Arrow To The Heart (De Bron Saga) (9 page)

"Run, Wesley!  Run!"  the girl yelled.

"R...r....run!"  the boy repeated, moving to obey.

"No. Don't. Stay right where you are," Kendrick advised, knowing that any sudden movement would goad the beast into attack.  If it did, it would be certain death for the child, for the tusks of the wild pig were like twin spears . “My lord…..” He looked towards the Prince, certain that even he wouldn't just stand by and watch the boy die, but he was to be disappointed.

"Looks like we won't have to punish that one, eh my Lord," guffawed one of the Prince's men.  Leaning forward he stared upon the scene as if preparing to watch a jousting tournament.

"BiGod,  Sir Griffin, it seems we've been offered a bit of unexpected excitement," John chortled, slapping his thigh with his hand.  Likewise each and every one of the men prepared themselves for the "entertainment".

Except Kendrick.  He knew he had to do something whether John liked it or not.  Unlike the others he could never
watch such a slaughter.  "Boy. Now listen to me.  You have to move, albeit very, very care....."  A whistling sound tore through the air before he had a chance to finish his advice, then before Kendrick could even react, there was another whistling sound. 

"BiGod!  Who.....?" Prince John swore loudly as the boar collapsed into a heap on the ground.  His eyes darted left and right, loo
king for the boy's benefactor. "Someone shot those arrows..."

"
Aye. Me!"

Kendrick's gaze lifted to the branches of a tree. 
Though the face was carefully hidden by a hood he could see the grin on the face that looked down at him. "You!"  Oh, he recognized the little imp all right. 

The archer was just as surprised. “I remember you!”

“You seem fond of lurking in trees.” Well, if the lad had a thimble’s full of sense he would soon get himself gone. Though he had done a noble thing in saving the life of a child, it was still true that the young archer had just killed an animal that was perilously close to the Prince's forest.  "Get you gone and quickly," he hissed. “Or you will find yourself hanging from the end of a rope.”

Alas it was too late.  His were not the only eyes that were turned in the lad's direction.  "After him," John proclaimed.
“After the poacher!”

The air resounded with the thundering sound of hoove
s.   "Stop, in the name of the king!"

Only Kendrick resisted being drawn into the chase.  His attention was focused on the two children
, whom he promptly ordered to flee.  It was an order that was quickly obeyed.  Stumbling to his feet, jumping over the carcass of the bloody animal, the boy named Wesley grasped the girl by the hand and took to his heels.  Meanwhile the young archer purposefully kept the Prince's men occupied with a game of chase.

"For the love of Becket, can't anyone catch him?"  Prince John put heel to his horse's flanks with thought in mind of his own pursuit of the culprit
, but he too was unsuccessful.  Laughter bubbled forth from the archer's throat all the while.

This time Kendrick wasn't angry.  Nuisance or not he admired the lad.  Surely he had been on target with his bow. 
Moreover he had shown a courage that was surprising in one so young.

“De Bron!”

“Aye, my lord.”

John’s voice was a shriek. “He is on your land, albeit he is your poacher. It is up to you to catch him.”

“Catch him?” Ah yes, Kendrick wanted very much to do that, but no, he would not turn the boy into John. Instead he would handle the young archer himself . Even so, he had to make a worthy effort at pursuit while John sat astride his horse watching.

In the tense moment that followed her daring rescue of the two Saxon children, Rowena thought of nothing but escape. Though there were a few harrowing moments, however, she outdistanced, out-maneuvered and outwitted her pursuer. Still, she knew that she would not really be safe until she reached the thick wooden doors of Grantham Manor. With that comforting thought in mind, she plunged directly into the thick leafy undergrowth.

Moving quickly, jumping over logs, ducking branches, swinging from limb to limb she was lithe, swift, skilled and g
raceful. At last panting to catch her breath, she paused to look behind her.

