Raven’s Rise Page 9

  The guard grunted, but didn’t lose his grip on the dagger.

  Rafe didn’t look as if he was worried in the slightest about Dobson’s bigger size and heft. “Drop it,” he advised. “I don’t want to kill you. I’ve got questions.”

  “You? Kill me?” Dobson growled. Then he attacked, wielding the dagger like a madman.

  Angelet was sure Dobson would soon win the fight. But Rafe was trained to a degree Dobson was not, and nearly every blow Rafe struck landed, while Dobson’s often went wide, as Rafe’s superior reflexes allowed him to dance out of the way.

  The two continued to struggle, until Rafe knocked the dagger out of Dobson’s grasp. It seemed like time had stopped, though less than a minute had passed.

  Dobson gave a roar and lunged for the dagger. Rafe got there first. At the last second, Rafe snatched up the dagger and plunged it directly into Dobson’s chest.

  Dobson’s eyes widened, but he made no sound. Rafe’s aim had been true, and the dagger blade pierced the heart. The off-white fabric of the man’s shirt turned into a vivid red, and a second later, Dobson’s body sank to the floor, his now sightless eyes staring upward.

  Angelet had seen death in her life, but never this violently, or this close. And yet, her first feeling was relief. It’s over, she thought.

  Rafe swiped the blood from the dagger with the edge of Dobson’s shirt. Then he stood up and glanced at the various shocked people in the room.

  “Tad was on watch with Dobson,” he said, very calmly. “Someone find him and get him in here. Now.”

  Laurence hurried out. Rafe turned to Angelet. Bethany had reached her and flung a blanket around Angelet’s shaking shoulders. It wasn’t just for warmth, but for modesty as well, since Angelet wore only her thin shift.

  “Should someone fetch your shirt, sir?” the maid asked as she shot a look directly at Rafe’s bare upper body.

  Angelet looked too. She couldn’t have avoided it, not when he was right there in front of her, still breathing fast from the short but vicious fight. Angelet knew she shouldn’t be staring at his perfectly conditioned torso, or his arms, or shoulders…every muscle starkly contoured by the light of the few candles in the room.

  “Bethany,” she whispered. “Please do that. Fetch his clothes. Immediately.”

  The maid left and returned with Rafe’s shirt, which he pulled on. Not that it mattered now. The image of him was seared into Angelet’s mind.

  “What happened?” Rafe scarcely raised his voice, as if this was an ordinary conversation and there wasn’t a dead body at his feet. “Angelet? I need to know.”

  “I…I’m not sure. I wasn’t sleeping well, and I heard a noise, and I woke up to find someone here in the room. I asked who was there, and he rushed toward me. I didn’t even see who it was, but he capped his hand over my mouth. To keep me quiet, I thought. But his hand was over my nose, too, and I could barely breathe.”

  “Then what?”

  “I bit the hand. Then I screamed. That woke Bethany. She screamed and ran from the room.”

  “To get help,” Bethany added. “I pounded on the door next to ours.”

  “That’s true,” Simon confirmed. “The screams woke us, but the pounding on the door got us all up. But by the time we reached this room, you had already got here, sir.”

  Rafe nodded, then turned back to Angelet.

  “So, from when Bethany left to get help, what happened?”

  She shuddered, thinking of it. “Dobson had his hand on my mouth again, and I knew it wasn’t to keep me quiet. He meant to suffocate me. I just kept trying to get free of him, and trying to breathe. Then you were there, and you pulled him away. You know the rest.”

  Rafe looked down at the body in disdain. At a word, Simon and Marcus hauled the body out of the room. Immediately after that Laurence came back with a rather disheveled-looking Tad at his heels.

  “Found him sleeping, Sir Rafe,” Laurence reported. “Seems even the commotion didn’t wake him.”

  “Sleeping. When you were supposed to be on watch.” Rafe’s gaze was cold. “Tad, explain what the hell happened. Where were you?”

