Kingdom of Love, page 7
Keeping all of this in mind, Arianne worked for hours in the darkness. She stopped after a time, pulled the pack from her dress, and opened it. She quickly quenched her thirst and ate a piece of bread. When she started to rewrap the contents, her hand fell upon something long and cold. Feeling it gingerly, Arianne realized it was a knife. She took it gratefully and tucked it into her belt. Now, at least, she had some form of protection.
The pack was hurriedly replaced inside her gown before Arianne moved out. Cold dampness permeated her bones, and Arianne ached from the demands of her journey. Never before had she been required to endure anything so difficult, and she was certain that had it been a mission of less importance, she would have given up.
The moon had moved far to the western skies when Arianne realized that she couldn’t take another step. She managed to move deeper into the trees, knowing that she would soon collapse in exhaustion. Feeling her way in the darkness, Arianne found a clump of bushes, rolled herself beneath them, and succumbed to her body’s demands. Her last waking thoughts were of Richard. Her last words were whispered prayers for his safety.
CHAPTER 8
Arianne came awake slowly, forgetting for a moment where she was and why. She stretched out her cramped limbs and wondered why her hands hurt so much. Then the pungent smells of dirt and decaying vegetation arrested her senses, and Arianne snapped instantly awake.
She tried to focus on her surroundings and found that she was well hidden beneath a huge mass of leafy brush. She listened, straining against the silence for any sound that would reveal a threat, either two-footed or four-legged, but nothing came.
Pushing out from her hiding place, Arianne wanted to cry aloud at the soreness of her body. She rubbed her aching legs with her cut and bruised hands before trying to stand. Finally, she felt her muscles limber some and got to her feet.
Cautiously, Arianne looked and listened in all directions. She found herself shrouded in a misty fog yet easily recognized where the forest edge led to the roadway and chided herself for not having gone farther before seeking her comforts in sleep. God must truly have watched over her, Arianne mused, realizing that it wouldn’t have been that difficult to spot her had a patrol been on the forest’s edge.
She crept through the vegetation, trying to keep her steps noiseless. The task, however, was quickly proving impossible, as her feet crunched lightly with every move. Arianne sighed and kept moving. It was the only choice she had.
After traveling for only a matter of minutes, Arianne froze at the sound of voices. She fell to her hands and knees and tried to hide herself in the underbrush of the woods.
Three men moved just outside the forest’s perimeter. They were heavily armed, each sporting full chain mail hauberks and mail coifs that covered their heads. At their sides were sheathed broad swords, and mail chaussures protected their muscular legs.
Arianne’s heart pounded so loudly that she was certain the men could hear its beat. She bit the back of her hand to keep from crying out in fear. Only after the men had passed and moved on a good distance did she emerge.
With Tancred’s men already searching for her, Arianne doubted she would find Richard in time. She hurried, nearly running through the trees in the opposite direction of the three men. She cast a quick backward glance from beneath her hood and, when she turned, ran smack into the center of a broad, chain-mailed chest.
Huge arms encircled her, and Arianne realized she was caught. Fighting for all she was worth, Arianne began to kick and slap the man who held her. If Tancred thought she’d come back to him easily, he was a mistaken fool.
“What is this—a wood nymph perhaps?” The man laughed at her efforts and wrapped her tightly in her own cloak to still her actions. Arianne took advantage of the man’s bare hands and lowered her teeth into the tender flesh of his thumb.
“Ahh!” the man cried out as Arianne’s teeth found their mark. “You feisty vixen, I’ll fix you for that.” He pushed Arianne to the forest floor, then pulled his sword and put his foot upon her shoulder to still her.
Arianne cringed back into the folds of her hood. Would he slay her here and now before Tancred had a chance to do it himself? Instead of bringing the sword upon her, the man cut into her cloak and tore a long strip from the edge. He used it as a gag, which he forced around Arianne’s mouth in spite of her protests. He then tore other pieces of material and bound her hands and feet. With this done, he resheathed his sword and with little effort lifted Arianne over his shoulder.