“I’ve lost him!” She was surprised that her dark-haired adversary had so easily given up the chase, yet smug with the satisfaction of knowing that he would no doubt be in line for retribution. John hated defeat.

Chuckling as she made her way back to her father’s house, she conjured up the overbold swain’s moment of humiliation. John would yell, he would scold. He would take the haughty lord down more than just a peg. It would be a miserable ride back to John’s castle. Well, he deserved it.

Stealthi
ly  keeping to the shadows as she headed for the manor stable, Rowena tried to convince herself that she should be glad that she was well rid of the dark-haired lord who had accosted her in the castle. He was cold-hearted, a brute.

“And yet…” Had she imagined it or had there really been a look of concern on his face when those two Saxon chil
dren had been in peril? Was it possible that a follower of John’s could have even a whit of empathy?

The stable was cool, pleasant at this particular hour. Hurriedly stripping off her archer’s garments and hiding them beneath a pile of hay, then donning her “lady’s” attire, she pondered the matter.

Suddenly one of  the horses snuffled at the air and pricked up his ears, alert.

“What  is it , Joust?” Instantly she was on guard, but not quickly enough to escape the hand that roughly grasped her by the shoulder.

“Well, well, well……”

Slowly she turned around, stunned to find herself face to face with the very man she had assumed would be out of her hair for well and for good. Her body taut as a bowstring, her senses tingling, she nevertheless fought against her surprise as she demanded, “Unhand me!”

“BiGod!” Slowly he trailed his fingers over her shoulder and down her arm, his touch melting through her flesh. Then he let her go.

There was a lon
g moment of immobility as they stood frozen, silent, like figurs woven on a tapestry. And all the while a knot squeezed in the pit of Rowena’s stomach. Had she been followed after all? Had he seen her?

“What are y-y-you doing here?” Was the tremor in her voice noticeable?

“I might ask you the same thing.”  He shot back, mellowing her concern. And all the while he stared. She was a pretty sight with her hair flying all about her face and shoulders, her clothing all askew, beads of perspiration dotting her forehead. He had forgotten just how pretty.

“I  live here!” So, he hadn’t any idea of her earlier escapade .She felt relieved.

He smiled, genuinely pleased by that bit of information. “Well then, I can only say that it is a small world.” Wrapping his fingers in her hair, he took a step forward..

“Too small!” Rowena jumped back so quickly that she caused him to pull her hair. She winced but didn’t cry out.

“I would say delightfully small.” He laughed, a deep throaty sound that made her feel foolishly giddy. He reached out and took her hand, rubbing his thumb over her fingers. “I didn’t think I would see you again.”

She stared into his eyes, mesmerized by the shiver that rippled through her, a feeling that was strangely similar to the surge of excitement she had felt earlier in the forest when she had toyed with  danger.

“But I am ever so pleased that I  have.” He stroked her hair, then gently cupped her chin in his hand. Raising her reluctant face to his he moved forward, intending to kiss her.

“Nay!” Remembering the other time, Rowena pulled violently away. “I am no kitchen maid whose favors are yours for the taking.”

“Nor did I think you to be.” Kendrick likewise remembered their previous encounter. “If I offended you at the castle then I sincerely apologize.” Grabbing both her wrists he made certain she would not punch him this time then, he smothered any further conversation with his lips.

Rowena made a murmuring sound of protest, then answered the pressure of his mouth. In truth she couldn’t have spoken even if she had wanted to. His mouth was gentle, strangely so.   Rowena felt her heart race, then she feared it had stopped beating at all. She was breathless. Her mind was numb.  Something was happening, something over which she had no control. Something frightening.

Kendrick felt her tremble. This time it was he who moved away. “Well, so much for neighborly introductions,” he breathed.

“Neighborly?” She didn’t understand, at least not at first. Slowly, however, it began to dawn on her consciousness. “Neighbor. You?”

