Mystique (14 page)

The thunder was an ominous drumbeat behind her.

And then she heard one of her pursuers scream.

The horrible cry brought Alice to a stumbling halt. She whirled around in time to see the thief with the toothless grin go down beneath the hooves of a black war-stallion. The beast seemed not to notice the slight obstacle. It surged forward, seeking fresh prey.

Alice recognized the great war-beast and the un-helmed knight astride it. The black manes of horse and rider alike snapped in the wind. Steel flashed in the sun.

Alice clutched the stone and stared at the awesome sight she beheld. She had seen knights and war-horses enough in her life but she had never seen anything so fearsome as this.

Hugh the Relentless and the black juggernaut he rode came forward as one, a great engine of battle that nothing could stop.

The one-eyed man yelled and veered sharply from the chase, seeking refuge in the bushes that bordered the stream. He did not have a hope of outrunning the stallion. Apparently realizing that he was doomed, he turned helplessly to face his fate.

Alice started to close her eyes against the inevitable scene of death and destruction. But at the last instant the highly trained war-horse, obedient to its rider’s unseen command, altered course. The huge creature brushed past the thief, leaving the one-eyed man untouched.

The big animal came to a shuddering halt, swung around on its haunches, and paced back to where the one-eyed man cowered. The stallion tossed his head, blew heavily, and stomped one massive hoof as though to protest the end of the chase.

The one-eyed man fell to his knees in terror.

Hugh glanced at Alice. “Are you all right?”

Alice could not find her tongue. Her mouth had gone dry. She nodded quickly.

Satisfied with her response, Hugh turned his attention to the thief. When he spoke his voice was terrifyingly soft. “So, you would hunt the lady as though you were a hound in pursuit of a hare.”

“Do not kill me, m’lord,” the one-eyed man pleaded.
“We meant no harm. We was just frolicking with the lass. Only wanted a good tumble. Where’s the harm in that?”

“The lass,” Hugh said with exquisite care, “is my betrothed wife.”

The thief’s eye widened as he saw the ground open beneath his feet. Hell clearly awaited him. He made one more stumbling effort to defend himself.

“But how was we to know that, m’lord? She looks like any other wench. Found her comin’ out of the bushes, we did. Naturally, we assumed she was looking for a bit of sport.”

“Silence,” Hugh commanded. “You are still alive only because I have inquiries to make of you. If you do not watch your tongue I may well decide that I don’t need your answers.”

The thief shuddered. “Aye, m’lord.”

Dunstan came pelting around the corner of the old stone wall. Benedict, moving with the surprising speed he could affect with the aid of his staff, followed close behind him. Both men were out of breath and red in the face.

“Alice,” Benedict yelled. “Are you unhurt?”

“Aye.” Alice realized that she was trembling. She did not look at the man who had fallen beneath the war-horse’s hooves.

Hugh glanced at Dunstan. “See to the one on the ground. He went down beneath Storm’s charge and is likely dead.”

“Aye, m’lord.” Dunstan ambled toward the fallen man. He prodded the still body with the toe of his boot and spat casually into the grass. “I believe you’re correct in your assumption, sir.” Dunstan bent down to take a closer look at the object that lay beside the fallen man. “He carried a nice little dagger.”

“‘Tis yours if you want it,” Hugh said as he dismounted. “Along with anything else you can find on him.”

“That will not amount to much.”

A collective shout went up in the distance. The sounds of the latest clash on the jousting field were borne on the wind. Dunstan and Benedict both looked back in the direction of the tournament grounds.

Alice was conscious of an acute tension.

“I believe Vincent of Rivenhall has taken the field,” Hugh said after a moment,

“Aye, sir.” Dunstan heaved a sigh of regret. “That he has. ‘Twould appear he has gone against Harold of Ard-more. That won’t be much of a contest. Vincent will ride straight over the top of young Harold.”

Hugh’s jaw tightened but his voice remained as calm as though they had all been discussing the latest farming techniques. “I regret that you must content yourself with whatever booty you find on these two thieves today, Dunstan. ‘Tis plain that due to certain recent events we will not have the opportunity of taking more lucrative victories in the jousts.”