Arianne’s mind was frantic. She had failed Richard in her mission and she had failed herself. Now he might never know of her love. She couldn’t keep the deluge of tears from falling. As the massive bulk of a man carried her from the forest, Arianne sobbed loudly, nearly wailing by the time the soldier brought her to his camp.
The man seemed not to notice her condition. He was oblivious to her tears, and Arianne was just as glad. She had no desire to evoke sympathy from her husband’s enemy. Let them deal with her harshly, she thought, for it made her anger keen and her desire to fight just that much stronger.
“What have you there, George?” a man called out. Arianne couldn’t see the man, but apparently he thought it great sport to tease her captor. “Seems you always did have a way with the ladies.”
“This baggage is no lady,” George replied, and Arianne squirmed angrily at his statement. “She bit me and slapped me and would have split my skull had I handed her an ax.”
The other man laughed furiously.
“Is she from the castle?” another man questioned. This one Arianne could see from the knees down. He moved forward and lifted back her hood to reveal his helmeted face.
“Aye, she must be,” George responded. “Do you know her?”
“Nay,” the man replied. “But he will. Best put her in the master’s tent, and it will be revealed soon enough.”
Arianne struggled against this news, and George gave her a firm whack across her backside. “Settle it down there, wench. I’ve no desire to be crippled by your flailing.”
Arianne ceased her struggles, but her mind raced furiously. I must escape these men, she thought. I must find Richard!
George did as he was bid and took her to a nearby tent, where he dumped her unceremoniously upon a pallet. Arianne turned questioning brown eyes upward, wondering if he would untie her. She raised her hands to emphasize her stare.
“Nay,” George said and shook his head. “I’ll not be turning you loose upon the men. They are needed to fight the enemy, and I’ll not have you wounding them before battle.”
Arianne struggled against her bonds and muttered beneath the gag that he was an ill-mannered oaf, but the man laughed and walked out of the tent.
With the soldier out of her sights, Arianne tried in earnest to free herself. She thought of the knife tucked inside her belt and tried to reach it but found it was useless. She raised her hands to pull at the gag but discovered George had secured it too tightly and it wouldn’t budge.
Refusing to give up, Arianne worked at the cloth until her wrists were nearly bleeding. She was tired and in pain by the time she gave in and rested from her efforts. Against her will, Arianne fell asleep and dreamed of running through the night mist to warn her beloved of a deadly enemy.
The sound of voices brought Arianne awake. She shook her head to clear her muddled mind and tried to focus on the muffled sound of men in conversation.
Her heart pounded harder as the voices grew louder.
“I assure you, Sire, ’twas no small feat to bring the wench in,” the voice of the one called George sounded out, and Arianne cringed.
The reply was too low to give Arianne understanding, but George laughed heartily at whatever comment was made. “I’d much rather feel the taste of his steel than another bite from that sly vixen. I wish you better luck in the handling of her.”
Arianne began to tremble at the words. Was she to be handed over to Tancred in this manner? Was she to meet her enemy bound and gagged without even the slightest hope of preserving her purity and life?
Dear God, she prayed, blinking back tears, help me!
The men were directly outside the tent, and against the shadows of early evening, Arianne could make out their movements in silhouette. The heavier of the two men was no doubt George. Arianne easily remembered that barrel-like frame. The other man still wore his helmet.
“Bring us food,” the man told George. Again, Arianne struggled to make out the words that the helmet so effectively muffled. It could be Tancred, she thought, but why would he risk leaving the protection of the castle?
A mailed hand reached out to pull back the tent flap, and Arianne involuntarily sunk deeper into the folds of her cape. The man entered the tent carrying a single light, which he placed on the ground opposite Arianne.
