Gayle Callen (22 page)

A
lthough the woods were dark and Reynold’s grip on her arm was disconcerting, Katherine’s exhaustion overtook everything else. Her feet felt leaden, and she stumbled over every branch and rock. How long had she walked today? Had their silent journey really begun last night? When Reynold stopped, Katherine’s eyelids fluttered closed. Even his presence didn’t bother her. If only she could sleep.

As Reynold turned to ask Katherine where she’d like to camp, he saw her eyes close and her body sway. He caught her up into his arms and she didn’t resist, merely dropped her head against his shoulder and slept. Reynold smiled. He had pushed her too hard, rarely letting her rest. She hadn’t complained, only glared at him occasionally with that anger she used as a shield. He knew she feared being alone with him, that she still did not understand that her love would never be for James. He was exhilarated that he could affect her as much as she did him.

The waning moon occasionally peered through the tree tops as Reynold placed his burden on the warm ground. From his sack he removed two blankets and set her on one. He lay down beside her and covered them with the second blanket. She sighed and snuggled against him.

Reynold knew he should sleep. Dawn would soon arrive, and with it another hard march. But in the shadowy darkness, Katherine’s face was so intriguing. He touched her soft hairline which ended at a point on her forehead, leading his fingers down to her pale brows. He smoothed each gently, then smiled as she wrinkled her nose. He wished he could see her eyes, as dark, dark blue as a summer sky at dusk. If only he could look into her face for the rest of his life.

With a sigh, he dropped his head to his arm and continued to study Katherine. He could not take her back to James, whatever she may think. Reynold could not bear to see her married off to a man who did not care about her. Oh, he didn’t doubt that James might grow fond of her. But that was a paltry emotion compared to love. And Reynold loved Katherine. She had brought him out of the darkness, taught him to love, made him see that his life was his own.

He cupped her soft cheek with his hand and kissed her forehead. If only he could make her see that God had thrown them together, but it was up to them to find a way to make it last.

At dawn, her scream woke him. Reynold’s eyes flashed open and he rolled just in time to escape the knife descending towards his head. He pushed Katherine aside as he leapt to his feet, using one arm to shield himself from another blow. A quick stab of pain made him grimace. He arched away from the knife, whirling to face his opponent head on. The kidnapper grinned, showing the gaping hole where his front teeth should be.

“Reynold, take care!” Katherine cried from behind him.

“Stay back!” he commanded, hoping for once she’d listen.

Reynold kept an eye on the knife in his opponent’s hand. “You should not have returned,” he said with as much nonchalance as he could muster.

The red-haired man wheezed a laugh through the hole between his teeth. “I ain’t quittin’ ’til the job’s done. And I never, ever lose. I ain’t after ye, yer lordship. Ye could just leave.”

Reynold watched the twisting knife glitter in the fading moonlight. “The lady’s problems are mine. Whom do you serve?”

The man slashed forward with his knife. Reynold grabbed the wrist with both hands and forced it upwards. Chest to chest they struggled for possession of the weapon. The kidnapper’s free hand clawed at Reynold’s face, and he kneed the man in the stomach. The knife slipped free.

Just as Reynold took hold of it in triumph, he felt a sharp stab of pain inflame his thigh, and
looked into the satisfied face of his attacker. Somewhat amazed, he stumbled backward and the leg gave out beneath him. He went down hearing Katherine scream, and watched the second knife weave in his face. Flames seemed to lick along his leg, dulling his senses. Why didn’t the knife finish its work? Was that thunder he heard?

“They’re coming for me!” Katherine cried.

The knife wavered and retreated. Reynold sank back on his elbows, shaking his head in bemusement. Didn’t she hear the storm coming?

Katherine stood protectively over Reynold, afraid to imagine his injuries. The thundering of horses’ hooves grew loud enough to shake the ground. The kidnapper hesitated but a moment, cursed, and melted into the black forest. Katherine fell to her knees.

“Reynold?” she yelled above the sounds of horses and men in armor. She had not realized how close to the highway they slept, but now she was grateful.

He groaned softly, and rolled his head towards her knees. Katherine felt tears sting her eyes, and her chest ached as if she had been the one injured.

“Oh, Reynold, can you hear me?”

His eyes remained closed, his face pale white in the early morning light.

