Blood Moon (5 page)

He looked down at the man
dispassionately. “A pity.”

She stared at the knight. It was a pity
as far as she was concerned that the poor man had had the
misfortune to be left to the knight’s tender mercies. The knight
was an attractive man, dark as the devil, but still somewhat above
the ordinary in looks, and obviously of high birth. Perhaps that
accounted for his callous disregard for the life of a low born
soldier, but she found she could not credit that as being entirely
the case. Plainly, he had no care for his fellow man, whatever
their rank. He exuded a sense of superiority in every look, word,
and gesture that made it impossible to appreciate his good
looks.

She shivered and looked away as the
knight transferred his gaze from the dead man to her, unwilling to
encourage the man’s obviously overwhelming conceit by allowing him
to interpret her gaze as an interest in him.

Stepping to the door, he summoned the
men who’d brought the man in and told them to ‘remove the carcass
and find a place to plant it before it began to offend all and
sundry by its stench.’

Aslyn’s lips curled in distaste at the
crass comment. She turned away, dismissing him as she returned to
the task of setting the cottage to rights. The knight followed her,
placed a heavy hand upon her shoulder. She glanced down at it, up
at his face, and then moved away, turning to face him.

He held out a couple of coins. “For
your trouble.”

Aslyn stared at the coins, but she did
not reach to take them. “I did nothing,” she said dismissively.
“More’s the pity.”

He dropped the coins on the rickety
table. “For your inconvenience then.” He looked around the cottage,
assessing it. “I am Algar of Remey. My men and I are camped nearby
on the King’s business. If you have need of our service, you need
only send word …. Lady…?”

Aslyn’s heart thudded dully with alarm.
“I’ve no claim to the title of lady. I am Aslyn … of
Mersea.”

His black brows rose. “And your
husband? Is he about?”

Aslyn felt the blood leave her face.
Any hope she’d nursed that he was only mildly curious vanished. His
intentions became frighteningly obvious and he had blocked the only
avenue of escape. “Not at the moment.”

He laughed, moved toward her. Aslyn
backed away, but he followed her step for step until she was
pressed back against the sod wall with nowhere else to go. “I was
told you were unwed. Why, I wonder, would you lie to me?” he
murmured huskily.

“Because your attentions are
unwelcome?” Aslyn responded coldly.

“Are they?” he asked with a mixture of
amusement and disbelief.

“They are,” Aslyn said tightly, wedging
her hands between them and trying to push him away.

He lifted a mailed hand, running it
lightly along the pulse pounding with fear in her throat. “This
little flutter gives your lie away.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to
inform him that it was most certainly not desire that sped her
heartbeat, but another voice intruded at that moment.

“Fear and revulsion do not equal
desire, Algar.”

The knight stiffened at the cold voice,
the smile freezing on his face. Slowly, he turned toward the man
standing in the doorway of the cottage. He stepped away from Aslyn,
his body taut as he faced the man he obviously perceived as a
threat. “Kale. What brings you here?”

Aslyn didn’t know whether she was more
stunned or relieved at the huntsman’s timely arrival. Relief seemed
uppermost. Still, she wondered at it. The knight had not been a
part of the huntsman’s party when she’d seen him earlier on the
road to town. Perhaps they were part of a larger group, however,
for neither seemed very surprised to see the other.

“The King’s business. And
you?”

“The same.”

A cold smile curled Kale’s lips. “The
King set you upon the business of assaulting his
subjects?”

Algar’s face turned a deep hue, but he
forced a smile, lifted his brows as if he’d no notion of what Kale
was suggesting. “I’ve caused the lovely Aslyn no harm, have I my
dear?” he asked, his gaze flickering momentarily to Aslyn. He
didn’t wait for Aslyn’s response, which was just as well. “I’ve
discovered a flower amongst the weeds and thought only to pluck it
… if she, too, were so inclined, of course.”

“She did not appear overly enthusiastic
to me.”

