Making sure that none of the retreating attackers took lethal advantage of Thayer’s inattention, Roger kept pace with him. He noticed that it was not only Gytha’s captor who paled as Thayer hurtled towards him. Margaret, Edna, and the pages did as well. Any sane person, Roger mused, would be frightened by the advance of so much fury. He was relieved when Thayer finally checked his murderous charge.
Thayer grasped enough sanity to halt before he ran into the man holding Gytha. The way her captor had shifted her limp form to shield himself completely had cut through rage’s blinding force. Thayer stood glaring at the man, his sword held at the ready, and ached to bury that finely honed blade deep into the one who had struck his wife.
“Careful,” Bek murmured, acquainted with the rage, though rare, that twisted his father’s face. “The mistress is his shield.”
“Aye,” snapped Thayer. “The dog cowers behind her skirts. Come out, you craven slug, and deal with me as a man.”
“I wish to yield.” The man looked towards the calmer Roger. “I wish to yield.”
Gripping Thayer’s arm to halt any rash moves, Roger ordered, “Toss your sword aside then.”
After a brief hesitation, and still clinging to Gytha, the man threw his sword at Thayer’s feet. Thayer shook with the urge to kill, but he let Roger pick up the sword and move to the man’s side. Without a word, Thayer sheathed his sword, then took Gytha from the trembling man. Picking her up in his arms, he went to his tent. Even as he gently placed Gytha on her cot, Margaret and Edna hurried into the tent.
Looking down at Gytha, Edna ordered, “See to your wounded, m’lord. ’Tis but a knock on the head.”
“Are you certain?”
“Aye, m’lord. See? She already stirs. We can tend to her.”
Thayer stared at Gytha for a moment. He had to fight his panic over how still, how wan, she looked. Edna was right. Gytha was already stirring, her brow creasing as her thoughts awoke. Turning sharply on his heel, he strode out of the tent and almost knocked down a waiting Roger.
“How many have we lost?” he snapped, heading straight towards their only prisoner.
“Two are dead. Three were hurt, but not badly. It was foolish of the women to wander off like that, but their warning saved us.” As they halted before the prisoner, Roger murmured, “You will learn naught if you kill him.”
“Nay, I will not kill him.” Thayer glared at the cowering man. “Your name.”
“John Black, m’lord.”
“Who sent you here, John Black?” When the man hesitated in answering, Thayer cursed. “I shall have the skin from your bones—strip by strip.”
“We were in your cousin’s hire, m’lord.”
“Robert Saitun?”
“Aye, though t’was his uncle who ordered us.”
Grabbing the man by the front of his heavily quilted jupon, Thayer snarled, “You will return to my dear cousin Robert and that slinking dog who leads him. You will advise them to fade from my sight. I have no stomach for killing my own kin but, by God’s bones, I will find it if I catch sight or scent of them.” He tossed the man aside. “Cut three fingers from his sword hand,” he ordered the men guarding the prisoner, “then send him on his way.” He started towards the water barrels, closing his mind to the man’s pleas and his screams as the order was carried out.
“The mistress?” Bek hurried to fill a bucket of water for his father.
“Edna assures me ’tis but a mild knock on the head.”
Roger smiled his thanks when Bek fetched water for him as well. “Is that why your punishment was so mild?”
“Nay.” Thayer sighed as Bek helped him shed his upper clothing. “The man only did as commanded. ’Tis plain he checked his blow when he struck Gytha. He but wished to still her thrashing. I saw that, once the blazing red of fury had cleared.”
With Bek’s help, Roger also bared his torso. “Was it wise to warn Robert or his cur of an uncle?”
Shrugging, Thayer began to wash. “Who can say? It was in my head that this was but a blind, unthought lunge. Robert wanted Gytha. I saw the look in his eyes when I was named bridegroom. Then too, he is my only kin aside from Bek here. I have no real wish to cut him down. That uncle of his was the one behind this. I know it. He wishes Robert to hold all, and he may be willing to try any means to see to that. We must keep a closer guard. I have no wish for the tale of my death to be true next time ’tis told.”
“Especially when there is so much to live for,” Roger murmured, flicking a glance towards Thayer’s tent.
“Aye.” Thayer could not stop himself from looking that way as well as he dried himself off.
“She was the one to see the man enter the tent,” explained Bek. “She pushed the other two ladies to safety.”
“And got herself taken,” grumbled Thayer.
