“Then, today we will hunt.” He rose and started from the table.
“Don’t you hunt with hawks? I cannot hunt with you. I never hunted with birds nor do I have a weapon.”
“The hawks I keep are for the king. I don’t bother with birds. They take more time than I can give. And your weapon ‘tis of no consequence. I will provide the bow. Be ready to leave the keep in a short time. I gave Mildred a cloak to give you. The horses are being saddled as I speak.”
Rhianna struggled to her feet. Hunting…with a weapon? What would the other residents of Knockin think? A captive, a possible hostage, having a weapon? And again, Arthur had told him about their existence at Brynn Ffrydd. She had to make her brother understand he must stop his conversation with the lord of Knockin. The less Garrett knew about them, the better for them both.
She started for the stairs, shaking her head. Once more she would have to remind Arthur they were being held against their will. Their home was miles from here. The English were not their friends.
Mildred awaited her in her chamber.
“‘Tis an older gown I have for you and this cloak.”
“I give you thanks,” Rhianna said as she loosed the laces and slipped out of her gown. But the thought of what the others might think bothered her.
“Mildred, what say you to my hunting?”
“Arthur told my Lord you were good. There was concern you would starve when you ran away. Arthur said that was not a worry, that at least you could provide food for yourself.”
Rhianna grimaced. That then explained why Garrett knew she could hunt. But what did that tell him about her? He had to know that she was more than just a servant. The individuals who served the lord of a property did not hunt with a bow. Only the lord and his family had those skills—or his archers.
Should she appear to be a novice, someone who had little experience with a bow? Nay, she could not! Arthur had no doubt told him of her skill.
She sighed. Besides, she could no more pretend to be unaccomplished then she could pretend she didn’t ride. It wasn’t in her nature.
Once she had her garments changed, she accepted the cloak from Mildred and hurried down the stone steps, then into the courtyard. Indeed, horses waited with several of Garrett’s men. And they looked none too happy to be involved in this. Still, it was a chance for her to leave the keep, a chance to once again take in fresh air, even if it was English air.
They left the bailey, moving into the countryside heading east this time. For close to an hour they rode before Garrett called a halt.
“We go on foot from here.” He slid from his horse and turned to help her from hers, but she had already dismounted.
“Independent as always, I see,” he muttered for her hearing only.
“Aye,” she said, then couldn’t help the smile that curved her lips. He seemed annoyed but she wasn’t going to let it bother her. She loved to hunt and she was good at it.
“What do we hunt?” she asked.
“Deer.”
“My bow?”
“I have it here, with a quiver.”
She held out her hand and after a moment of hesitation he handed her a bow and a quiver of several arrows. After testing the bowstring, she followed him into the woods.
Together they moved forward.
Close to a small stream they sighted several animals. Garrett paused and Rhianna held her breath. When he grabbed his own bow, she grabbed an arrow, placed the notch in the string and pulled back. Before he had his arrow placed, the twang of her string sounded in his ear.
When her quarry dropped to the ground, she smiled with satisfaction.
Garrett swung around and his surprised glance had her grinning up at him.
“Mayhap that was a lucky shot.”
“Nay,” she said. “I do not miss.”
His glance turned into a glare. She looked away. For some reason, his annoyance hurt. But it shouldn’t. She squared her shoulder and lifted her chin.
“I can clean and skin the animal if you so desire.”
“Nay,” he replied. “The men will care for it. And our conversation has frightened off the other animals. Follow me.” He strode through the trees, leaving her no choice but to follow. They trudged toward another clearing. Again a cluster of deer stood grazing on the grass beside a bubbling brook and he turned to her signaling that she should not shoot. She waited.
He took aim and loosed his arrow. The animal staggered but did not fall, his frantic movements sending the other prey scattering.
Rhianna could not stand to see an animal injured without putting it out of its misery. She notched an arrow before Garrett had a chance to affix another arrow to his bowstring. Again the twang of the string announced her shot, clean and clear. The animal quivered and dived to the ground, the arrow piercing its heart.
Garrett turned to her, “‘Twas not a lucky shot then.”
“Nay,” she said, her voice just above a whisper. She was good, she knew. Now, he knew as well.
Garrett led the way back to the horses then he signaled his following men forward.
“The wench and I will stop by yonder stream to have our midday meal. Take care of the kill and then fix your own meals.”
He led the horses toward the trees and water. After he had seen to the horses, Garrett pulled a rolled fur hide from behind his saddle and placed it on the ground, close to the brook. Cheese, bread, a skin of wine and some of the partridge they had feasted on the night before appeared from a sack tied to the saddle.
Rhianna eased herself to the fur and wrapped her cloak around her shoulders.
“Chilled?” he asked.
“Nay,” she responded. Her shivers were from his closeness. She could not tell him that, nor was she going to say she trembled because of who he was.
He broke the bread and pulled a chunk of meat from the bird. Without a word, he offered it to her. Something in his manner alerted her to his intent. Before she could take the food from his hand, he pressed his lips against her outstretched fingers.
Hot streaks raced from her hand, through her arm straight to her soul. For an instant, she wondered if he had powers of which she knew nothing. She stared at him, noting his own startled look. She was not alone in her reaction to that caress.
“Nay, you should not,” she whispered, jerking her hand away from his mouth.
“Aye, I should. There is something about you, wench. Could it be that you are a witch, that you have bewitched me?”
“Nay, I have no powers. It is you, sirra, you have an unnatural skill. A kiss of the fingers should not burn, and yet yours does.” Mayhap she should not have admitted that to him, but he had to know from his own reaction.
“We must eat,” he said, changing the subject. “Then we will rest for a time before we return to the keep.”
She nodded, her throat tight with fear. He had named her witch. Did he believe what he said? That scared her to death.
