TO THE RESCUE
The sound of chaos from the other side of the house made Fraser look up abruptly. He'd been seated on his horse, straining to catch any trace the three woodsmen's incursion on the place .
When he heard a scream, he didn't stop to think. He rode straight to the gate.
“I demand entry!” he shouted at the guard. “Move, man! I need to go in.”
The guard seemed too surprised to disobey him, especially when he rode directly at him. He moved out of the way and shouted to the sentry on the wall. “Open up, Georges.”
Fraser rode in without another challenge.
When he reached the source of the chaos, he stared. He was just in time to see three men ride away. He saw a servant or a guardsman run to give chase, but the horse outpaced him, laughably-easily.
“What on earth is happening?” he shouted at the servant.
The man stared up at him, rendered incapable of speech, it seemed, in shock.
“Come on,” Fraser shouted, losing all patience. “Tell me.”
“Sir...the mistress...she...”
“She what?” he yelled.
“She's with them.”
“What?” He stared at the man in horror. Now it was his turn. He was speechless. He shook his head, completely shocked.
“I'm sorry to tell you, sir. But they rode off with her. Three men. We couldn't stop them.”
“What?” Fraser said again, and then his brain cleared and let him speak. “Are you serious? You let them get away? After them!”
“We...” The guards looked sheepish. “There aren't enough horses in the stable.”
Fraser swore. “You are unbelievable! Take whatever horses you have and follow me.”
They brightened considerably at the thought of his company. “Yes, sir.”
From a place utterly broken, the yard became abuzz with activity. The guards ran to the stables. There were two horses there.
“One’s...” They trailed off uncertainly. “One's hers.”
“So?”
“So she'd send us away if we rode her horse.”
Fraser laughed, despite his tension. “I believe it. Right, then. You,” he pointed at the guard who'd come forward when he had first arrived. “Come along.”
The guard nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“My lord,” Fraser corrected automatically. He rolled his eyes at himself. Why was he insisting on ceremony now? “Actually. Never mind. Come on!”
They rode away.
As he rode, Fraser felt his heart thumping. They headed across the yard and out through the back way, whence the men had also ridden. “How did they get in?” Fraser asked.
“Well, they came in the same way the villagers come in. Kitchen's open daily.”
Fraser swore. The fact that such a kind, generous woman had been betrayed made him more furious. He wanted to make these men feel this keenly. “Which way did they go?” he asked the guard.
“Along the road,” the guard said succinctly.
Fraser nodded, and they rode to follow it. “Can we go any faster?” he asked. He was worried. Very worried. His worst fear had come true. They had been planning all along. In addition, he knew which way they were going. To Corron.
That man intends her harm.
He swore again, and rode faster. He wanted to save the strength of his valiant horse – after all, if the men intended to reach Corron, they might be riding all day. They had to stop them!
“Where to now?” he asked as they stopped, looking for any indication of direction.
“I don't know, milord.”
“Which way is Corron?”
“That way,” the man said. His eyes narrowed, then widened. “You don't...”
“I don't know what to think,” he said quickly. “But yes. I do think. Who else would wish her ladyship harm?”
“You?” the man asked.
Fraser stared at him. “What?” For the second time that day, he was horrified.
The guard sighed. Fraser couldn't see him, for he rode ahead, his mount much stronger, but he heard the unhappy sound.
“Beg pardon, milord. But we all thought...We thought you wished her no good.”
Fraser sighed. He supposed he had taken liberties with the lady, and guessed her servants – if any of them had noticed that fact – would be protective of her and disapprove of him. But what could he do? “We need to find her,” he said. “I hope I can allay her fears on my account when I see her again.”
“I hope so too, sir.”
They rode north.
As they headed into a valley, they started to slow. Night had fallen and Fraser wanted to slow down to spare the horses.
“They'll stop somewhere?” he asked.
“They'll need to,” the guard replied. “Three of them, one carrying the lady? They won't make it to Corron just yet. And no one likes to travel here after dark.”
“Indeed,” the count replied. “So. If the group has stopped somewhere, whereabouts would it be?”
The man sighed. “Would they go to an inn, sir?”
Fraser snorted. “And arrive with the lady of Evreux held captive with them? Hardly, man.”
The guard looked upset. “Yes, sir.”
“Well, where then? We urgently need to find them. If we can't stop them before tomorrow morning, we've as good as lost her.”
“Yes, sir,” the man nodded. Then he frowned. “Should we go straight to Corron? Block the way?”
Fraser raised a brow. “Good thinking. If we can't find them in the next half an hour, we will do that.”