Agar laughed, obviously genuinely
amused. “Who can know the mind of a woman when they do not even
know their own mind? We had barely … begun to warm to the subject.
I can be very … persuasive.”

To Aslyn’s relief, Enid peered timidly
around the huntsman’s shoulder at that moment. “Aslyn?”

The men turned to look at
her.

Obviously alarmed, she took a step
back. “Beg pardon, my lords.” She looked at Aslyn questioningly.
“Should I come back later?”

“They were just leaving,” Aslyn said,
striving to keep the hopeful note from her voice and
failing.

Algar chuckled again. “We have been
dismissed. Perhaps you were wrong and the lady misliked your
interference?”

The huntsman’s gaze locked with her
own. However appreciative she was, though, Aslyn had no intention
of antagonizing Lord Algar by favoring Kale, nor allowing him to
know how thoroughly he had shaken her.

Lord Algar grasped Aslyn’s hand and
lifted it to his lips, breathing deeply, as if savoring the scent
of her skin, before he brushed the back of her hand with his lips
in a light salute. “I will bid you good eve … for now.”

Aslyn snatched her hand back, clutching
the folds of her gown, resisting the urge to rub the feel of his
lips from her hand. She watched as Lord Algar strode from the
cottage, her chest tight with anxiety over his parting
remark.

Kale, after studying her a long moment,
turned and departed, as well.

Aslyn’s shoulders slumped. Her knees
felt suddenly weak, but there was no place nearby to
sit.

“Is something amiss?”

Aslyn shook her head. She had not
thought she would be so glad to see the woman again so soon. As
kind as she was, Enid was a bit of a chatter box and Aslyn, who had
spent more time alone over the past three years than with company,
found the almost ceaseless chatter unnerving … not nearly as nerve
wracking, however, as Lord Algar. “Not now.”

Enid moved into the room, glancing
about the cottage speculatively. “The landlord was happy to accept
the terms—not much chance to lease a cottage now. I feel I should
have bargained harder, however. The cottage looks worse inside than
out, if possible.”

Relieved to have something else to turn
her mind to, Aslyn shrugged. “A thorough cleaning and a little
patching should make it comfortable enough to suit my needs.” In
truth, she didn’t care what the cottage looked like. It was more
comfortable than she often had, and, in any case, she had no
intention of lingering long in the town, particularly not with
soldiers camped nearby.

Enid frowned. “Jim’ll not be up to it
any time soon. I’ll ask about. I’m sure I can find someone who
would willingly trade repairs for your services.”

“That would be welcome, but don’t worry
about it if you cannot. It should be tight enough to hold me for a
bit unless it rains. I can mix some daub and fill the crevices in
the walls. The thatch might present a problem,” she added, frowning
as she looked up at the thin patches on the roof where light
filtered through here and there.

“You’ve no wood for a fire, either.
You’re like to freeze in this doughty place without a good fire to
warm you. Jim and I’ve settled in the cottage that was my mum’s
before she died, God rest her soul. It’s just across the way there,
on the next road over. I’ll have Jim bring a bit of wood over and
get you a fire going to chase the damp away.”

The scrape of boots at the door step
drew their attention. Aslyn glanced around quickly, more than a
little fearful the dark knight had returned. To her surprise, the
huntsman stood in the doorway, his arms laden with freshly chopped
wood. She hoped that didn’t mean that the king’s men were camped
nearby, but knew even as the thought formed in her mind that it was
a forlorn one. He had not been gone long enough to have gone far.
It took little imagination to envision all the king’s men settled
upon her doorstep for the duration of the winter.

Mayhap she’d been a little too hasty in
deciding to stay, even for a short time.

Enid’s brows rose almost to her hair
line as he favored Aslyn with a curt nod, moved to the hearth, and
set about building a fire.

Aslyn blushed fierily at the curious
look Enid sent her. She supposed his actions were out of kindness,
but it disconcerted her mightily that he moved about the place with
the familiarity of one who belonged. She could not encourage it.
She did not want, and certainly could not afford, to become too
closely acquainted with anyone ... not Enid, and most assuredly not
the huntsman, whose piercing gaze seemed to miss nothing. “I’m most
appreciative, but….”