The wine eased her throat so she could eat a bit of bread and cheese. Still, she kept her eyes on the brook flowing at their feet. Golden leaves and several already tinged with the brown of winter danced in circles through the water. As if they too were as confused as she. Desire for Garrett deShay’s kisses slashed her soul and she lowered her head. She needed to go home. Somehow she had to find a way.
After they finished eating, Rhianna knelt beside the stream to wash her hands. She heard a rustle in the bushes across the water, then the familiar twang of a longbow string.
She dived to the ground at the same time the arrow flew past. Before she could pull herself together, Garrett was swearing, using words and phrases she had never heard before.
The rush of Garrett’s men surrounded them and she heard Joseph D’Arcy’s exclamation of horror. Only then did she turn her head in Garrett’s direction. A smear of blood covered his left arm above the elbow and the fabric of his tunic was torn.
She gasped. The arrow had pierced his flesh. But had she been the intended victim? From her position on the ground, she glanced back at Garrett. He had been standing behind her, so unless the archer was a terrible shot, she could not have been the target. She stared at the clump of trees from which the arrow flew. One of her brothers?
One of his men raced forward.
“Whoever attacked has fled. They had a horse hidden in the brush. Should we follow?”
“Nay,” Garrett shouted. Rhianna heard the rage in his voice. Did he also think it might have been someone come to rescue her?
She eased herself from her position on the ground, tearing at the fabric of her chemise as she rose.
“Soak this in the wine,” she told Joseph as she stepped toward the group. “Then we’ll clean the wound.” She looked up at Garrett. “It will burn.”
Joseph looked horrified.
“Do what she says,” Garrett muttered. It was clear to all, his anger simmered below the surface. “Get that arrow,” he shouted at one of the men standing guard.
In no time, Rhianna had the wound cleaned and Garrett had the arrow. He said nothing but shoved the arrow into his quiver. It bore no likeness to the arrows he had given her to shoot even though she no longer had the bow. At least she would not be blamed for his injury.
Rhianna knelt beside the brook, more of her chemise in her hands. She heard Joseph mention something to Garrett, but with the noise of the water cascading over a mound of stone she couldn’t be certain. It had sounded like Moirant to her. Again she shivered, this time with fear. If the arrow came from the bow of one of Moirant’s men, what had she done to make that man willing to kill to have her in his clutches?
When Garrett ordered everyone back to the keep, Rhianna mounted her horse. Joseph grabbed the reins and Rhianna wondered if she would share some of the blame. It seemed so as they rode toward the castle, for several of the men glared at her.
Before they got to the walls, Garrett halted their group.
“No word of this to anyone. Is that clear?” He looked at each of the men. Their concerned voices sang out in negation.
“I have no desire for knowledge of this to be spread to our enemies,” Garrett announced. “Not a word.”
Slowly, the men agreed, but Rhianna could tell they were not happy about his command.
“That goes for you also, wench. You say nothing.”
Rhianna nodded. If it had been her brothers she didn’t want Garrett or his men chasing or capturing them.
That eventide, Rhianna begged to eat in her room. In truth, she was tired unto death. The ride and hunting had exhausted her, but her concern made attempting to swallow food impossible.
She sat in her chamber, toying with the meal Mildred brought and thought about the afternoon. Garrett had been impressed with her skill with the bow. During their improvised meal, despite her reaction to his touch, he had seemed relaxed. Then, someone had attacked them.
Again she visited the scene in her mind. Had Garrett been the target, or had the arrow been aimed at her? She didn’t know, nor did she understand why Garrett’s injury pained her almost as much as if the arrow had pierced her flesh.
~ * ~
Garrett sat at the dias playing with the food in his trencher. His arm ached and he had no hunger, although the cook had fixed one of his favorites. He was certain that arrow had been meant for him, but who and why?
Could that arrow have borne the mark of Moirant, as Joseph suspected? Then there was Colvin, who wanted Knockin, but would he kill to claim the land? Garrett doubted it, for Colvin was a coward. Besides, Edward would say who took control of Knockin and the king knew Colvin had his own estate. His half brother might claim the Welsh had killed Garrett to rescue their witch. Then there would be all out war with those in Wales who still fought against the king. But he couldn’t imagine Colvin wanting that for Colvin and his men would be commanded to do battle. And his half brother didn’t
like war.
However, his Welsh enemies might have sent one of their own to kill him. He did hold their woman. But, was she as important to them as he hoped, and would they kill to get her back? He didn’t know.
After he puzzled over who might be the culprit, he remembered the way in which Rhianna had taken command of his wound. No castle servant would have behaved like she had. Unless, of course, she held the position of healer. Mayhap he had the healer of Brynn Ffrydd instead of the leman of one of the brothers. He’d never considered that.
Although he’d insisted the afternoon’s event not be discussed he had felt compelled to inform his friend. Now, he turned to Lydon to discuss again what had taken place.
“I was recalling the way Rhianna took control of my injury this day. Think you she might be the keep’s healer? That would indeed give her an important position in the castle and the respect of its inhabitants.”
Lydon frowned and to Garrett’s disgust, shook his head.
“My friend, I told you I have a feeling she is more than a servant, more than a healer. She is wife to one of the men, or daughter to the prince. You’d best let our king know.”
“I want no word of those two going to the king until I’m certain of what I claim. Think you how it would look if I told Edward I had a son and a daughter, but those two are not of royal lineage? Nay, ‘tis not yet the time to claim them as the kind of hostages Edward wanted.”
Garrett glanced at his friend. He didn’t like the frown on Lydon’s face which spoke his disagreement.
“Look, before long we will know. We have scouts out scouring the countryside for one of the sons. The woman I hold is important. Of that I am certain. Someone will come for her. Then I will have a true hostage for my liege.”