The gatehouse rose directly before them. Hew led his own mount from where it had been hidden in the shadows by the wall, and climbed quickly into the saddle. He retained his hold on Lily’s reins, sending her an enigmatic look. He did not trust her, either.
Maybe, she thought bitterly, when you had betrayed as many people as Hew had, it was difficult to trust anybody.
“We will ride to the coast,” he told her calmly, as they passed into the deeper shadows beneath the gatehouse. “Find a boat. We can sail north to Malcolm. ’Tis safer and quicker than going over-land.”
“As you say.” Lily was empty. She felt as if she were leaving her future behind. With Radulf.
Why had she not trusted him when she had the
chance? If she had, she would not now be in this dangerous situation. Though he was her enemy, Lily had never felt as if her life was at risk when she was with Radulf.
Hew was a different matter.
As if he had read the name in her mind, Hew muttered, “I wish I had more men. I would have killed Radulf, taken him in the throat with your dagger, while he slept.” He turned and grinned at her, sharing his evil joke. “Or I would have woken him first, and let him see your face so that he could understand the trick we had played upon him, before he died.”
Lily closed her eyes. She saw Radulf, too, but not as Hew described him. He stood before her, dark eyes warm and shining, sensuous lips smiling. She took a shaking breath.
All at once there was a clink of metal; the soft scrape of a sword being drawn from its scabbard.
Hew moved sharply, pulling his horse around to face the danger.
And the night split apart.
Men came running at them from all sides, voices roaring. Moonlight glinted on armor and sharp edges.
Hew yelled, “Lily! Run!” and slapped the flank of her mare. But instead of bolting, the mare screamed in fear and outrage, and rose up on her hind legs. Lily had no time to cling on. She was thrown into the chaos about her, and hit the ground hard.
The impact took her breath away. She lay in a tangled heap of wool and linen, her cheek sunk in mud. Somewhere to her right Hew whipped his terrified horse back, through the gateway, toward the monastery buildings. A furious gaggle of Norman soldiers pursued him into the darkness.
Two big, hard hands fastened about Lily’s waist, hauling her to her feet. She swayed, and was steadied.
Slowly, feeling as if this were a bad dream, Lily raised her head to confront her captor.
He was well suited to bad dreams. He towered over her, his big body made bigger by his hauberk, his massive chest rising and falling with each harsh breath. She couldn’t see his face properly because of the helmet, only the glint of his eyes.
She was profoundly glad for that.
“He was right,” growled a deep, familiar voice.
“You should have run.”
Lily said nothing. Her body was bruised and winded, her head ached, and the cold fear of her capture had numbed her until even her breath was no longer warm enough to cloud the night air.
“My scouts noticed that the rebels had been following us since Grimswade,” said Radulf. “I wondered why.”
“And now you know.”
“Now I know.”
“My lord!” One of Radulf’s men had returned, his shoulders bowed with defeat. “We lost him.”
Radulf’s eyes remained fixed on Lily. “Keep looking.” He stepped forward and gripped her arms, pulling her hard against him. Lily was instantly aware of his body heat and his great strength. They were no longer comforting.
“You are no Norman lady.” His voice was low and menacing. “You were never traveling home from the border to Rennoc. I sent Jervois ahead to speak with Edwin and he returned yesterday. Edwin’s daughter Alice is safe at Rennoc. I knew about your lies, lady, before we set out for Trier. I asked you for the truth and you would not give it—”
“I could not,” Lily whispered, pushing her hands against the chain mail. “Do not punish Alice for any of this. She knows nothing of it.”
“Who are you?” Radulf demanded, and his fingers gripped her own so angrily that the hawk ring cut into her flesh. Lily cried out.