Dunstan shot a hooded glance toward Alice. “Aye, m’lord.”

Hugh tossed the reins of the war-horse to Benedict. “Summon the sheriff and tell him that I will wish to question this man later.”

“Aye, sir.” Benedict seized Storm’s reins. The stallion gave him a flat stare.

Hugh looked at Alice with unreadable eyes. “You are certain that you are unhurt?”

“Aye,” Alice whispered. For some idiotic reason she felt as if she were about to burst into tears. She had the most ridiculous desire to throw herself into Hugh’s arms. “You saved my life, my lord.”

“That would not have been necessary had you obeyed my instructions to attend the jousts.” Hugh’s voice held no inflection.

Alice went cold. Mayhap it was true what they said about him, she thought. Mayhap Hugh the Relentless lacked all the warmer feelings. The weight of the rag-wrapped stone was suddenly very heavy in her hands. Belatedly she remembered that she held it.

“I have discovered the green stone, my lord,” she said, hoping that knowledge would break through the invisible steel hauberk he wore over his emotions.

“Is that so?” He gave the object in her hands a cursory glance. “I am not pleased with the price you very nearly paid for it.”

“But—”

“I had already made inquiries concerning the whereabouts of Gilbert the troubadour. He was to have entertained certain knights and their ladies this evening. The stone would have been safely in my hands by morning. There was no necessity for you to risk your neck for it.”

Alice’s precarious emotions underwent a sudden shift. She was outraged. “You should have told me of your scheme before you went off to the jousts, my lord. We are partners, if you will recall. We made a bargain.”

“Our bargain, as you term it, has nothing to do with the fact that when I give instructions, I expect them to be obeyed.”

“By the Saints, sir, that is most unfair.”

“Unfair?” He started toward her. “You think I lack a sense of fairness merely because I object to your taking foolish risks?”

Alice stared at him in amazement. “You are angry.”

“Aye, madam.”

“I mean truly
angry,”
she breathed. “Simply because I put myself in danger.”

“I do not consider that such a simple matter, lady.”

Hugh’s forbidding expression should have deepened Alice’s alarm, but for some reason it did not. A tiny flame of hope flared to life within her.

“I believe that you are actually more concerned about me than you are about the green stone, sir.”

“You are my betrothed wife,” Hugh said evenly. “As such, you are my responsibility.”

Alice smiled tremulously. “My lord, I do believe you are something of a fraud. You are not nearly so cold as people claim. Today you saved my life and I will never forget it so long as I live.”

She set the cloth-shrouded stone on the ground, straightened, and rushed straight into Hugh’s arms.

To her astonishment, they closed around her.

The meshed steel links of Hugh’s hauberk were cold and hard but the strength in him was oddly comforting. Alice clung to him.

“We will speak more of this later,” Hugh said into her hair.

• • •

H
ugh waited until after the evening meal had been prepared and eaten around the fire before he went to Alice’s tent.

It was a very nice tent, he thought wryly as he walked toward it. Large, commodious. Quite comfortable. It even had a partition down the middle inside. It was the only tent that had been brought along on the journey.

It was his tent.

Hugh had assigned it to Alice without bothering to inquire whether or not she would be so gracious as to share its close confines with him. He’d known in advance what her answer would be to such a question.

Last night he had slept near the fire alongside his men. Tonight he had every expectation of doing so again while Alice enjoyed the comparative luxury and privacy of the tent.

Thus far Alice had not only slept alone in the tent, she had taken her meals there, too. As her uncle had sourly noted, she did not appear to have any interest in the conversation of knights and men-at-arms.

Hugh thought of her snuggled into his blankets and had to stifle a groan. A deep, restless need settled into his lower body. He had been too long without a woman. As a man of discipline he refused to be governed by his own lusts but he paid a price.

He knew the gnawing ache of unfulfilled sexual desire all too well. He had experienced it often enough over the years. He cheered himself with the thought that things would be different when he got himself a wife.

That notion naturally led to the all-too-obvious observation that he very nearly did have a wife. For most couples a betrothal was so close to a vow of marriage that few objected if the man and woman chose to consummate the union. In fact, such a consummation virtually ensured that the wedding would take place.

