Chapter 18
Leaving the village, Rafe and Angelet took the south road. They now had a destination, and Rafe said he wanted to make as much progress toward Dorset as they could. The weather favored them at first. It was a fine spring day, the air soft and warm, and the sky clear. Angelet delighted in the scene passing by. Even in the worst situations, it was difficult to be downcast on a spring day.
Rafe wasn’t quite as at ease. He kept looking over his shoulder, though he tried to conceal his concern from her for most of the morning.
“Perhaps they’ve given up altogether,” Angelet suggested at last. “You’ve seen no signs of pursuit.”
“No,” Rafe said, but he sounded uncertain.
“Have you seen any signs?” she asked. “You don’t have to shield me, you know. I won’t faint…not from hearing bad news, anyway.” Was Rafe keeping information from her in some sort of attempt to keep her affliction from recurring?
“I haven’t,” he said, more firmly. “Nothing definite. But there’s a feeling I can’t shake, and when you’ve been followed as much as I have, it’s wise to heed that feeling.”
“Excuse me, but who’s been following you?” she asked.
“Never mind.”
Angelet nudged her horse with an ankle to bring her closer to where he rode. “Rafe, what aren’t you telling me? Why would someone be following you?”
He weighed his next words. “I’ve annoyed a number of people in the past few years.”
“Annoyed? You annoyed them enough to warrant being physically pursued? What did you do? Does this involve a woman?” Lord, maybe Rafe made a practice of seducing all the ladies he escorted from place to place. Though he did once mention that he usually didn’t do this sort of work. Still, he could have seduced some lady, and now her family was chasing him down to seek retribution.
“There’s no woman,” Rafe said. “This is entirely different.”
“Does it have to do with your competing in all those tourneys? Did you kill the wrong opponent?”
“No.”
“Is it a mistake of some kind? A misunderstanding or…”
“No, they understood perfectly what I did,” Rafe said, with a bitter laugh. “And so did I. But I did it anyway. Which is why I started competing in tourneys in the first place. It pays me and it gives me a reason to keep moving.”
“Moving away from Shropshire?” she guessed. “That’s why you didn’t want to go this way. You’re worried you’ll meet someone you wish to avoid. Who?”
“It doesn’t matter who,” he said. “And I won’t be interrogated by you. Just because you’ve seen more of me than most people, it doesn’t grant you any special rights to my past.” He nudged his horse to advance a few lengths ahead of hers.
Angelet didn’t try to catch up. The last thing she wanted was to anger the one person she was traveling with. If Rafe decided she wasn’t worth the effort, he could leave her right on the road. Who would ever know?
And in a way, he was right. Angelet and Rafe’s new intimacy didn’t come with any promises—just the opposite. The reason she accepted his offer was that it came with no hitches. The less she learned about him, the better. For both of them.
After a little while, Rafe looked over his shoulder, in that same gesture he’d done all morning, scanning the road behind them. But this time, he wheeled his horse around, and rode back. Angelet turned too, thinking he’d seen something. But there was no hint of anyone.
“What is it?” she asked.
Rafe looped around and came up to match her pace. “Nothing. But it was stupid of me to ride ahead of you when the danger is behind us.” He was once again the soldier, speaking of tactics, keeping all emotion out of his voice. “I won’t do it again.”
“I won’t ask you more about your past,” she said, hoping to soothe him. “It’s not as if I could alter it, so there’s no benefit in my knowing.”
Still, she was curious. What could Rafe possibly have done that angered someone enough to chase down and presumably drag him back to…wherever? Granted, Rafe showed a blatant disregard for the state of his soul when it came to certain sins, namely lust. But he also displayed an incredible amount of bravery and intelligence, and he never once hesitated when he needed to protect Angelet or anyone else in their party. And even his sinful side was actually rather chivalrous—he made his offer and then left it to her to accept it. He flirted and teased, but never took advantage of her. To Angelet, he seemed like a perfect knight.
“May I ask just one thing?” she said hesitantly.
“What?”
“The people who might be following you…do you think they’d hurt me?”
Rafe’s brow furrowed. Then, “No. I’d expect that they’d only want to get me. And not to kill. They’d take me back to—” He broke off, but his point was made. “You would be safe from them.”
