The Deed (24 page)

Aye, it looks fair sore, Emma murmured, rising slowly to her feet. Did you cry out afore
you were hit?

Nay. I had no chance. I heard a sound behind me. Turned... He shook his head. Tis all I
recall.

Then it must have been Edsel, Amaury murmured grimly.

Little George stiffened. Is he all? The question died in his throat as he finally glanced
up and saw his comrade draped over his shoulders. Little Georges expression fell, and his
shoulders slumped wearily.

Come, Amaury murmured, offering his man his free hand. We shall return to camp and see if
our prisoner talks.

The firsts eyebrows rose as he got to his feet. You caught one?

Nay. We caught them all... but only one lives.

Rolling her eyes at the arrogance in her husbands voice, Emma moved past him to lead the
way back to camp.

Blake met them on the edge of the clearing with the news that their captive had died and
he had dispatched men to tend to the dead. Amaury was silent and grim over the news. Emma
knew he had been hoping to gain a confession from the man that he had been sent by
Bertrand so that he could present this proof to the king. She watched helplessly as he
stalked away, still bearing his fallen man across his shoulders, then moved to where Maude
sat by the fire in the clearing, silently hoping that the rest of the trip would be less
eventful.

She should have known it was too much to hope for.

They managed two days of uneventful travel. On the second night after the attack, Amaury
chose a spot along the river again. When he urged her to join him at the river for a swim,
she was reluctant to chance it. It did seem to be pushing their luck a bit, but she was
hot and sweaty from the trip and gave in in the end. Still, she held her breath
throughout, not relaxing until they had returned safely to camp and the dinner of rabbit
cooked over an open fire that Maude had helped prepare.

No one tarried long by the fire after eating. It was a lovely night with a star-studded
black velvet sky, but three days of hard riding was beginning to tell on everyone. Emma
herself was so tired she nearly dozed off where she sat.

Scooping her up easily in his arms when she started to topple toward the fire as she dozed
off, Amaury got to his feet, shaking his head at Maude when she stood to follow to help
her lady undress, then carried her to the tent.

Hmm. Emma leaned her head wearily against her husbands chest as he carried her. Thank you,
husband. I fear I was getting quite tired.

I noticed, wife.

Did you?

Amaury smiled slightly at the faint surprise in her voice. Aye, you were about to topple
into the fire as you dozed.

She blinked awake at that. Nay. I was not.

Aye, ye were. His chest rumbled with the answer as he pressed her closer and bent to enter
the tent. Turning back, he instructed her to close the flap, then turned back to face the
interior of the small tent once she had.

You may set me down now, husband. I am awake now.

Ignoring her, Amaury stepped forward and set her on the bottom of the makeshift bed, then
set about undressing her. Recognizing the look in his eyes, Emma simply smiled and began
working on his clothes as well. Long day or not, her husband had retained some energy for
his nightly duties. Or mayhap the dip in the river had helped revive him earlier. Whatever
the case, his attentions revived her quickly enough, and once he had satisfied the fires
that always seemed to burn just below the surface for him, she was wide awake and frisky.

Hugging him close as she lay half sprawled across him afterward, Emma purred and rubbed
her face against the small soft hairs on his chest, then tangled one finger languorously
in those hairs before asking softly, Husband, when is Little Georges wife going to join
him? She had asked that question repeatedly since Little Georges arrival and did wonder at
the delay. She was curious to see what kind of woman the man had married. So much so, that
she hoped to convince her husband that they should stop and collect the woman on the way
back from court. Hence the reason for her question. She had thought it a good lead in to
the suggestion.

Realizing that he was not answering her, Emma tipped her head up to glance at him, and
smiled when she saw that he was sleeping. Leaning up, she kissed him briefly on the cheek,
then pulled the blankets up to cover them both and snuggled down to go to sleep.

Tired as she had been earlier, it took quite a while for her to doze off for the night. It
seemed she had just managed to do so when something jarred her back to wakefulness.

