The Lady of Fairhaven (21 page)

In the morning two men built a litter and set out for the castle with Simon. He was in no condition to follow and would only hold them up. Luke and Phillip and the rest of the men continued on, following the horse tracks in the damp earth. Unable to maintain a fast pace while tracking made both men irritable.

It took a while to follow the zigzag path of the horses. Gillian and Anne had done well trying to throw off a tracker. Luke felt, however, that if he could follow her trail, the highwayman could do the same. At this point he assumed there was still only one man. Only three sets of hoof prints were visible.

“
Look, Luke shouted.” He was pointing at the ground. There was evidence of a struggle. It appears one horse ran toward the meadow to the east and these other two sets of tracks ran together. Clearly Anne and Gillian were separated because the larger horse remained with the smaller and doubled back into the woods. Luke ordered two men to follow the single horse.

Gillian breathed in as his hands clumsily fumbled with her breast through the top of her gown. “Please sir, Let me relieve myself. I have been cold all night and am most desperate at this early hour of the morn. I promise I will give you no trouble. You have me caught well enough.”

“
You are right about that my pretty one,” said the rough man. His callused fingers scratched crudely across the creamy flesh of her breast. Gillian closed her eyes and sighed. “You like this don’t you?” Once again Gillian sucked in a large draught of air then moaned.

“
Oh yes,” he said, “I can see you want more of me. We can do that my pretty one. Your husband need not know you liked it.”

“
Please release me so I might relieve myself and clean up. You have my horse, and I would have nary a place to travel to without a horse. You may keep me in sight if you will.”

“
Oh, I will be doing that, my pretty. You can know I will do that.”

The man leaned over and kissed her once again. It was all she could do to maintain any semblance of composure. There was nothing Gillian could do while she was trussed. The man released her then reached behind her back and untied her bindings. Within a few seconds, Gillian was free.

She walked toward the small stream where they camped. Her legs tingled from being unmoved throughout the night. Her back ached and her sore ribs still restricted her breathing. Somehow she had to find a way to get free from the man. As she approached the stream, she saw her chance. On the bank was a broken tree branch of suitable size. If everything worked perfectly, she could smash the beastly man in the face with the stick and she could flee. It would require impatience on his part and the quite the opposite on hers.

Fearing the worst from his captive, the man finally strode over to the stream. Gillian’s weapon, concealed under what was left of her gown, was within reach as the man approached.

“
What is taking you so long?” the crude man asked. “It shouldn’t…” His sentence was caught short as Gillian swung the branch wildly toward his head. It was a lucky blow to his temple. The man dropped to his knees, but did not fall prey to the darkness as Gillian had hoped. If she were to escape she must strike once again.

Trembling fingers clutched firmly to the branch. She swung it violently to the back of the man’s head, and he fell face down into the mud. Gillian poked him once in the ribs, then looked at the lump on the back of his skull. Without any more inquiry she ran to Buttercup. The horse had no saddle, and she was unsure if she could take the time to fasten it on. Quickly, she led the horse to a rock where she could mount and headed off with her abductor’s horse pulled in tow. At least with both animals she would have some time before he could catch her.

Gillian rode for hours through the forest with no apparent direction in mind. She was lost and cold. Her stomach grumbled in protest for a lack of food. She had eaten little before her escape and capture. Any opportunity to take the man’s food had been lost with the fear of staying too long.

The woods were getting dark with the dim light of afternoon. She would spend another night in the dark forest alone. Despair bubbled up inside her. Caught in her fear and exhaustion, she had released a grip on the reigns and Buttercup had taken her own lead. Twice she had closed her eyes and awoke finding Buttercup nibbling grass. The last time she nudged her mare forward she looked up and spied a small daub and wattle hut next to a tiny stream in the center of a clearing.

Without thinking, she called out to the inhabitants. Gillian waited and called again. Praying she would find someone around, she called once more. After watering the horses at the tiny stream, she walked them back to the hut. Alone and miserable, she led the horses into the stall at the back of the hut. Without any means to start a fire, Gillian collapsed on the lumpy pallet and covered herself with old but clean hay from the edges of the stall. It would have to do to keep her warm.

Freedom from the horrible man who had captured her made her smile. She clung to that thought as she drifted fitfully to sleep.

Night descended on the woods, leaving no light passing through to the forest floor. The rescue party could ill afford a fire to give away their position. They could only pray that the abductors would be foolish enough to light theirs.

As the men settled down, Luke confided to his father. “I’m sorry father for not protecting Lady Gillian. She has had a hard time at the hands of her uncle and now this. Perhaps she should have stayed with us until your arrival.”

“
There is no point in second guessing your decisions. If I had been in your place, I would have made the same choices. It was important that the ladies were sent out of harms way. Had you known the men were willing to follow them you might have selected differently.”

“
These men have gone to great lengths to get Lady Gillian. We can only pray she will not be hurt. But we must hurry to insure her safety.”

The sun rose and Luke was waiting for it. Exhausted, but unable to sleep knowing Gillian was at the mercy of some brigand left him irritable and eager to get started. Eating dried bread, cheese and meat in the saddle the eight men traveled along the trail. If the abductor had camped nearby and was not looking for companions, they might be lucky to find them soon. Otherwise, they could have a hard ride ahead.

In an hour’s time Luke found hoof prints in the soft mud. Two horses traveling along the same path were very different. Buttercup had a small nick near the end of the horseshoe. It was clearly Gillian’s horse that came this way.

Only one person was holding Gillian at this point. There was still hope in getting her out unharmed. Luke was walking along the tracks in the mud, trying to pick out Gillian’s mount. It was a slow process that was frustrating him. He was afraid she was getting farther and farther away. He couldn’t bear the loss another minute.