“That’s good news, yes?”
“Yes.” Rafe fell silent for a few minutes. Then he said, “I’m sorry. I should have told you about…that complication.”
“You should have,” she agreed. “Though I suppose you knew it would have cost you the job. Otto never would have hired you and the others if he knew.”
“I was confident that whoever was after me would be deterred by the greater numbers of the escort. Overconfident,” he amended.
“Rafe, remember that those men who attacked us did mention taking me. And someone shot at me. So our first guess is still more likely.”
He nodded, but didn’t add anything.
“I truly didn’t mean to anger you,” she said. “Please don’t leave me.”
“Leave you?”
“You could. At the next town, or even here. I know that you’d prefer to be on your own, and now I understand a little better why that is.”
Rafe stared at her. “You think I’d leave you somewhere? As if you were a sack of onions?”
“Well, you could. It’s possible.”
“It’s impossible. You asked me to take you to your son, and then Anjou. I’ll do that unless one of us dies on the way.”
“Truly?”
“Yes, Angelet.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s what I’m supposed to do! That’s what a knight is.”
“Oh.” She smiled tremulously. “Then I’m glad I hired you to be my knight.”
He stared at her for a moment more, then laughed. “I hope so.”
They rode on, having restored their alliance.
But their luck with the weather did not hold. A cold wind from the west started to blow in the early afternoon, bringing heavy, blue-grey clouds along. Rafe kept a wary eye on the western horizon, and judged their few periods of rest very carefully. He was too well-trained a soldier to ride their horses to exhaustion, but they also needed to reach some shelter before the rain came.
However, the road was taking them through a particularly desolate patch of countryside. They saw no farms or homes, and the nearest village could be around the next curve in the road…or hours away.
Angelet kept quiet for the most part. Rafe was obviously on edge, and she could offer nothing to help them on the journey. The clouds grew darker and seemed to undulate, as if a huge wind stirred them from above.
When a few fat drops of rain spattered on the ground, Rafe cursed under his breath. Angelet winced when the rain hit her face, pulling her cloak more tightly around her.
“Rafe? What should we do?” she asked.
He looked at the horses, patting the neck of Philon. “We’re going to hurry,” he announced. “Match my pace. If we find a town before the horses tire, then good. If not, it won’t matter what shape the horses are in.”
Within moments, they were moving at a steady gallop. Angelet kept pace with Rafe. The horses began to kick up mud as the road grew wetter. They raced past trees and meadows and more trees, the rain always chasing them.
But the horses, however fast, could not outrun a storm, and soon the rain pelted down more fiercely.
After they’d covered perhaps two miles, Rafe called out for her to bring her horse to a halt. He did the same. The beasts slowed to a walk, panting heavily.
Angelet sighed. There was still no sign of civilization. And the rain still came down.
“What now?” she asked.
Rafe shook his head in frustration. “I don’t know. I’m afraid to press the horses when—” He stopped talking, and tilted his head up. The rain fell onto his face and his closed eyes. But then he smiled.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Can you smell that?”
She smelled only rain and wet earth.
“Smoke,” he said. “There’s some shelter along this road and it can’t be that far. Come on. I think we’ll be out of the rain soon.”
The time couldn’t come soon enough for Angelet. The rain never let up. By the time they reached the source of the smoke, which turned out to be a little town, Angelet was sopping wet and miserable. Rafe took one look at her and abruptly told her he’d take care of everything.
Indeed, within a quarter hour, she found herself in a small, warm, dry room with—praise Mary—a crackling fire. Rafe lost no time in stripping her of her wet clothes, then wrapping her up in a thick wool blanket from the bed. He sat her directly in front of the fire.
“Better?” he asked.
“Lord, yes. This is heaven.”
“The place looks a little humble for heaven,” Rafe said, bending over to kiss her. She was already warming up from the heat of the flames, and Rafe’s mouth was cool. His stubble scratched her.
“You need to shave,” she noted.
“Is that an order?”
“It wasn’t meant to be.”
Rafe stood up. “Listen, I’ve got to take care of a few things, but I’ll be back shortly. Stay there and warm up.”
He left the room, and only after the door closed did Angelet realize that he was still in his dripping wet clothes. He must be freezing.