Again the scrape of feet brought
Aslyn’s attention to the door. She broke off abruptly when she saw
a young soldier stood in the opening, holding a pair of candle
sticks. “With Lord Algar’s compliments.” Moving to the table, he
set them down, then turned, bowed and departed, all before Aslyn
could jog her surprised mind for a polite refusal.

“Wait!” Aslyn called to the soldier’s
retreating back. He neither slowed nor turned, much to Aslyn’s
indignation. “I can’t take these….”

Enid snickered.

Aslyn glared at her. Kale, she saw when
she glanced in his direction, was frowning at the smoldering fire
on the hearth.

“I see you’re in a fair way to getting
settled in so I’ll just leave the basket I brought you and be on my
way.”

Aslyn grasped Enid’s arm, giving her a
pleading look. “Stay … a moment.” She cast about in her mind. “How
is your husband fairing?”

Enid relented, hiding a smile as she
gave in to Aslyn’s silent plea. “Well enough, I suppose. Limping
about, of course, and muttering under his breath, but I checked his
bandage. There’s been little bleeding since you patched him up this
morn.”

“Ladies.”

Enid and Aslyn both turned startled
eyes upon him.

“Good eve.”

Aslyn studied him uncomfortably. In
truth, she was exceedingly grateful for the fire, however much she
would have preferred to build it herself and thus be free of
obligation. She had not done so, though, and could not bring
herself to be so rude as to allow him to go without expressing her
appreciation for his efforts. “Thank you. If you have need of … of
… uh….” She broke off. Neither ‘care’ nor ‘attention’ seemed the
sort of thing to utter, particularly not when they could so easily
be turned against her.

Kale’s lips curled faintly. “If I have
need of?” he prodded, his dark brows rising
questioningly.

“I’m sure she’d offer you a fine stew
for your trouble if she had a hare to toss into the pot,” Enid
supplied helpfully. “I’ve brought her what I can spare at the
moment, but the roots alone….”

He frowned, glanced around the austere
cottage, nodded and left.

Aslyn elbowed the woman in the ribs.
“For shame! That was blatant….”

Enid shrugged. “You’d rather go to bed
hungry? The roots will not make much of a soup.”

Obviously, there was no point in
belaboring the fact that Enid had not only discomfited her by
soliciting on her behalf, she had encouraged a closer association
with the man … which Aslyn was desperate to discourage. Instead,
she focused upon Enid’s determined efforts to repay her for her
help. It was winter. Food was scarce. The basket of food she’d
brought could well create hardship for her own family. “It’s too
much! As much as I appreciate your generosity, Enid, you’ve repaid
me twice over already. You must take your basket with
you.”

“What? In giving you a spot of tea and
a ride into town? We’d have done the same for anyone we passed,
with no expectation of payment for it. You cannot count that. I
figured Jim could patch the roof as soon as he was able, but
that’ll not be for a while. Anyway, you’ve not had time to settle
in and it’s only neighborly to bring a bit of food to tide you over
for the night.”

“That’s too much for so little,” Aslyn
said firmly.

Enid’s brows rose. “My Jim means a
sight more to me than a hand full of potatoes and carrots, I can
tell you!”

Aslyn reddened, mortified to have her
words interpreted in such a way. “I didn’t mean it that
way.”

“I never thought you did, but I do.”
With that she set the basket down and marched toward the door. She
turned when she reached it. “I’d stay and help, but I need to get
my own family settled in and supper on if we’re to eat
tonight.”

Aslyn nodded and thanked her. She was
relieved to have the cottage to herself once more. She’d all but
forgotten how nerve wracking it could be to be surrounded by
‘normal’ folk, knowing that she must always mind what she said and
how she behaved, knowing the danger inherent in allowing herself to
let down her guard.