At that moment, they heard a muffled cry. The men tied their well-trained destriers to trees and walked to where they heard the noise.

A large burly man sat at a fire using a saddle as a chair. His head rested in his hands as he sat near the flames. Another moan from the man broke the silence.

The two split up and approached from opposite sides. Clearly, the man was stunned and unable to respond to any threat. With two swords pointed at his vitals he made no move to protest.

“
I suppose you are looking for that lady riding through the forest.” The man stated simply.

“
Aye, and you had better be making good time at telling us where she is and that she is well,” rasped Phillip. Phillip’s anger was in full bloom. It had been a rare occasion to see him in such an agitated state. It nearly matched Luke’s present display of temper.

“
You can have that she devil. She knocked me senseless with a log. I thought she was supposed to be a lady,” the man growled with indignation.

Luke stepped forward to pummel the ill-mannered rogue.

Phillip reached out and stopped his forward progress. “We need to know of Lady Gillian. Perhaps if he can tell us where she has gone, we can spare him.” Phillips voice, however, betrayed that his patience was also wearing thin.

“
I don’t know where that one went. She left with my horse. Stole it right after she knocked me senseless.”

With that last remark Luke reached forward and landed a hard blow to the man’s jaw sending him to the ground again.

“
We had best be off. Perhaps we can catch up with her,” Luke said. He was already back to his horse. “Dog, find Lady Gillian,” he said as he mounted his destrier.

The group was making good time since there were fewer tracks to distract them. Dog sniffed, then ran ahead, following the horse tracks in the dirt. It was dusk when the group first spotted a hut in a clearing. Dog barked and ran to the door.

“
Easy Dog,” said Luke. The sword he had used so often in the last few days swung free of its scabbard. He called a greeting to the people inside. The sound of horses reached him. Hearing no reply Luke opened the door. Inside, he saw Buttercup and another horse. On the pallet was Gillian covered with straw.

“
Gillian, wake up,” Phillip whispered. There was no response. “Gillian,” he called again. Turning to the entrance, Luke shouted, “Get a fire started. We will be staying here for the night.”

One man started a fire in the hearth, and Phillip sat on the pallet next to his new bride. In the light of the fire he could see a sheen of perspiration spread on her brow. His hand touched her. Heat from fever radiated from her body. She was afire with it.

“
God’s wounds,” Phillip said. “She’s sick.” His hand touched her again and she struck out.

“
No! Get away. Don’t touch me. You cannot…” Gillian’s voice faded into moans.

“
I have little talent to cure a fever. What are your skills, Luke?” Phillip asked.

“
Not much better. Most men on the battlefield never survived the fever. Perhaps we should check her for wounds. Mayhap she is suffering beyond the fever.”

Phillip gently lifted Gillian up and rested her against his chest as his son looked over her back and arms. When he discovered the condition of her garment, Luke complained, “I should have run that devil through. He deserved no better than a gutting.”

Phillip’s agitation with her treatment gripped him so tightly that he walked outside the hut to clear the wild thoughts from his head.

Luke walked out to speak with his father. “I see no injuries. She may be suffering from a lack of cover. Her abductor seemed rather witless when it came to providing comfort.”

“
For now I think we shall keep our Lady warm. I believe that is the best we can manage. We will ride for home early in the morn,” Phillip said.

Toward dawn, Gillian awoke and found two men sleeping on the floor near her. A panic grew inside and at last she stepped lightly over their bodies and bolted for the door. She nearly made it outside before Luke wrapped his arms around her and lifted her kicking and screaming body off the ground.

“
No! She screamed. I have to get to Luke.” Her voice reduced down to quiet sobs. “I have to reach him, let me go. He will protect me. Please. Please release me.”

Luke stared at her in disbelief. In her wild ramblings she was calling out for him. “Gillian, It is Luke. I am with you and you are safe. Phillip is here too. He has come for you.” Luke shifted her weight up off the ground and against his chest.

“
Phillip?” Gillian asked.

“
I am here to take you home Gillian,” Phillip said, as he crossed the room toward her.

Luke placed her trembling body into his father’s arms. Phillip walked back to the pallet and gently sat his future bride down.

“
We have to get her home as soon as we can,” Phillip said. Luke only nodded. His emotions bubbled too close to the surface.

Gillian rolled over fitfully on the pallet and jolted awake. Noises around her forced her gritty fear widened eyes prematurely open and she searched the hut for any sign of danger. Instantly she bolted upright. She wasn’t alone. It was so dark she could not see who was there, but she heard men’s voices outside. She clamped a hand over her mouth suppressing a sharp intake of air that could have alerted the men outside to her state of wakefulness. If she was lucky she might edge out of the hut while they were otherwise occupied.

Gillian slipped outside the door and crept around the back and began running through the woods. Winding through the trees, Gillian didn’t look back through the dark. She ran hard, jumping over rotting logs and downed tree branches feeling her way in most cases through the pitch black night. Behind her, she heard the men’s curses fill the cold black air.

Whoever had found her empty pallet knew she was gone. They cursed their carelessness and demanded to get her back. If only she could run until sunrise, she might make it far enough away to reach safety.

Her lungs burned once again with exertion and fear. Leaning over with her hands clutching her knees, she gasped in air as quietly as she could manage. So many places in her body ached. Her mind was nearly resigned to surrender. She collapsed on a log, and her eyes closed with some mysterious but intense fatigue as she waited.

The sound of a barking dog closed in on her. Being hunted like prey chilled her to the bone. A dog would find her quickly. It could run in the darkness following scent like a robin follows the movement of the worm. And if it were a fine hunter it could make a quick attack, leaving little left of her flesh in tact.