Boadicea's Legacy (10 page)

He kissed her smooth forehead. She blinked in surprise.

Just a taste of her lips
.

They met, crashing mouth to mouth, and Os groaned at her generous warmth. She didn't back away from his kiss but welcomed it by throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him back with enthusiasm.

Sweet Christ
.

After a few moments, she broke away. He pulled her back, not done tasting the sweetest mouth he'd ever sampled. She struggled in his arms. “Os! Will your horse carry two?”

“Aye.” He kissed her eyebrows, the tip of her nose.

She kissed his mouth, then shook his shoulders. “Let's get on him, then, afore we're killed. Here come Thomas's men.” She pushed against his chest and ran to Bartholomew, hitched up her dress to her bare knees and jumped, pulling herself up by the saddle and tossing one leg over to sit astride.

My God
.

“Os! Hurry, man, before we're dead. How is my father? My mother? Let's circle back and fight. I will show you a shortcut, and we can get swords and axes. Aye, axes,” she said with a bloodthirsty cry of rage and terror.

Os looked back and saw the reason that a knight was supposed to keep his focus in order to stay alive. Thomas de Havel carried the white and green Montehue flag and was racing for them, followed by at least twenty men. “We can't stay and fight, Ela. Not this time. Which way to the village—nay, we can't lead Thomas through there. Which way to a back road?”

She struggled to jump off Bartholomew's back, but he held her tight. “I'll not leave my family to die, coward!”

“Nay.” Osbert turned and quelled her with a fierce look that would have had mere men shaking in their boots. “You will retreat and live to fight another day.”

Ela's green eyes widened with understanding, and she settled down, her gaze focused on the carnage behind her.
“My family home. Thomas is setting fire to the fields. Did you see my father?”

He grunted and pretended not to hear. Os understood her pain, but he'd made a promise to Lord Robert that he'd not forget. Ela would be safe, or he would die protecting her. There would be no more kisses.

Ela wiped the tears from her eyes. She hated to cry, but how could she stop? Her parents might be dead, though she didn't feel the loss in her heart, not as she'd done with her grandmother.

What could she do? Her grief billowed just as each cloud of dark smoke puffed into the air. Would the villagers stop the blaze before the manor caught fire? The horses, the cows, the gardens, the new crops—all threatened because of Thomas de Havel.

She vowed vengeance.

“Why?” She leaned her forehead against Os's back. “Why did he come to battle? Not because I wouldn't agree to marry him … that would be stupid. A waste of men.”

Os was quiet for a while. “He wanted you, if I had to guess, at any cost. Some people will not accept no for an answer.”

“He didn't want me.”

“Until you said nay.” Os slowed Bartholomew to a walk. “Rest, boy. Where is the next village?”

Ela looked at her surroundings and shifted uncomfortably. She hadn't realized they'd come so far. “Abberton, I
think. Where will your men go? Back to Norwich?”

“Aye. Albric will lead any survivors home.”

She shivered. “You don't think they are all dead, do you?”

He paused, as if considering. She appreciated that he didn't just lie. “Nay. The Earl of Norfolk has trained us all well. We fight for him, and he doesn't hire incompetent knights. Despite the rumors about him, he's been a fair lord to me. He's much different than his father.”

“How did Thomas get so many men?” Her eyes itched from tears and worry. Osbert's warmth as he sat in front of her made her feel safe.

“Mercenaries. Going into battle against an army of paid knights is both good and bad. If they see they are losing, they tend to disappear—but they can be brutal in winning, since part of their knight price is a share of the gold from the slain.”

“I thought as much. I would want to fight for a man I believed in, if I were able to go to war.”

He scoffed. “You sound like a boy instead of a young lady of means.”

“I long to be free and to race my horse bareback across the fields, and yet I also like being pretty and having my hair brushed with perfume. I can toss a knife dead center of a target and juggle four apples at once. I can also read and add simple accounts. My parents think me a prize, and yet I am twenty and unwed.” Her sigh was heartfelt.

He burst out laughing, chuckling so hard that her head shook where it rested against his back.

“It would be difficult to be you.” He switched the reins to his left hand. “You could try being me, but you'd be bored, methinks.”

“What is it like, to be a knight of God?” She tickled his side and was glad when he laughed. She didn't think he laughed as much as he should.

“I spend a lot of time praying, and fighting, and being grateful for my many blessings.”

“What blessings are those? The only wealth you have is your horse.”

“Not so, my lady, not so. I have my own sword, I have a lord who provides food and shelter for me and Bartholomew, and I travel the world saving pretty ladies from trouble.”

Ela smiled against the fabric of his tunic. “What do you really do?”

“Live.” He exhaled with exaggeration. “In between things the earl asks me to do, I joust.”

“In tournaments? Oh. I wouldn't be bored being you. I long for adventure. Why is it that only men get to fight for honor and prizes?”

“Women are the fairer sex. Don't be angry with me—I heard that intake of breath. In hand-to-hand combat, women do not have the muscle-power that men do.”

“‘Tis unfair.”

“Not so. Women have the strength to bear children.”

“We are not given a choice,” Ela said, recalling a few of the babies she'd helped deliver. “What of your mother? Is she a strong woman?”

He stiffened, and she wondered at his response. “She died.”

“I'm sorry. Do you have any brothers and sisters? Is your father still alive?”

