By Queen's Grace. Shari Anton

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      “Thiscompanion you speak of must travel much to know of so remote a spot.”

      Corwin slid his hands from his riding gloves, thinking of Stephen, his best friend and Gerard’s youngest brother. Aye, Stephen liked to travel, rush headlong into one adventure after the other. Corwin had gleefully joined him on several of his journeys.

      “He does love to travel, more than most men I know.”

      Duncan huffed. “He must be a Norman, then, to have the coin and time to waste roaming about the land.”

      Stephen did, but on that particular journey Stephen had performed a valuable service for Gerard, and Richard, their half brother. Having acquired several new holdings in a court judgment, Gerard had given most of the land to his brothers. Stephen had offered to visit all the holdings, determine the condition of each, then report on which needed repairs or where the people needed immediate assistance.

      The Norman who’d previously owned the lands had been a cruel man, and Corwin saw firsthand how the peasants had suffered, then witnessed their joy when told they’d been placed under Wilmont protection. None had truly cared which brother became overlord. Each man had a reputation for fairness, even benevolence.

      True, most Normans looked to their own wealth and comfort and never noticed any hardship suffered by the people who provided for them. Telling Duncan that some Normans could be generous and honorable, however, wouldn’t aid Corwin’s ruse.

      “Aye, the Normans are a selfish, cruel race,” Corwin proclaimed. “‘Twas a sad day for England when King Harold lost the battle to Duke William of Normandy.”

      Duncan’s mouth twisted into a sneer. “When the bastard invaded England he killed or maimed all who would not submit to his rule, burned crops and forests and huts at will until those country folk left could barely survive. A sad day for England, indeed.”

      Corwin now knew with certainty from where Duncan hailed. Only in the far north had the Conqueror taken such drastic measures to bring the old Saxon earls to heel. Corwin’s ancestors hadn’t joined in any rebellion, but had accepted the Conqueror as king and pledged fealty to the man the new king declared their overlord. The transfer of power had been peaceful, so unlike the experience of Duncan’s family.

      Corwin laid a hand on his destrier’s neck, a fine example of Wilmont’s herd. He’d benefited greatly from Norman rule. Would he be less complacent if his ancestors had lost everything, if his Norman overlord had been less honorable?

      “This lord you follow, he has a plan to overtake the kingdom without any of the peasants suffering?” Corwin asked.

      “Aye. We must first be rid of King Henry. Then the barons will give way in due course.”

      Duncan, clearly, knew nothing of the ways of war and less of Norman barons. Even with the king vanquished, the Normans wouldn’t give way. Each would defend his strongest castle and challenge the Saxons for possession. A battle for the entire kingdom would be fought castle by castle, with the peasants suffering the most.

      “Father!” Oswuld cried out as he ran into the cave. “She is gone! Lady Judith-I cannot find her!”

      A cold fist gripped Corwin’s innards.

      “You were supposed to be guarding her!” Thurkill shouted.

      “I allowed her privacy to take relief and she slipped away.”

      Cursing himself roundly for not anticipating this attempt at escape, knowing which way he would go if in Judith’s situation, Corwin bolted out of the cave, hoping to get there ahead of her.

       Chapter Five

      She couldn’t find the path.

      With hands on her hips, Judith slowly turned in a full circle, looking carefully for any sign of her escape route. Four horses had ridden through this area not long ago, trampled down the grass and pushed aside brush. Thepath had to be here somewhere, and she must find it quickly before Oswuld noticed she’d fled.

      Her plan was a simple one. Find the road and head north toward whatever town lay ahead. Send someone to take word of the rebellion to Scotland. Enlist a trustworthy person to act as her guide to London. Surely her kidnappers expected her to flee south, back toward the safety of the abbey. But she could trick her kidnappers, if only. she could find the path.

      Judith wiped away the moisture gathering in her eyesfrom weariness. She wasn’t crying. She wasn’t afraid. She didn’t have time for either.

      She spun at the sound of rustling in the brush behind her. A small animal, gray-brown and furry, scurried into the heavier brush beyond. A squirrel, perhaps. Or a rabbit. Not a man.

      She blew out a long breath and struggled to regain her concentration. Nothing looked familiar, until she spotted a tree with two wind-snapped lower branches. Had she seen it before, during the ride to the cave? Aye, there, just beyond the tree the grass lay flat.

      She hiked up her robe to run down the path to freedom.

      “Judith!”

       Corwin.

      She stared at the path.Run! A useless effort. Corwin was too close. He would catch her in a trice. She unclenched her hands, letting the fabric fall. At the edge of her vision, she saw the glint of a sunbeam flash off his chain mail.

      Close. So very close to freedom.

      Once again, ‘twas Corwin who thwarted her. He would take her back to her captors, and they would watch her so closely now she might never get away.

      Corwin closed the distance between them, until he was so near she could reach out and touch him if she chose.

      “I beg of you, Corwin. Let me go,” she said. To her own ears she sounded desperate. Perhaps she was. She looked up into the azure eyes she’d once so admired, still considered beautiful. The eyes of a traitor. “Join the rebels if you wish, but I want no part of their scheme. Let them find another woman for their queen, one who believes in their cause. I have no heart for it.”

      He smiled, almost tenderly. “‘Tis not your heart they desire, Judith, but your name and womb. However, if someone asked me to choose a more perfect woman to make their queen, I could not come up with another’s name.”

      His flattery fell far short of whatever mark he hoped to hit.

      “Then you betray me again, force me to stay with the rebels.”

      “I cannot let you go, Judith.” He sighed. “I will try to explain—”

      Judith crossed her arms. “I heard your traitorous reasoning last eve, and have no wish to hear it again.”

      Corwin took a long, intense look around them. “I am no rebel, never will be.”

      Astonished and hopeful, Judith stammered. “But-but last eve you said. are you saying you have changed your mind?”

      “My mind is set on joining the СКАЧАТЬ