B00CGOH3US EBOK (29 page)

"Looks like it's going to be the same old, same old for dinner tonight—unless you've been holding out on me and you have an extra-large pepperoni pizza stashed in your supplies."

Puzzled, the boy scratched his head. "Nay, my lady. Other than a round of cheese, we have naught else but what you have there."

"Happy joy. Hockey puck biscuits and Slim Jims for dinner…again."

"'Twould be my pleasure to bring fresh game to my lady's table." Jill turned to find Roderick hovering over her. He nodded at the pitiful excuse for a picnic she'd laid out on the edge of a blanket. "The ground though that table may be."

"Really?" Her mouth watered at the thought of roast duck or a thick, juicy steak. Wait, did they hunt cows in the thirteenth century?

"Aye. And mushrooms grow aplenty this time of year. Perhaps you could gather what the forest creatures have not yet found while I hunt?"

"Sounds like a plan, although I have no clue what's a good mushroom and what's not." Jill stood and dusted her hands off on her skirt. "With my luck, I might poison us all."

"Fear not. I am certain Sir Baelin is familiar with them. He can help you to gather them."

Jill sensed Baelin standing behind her even before she heard his deep growl.

"That will not be possible for it shall be I who hunts fresh game for my lady. She is mine—my responsibility, and I shall be the one to provide for her."

She turned a raised brow at his inadvertent slip of the tongue.
Mine
. Her stomach did an odd little flip at the possessive tone in his voice. She wondered if Roderick noticed it too.

The knight glanced at the meager offerings on the blanket. "Aye, as I can see you have done so well in the past." He smiled at Baelin, an unspoken challenge reflected in his brilliant blue eyes. "But what does it matter who provides fresh game for my lady, so long as she has it?"

Oh, Roderick had noticed all right. Let another pissing contest begin.

She put her hand to Baelin's chest to stop him as he made to step around her and go nose to nose with Roderick. It was a given if they got that close, one of them would come away with a bloody one. Considering Baelin's dragon blood could do more damage than his fists, that wasn't such a good idea.

"Hold on guys. There's no need to go hunting. I'm sure what we have here will be fine."

Her stomach protested her words with a loud rumble that could probably be heard all the way to London.

Owen stepped up, his wary glance ping-ponging between the two men and their latest game of medieval standoff. "Mayhap I could help Lady Jill with the gathering while both of you hunt. That way, if either of you are successful, we will have fresh meat for tonight."

They boy's young, ruddy face turned crimson under their scrutiny.

Jill looped her arm over his skinny shoulders. "That sounds like a brilliant idea. We'll let the two big he-men go out and stalk defenseless little bunny rabbits while you educate me on the edible fungi in the area."

"Methinks I will find more than rabbit for our supper tonight," Roderick said. "I noticed a fresh deer rub before we stopped to camp."

"Oh, not a deer. Baelin's already killed the Easter Bunny. Don't take out Bambi, too."

"Bambi?" Owen asked.

Jill brushed the shaggy blond mane of hair out of his eyes. "Bambi is the name of a baby deer in a story from when I was a young girl. It would break my heart if they killed one."

"My lady, I vow I would never bring down a fawn that yet suckles at its mother's teat. But to get fresh meat, we must hunt. How is it the thought disturbs you so?" Roderick asked.

Baelin answered for her. "Lady Jill is accustomed to having her game dressed and plucked before it reaches her table."

Roderick nodded. "Ah, that explains many things. So you come from a privileged household, with servants to prepare your meals?"

"Something like that. Only we call them restaurants where I come from."

"My lady is not accustomed to cooking in the field, as you may have noticed."

Jill scowled at Baelin's remark, knowing an insult when she heard it. "I'll have you know I can cook with the best of them. I just need a microwave to do it."

"What is a micro—" Owen started to inquire.

"Do not ask," Baelin interrupted him. "Some things 'tis better not knowing."

He stooped to gather his bow and quiver of arrows. Roderick shook his head, apparently as confused as Owen, then headed toward his horse to get his own weapons.

Jill caught the young boy watching both men as they readied their hunting gear. "I'm guessing you'd rather go with them, huh?"

"Aye," the boy sighed. "Sir Roderick has instructed me with the bow. I am getting quite good at it."

She understood his frustration at being left out and regulated to what amounted to women's work.

"I am sure you are, Master Owen." Baelin's voice said as he clapped the lad on the shoulder. "But someone must stay and protect Lady Jill while we are gone. 'Tis a great thing I ask of you," his eyes shifted briefly to hers before returning to the boy's rapt face, "for she is most precious to me. Should aught happen, I expect you to use that bow of yours to defend her."

Owen stood taller, puffing out his bony chest like the biggest rooster in the barnyard. "Aye, my lord. I will defend Lady Jill with my very life if I must."

Baelin chuckled. "Let us hope it does not come to that, but I shall breathe easier knowing you are prepared to do so."

She wanted to hug Baelin, even though the words were more to ease the boy's wounded pride than the truth. Jill stood a foot taller and had a good fifty pounds on Owen, making her far more intimidating than a twelve year old boy.

Roderick approached and narrowed his eyes as he caught the end of their conversation. Was he jealous that Owen had found another knight to look up to?

Jill sighed. Two competitive men with pointy objects going off in a huff was not a good thing. They were just as likely to shoot each other instead of a deer.

"Perhaps 'tis you who should stay and guard Lady Jill. After all, we are on Westmorland lands. I have leave to hunt his forests. Do you?"

"That I do." Baelin turned as he slung his quiver of arrows over his shoulder. "Or at least I once did from one of his kinsmen," he mumbled under his breath.

Jill wasn't sure if Roderick heard the last part, but she certainly did. She released her hold on Owen and pulled Baelin out of earshot.