  Tad shuffled his feet and said, “I had rather more ale than usual, Sir Rafe. About an hour into the watch, Dobson told me I was nodding off…he said I should just go early to bed, and he’d rouse the second watch himself.”

  “Leaving him alone and unobserved to sneak into the room and try to steal the gold from the chest. God damn.”

  “I swear I didn’t know what he was up to! I’d never have gone along with it!” Tad looked utterly ashamed, and every time his gaze fell on Angelet, he dropped his eyes to the floor. “What’s to be done with me, Sir Rafe?”

  Rafe glared at him. “I’ll think on it. Meanwhile, get back to bed and stay out of trouble.”

  “Yes, sir!” Tad was out of the room faster than Angelet had ever seen him move.

  Rafe pointed toward the empty basin. “Bethany, please go draw some fresh water from outside. Now.”

  The maid hurried out of the room once more. Rafe ordered the men still there to take the body out, then turned to Angelet. His expression was far more concerned than before. “Are you all right?” he asked in a low voice. “Truly?”

  “Yes. He didn’t manage to harm me.”

  “What about your condition? Did what just happened…will it trigger anything?”

  “I don’t think so. But it’s possible. I’ll tell Bethany to watch me carefully.”

  Rafe sighed. “Jesu. You seem to be in danger both from within and without.”

  “The seizures are rare.”

  “But could happen anytime,” he said. “And even if you do not suffer from that, we cannot forget that one person has tried to kill you to get at the gold. There could be another.”

  She shivered. “You’re probably correct.”

  “I need to think of some way to lessen the risk.”

  “How?”

  “I’ve no idea,” he admitted. “Give me the night, and with luck some saint will slip the answer in my brain by morning.”

  “I’ll pray for your success.”

  He gave her a tiny smile. “However you wish to use your lips on my behalf, I won’t complain.”

  “Rafe!” she scolded. The blood still surging through her veins after the terror she’d been through now heated up at his innuendo. Terror and excitement felt very, very similar, she realized.

  His eyes widened in mock innocence. “What? Did you think I meant something besides prayer?”

  Her cheeks burned. “I know what you meant. You’re—”

  “Incorrigible. Yes, I know. It’s part of my charm.”

  “How can you joke after…”

  “Killing a man?” Rafe shrugged. “He was a killer himself. Should I weep over him?”

  “I don’t know,” she whispered.

  Rafe’s expression cooled. “It was his life or mine. The whole point of being my own master is that I decide my fate.”

  She tried to reach out, to tell him she didn’t blame him for what happened. “I didn’t mean—”

  But he shook her hand off his arm. “Get some rest, my lady. We still have a long way to travel.” Then he left.

  * * * *

  Angelet didn’t think she’d sleep again after what happened. Even Bethany, in a hushed voice, asked to shove her pallet next to Angelet’s so the women might sleep next to each other. Angelet agreed instantly, feeling there was some sort of safety in that. She woke in the morning to find that she had slept after all, and this time, blessedly, she remembered no dreams.

  In the tavern room below, the mood among the men-at-arms was grim. From the fragments of conversations Angelet overheard, everyone was perturbed by Dobson’s attack on her life. Even the few who muttered that a man might break his oath and steal so much gold were still aghast that one man went beyond theft to attempted murder.

  “But not Dobson,” one of the men muttered to his companion. “He served Otto since they were boys!”r />
  Rafe finished his breakfast quickly and stood up. He gestured to Simon and Angelet. “Come along, please,” he said.

  Curious, Angelet followed as Rafe walked to her personal carriage, where the chest had just been loaded. Laurence was there, guarding it.

  “Simon,” Rafe said curtly. “We’re going to move the chest from Lady Angelet’s carriage to the supply wagon. Laurence, keep an eye on the inn. I don’t want everyone to see what we’re doing. My lady, keep an eye on us the whole time to reassure yourself we’re not tampering with anything.”

  She nodded, relieved that the chest would be further away from her on the journey.

  It didn’t take long for the two men to wrestle the chest out of her carriage and onto the ground. They grunted as they hefted it up and walked it back to the supply wagon. Angelet went ahead to clear a space for it.