“I’m going for help. I shall return in a moment!”

As she pushed through the forest undergrowth, the first big drops of rain fell through the leaves. By the time she reached the highway, her wool peasant’s gown was dripping. She pushed by the
last bush then gasped and jumped backward as a towering stallion bore down on her. The road was filled, four or five deep, with horses and their armored riders, many carrying shields and banners. This was no leisurely nobleman’s entourage riding from one manor to another. An army of soldiers was on the move. The battle between King Richard and Henry Tudor must be near.

Katherine hesitated over the most painful decision she’d ever faced. Should she put the king before Reynold? If she needed to, she could quickly bind his wounds, and leave him in a nearby village until she returned.

Yet a moment more, and her choice was easily made. She could not leave him to a stranger’s care. The army streaming by would no more believe her story than her own betrothed had.

She needed medical supplies. In desperation, she waved her arms and screamed for help. It was futile. She had seen firsthand how a knight could treat a noble enemy with courtesy, while spitting on peasant women and children. The rain fell and she was splashed with mud from the horses. Katherine brushed streaming water from her face and tried not to panic. How could she possibly take care of Reynold alone? And now he might be bleeding to death. She was such a fool!

Katherine turned and pushed her way back into the forest, before the marching infantry could come upon her. Panic and despair sent her racing through the underbrush, heedless of the branches that snapped in her face with stinging wetness. Oh
God, what if he’d died while she was gone? What if the kidnapper had come back?

She stumbled out into the clearing, then fell over his body hidden in the grass. He groaned, and she cried out in relief.

“Reynold, I’m here,” she said soothingly, feeling the ground steady beneath them as the army rode farther away. “I’ll help you.”

Katherine quickly examined the scratches on his face and the small wound in his arm, which had already stopped bleeding. She ran her hands down his hips and thighs, then gasped and brought her palm away, wet with blood. A puddle of it soaked into the ground.

For a moment, Katherine felt weak with helplessness. Her basket of herbs lay far away in Durham. She closed her eyes and prayed for strength. Reynold would die if left in her meager care.

The forest was deathly quiet but for Reynold’s harsh breathing. Katherine stole a glance at his dear face, contorted in pain. How could she sit here in self-pity and let him die?

With a sudden grim determination, she pushed his tunic up to his hips. She unfastened the points of his stockings from his belt and carefully pulled the wool away from the gash in his leg. Blood oozed a slow river down his thigh into the grass. Katherine sat back and let the rain wash away as much as possible. Reynold flinched, and she placed her hands firmly on his body.

“Don’t move,” she whispered. “I’ll take care of you.”

He settled back into a deep sleep with the trust of a babe. Katherine hoped she was worthy of it. She grasped Reynold’s magic sack and rummaged through it until she found some rags. She exposed them to the rain, then began to scrub his wound gently. His leg stiffened but he made no sound. Her stomach quivered with queasiness when she was forced to pick a few bits of wool out of the wound. The blood continued to flow and she knew she must wrap his thigh tightly. She had known so many people who grew feverish and died over much less serious a wound than this. She suddenly remembered Reynold’s brother and shivered.

She folded the last rag and held it to Reynold’s injured thigh. She used her own stockings to tie it in place, then sat back and lifted her face to the pouring rain.

The moisture ran between her parted lips and down her tongue. She sipped at it gratefully for strength, then she opened her eyes and looked down at Reynold. He had not moved.

Katherine leaned over him and shielded his face from the rain. With gentle fingers she wiped the wetness from his skin. He was so white and still. She held back tears as she remembered his dear face pressed to her breast, and his ready smile, which always lifted her spirits. It was very easy to forget she should be angry with his deceptions.

His dark lashes fluttered, and Katherine held her breath. His violet eyes seemed dazed until they focused on her.

“Katherine?” Though hoarse and weak, his voice sounded lucid.

“Yes, Reynold?”

His eyes narrowed. “The ground is wet.”

“’Tis raining. We need to find shelter, but you know the area better than I. Do you remember where we are?”

He frowned. “South of Nottingham Castle. But you must leave. He will come back.”

“Soldiers on the way to the battle frightened him off. We’ll leave together.” She covered his lips when he would have protested. “Is there shelter nearby?”