She leaned closer to the fire, letting the warmth soak into her bones. How bizarre that she was here, in a town whose name she didn’t even know. She should be at Basingwerke by now, handing off a chest of gold and an embroidered cloth in order to beg the abbey’s physicians to heal her.
Angelet hadn’t thought of her affliction much over the past several days, even though it was the whole reason she started on the journey. True, she’d been rather distracted, and she had so much more to think of. At Dryton, she’d spend most of her days confined in a room, worrying about when the next vision would come and how much the aftermath would hurt. Now she thought about the road, and the weather, and who was trying to catch her, and who was trying to catch Rafe, and why Rafe wouldn’t tell her about his past, and why she wanted to know about his past in the first place.
But before she could fall too deeply into her thoughts, the door opened again. A maid entered, with a big clay pitcher of water. She was about twelve years old and wore her long dark hair in plaits. She put it carefully on the floor, then curtseyed awkwardly and gave a beaming smile to Angelet. “Welcome, m’lady. You can call for me if you need anything. I’m Martha.”
“I thank you, Martha,” Angelet said gravely, aware that she didn’t look a thing like a lady, huddling under a blanket while she sat on the floor.
But Martha acted as if she saw nothing odd about it. The maid gave a quick, very practiced look around the room, assessing the supply of firewood, the blankets, and the cleanliness of the room. Nodding in satisfaction, she turned on her heel and scooted out of the room.
A moment later, Rafe came in, carrying his sword and daggers, all in their sheaths.
“What did you have to do?” she asked.
“Rain isn’t good for armor or weapons. I had to dry them all off and re-oil the metal. One of the stable boys is getting an extra coin tonight. He sleeps in the loft above the stalls, and he’ll see that no one steals the armor from where he’s keeping it.” The weapons were clearly another matter. Rafe wouldn’t part with them for anything. He put the weapons down near one side of the bed, then moved to the wash bowl.
“What are you doing?” she asked, watching avidly as he stripped off his shirt.
Rafe held up a razor. “Shaving.”
Angelet stood up, wearing the blanket like a cloak. “You’re doing that for me?”
“Self interest,” he said. “I’ll get more kisses if my skin doesn’t scratch like sand.”
“Isn’t it curious how your self-interest always benefits me as well?” she asked, walking over to the bed, choosing the side opposite all the weapons. She didn’t want to trip over those things in the night. She sat and watched him as he shaved.
After he’d taken care of that, he peeled off the rest of his clothing and hung everything up to dry. Then he crawled into the bed, reaching for her with a smile. “What’s your first order, my lady?”
Angelet looked away, feeling shy. “That’s not a game we have to play. You were kind to indulge me once, but I never expected you to remain…subservient.”
He took one of her hands and kissed the palm. “I liked it.”
She sighed at the kiss, and he caught her shoulder in his other hand, lowering her back onto the bed.
“Why does it appeal to you?” she asked.
“Normally, it wouldn’t,” Rafe said. “Not at all. I offered myself that way because I didn’t think you’d accept any other way.”
“I wouldn’t have,” she said.
“Lucky for me, then. But the truth, Angelet, is that I’ll want you any way you care to have me. I’ll order, I’ll obey. I’ll be gentle, I’ll be rough. Whatever you like…just tell me.”
“Rafe, I hardly know what I like.”
“Then use me to find out.”
“For the time we’re together? Then what do I do with my newfound knowledge?” She didn’t mean to get contemplative, and Rafe must have heard the unwanted sadness in her voice.
“The only thing I know, Angelet, is that the future is hidden. There’s no point at all in worrying about what will happen. Just live for now. Tonight.”
She reacted by clutching at him with both hands, pulling him down to her.
“You’re right,” she whispered, her voice now husky with need. “Tonight we’re together. So my first order is for you to kiss my breasts. Show no favoritism. Lavish both with attention.”
He looked pleased with her request. “Yes, my lady.”
* * * *
The next morning dawned grey and misty. Rafe took one look outside and declared that the horses needed another day of rest. “And so do you,” he added, with a wink.
“As you think best,” she replied, imitating the tone of her mother-in-law, Lady Katherine. She’d heard the woman say that so many times to Otto, and all it meant was that Katherine knew Otto would do whatever he wanted, whether it was best or not.