  “Move the hay aside,” Rafe grunted.

  She clambered up and pushed at the loose hay meant for emergency animal feed. The men lifted the heavy chest up and slid it over, nearly pinning Angelet to the wall of the wagon in the process. She yelped in surprise when the corner of the chest hit her right ankle. “Ouch!”

  “Apologies, my lady!” Simon said.

  “No matter.” Without being told, Angelet started to replace the hay over the chest, helping to conceal it from casual view. When she was done, she was on her knees, with straw all over her skirts, but she felt much better.

  “Well done, my lady,” Rafe said, from behind her. “Come, I’ll help you out of there.”

  She edged backwards and then felt his hands on her waist as he helped lift her out and set her on the ground. She sensed the strength in his arms, and momentarily forgot what she was going to say when her gaze caught his eyes.

  He looked her over from top to toe, then said, “You’re missing a shoe, my lady.”

  “What?” That wasn’t what she expected to hear. She looked down. Her right slipper was gone. “Oh. I must have lost it when the chest hit my foot.”

  “Do you want me to retrieve it for you?” he asked.

  It was probably buried under hay. “No, thank you. I have another pair that will serve.”

  “Very well. Then let me walk you back to your carriage. You can set it to rights before the others get called from inside.”

  He helped her into her carriage, once again distracting her with his nearness and the simple touch of his hand in hers. She didn’t ever remember being so aware of a man, and definitely never in a way that created such a buzzing in her body.

  She worked to restore the carriage to its proper order, covering the place where the chest had been with a few more boxes and cushions. “There. No one should see any change. Except Bethany. She’ll notice soon enough, since she’s traveling with me.”

  Rafe said, his expression intent, “Shall I tell her she’s to go elsewhere?”

  “That negates her purpose,” Angelet replied.

  “No one will be able to threaten your honor while the carriage is in motion, guarded by soldiers,” Rafe pointed out. “I’ll instruct the girl to find a spot elsewhere while we are actually traveling. Then you can enjoy some solitude.”

  He returned to the inn, presumably to do exactly that.

  When Bethany came out a moment later she frowned, looking Angelet over with a critical eye. Angelet was painfully aware that her gown was scattered with bits of straw snared in the wool, and she was still missing a shoe. She looked very much as if she’d been, well, rolling in the hay.

  “Sir Rafe informed me that you would not need companionship today.”

  Angelet felt embarrassment and rage flare up inside, but she kept her face blank. “Correct.”

  “You can’t just tell me where I’m to sit or walk!”

  Suddenly Rafe stood near them. He said, “Lady Angelet made her wishes clear. Now, Bethany, you may walk, or ride on the back of one of the carts, or ride if there’s a spare beast for it. Don’t bother the lady until she calls for your service.”

  Bethany gaped at Sir Rafe, who towered over her, his expression cool. His hand rested lightly on the pommel of his sword.

  It dawned on her that there was no hope for negotiation with the black-clad knight, and she had no standing to argue. She whirled around and stalked off.

  Rafe gave Angelet a little wink. “Satisfactory?”

  “Quite. Thank you.”

  “Just following orders, my lady. I’ll do anything you ask of me.” His tone was light and teasing, but heat shot through Angelet.

  There was no way he’d chosen those words by chance. He was reminding her of his scandalous offer. If only the idea of him following her every order didn’t sound so interesting.

  Rafe still stood there, apparently waiting for something. Oh, yes. He’d asked a question while she was daydreaming.

  “Repeat that?” she asked.

  “Did you need anything else before we depart? We’ll ride until dark, or until we find a suitable place to stay the night.”

  “Oh. No, thank you. I don’t want…anything…” she trailed off. She wanted so many things, and she’d get none of them. “Wait! There is one thing.”

  “Yes?”

  “I forgot to tell you last night.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “You remembered something?”

  “No. I just meant I should have told you…thank you. For saving my life.”

  He looked surprised for a moment, then gave her a half-smile. “Live to serve.”