It was Hugh’s ill fortune to be betrothed to a lady who considered herself his business partner rather than his future spouse. He wondered what it was going to take to
convince Alice that marriage would be an interesting alternative to the convent.

The problem troubled him. It had all seemed so simple at first. Now he was starting to have doubts.

He had many abilities, Hugh thought. He was not without wits. Erasmus of Thornewood had seen to his education and Hugh was well aware that he was far more widely read than most men. But when it came to understanding women, especially a woman such as Alice, Hugh felt his skills to be sadly lacking.

“My lord?” Benedict rose from where he had been sitting near the fire and hurried over to Hugh. “May I have a word with you?”

“Not if it’s about your sister,” Hugh said.

“But, my lord, I would have you comprehend her better before you go to her. She meant no harm this afternoon.”

Hugh paused. “She very nearly got her throat slit this day. Do you wish me to encourage her in such foolishness?”

“Nay, sir, but I’m certain that she will not do anything so rash again. I must point out that you have gotten what you wanted. The green stone is now safely back in your possession. Can you not let matters rest?”

“Nay.” Hugh studied Benedict’s worried face in the flickering shadows cast by the fire. “Calm yourself, lad. I do not beat women. I will not strike your sister.”

Benedict looked unconvinced. “Sir Dunstan has explained that you are angry because you were unable to go against Vincent of Rivenhall in the jousts this afternoon.”

“And you fear I shall take out my irritation on Alice?”

“Aye, that is exactly what I fear. Alice has a way of annoying men who seek to order her about, my lord. My uncle was forever losing his temper with her.”

Hugh stilled. “Did Sir Ralf ever strike her?”

“Nay.” Benedict smiled ruefully. “I do not think he dared do so. He knew she would have her revenge in some fashion that he could not predict.”

“Aye.” Hugh relaxed. “I gained the impression that Ralf was somewhat intimidated by Alice.”

“At times I think he was actually afraid of her,” Benedict
diet said quietly. “Alice believed it was because of our mother’s reputation.”

“Your mother?”

“Aye. She was a great student of herbs, you see. A true mistress of the lore of plants.” Benedict hesitated. “She knew the properties of many strange and unusual species, the ones that could heal as well as those that could kill. And she taught Alice about them from a very early age.”

An icy sensation chilled the skin of Hugh’s arms. “In other words. Sir Ralf feared that Alice might have learned enough from your mother to poison him, is that it?”

“Alice would never do anything so terrible.” Benedict was clearly shocked by the notion. “My mother taught her to heal., not to cause harm.”

Hugh reached out and gripped Benedict’s shoulder. “Look into my face, lad.”

Benedict’s anxious eyes met his. “Aye, my lord?”

“There are things that must be made plain between Alice and myself. Among them is the fact that as my betrothed wife, she must abide by my instructions. I do not give orders for the sake of whim. I give them for the safety of those in my charge.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Alice and I may argue over this matter but I give you my oath that I will never strike your sister. You must be satisfied with that.”

Benedict searched Hugh’s face for a long moment, as though seeking to see clearly through the shadows. Then some of the rigid tension went out of his young shoulders. “Aye, my lord.”

Hugh released Benedict. “She will come to understand that while she is in my keeping, she must obey me just as everyone under my command does. Unfortunately, there may be times, such as today, when her very life depends upon her obedience.”

Benedict groaned. “I wish you good luck in convincing her of that, my lord.”

Hugh smiled slightly. “Thank you. I suspect I shall need it.”

He turned and continued toward the black tent. It was a fine night, he reflected. Cool but not cold. Campfires
dotted the darkened landscape around Ipstoke. Sounds of drunken revelry, loud laughter, and occasional bits of song drifted on the evening air.

It was a typical evening following a day of jousting. Victorious lords and knights were celebrating their triumphs in ballad and story. The losers were negotiating the generally friendly, but often expensive, ransoms that would be demanded of them.

More than one man would be impoverished by the day’s events. Several would be nursing bruises and the occasional broken bone.