“Yes, Lord Count.”
Fraser and the man headed on into the woods. Fraser racked his brain. What would he do, if he had just abducted someone? Find somewhere in the woods and go to ground. But where?
He breathed in and sighed. Then he smelled it. Smoke. He looked at the guard, who nodded.
Fraser indicated they should dismount. The guard nodded. They silently swung to their feet. Then they walked forward through the woods.
Fraser breathed in, smelling the scent of the smoke. It was stronger now, indicating they were heading in the right direction. He shivered. They might be wasting time sneaking up on a charcoal-burner or a group of outlaws camping. Then again, this might be the men they pursued.
His suspicions were confirmed when the trees opened out into a trace of path. He realized that three horses could have ridden along here fairly easily. There were signs of recent passage – flattened bracken, the scent of broken twigs and fresh-moved leaf-mold.
“Sir, I...”
“Wait,” Fraser hissed. He breathed in and strained to listen. He could almost hear someone talking.
“We'll set out at first light,” a voice was saying.
It was so low-pitched, so quiet, as to almost escape his notice. However, he'd heard it. He held up a hand to the guard, who stopped in his tracks to listen too. Together, they stood and strained to hear the conversation around the fire.
“We'll stay here.”
“Yes.”
“Where is she?”
“In the barn.”
“Good.”
Fraser listened longer, but the men seemed to be settling down and said nothing for a while. He pointed in the direction from where the voices issued. The guard nodded. Fraser made a circling motion with his hand, indicating that they should approach from opposite sides. The man nodded again.
As they walked forward, Fraser heard his heart pound, and knew it was not fear, but tension. And anger. How dare they harm her? The thought of Bernadette alone and afraid in these woods, was too much for him. She was a brave, exemplary woman! How dare they think to reduce her this way? To hurt her!
I'll make them pay for this, so I shall.
He was so focused on the rage that he didn't notice when he walked out into the clearing. He could see the firelight and three forms around it. He froze.
“Hey, Berthold. Pass me that too...”
One of the other men chuckled. “Fine. Help yourself – you always were slow, Franc.”
The other man looked angry. “You shut your mouth. Or I swear...”
They all laughed. The affronted man laughed too. “Fine,” he said. He reached over and took whatever it was they were sharing around the fire.
Fraser stood and watched them, making a plan as he went. He had already made a vague outline of a plan when he sent the guardsman to encircle the camp with him. He glanced about. Over there!
Just behind the circle, perhaps eleven paces away, was the barn. A dark, squat silhouette, he had barely noticed it earlier. Now, he realized with some relief that his fellow was almost beside it. That gave him an idea.
Will he guess what to do if I start?
He was fairly sure he would. With that, he ran forward into the firelight, whooping and yelling.
The men jumped back in horror. He saw them recoil and then, one by one, they reached for their weapons.
“What in perdition?”
“It's one of them brigands.”
Fraser laughed insanely, making them all step back. Inside, he was coldly angry. He drew his sword and feinted at the first man. The man reached for his weapon and they clashed.
Fraser felt his blood rise with excitement. It had been too long since he visited the practice-ground. Since becoming the head of the family estate two years ago, he had almost never had time to attend practice. Now he recalled how much it excited him.
He was shouting, thrusting, gesturing with the sword. Two men ran at him and he started to fend them off, blood fizzling with excitement. He knew it was insane, that he was mad even to try and engage three men at once. However, he had to do it.
“The barn!” one of them shouted. Fraser swore as one of the men detached from the group and ran backward into the shadows beyond. He wanted them distracted here.
He made a gargling yell and ran after the man, temporarily ignoring the two he'd engaged. They were rooted to the spot in terror for a moment before they ran after him. Fraser would have laughed if he hadn't felt so desperate.
When in doubt, act crazy.
He remembered the man who’d taught him that, the dour old armorer who had worked for his father. He hadn't ever used that particular piece of advice before. Hadn't had to. Now he knew it worked.
“Yah!”
He was still screaming and capering when the two men turned to face him and he noticed the guardsman appearing from the barn. He had cut away the hinges of the door with his unsheathed dagger, and now he had a weight in his arms.
Bernadette,
Fraser's heart soared even as he felt desperation close in on him. At that moment, just as his assistant threw Bernadette over his horse and swung into the saddle, he heard a hunting horn.
The woodsmen. The real ones.
He wanted to cheer.
He took advantage of the distraction and ran toward his own horse. Vaulting into the saddle, he rode away.
Back to Evreux.