He grimaced in what Katherine thought was pain. She touched her fingers to his cheek to soothe him, and received a glare in return.

“Do not touch me like that, Katherine, unless you mean it.”

She pulled her hand away.

He said, “There is a…small village farther down this path. The last time I was here, the village was slowly dying, but there might be shelter, and someone who can help us.”

Katherine stared doubtfully at his leg, with its bulky bandage. “Can you walk? Perhaps I should go for help alone.”

“No.” He sat up slowly. “If the battle is near, it will be too dangerous. Can you help me up?”

Katherine took his arm, but was unprepared for his weight. When he pulled, she fell on top of him and they bumped heads.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, gripping him once again.

Reynold sighed. “Are you ready?”

She nodded, then grunted and lifted until he swayed on his feet. His arm swung around her shoulders and she staggered, then steadied herself. “I’m ready.”

Reynold tested his weight on the injured leg, then nodded tightly. “It aches, but I can move it. The damage must be less than it appears.”

“Thank goodness,” she said, striving for a natural voice.

Reynold smiled and lifted her chin. “I promise ’tis not far.”

Katherine closed her eyes at the sweetness of his touch and the warm ache that filled her chest. She could not let herself be affected like this. She had already committed great sins against her betrothed. Would she be able to live with what she’d done? Would these haunting memories ever leave her?

Katherine turned her head away and began to walk slowly while Reynold stepped and hopped. Finally they found a pace that suited them both, and they moved through the dripping forest in silence but for their heavy breathing.

After an hour of exertion, steam was rising from Katherine’s wet gown. Her breath came in gasps. Reynold grunted occasionally as he limped. She looked down at his wounded thigh and gasped. Fresh blood had seeped through the bandage.

“Reynold, your leg,” she said, guiding him toward the base of a towering oak tree.

He allowed her to ease him to the damp earth. “Katherine, we cannot delay.”

“I’ll just take a moment to tighten your bandage.”

He sighed loudly and crossed his arms over his chest. Katherine hid a smile.

“You’re not a good patient, sir.”

“The pain does not do wondrous things for my temper. I am beginning to wish I had never brought you on this ridiculous mission. We will not reach the king in time.”

Katherine glanced beneath the bandage and grimaced. She tightened the stocking holding it in place. “You were right to bring me, Reynold, loathe though I am to admit it. I would have forever blamed myself for not trying.”

She finished her task and looked up into his face. His intense, hooded gaze caught hers and held.

“Are you perhaps glad I took you for other reasons?” he asked softly.

Katherine watched his lips as he spoke, and remembered their softness and the sweet torture they could evoke. Already James’s face seemed to be drifting from her memory. No, she could not allow this. Katherine bent her head and removed her hands from his warm leg.

“There is only one reason we are together here,” she said.

“Katherine, we have no need to lie to ourselves.”

She stood up. “I will not discuss this. You will take me to the king, and then I must return.”

Even as she spoke the harsh words, her throat closed up and she could feel tears stinging her eyes. Why must he make their family duties so difficult?

Reynold struggled to his feet in silence. Katherine felt panic begin to creep up on her again as she saw how white his face had become.

“Reynold?”

He shook his head. “Let us hurry, Katherine. I fear I will not last much longer.”

Katherine slid beneath his arm and began to pray.

A
s the trees began to thin, the rain fell in harder sheets that obscured Katherine’s sight. Her back ached from the strain of bearing Reynold’s weight. He had stopped speaking, as if he needed all his energy just to limp forward in ever-clumsier strides. She tried to keep her panicked thoughts from darting into the future, but to little avail. What would she do if Reynold proved too weak to continue?

Then Katherine felt the man beside her flinch. His courage and suffering pierced her heart. He chased away so many of her doubts about the decisions she’d made. If she’d gone home in the beginning, she never would have grown close to Reynold, never would have known what it was like to be desired for the woman she was, not her dowry.

She also never would have broken her betrothal vow, but that was something she would have to live with. No, she could not regret the decisions
that had brought her here. Reynold was hurt defending her, and she owed him more than she could ever repay.

They came out of the forest onto a hillside that sloped away in rolling waves of farmland. Off into the gray distance, she could see a ribbon of road she was sure must be the highway. For now she resolutely turned away, hoping no one would see them. But tomorrow, when Reynold was better, that road would lead to the end of their mission.