"Let me guess," she whispered. "That particular kinsman you knew has been dead and buried for over two hundred years."

He nodded.

"In that case, I'm thinking the statute of limitations on that permission slip has expired."

Ignoring her, he tested the string on his bow. Jill fisted her hands on her hips. Were all knights this pig-headed or was it a dragon thing? "If it's illegal for you to hunt here, don't do it."

"'Tis against the law to hunt anywhere without leave of liege or King. But our only other choice is to venture into a village for supplies." He lowered his bow and looked at her with a twinkle in his eye. "And we both know how dangerous that can be where you are concerned."

At her frown, he pressed his lips together in an attempt to stop them from twitching. "Nay, I prefer to take my chances in the forest."

Baelin was joking but she wasn't finding any humor in the situation. She may be slow to catch on, but she was beginning to learn how serious the consequences could be when it came to breaking the law in this godforsaken time. "They burned me with a hot piker for touching a stupid statue. What will happen to you if you're caught hunting on private property?"

"Oh, naught so terrible as that. They would merely blind me or cut off my bollocks."

"Baelin!"

He lost the battle with subduing his amusement and laughed. "Fear not, my lady. They would have to catch me first." He reached around his broad shoulder and patted the wings hidden beneath his cloak. "And we both know how hard that would be."

"Seriously, Baelin. It's too dangerous. If I'd known the risk you were taking, I'd have never let you go hunting the first time."

"Truth be told, there is little risk to me." He reached out and ran a single finger down her cheek. "But it warms my dragon heart to know you will worry about me whilst I am gone."

"The tracks are still fresh. The hart cannot be far."

Baelin rolled his eyes. "So it would seem."

He did not require Kendale's help following the deer. He had no need to look for tracks or rubbings or droppings left on the ground. He could follow the stag's trail easily by scent alone, not that he would reveal that to the unwelcome hunting companion at his side.

"Will not Lady Jill be pleased to find more than hard bread and dried figs to fill her belly tonight?"

"She will think it the senseless murder of a harmless woodland creature if I do not miss my guess," Baelin grumbled under his breath. He tended to agree with her this time.

Bring down a deer, indeed. Kendale only boasted of such to impress her.

"A stag is too large. We have no salt to keep the meat. 'Twould be a waste of a fine beast." It was true. The four of them couldn't consume an entire deer before it spoiled if they ate it morning, noon, and night. Now if he were in his dragon form, he could devour it in three bites with naught left but a pair of antlers and a hoof or two.

Kendale slid him a sly smile. "'Twill not be a waste if I am rewarded with a kiss from the lady for my efforts."

"Then you are in for a grave disappointment. Slaughtering animals does not impress her."

"Hmmm. Do I detect the sound of worry in your voice? Are you are threatened by the thought she may eventually come to favor me?"

"You think too highly of yourself to believe I would ever feel threatened by the likes of you."
Truth be known, I could burn you to ash where you stand ere you drew your sword
.

The knight raised his dark brows in mock wonder. "Ah, then could it be that you have not yet received such a boon from the lady?"

Baelin turned his attention to the trees ahead, uncomfortable under Kendale's intense scrutiny. "You are slow-witted indeed if you have not figured out by now she is not so easily swayed by grand boasts or a silver tongue."

"Not easily, aye. But like many a maid before her, she can be swayed by the right man, of that I am certain. 'Twill just take time and skill, of which I have plenty." He had the audacity to wink at him. "And I do so love a challenge."

Baelin fought hard to suppress the growl forming deep in his throat. "As long as she is under my protection, there is no challenge—from you or anyone else."

"Ah, yes, your protection. But the lady is not pledged to you or any other, so it sounds to me as if she is free to be wooed by any man who is of a mind to do so."

"She is not interested in being wooed. All she wants is to return to her home and I have vowed to get her there, safely."

"Aye, true enough. She has told me as much."

Baelin huffed his exasperation, careful not to let a puff of smoke escape in the wave of his irritation. "Then why do you persist in pursuing her?"

Kendale chuckled. "Because it annoys you so when I do."

Taken aback, Baelin could barely form a response. "Why you—"

A crash in the underbrush silenced both knights. They raised their bows in unison, arrows cocked.

Baelin tensed. The scent was wrong. The rustle of undergrowth coming from the wrong direction. It was not the hart.

Before he could shout a warning, a large boar plunged out of the dense scrub and tangled vines, tusks gleaming and black eyes full of predatory rage.

Kendale let fly his arrow, but his aim was too high and it sailed over the charging beast's raised hackles. Baelin let loose his own arrow, the barbed tip slicing through bristles, hide and muscle to strike deep in the boar's shoulder.

It did little to slow the raging animal's attack, to stop its deadly charge as it hurtled by Kendale in a furious blur of territorial instinct and bore down on Baelin.

With no time to ready another arrow, he gripped his bow with both hands and held it out before him. Even if he could draw his sword, it would not help him now, the long blade useless at this close range. He planted his feet and braced for the impact to come. The large beast plowed into him full force, knocking him to the ground.

With the bow wedged in its gaping jaw, the boar's hot breath gusted inches from his face. Baelin's arms shook from the strain of keeping the savage tusks from ripping into his throat.

Kendale slammed into its side, using the force of his weight to plunge his dagger into the animal's broad side, shoving the blade deep between its ribs. Hot blood spurted out, pulsing over the knight's hands and raining down onto Baelin.

The wild hog squealed in pain and outrage. It turned on Kendale, rolling him beneath its heavy body before stumbling to its feet, the dagger still protruding from its heaving side. The wounded boar spun on the dazed knight, intend on using its long tusks to tear him apart.