Rafe, though, gave her a skeptical look. “Don’t start trusting me, my lady.”
They spent the day quietly, using the morning to discuss a more detailed plan to get Henry safely back with Angelet from where he was living in his foster family’s home. After that, Rafe checked on his armor and horses. He talked with the innkeeper and a few guests in the common room, inquiring about the roads to the south and west, and any news from London.
Angelet spent a large part of the day in their room, partly because Rafe worried her distinctive appearance would be noticeable in the day, unlike the night before, when the driving rain had observers scarce.
They spent the evening together again, and Angelet discovered a few more things she liked, especially when Rafe was the one to teach her about them. He confessed that his past contained more scandalous incidents than the one he wouldn’t talk about.
“And some of those encounters taught me a lot,” he explained with mock seriousness. “And now I can pass that knowledge on to you, my lady. Or a sliver of it, anyway. I know too much to teach you everything in the short time we’ve got.”
She laughed. “Rafe. I order you to shut up.”
He obeyed, but as it turned out, he could still do many things without talking.
* * * *
The next morning dawned soft and warm, leaving no opportunity to linger. They rode at a slower pace that day, a choice that turned out to be fateful. But all through the morning, Angelet’s spirits were high, and she looked out on the world with a renewed sense of hope.
After the cold and wind and rain, this was another true spring day, with a sky the color of a robin’s egg, marked only by streaks of thin, high clouds. Birds darted madly through the air, twittering and singing as if they’d only just discovered how to do it. They argued fiercely over branches and trees, all of which were now bursting into leaf, looking like a veil of green cast over the whole forest.
She smiled at Rafe whenever their eyes met, which was often. The path was clear and relatively straight, so he could relax, riding easily in his saddle.
Angelet watched him as they rode, noting things about him she’d missed at first. There was something essentially sad about Rafe. Even when he was acting at his most carefree, there was a tightness around his eyes, as if he could not forget something unhappy. She was certain the mysterious event in his past was to blame, but she was also certain he’d never speak of it to her, not ever, and so there was nothing she could do to relieve his sorrow.
They stopped to rest beside a stream running near the road, about fifty paces from the track itself. Angelet retrieved bread and cheese from the packs. She grabbed the wineskin for Rafe, but as it turned out, both of them preferred the water from the stream. Angelet dipped her hand into the cold, clear water over and over. “The rain must have filled all the streams with fresh water. This tastes better than anything I’ve drunk for years,” she commented.
Rafe murmured agreement, but he seemed distracted. He looked around, his bearing casual. But Angelet knew him well enough now to see that he was wary.
“What is it?” she asked quietly, not moving from her place at the side of the stream.
He didn’t answer for a moment, but then visibly relaxed, looking over at her. “Nothing. I thought I heard something out of place. I must be imagining it.”
“What did you hear?”
“Hooves.”
She stood slowly, hoping to catch a hint of the sound Rafe mentioned. She heard only birdsong and the breeze.
“It’s nothing,” he said again. “I tend to always be searching for signs…even when they’re not there.”
She accepted his answer, but started to grow uneasy.
They rode on, but an hour later, just after they rounded a bend in the road, he took hold of her horse’s reins and drew her aside, off the path.
“What is it?” she whispered after he helped her dismount.
“Hush.” Rafe’s expression was stone. He was alert, watchful.
Angelet kept as quiet as she could.
He waited, listening for something she couldn’t hear.
Finally, he put one finger to her mouth.
“Stay here,” he breathed, his lips at her ear. “Don’t move. Don’t say a word. I have to move, but I’ll come back. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Angelet was taut with fear, but she nodded once. She would keep silent and still while he flushed out their pursuer.
He stepped away and seemed to somehow vanish into the trees. How could a man like Rafe, who commanded attention, suddenly become invisible?
She remained where she was, her breathing shallow and unsteady. She tried to be calm, but how could she? Someone was stalking them, and Rafe was God knows where in the woods, and she was standing there like a simpleton, unarmed and unable to fight back.
I won’t let anything happen to you.
She repeated those words in her head, as true a prayer as anything she said in church. But what if something happened to Rafe? What would she do then?