.

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ be searching for their camp till the last trumpet sounds. This will draw them out in no time.’

      ‘I’ll fire it, sir, but I’ll not leave you. Maurice is bound to see the smoke. He can raise the alarm.’

      ‘They’ll outnumber us.’

      Le Blanc shrugged. ‘Nevertheless, I’ll not be leaving you.’

       Chapter Nineteen

      Cecily pushed back the flap of the awning. Edmund was outside, arguing with Judhael.

      ‘It’s impossible, I tell you,’ Edmund was saying in exasperated tones. ‘So many are dead! And those that are left have fled or have no authority.’

      ‘What about old Morcar of Lewes, and Siward Edwardson—?’

      ‘You’ve just hit the nail on the head there, Judhael. They’re old. Both of them doddering, grieving for sons lost in battle. You’re mad if you think they carry any authority…’He caught sight of Cecily and lowered his voice, and Cecily could not catch the rest.

      Sighing, she wrapped her arms about her middle and went to peer in Philip’s basket. The baby was awake, on the point of dozing, a dribble of milk at the corner of his mouth for the wet nurse had just set him down.

      ‘Thank God you found Joan,’ Cecily muttered to Emma, who was still watching the men by the campfire. ‘Otherwise we’d be in for a sleepless night. I only hope we can keep him out of the draughts.’ Impulsively, Cecily gave her sister a hug. ‘I love you.’

      Emma turned, her eyes awash with tears. ‘It was not meant to be like this,’ she whispered, in a choked voice. ‘I—’

      ‘Judhael!’ A lookout cried out. ‘Prisoners!’

      Cecily was on her feet in an instant, the hairs lifting on the back of her neck. No…no!

      Four horses were being ridden into the encampment. Thank God, Cecily thought, on registering the riders’ flowing hair and beards, Saxons. No sign of Flame. For a moment she was giddy with relief. It was only Judhael’s scouts, coming home to roost for the night. There were no prisoners; the lookout had been mistaken…

      As the cavalcade rode slowly through the thickening dusk towards the campfire it was possible to make out that two of the horses did in fact bear high-backed chevaliers’ saddles, with pommels at the front. Cecily froze. Her countrymen thought horses too valuable to risk in fighting; they only used them for transport. And since Saxons fought on foot they had no use for such saddles…

      And then she saw him. Adam. Her heart lurched.

      Adam and another man were bringing up the rear. They had rope halters around their necks, but that was not the worst of it. Thick branches had been lashed across their arms and shoulders like yokes. With their arms forcibly outstretched, and the weight of their burdens unbalancing them, they were slipping and skidding in the mire. George. The man staggering alongside Adam was George Le Blanc. Their clothes were plastered with mud kicked up by the horses; their heads were bowed; their faces hidden.

      With a sob, Cecily gripped Emma’s arm and dragged her from the shelter. Gunni followed, close and silent as her shadow. The trees loomed up around the clearing, their trunks tall and dark in the twilight; the fire sputtered; torches flared.

      One of the scouts unwound the leash tying Adam and Le Blanc to his pommel and tossed it to Judhael. ‘Found a couple of strays by the beacon,’ he said, jumping down from his horse with a grin. ‘Thought you’d like to put them out of their misery.’

      Cecily stumbled nearer, but Emma hung on her arm like an anchor, and when their eyes met Emma gave her head a quick shake. Ignoring her, Cecily broke free and edged closer. She was not mad enough to think she was a match for Judhael and these men, but she had to get near Adam—she had to. There was room for no other thought.

      The torchlight flickered on his dark, rain-slicked hair. Adam, Adam, look at me, she pleaded silently. Let me see you’re not badly hurt. And then, while one of the Saxon scouts was busy muttering in Judhael’s ear, Adam lifted his head, and the flames from one of the torches flickered across his face.

      Her insides turned to water. Adam had been beaten; one of his eyes was swollen and half-closed, and those lean cheekbones were smeared with a dark substance that could either be blood or mud. His arms were stretched out, roped to the branch so roughly there was definitely blood at his wrists. Looking directly at her, he lifted his mouth in a lop-sided smile. He mouthed her name, ‘Cecily.’

      Edmund muttered at Judhael and drew Adam’s gaze. A slight narrowing of the green eyes told her Adam had marked Edmund’s unsplinted leg.

      ‘Emma,’ Cecily whispered, desperation putting wild ideas into her head. ‘Give me your eating knife.’

      ‘Don’t be a fool!’

      Cecily swallowed a groan. It was hopeless. What could one girl do with an eating knife? But she could not stand by and watch when—

      ‘Edmund tells me that you are Sir Adam Wymark,’ Judhael said, speaking in English. ‘The “hero” of Hastings and our self-appointed lord and master.’ He threw a disparaging glance at George Le Blanc. ‘This must be one of your Bretons. Only one? Odd—I’d heard you had a whole troop. Careless of you not to bring the rest with you today—have the others deserted?’

      A lock of dark hair flopped across Adam’s unhurt eye. He tossed his head to clear his vision, but the yoke on his shoulders unbalanced him, and he struggled to keep his footing in the mire. Someone laughed. Cecily’s nails dug into her palms.

      ‘Lost your tongue?’ Judhael asked. ‘Or can’t you understand me?’

      ‘I understand you,’ Adam replied. His English was heavily accented, but his voice was strong.

      ‘My man tells me you ran into his arms like a long-lost lover,’ Judhael said, folding his arms. ‘Now, why should you do that?’

      Adam stood as straight as a man could with his arms strapped to a wooden yoke. ‘I came for my lady.’

      Tears stung at the back of Cecily’s eyes, and the scene blurred. Oh, Adam, you idiot.

      ‘Your lady?’ Judhael’s voice was harsh, disbelieving. ‘You came for Cecily Fulford?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Liar—you think to trick me. The garrison at Winchester put you up to this. We know you were there this morning. You have come to try and discover where I have hidden the silver.’

      ‘No, but tell me where it is and I’ll be happy to pass the message on.’

      ‘Gunni!’

      ‘Judhael?’

      ‘Our guest doesn’t seem to realise he is in grave trouble. Bring it home to him, will you?’

      Rolling up his sleeves, Gunni clenched his fists. Cecily clutched Emma, and when Gunni drew his arm back to strike she flinched and shut her eyes.

      ‘So СКАЧАТЬ