  She retreated into the carriage, sinking into the cushioned seat. She reached out only to pull the curtains closed. She needed to be alone and unobserved for a little while, so she could recover her normal calm demeanor.

  Lord, someone tried to kill her last night, and here she was dreaming of Rafe as though nothing had changed. Yet, despite everything she knew about his personality, Rafe was the one person she felt she could trust.

  Chapter 11

  Angelet enjoyed the relative peace that riding alone in the carriage offered her, though nothing dulled the monotony of travel, especially as the surroundings grew wilder, with almost no villages or farms along the way.

  That evening was the first time they were forced to make a camp. The road had become lonely, with no hint of any village or manor in the vicinity. Laurence had ridden on ahead of the group just to be sure, and brought back the news that the group would have to make its own shelter.

  The men all worked to set up the camp, relying on Sir Rafe’s instructions for nearly every element. The single large tent was set up for Angelet and Bethany. There were several more smaller, simple ones for the men, although the sky was clear and fine, and the air quite warm, even with the sun sinking low.

  Angelet was contemplating the effect of the setting sun through the young leaves, thinking it looked just like the stained glass windows in a church, when Bethany interrupted her.

  “Where is the chest?” Bethany demanded. “I looked in the carriage and it wasn’t there!”

  Angelet said, “After what Dobson tried to do, Sir Rafe thought it best to move the chest.”

  “Moved to where?”

  “That is hardly your concern.” She looked the maid over. “It is quite safe, and there the matter ends.”

  “I’ll tell Lord Otto you disobeyed him!”

  “You mean after I’ve gone to a nunnery, where I’ll be subject only to the rules of the Church? Carry your tales to whomever you wish. It matters not to me.” Angelet laughed. For years, the greatest threat anyone at Dryton could offer was to alert Otto that something might displease him. Such a threat was meaningless now.

  Bethany realized the same thing. She pursed her lips, then said, “How do you know Sir Rafe isn’t going to steal it himself?”

  “At this point, I’d give the chest over to anyone who came to take it,” Angelet said wearily. “It’s brought us nothing but trouble.”

  The maid nodded. “Who knew Dobson would be so vicious? He’s Otto’s man, after all, here on the lord’s orders.
Otto asked him special. Excuse me, my lady. I have to take care of something before it gets dark.”

  Bethany hurried off. Angelet watched her go with idle interest, since she had nothing better to do. But when she saw Bethany actually leave the camp and walk purposefully off into the woods in the direction of a large hill to the north, she wondered just what the maid was up to. Surely she didn’t want to climb a steep slope simply for a call of nature.

  Without telling anyone else, Angelet began to follow the maid. The underbrush was more or less completely leafed out now, obscuring much of the ground, and Angelet had to move quickly to keep on Bethany’s trail.

  She clambered over a few rocks and tried to keep pace, although the path was fast turning from dirt to rock and making her progress more difficult as she slowly got closer to the hill’s summit.

  She paused from time to time, listening for the crash of Bethany’s steps up ahead. She was fairly certain she was still on the right path—she hadn’t seen any other trails diverge from this one.

  The trail flattened out for a short stretch, along a natural clearing, and she got an unimpeded view of the rapidly darkening eastern sky. The valley below was already in shadow. In a few minutes, the woods she just passed through would be much harder to navigate. Perhaps she ought to return…

  “But where did Bethany go?” she muttered, looking ahead once more.

  All of a sudden, she felt someone grab her hand from behind. She whirled, about to scream, when she saw it was Rafe. A very annoyed Rafe.

  “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Rafe demanded. “After what happened, you should know better than to be alone. Ever.”

  “There’s no one around but us!”

  “You don’t know that,” Rafe said tersely. “Until you’re safely to Basingwerke, my lady, we have to assume that you’re in danger.”

  “You think like a soldier,” she said.

  “I am a soldier.”

  “Well, I’m not and I won’t live looking over my shoulder.”

  “You don’t have to, Angelet. I’m going to watch over your shoulder whether you like it or not. Now tell me what possessed you to wander away from camp just now.”