“They all died.” His voice roughened.

“Osbert. What happened?” Reacting to the pain she heard, she unselfconsciously wrapped her arms around his waist to give him a hug.

“It was a sickness passing through our village. I couldn't save them.” His voice broke and he coughed. “I didn't.”

She leaned her forehead against his solid back, silently offering comfort.

He cleared his throat. “Women have a strength in them that is just as powerful as a man's sword arm. Just
different.”

“You are
different
from any other man I've ever met.” She resisted the temptation to place a kiss on his shoulder, but she left her arms loosely around his waist. She told herself that she was worried she might fall off.

“You don't know many men, eh?”

“Not to flirt with.” What difference did it make if she told him some of the truth? “I'm the youngest of two brothers and three sisters, so I am not naïve, nor sheltered. I've delivered babies—I usually get called in to assist when there is a problem with the birth. As you heard, Boadicea's kin has a gift for healing. I inherited that gift, along with my hair and eyes.”

“You are telling me that you believe that you have a power handed down from generation to generation and that it comes from being descended from Boadicea.”

“It's true.” Ela's pulse pounded in her throat.

“For certes, the villagers certainly believed that your Aunt Nan was some sort of miracle worker. They couldn't wait to tell me a bunch of stories that couldn't possibly be true. A cross between a witch and a saint.”

“Ah.” Ela said a silent prayer for her Aunt Nan's soul and prayed as well that her parents were safe from harm. “You search for answers and then mock them. That is not very good of you, sir.”

“Sh.” Os picked up the reins and slapped them down, urging Bartholomew into a trot. “We have company. And until I'm sure what colors they wear, we should hide.”

Ela swallowed her disappointment in Os's answer. She turned back to see who was behind them. “The road is clear.”

“It won't stay that way.” They came around a bend, and Os guided Bartholomew off the road, across a ditch, and behind a cluster of trees, where they dismounted.

Ela thought it was a terrible waste of time—until she heard the pounding of hooves racing down the road toward Abberton.

How had he known they were being followed? Ela warned herself to be wary of Os, who was not just a simple knight of God, nor a coolheaded minion of the Earl of Norfolk. Not a witch-hunter, but more a gallant knight. He believed in women's strength. Osbert Edyvean was a dangerous, complex man, and Boadicea help her, she felt a spark.

T
he men rode bent over their horses. The heavy breathing of the stallions as they barreled down the road synchronized with the thud of hooves as they slammed against the packed dirt. The knights were dressed in black with de Havel's red crest.

Ela felt their evil intent as if it were a slap to the cheek. She couldn't read individual auras as they sped past, but she intuitively sensed that these men wouldn't stop until Osbert was killed and she was caught. She knew it, and she didn't question how. Unlike her mother, her intuition had a high accuracy rate.

“We'll need to cut back behind them to get to Norwich without them picking up our trail. I can't remember now if we spoke of where we were headed in front of Thomas—can you?”

Os spoke in a low whisper, even though there was no chance that the knights going by could hear them.

She whispered too. “He knows. You made no secret you worked for the earl. I wish I knew these woods better—
this side of Montehue Manor I am of no help, sir. I can take you to Cornwall, but I've not gone toward the North Sea.”

“No matter. I've pledged to keep you safe and I will. I am turned around as well.” He appeared confident for a man confused. “We need to find a main road. We'll travel faster.”

“The odds are twenty armed men to two—you and I. And as you pointed out earlier, I am a mere female lacking in strength.” She kept her tone sarcastic as she showed him the short sword she'd taken from her garter. “I say we ambush them from behind.”

“Ela
. My lady. Heed my words of caution. I would like nothing more than to storm into the fray, but that is not the way to win a battle. Cool heads and plans of strategy, that is how to seize the day.”

“I'm sorry.” Her eyes welled. “My parents may be dead, and we are hiding like children behind a haystack instead of doing something.” She sighed. “I will listen to you, Osbert, because I trust your instincts.”

“Instinct?” He turned and stared at her with deepening slate eyes. “Lady, ‘tis my experience at living you should be trusting. Not some superstitious tightening of the gut.”

Ela shrugged, watching the last of the stallions disappear around the bend. “Does it matter so much what you call it? I trust in
you
, Os.” She straightened, stretching her back and gesturing to the darkening sky. “We'll need to find shelter soon. I suppose Abberton is no longer safe. That leaves the open field or mayhap a farmhouse along the road.”

Os grunted, searching the horizon.

She poked him in the shoulder. “The forest is probably the safest place for us to spend the night.”

He stared up at the sky. “And how am I to explain that to your father? The two of us alone in the woods?”

“That we were running and hiding from certain death? I am sure he will understand.”

He scratched his chin, and Ela watched as he wrestled with himself. At last he said, “I promise not to touch you. I will treasure your virtue.”

Laughing, Ela punched him in the arm. “No man will steal my virtue. I will give it or nay.” She noticed his flushing cheeks, and she stopped teasing. “You are most noble, Osbert, and I don't fear you—or your advances.”

She reached out and touched his firm mouth. His hadn't been her first kiss, but it had been her
best
kiss.

He backed away, leading Bartholomew toward the road. “We must hurry, if we are going to find a place to hole up before it gets too dark.”

Ela nodded, then stared over the fields in the direction of her home. She bent her head and sent her family her love.