He nodded enthusiastically, elated by the thought of such good fortune. His land restored and the lovely woman  of his dreams living right next door. What more could a man ask for? “I’m the new resident lord of Melburn Manor,” he said proudly.

“Melburn?”

“The property to your north side,” he defined, just in case she didn’t know.

She pointed.” There.” Her anger surged all the way from her head to her toes. She should have guessed, should have known.

“Aye!”

Her eyes glittered with fire, yet at the same time they were so cold that he felt a chill. “So….”

Painfully Rowena closed her eyes, envisioning Gwyneth’s mournful face, Ethelred’s motionless body, and the mess that had been made of the cottage. In that moment she was certain that she truly hated the man standing beside her.

“Then
‘tis you who are so cruel.”

“Cruel?”

She didn’t bother explaining, instead she merely wiped off his kiss with the back of her hand.

Roderick winced at the vehemence of her action but ignored the gesture. “I came today to make introductions.” It was a half  truth.  Having had no luck in finding the young archer , he had decided that the best plan of action was in befriending his neighbors.  Perhaps then he could enlist the
ir aid in finding the young rogue. 

“And well you did! If
‘introductions’  is what you call your overbold display…” Again she brushed at her mouth with her hand. “Now, get you gone!”

“Go?” He fought to somehow salvage his wounded pride. “Without giving my proper regards to your father?”

“Aye.” Never had Rowena longed so for the blessed clout of a bow. How quickly then would he have scurried off! “For he has less tolerance for men such as you than I.”

“Men such as me?” Now it was Kendrick’s turn to be angry.

Rowena was not in the mood for a serious confrontation. Not now. She was anxious to get away. “Forsooth, you would not understand.” He was a Norman, the so-called favored inhabitants of the land. He would never know what it was like to be part Saxon and part Norman, nor what it was like to have constant warfare going on inside your head. Unceremoniously she pushed past him moving towards the stable door.

“Wait” He was irritated and at the same time intrigued.  “Come  back!”

“Never!” With a toss of her hair she was gone.

Kendrick spoke to the door. “Run away then, but I will be back.” Sooner than she might suppose.

Chapter Nine

It has proven to be a relatively mild winter with rain but little snow, the kind of weather that would have made it relatively easy for Kendrick de Bron to get his home in order had there been enough men on the manor to do the work. Alas, there were not. Although there were several dwellings that looked as if they had been lived in not long ago, there were only three men and their families here now. Those families left exhibited a mistrust that could be felt even from a distance.

“Something frightened the others off, but what?” Kendrick would have given a barrel full of coins to know.

“Ghosts?” Tramping through the ankle-deep mud, Humbley paused to look over his shoulder.

“Nay!”
Chad had never been a superstitious soul. “I would say that whatever chased them away was  a being of flesh and blood.”

“You mean John?” Kendrick was more than a bit suspicious.

“Or his behavior,” Chadwick insisted.

“Well, whatever it was it means that those of us left will have to do at least twice as much work.” Kendrick hadn’t come this far to let all of his dreams fall to ruin.

Picking up a carpenter’s adze, Kendrick moved towards the manor house. Chadwick and Humbley followed, carrying hammers, a grimlet to make small holes n the wood, and a sack full of wooden pegs and nails. Together they made much needed repairs to the timer-framed manor house. Next the thatched roof was patched so that it would be weather-tight. As soon as that had been accomplished they picked up shovels to dig deep ditches around the garden to keep the animals out. Kendrick intended to make improvements such as widening the stream, making a fish pond, constructing a bridge and other structural changes to the manor house once that was done.

“Work, work  work!”  Wiping his sweat-beaded brow, Humbley made no secret of his dismay.

All along the way to Kendrick’s restored lands, Humbley and Chadwick had tried to envision what their new  manor would be like, deciding in unison that it would certainly be more elegant than their living quarters in France. After all, they couldn’t imagine their lord de Bron in any setting which was not in keeping with his fondness for finery.