.

Rowena did. “Kendrick! Kendrick!” It was as if her heart stopped beating in that moment. She
watched as the swordsman aimed a blow to Kendrick’s head.

Kendrick could perceive the sound of the sword whistling through the air and ducked just in time to avoid his beheading. The sound of splintering wood told him that the blade had found a tree trunk instead of his neck and for that he whispered a prayer to God. But Hugo was still to be reckoned with. With a growl of anger he threw himself against Kendrick, charging like a mad man. He was joined by another swordsman, then another.

“De Bron….” Pushing the prince into Robin’s able hands so that he could divest John of his purse, Rowena ran to Kendrick’s side. She couldn’t let him be killed. He meant too much to her.

“Get back!” Kendrick was horrified to see her joining the melee.

“You need some help.” Stubbornly she stayed put, swinging the prince’s sword as she joined the furious battle that tested strength and skill.

Rowena had little experience with blades, but she made a good show
of thrusting and parrying. Reacting to the warning of her senses, she swung her sword arm forward again and again, turning the odds in Kendrick’s favor. At last with a strong thrust she knocked her enemy’s sword to the ground.

“Good show, Arrow.” Someone was cheering her on from the sidelines.

Then, it was over as quickly as it had begun. A horn blast from Little John signaled the end of the fighting. Prisoners were gathered up and stripped of all that was of value.

“We will meet again, John,” Robin Hood said with mock politeness, going so far as to bow. “Thank you for your contribution to our coffers. I’m certain your brother will thank you as well.”

“You dog! I will see your head put on a pike to decorate London bridge!” The prince watched as the weapons of his men and other valuables were loaded on an old cart.

“”We have need of these,” Robin said. The cart was harnessed by John’s own stallion.

“Ah, you are a horse thief as well.”

“It is a fine animal,” Kendrick responded.

“You.” Only then did John notice that he was among the outlaws. “Your head will reside next to your leader’s upon my bridge.”

Kendrick wasn’t upset by the warning. “I don’t think so. I’ve survived your treachery once and will do so again. But if you are wise you will look to your own head. Richard will return and when he does it will be your head on the scaffold.”