Ahead of them she saw a cluster of small houses and a larger stone building that must be a church. Katherine tried to pick up her pace, but Reynold shook his head.

“I am not sure we shall find help here, Katherine. Do you not see the fallow fields? The local lord must be converting his land to pasture for sheep. See them grazing there on the hillside?”

Katherine saw a huge, shifting white coverlet that seemed to blanket several hillsides. “I don’t understand why you think we’ll not find help.”

“The village has no farm land left. What family can survive that?”

Katherine looked into his grim face. “We must try, Reynold. Won’t there be someone here to guard the sheep? Perhaps the church—”

“Perhaps…” he murmured, closing his eyes and bending her shoulders with his weight. “I shall need to rest soon, my sweet.”

“We must get you out of the rain. The church will not turn us away.”

Reynold felt only deep sadness when they stood in the overgrown and neglected village green. Barns and sheds sagged against one another. Wooden houses with thatched roofs stood open to vandals and thieves alike. The thin wail of a child made him shiver.

Katherine sighed. “How could the lord of the manor allow this?”

“Sheep are easy to maintain, and so much more profitable. It is the way of the future, Katherine.”

“Surely the priest has not left the poor shepherds alone.”

“We shall see.”

Reynold did his best to hold most of his own weight. He could feel the trembling in Katherine’s frail shoulders, but it pleased him that she seemed to use her weak arm without thinking about it. He was so proud of the courage she had shown, although he knew she feared for their future. He wanted to tell her he would always take care of her, that he loved her, but those were words she would not welcome. Especially not now, when he knew she might have to go on without him. They were too near their goal and he was slowing her pace.

The water continued to drip from Reynold’s hair into his face. His wool tunic seemed to give off steam. Was Katherine as hot as he felt? When had the day grown so warm? He leaned his head against hers, his mouth against her wet hair. He didn’t feel as if his voice would be strong enough for her to hear.

“The church,” he murmured.

Katherine glanced quickly towards him, bumping her nose into his chin. He knew she was worried, and he wanted to tell her not to be. The wound was not mortal. But words would not pass his lips. He settled for a brief kiss to her brow as she dragged him forward.

The church was a squat building made of stone, with the cross of Jesus on its roof. Its carved wooden doors were faded and gouged.

Reynold cleared his throat to whisper, “I wonder how many young couples stood in this doorway to be married.”

Katherine would not look at him. She grasped the door handle, gave it a tug, and the door creaked open. Together they limped into the gloomy interior. The open floor where parishioners usually stood was covered in layers of dirt. Broken shutters hung from parchment-covered windows. At the far wall, a tattered cloth covered a stone altar.

Reynold tilted forward, and the floor seemed to rush up to his knees. Katherine cried out and stumbled down with him.

“Reynold, let me put down a blanket to cover the filth.”

He managed to keep his balance, then allowed her to help him onto his back. He groaned and closed his eyes.

“Does it hurt badly?” she asked in a soft voice, her slim hand resting on his chest.

He shook his head, although the fire in his leg
threatened to consume him. He looked up into her sweet face. “We have done this before, have we not? Only then, my lack of wounds led to a wondrous night.”

“Shhh,” she said, as her face reddened. He felt her cool fingers probing the wound, heard her gasp.

“I will not bleed to death, my sweet,” he whispered. “Bind the wound again and come talk with me.”

He endured her ministrations, then opened his eyes when she sat beside his shoulders. He smiled up at her white face.

“You are not going to cry, are you, Katherine?”

She stiffened and glared at him.

“Are you so sorry to be with me rather than at the church doors with James?”

“Must we speak of that?”

“Would you not today be a truly married woman?”

She remained silent.

“Do you love him?”

“I trust my father’s choice. I will grow to love him.”

“That sounds like stubbornness rather than true feeling.”

“Why do you speak of this, Reynold?” she demanded, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “We both will do our duties to our families.”

“I will not.”

“’Tis wishfulness talking,” she admonished, but he saw how quickly she looked away.

Reynold’s voice sounded hoarse to his own ears. “Since I have met you, my sweet, I realized I was not meant for the lonely life of a monastery. Edmund would not want me to be miserable. I can do more good for my family in other ways.”