The dim glow only added to the ominous presence of the soldier. Shadows rose up from his form to make the man look like a towering sentinel. Arianne scooted away in horror, bringing his full attention to her. Pulling off his scabbard, the man gently placed his sword on the ground beside the light.
Next, he reached up and pulled the helmet from his head, but Arianne still couldn’t make out his features. She wasn’t sure she wanted to.
The man looked down at her for a moment, and Arianne found herself holding her breath. What torture would he use on her first?
The man stepped toward her. Arianne couldn’t suppress a cry. She pushed back with her feet and found herself against the tent wall, unable to go any farther. His hand came down, and Arianne struggled valiantly against him. Finally, the man had both her shoulders gripped in his hands.
Arianne paused only to give him a sense of false security. Reaching to his side, he pulled out a dagger, and Arianne feared she would faint. Her ragged breath came quicker and her heart raced in fear as the hand was lowered to her face. She closed her eyes tightly to squeeze out the sight of her own death.
With one quick snap, the gag was broken and Arianne began to realize he did not intend to slay her. At least not yet. The man replaced the dagger and reached forward again to push back the cloak and learn the identity of his captive.
Arianne braced herself to see her captor’s face, but what she saw was barely visible. The chain mail coif and the dirt smudged against his face made it impossible to tell if it was Tancred. He pushed the hood all the way off her head and gasped at the sight of her copper hair.
The roar emitted from the man was not what Arianne had expected. It was like that of a wild beast injured in a trap or a battle cry in the stillness of the night. She pushed her bound hands at the man, swinging them back and forth like a club.
“Leave me be, you cur! My husband will have your head for this!” Arianne screamed against the man’s chest. She continued her tirade even as the man sought to still her.
“Cut my bonds and give me a knife. We’ll see how courageous you are against an armed enemy. I won’t allow you to harm my husband without killing me first. I’ll warn him of your deceit, and nothing short of death will see me do otherwise!”
Arianne had no idea where her strength was coming from. The man kept hushing her, reaching out almost as if to comfort her, but Arianne knew that couldn’t be possible. She felt renewed vigor when she managed to set the man off his feet. Escape was impossible, so she assailed him with praise of Richard.
“You and all the armies of the world could not defeat my husband. You may have caught us unawares, but Richard will know. He will come and cut out your heart for this!” Arianne suddenly stopped when she realized the man was laughing. The sound of his strangely familiar laughter seemed to frighten her more than his overwhelming presence had.
Turning away, his amusement lingering in the air, the man untied his coif and pulled the mail from his head. Then turning back to face her, Arianne thought her eyes were playing tricks on her.
“Richard!” she gasped and nearly fell back against the pallet.
“The very same, Milady,” he chuckled. “The one whom the world’s armies could not defeat.”
Arianne felt the realization of safety coursing through her veins. Richard reached forward and cut the bonds from her hands and feet. Shock numbed her mind, and Arianne did nothing for a moment but stare in mute surprise.
“Are you injured, Arianne?” Richard questioned, reaching out to touch her hand. He took her fingers in his mailed hand and noticed the cuts and dried blood. He frowned, feeling an anger beyond all that he’d known before.
“What other suffering have you endured?” he questioned, praying that God had been merciful to his young wife.
Dropping her hands, Richard reached for the light and brought it closer. When it shone full upon her face, Richard could see the dark bruise on her jaw. With an anguished cry, he ripped off his mail gloves and took Arianne’s face in his hands.
“What has he done to you?”
CHAPTER 9
The agony in his voice was enough to reach through Arianne’s shock. “Oh, Richard!” she cried and threw herself into her husband’s arms. “I thought they’d captured me again. I thought I’d never get a chance to warn you.”
Richard crushed her against his hauberk. “I feared you were dead. A rider came to warn us. The last thing he’d seen was you at the end of Tancred’s sword.”