Opening her eyes slowly, she waited for them to adjust to the darkness in the tent, her
ears straining to catch the small whisper of sound that had awakened her to begin with,
but all there was was silence now. Frowning as she began to distinguish shapes and shadows
in the dark, she moved her eyes around. She was no longer sleeping with her head on her
husbands chest. Now her legs were tangled with his, and her head was lying several inches
away from his own. She had just realized that when she recognized that the large, dark
shape looming on her husbands side of the bed was not the far wall of the tent as she had
at first presumed, but the shadow of someone standing over him.

Stiffening where she lay, Emma took a moment to consider the situation, then spotted the
glint of metal in his hand as the shadow moved. Recognizing it as a knife, she tugged her
legs free of her husbands, placed them on his behind, and gave him a powerful shove even
as she let loose a shrill scream.

Amaury rolled from the makeshift bed, knocking into the legs of the would-be assassin and
sending him crashing to the floor as he rolled atop him.

In the next moment, the tent was filled with cursing and shouting as the twosome began
rolling about the floor.

Standing on the bed, Emma screamed at the top of her lungs again for assistance, then
threw herself onto the rolling mass of male arms and legs.

What the bloody hell?! Blake lifted the torch he held a bit higher and gaped at the
threesome struggling about on the floor. Amaury and Emmanaked as the day they had been
bornand a fully clothed Little George were all rolling about the floor kicking and
hitting. Or to be more honest, wee Lady Emma appeared to be the only one kicking and
hitting. The two men seemed to be more concerned with blocking her blows as she leaped
about between, atop, and beneath them all at the same time. Mayhap if Lady Emma would open
her eyes, which were squinted closed at the moment, she might realize it and give up the
battle, for she was the only one fighting it, Blake thought with amusement. Then he waved
away the men who had followed him into the tent, before bellowing, What goes on here?

Lady Emma stilled at once at his words, much to everyones relief. Opening her eyes to find
the tent as bright as a sunny morning, she clambered quickly out of the tangle of arms and
legs on the floor and scampered to the bed to grab up the bedclothes to cover herself as
she turned to face the fracas she had left behind. Unfortunately, everything was a blur
just then, and she reached up fretfully to rub at her eye. She had received a fist to the
eye on first joining the fray. It was the reason she had kept her eyes closed after that.
Now she scowled in the direction of the two men raising themselves from the floor, and
pointed accusingly at the one who was dressed. Or at least, he appeared to be dressed.
Emmas eyes had not yet adjusted to the light. For all she knew she might be pointing at
her husband, but presumed Blake would know who she meant as she exclaimed, He tried to
kill us!

Blake cocked one eye as he turned to peer at Amaury and Little George. He thought surely
she must be joking, until he saw the shamefaced look on the mans face. Little George? he
said uncertainly.

Emma frowned at that. Squinting harder, she tried to make out the man she had pointed at.
Surely it could not be Amaurys own man?

He did not try to kill me, her husband announced wearily, much to both Blake and Emmas
relief, but

that relief died on dismay when he added, I was awake. He stood there a good ten minutes
and could not bring himself to it.

Blake saw Emma drop weakly to the bed at that, and would dearly have loved to join her in
doing so as he tried to sort out the muddle before him. Nay. Not Little George. Tell me
tis not so, he demanded, anger beginning to rise within him.

Avoiding his eyes, Little George stared guiltily at the ground. But why? Amaury has been
good to you. He Where is your wife?

Emma turned to her husband in surprise at that question. It was the same one she had asked
him earlier, though she knew he had been asleep then. It seemed he too had wondered at the
delay keeping the newlyweds apart.

Understanding coming to his face, Blake slumped slightly where he stood. She is not with
relatives, is she.

Nay, Little George admitted unhappily.

Where is she?

Taken. That one word was filled with a wealth of grief. We were on our way to Eberhart. An
hour from the castle she asked me to stop so she might relieve herself. She went a little
ways into the woods. She never returned. A stranger came instead. He said they held her
and would kill her should I try to find her. He said she would be safe... so long as I did
as I was told.