“You are feverish.”

“Only because of my love for you.”

Reynold caught her hand before she could move away. “Do you not see that what we feel for each other is real?”

“It is only our wishes that make it seem so.” A tear escaped her lashes and her lips trembled.

He struggled up onto his elbows. “Is it my wishes that make me bum for the sight of you? Am I mad to remember the passionate hours you spent in my arms? Katherine, I thought I would melt into the ground when our families separated us and you played prospective bride with my brother!”

“I am his prospective bride!” she whispered as loudly as she dared, stealing a glance at the forbidding altar. “How can you speak of our sins in a holy church?”

“It would only be a sin for you to marry a man you do not love. James will make you miserable. Damn it, Katherine, our love is a gift from God that we should seize before it is too late!”

Reynold knew he had gone too far when she pushed away from him and began to delve into his sack. Her shoulders shook.

“Katherine, look at me.”

“You need nourishment. Close your mouth until you can fill it with food.”

He sighed and lay back on the hard ground. “Will you always fight me?”

“Yes!” she whispered, her suddenly fierce gaze locking with his. “I will fight this hell-concocted corruption of my soul. Although I have sinned, I will do as my father ordered me. I will complete the vows I have sworn.”

“And be miserable the rest of your life,” he answered darkly.

“Then that is God’s punishment, which I so richly deserve!”

“God does not wish us suffering, my sweet,” he murmured, reaching to touch her soft cheek.

She ducked away. “My life has been nothing but! And you are his worst torture yet.” She gasped in what sounded like a sob. “Reynold, what have I done to deserve such as this? When I was ready to do His will, why did the Lord allow me this brief sight of happiness? I feel I am being laughed at from all sides!”

Reynold sat up as quickly as he could, wanting to offer his comfort. Katherine didn’t move, just knelt forlornly in the dirt, watching her tears drip to her knees. The room wavered and Reynold fell back.

Her hands soothed his cheeks and forehead as she whispered sweet words. He wanted to tell her he was not some child so easily mollified, but her touch was a cool and gentle balm against the heat burning him.

“My children,” said a sudden, cold voice. “Mass ended many an hour ago.”

Reynold relaxed. It was but the priest come to inspect his visitors. Yet Katherine’s startled reaction suggested the exact opposite. She froze and held her breath. Her face drained of color and her lips moved without sound. When he would have spoken, she covered his mouth with trembling fingers.

“Answer me!” the imperious voice demanded.

Reynold lifted his head to peer around Katherine and saw only a bald priest in a tattered black cassock. His shoulders were hunched and he leaned on a carved stick, but his age was not so very advanced. Surely he would understand.

Katherine shook her head slightly in warning, then licked her lips. Turning her head, she peered at the priest through a lock of her hair. Reynold felt the prick of her nails in his arm.

“Father,” she said, her voice hoarse and unnatural, “forgive us, but there is a storm outside. Thieves set upon us and my husband was injured. He needs shelter.”

The priest moved forward warily. Reynold noticed that he barely leaned on the walking stick. “What do you want of me? As you can see from the plight of the village, I have nothing to give you.”

“We ask for nothing from you.”

Reynold glanced quickly at his “wife,” for he thought her words disrespectful from such a modest young woman.

“Then we understand each other,” said the priest, nodding his bald head.

He leaned over Reynold, a dark shadow in the gloom.

“What happened to you, my son?”

“I have been stabbed, Father,” he answered.

“Clean up when you’re through.”

Reynold frowned, then became more uneasy as he watched the old priest studying Katherine’s bent head. She barely seemed to be breathing as if she felt his scrutiny.

“You, woman, did you once live in the village?”

Katherine tried most desperately to control the frantic pounding of her heart. He was standing over her, the monk whose cruel voice still haunted her nightmares. Her hand stole up to cover her mouth before she could moan aloud in terror.

Seven years before, he had stood above her, a dark figure of evil, who would molest a twelve-year-old girl and swear her to secrecy lest she die from a bolt of God’s lightning. In her fright she had told, but no one had believed her hysterical cries. Eventually she learned he had been sent away.

Now he was here, far from the corridors of power where he had longed to be. And if he found out who she was, he would kill her.