Arianne kissed his face and felt the wetness there. His tears mingled with her own as she assaulted his face with kiss after kiss. “I prayed I’d find you in time,” she whispered between kisses. “I had to find you and warn you. I had to tell you—”
“It doesn’t matter now,” Richard whispered. He was surprised at his wife’s response but knew she’d endured a great deal at the hand of his enemy.
“Yes,” Arianne said and pushed away from her husband’s steely chest. “Yes, it does matter. I feared I’d die before I could tell you the most important thing of all.”
“Then tell me, sweet Arianne. Tell me and relieve your worried mind,” he replied.
“I love you, Richard,” she said and waited for his response.
Her dark eyes pierced his heart as they confirmed the words that her mouth spoke. “Are you certain?” he questioned hesitantly. “You’ve been through a great deal and—”
Arianne put her finger to his lips. “I love you and I desire nothing more than for you to know the depths of that love and the warmth of hope it gives me.”
Richard pulled her gently into his arms and cradled her against him. For a moment there were no words he could speak. It was certainly not the ideal surrounding that he’d hoped, nay, dreamed, they’d share when she declared her love for him. But the words were just as tender, just as wondrous.
“I love you, Arianne,” he whispered. “I thank God you found safety in His care and were able to bring this news to me. Still, there is an enemy upon us, and I must see him defeated.”
“Who is he, Richard? Why does he hate you so?”
“What did he tell you?” Richard questioned. Arianne slipped from his arms to study her husband.
“He said very little,” she replied softly. “He told me he sought revenge for wrong done him by you. He told me little more than to say I was spoils of war, as was my home. He planned to use me to capture you. That was when I realized I could not send a messenger but instead must come to find you myself.”
Richard grimaced. “Tancred is a problem from my past. One that I must rid myself of once and for all.”
“Who is he, and what has happened between you that such hatred cries for blood?” Arianne asked, placing her hand upon Richard’s arm.
“It isn’t important,” he shrugged.
“Not important?” she whispered. “This man holds your home and people and you plan to end his life, but it is not important?”
Richard looked at her for a moment, then, shaking his head, got to his feet and began to remove the hauberk. “I cannot tell you.”
“I’m not a child, Richard. Why can you not tell me?” Arianne questioned more sharply than she’d intended.
“It is a thing between men,” he replied in a curt tone that told Arianne the matter was closed. She refused, however, to be put off.
“Nay, Your Grace,” she stated in a formal tone. “ ’Tis not a matter between only men. That man would have put himself in your place, not only before your people but in my bed.”
Richard whirled around, jaws clenched and eyes blazing. “You think I do not know what he is capable of?” The anger was apparent in his voice, and Arianne wished she’d not pressed the issue. Perhaps it was better that she not know the details of their war.
Richard struggled to rid himself of the chain mail, but it caught. He raged for a moment at it before stalking from the tent without so much as a backward glance.
Tears flowed down Arianne’s face, and her throat ached painfully. She longed for a cool drink and something to eat, but the longing in her heart was stronger yet.
“I have driven him away,” she whispered to herself. “I came here to declare my love, and I have driven him from me as if he were the enemy.”
She fell back against the pallet and sobbed quietly. This was not what she had hoped for.
I should never have demanded that he tell me of this thing between him and Tancred, she thought. I should have learned from our brief time together that when Richard doesn’t wish to speak of a thing, he stands firm in his resolve to remain silent.
When her tears abated, Arianne resolved not to question Richard on any matter again. She reasoned that men often found it necessary to shield their women from the harmful, ugly things of the world. Why should she expect any different from a gentle, kind man like Richard? Hadn’t he already shown her every concern?
Gathering her strength, Arianne sat up and wiped her eyes. If Richard returned, she decided, she would be nothing but the dutiful, respectful wife he deserved.
In time Richard did return. With him came a very humble George. The man brought a tray with food and drink and placed them near Arianne. Richard, with a lighthearted voice, spoke as if nothing had disturbed him from their earlier conversation.