What did they want? Amaury asked when he grew silent.

Very little at first. I was simply to wait and listen and tell what I learned when asked.

Who were you to tell?

I did not know at first. So I watched and listened, and then de Lascey and his women came.

Sylvie. Blake murmured on a sigh.

Nay. Gytha.

Gytha? Emma peered at him in horror. It had been bad enough when she had thought it was
the young girl Sylvie, but Emma had liked Gytha.

Aye. Little George nodded. She used Sebert to find out things I could not tell her.

Amaurys eyebrows rose at that. What would Sebert know that you do not?

A great many things just lately, it seems, Little George told him with a brief flash of
amusement that soon died. Sighing, he shook his head. Sebert has been spending his time
since your wedding bouncing between doing his duties and trailing Lady Emma about, trying
to be privy to any and all conversations in

which she partook. Twas at your order, Little George added when Emma began to look upset
at that.

Mine?!

Aye. He told Gytha that you ordered him to listen at doors and make himself privy to any
and all conversations so that you did not have to waste time explaining things to him.

She nearly groaned aloud as she recalled her panic on the day of her wedding and the
stupid orders she had been bellowing about.

You did that? Amaury stared at her wide-eyed.

Waving the question irritably away, Emma turned back to Little George. So she was the one
to put the poison in Amaurys tankard?

Aye.

Why did she kill Sylvie?

The girl saw her put the potion in the tankard. That morning when they went down to break
fast, Gytha slipped some into her ale. I do not know what happened after that, but when I
went up to fetch de Lascey and his women, Gytha trailed behind to speak to me. She slipped
an empty vial to me and told me to put it in the girls hand. She must have already put the
other in her bag.

Did you know that we would be attacked when we went to the river on the first day of our
travels? Amaury asked now.

Nay. Not until I was approached in the woods standing guard, he admitted reluctantly. Who
was it approached you in the woods? Gytha. She was there? Emma asked in dismay.

Little George nodded. Edsel had stepped a little distance away to... er... relieve
himself. He grimaced apologetically at Emma as he said that. I heard him cry out and
started to follow him. Gytha stepped into my path. She told me my wife was alive and well,
so far, but would only stay so if I continued to do as asked. Should her men fail this
time, I was to kill you before we reached court, else my wife would die. Then she koshed
me over the head.

So you planned to kill me tonight, Amaury murmured. I tried, Little George said grimly.
And could not.

His first shrugged uncomfortably. As Blake said, you have been good to me. We have been
friends for years. And I do not know if my wife still lives or if they have already killed
her. I simply could not bring myself to

Who is Gytha working for. Is it Bertrand? If so, we can go find your wife right now, Blake
said urgently, but the other man shook his head.

I do not know. I have never known. Had I known, I would have gone to get her long ago and
refused all their orders.

Silence filled the tent. When it had stretched out as taut as a bow, George shifted
uncomfortably. What will you do now?

Amaury shrugged unhappily. He had been awakened by the faint breeze that had entered the
tent with Little George. Had heard the faint rustle as Little George had approached the
bed, and had stiffened in preparation of defending himself, only to freeze when his eyes
had adjusted and he recognized his first. It had taken a few moments for him to recognize
the weapon he had then unsheathed and stood over him holding. Hardly able to believe what
he was witnessing, Amaury had waited tensely to see if the man could really go through
with it. After a good ten minutes had passed with Little George simply standing there,
seemingly unable to do the deed, and at the same time unable to walk away, Amaury had been
about to speak up and let him know he knew of his presence. Unfortunately, his wife had
awakened and preceded him, he thought wryly, recalling the boot to the behind that had
sent him sprawling into his would-be attacker.

I will do nothing, Little George, he said now with a sigh. I am sure had I been in your
position, I would have plunged the knife home for Emma.

Little George shrugged. I thought I could too until I stood over you.