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Authors: Eve Irving

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BOOK: Telepathy of Hearts
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“Sorry lad, you look like a dragon blowing smoke. This has been hard on us both.

Matheus sighed.
Patting him, he said
he was
sorry in the form of an apple. There had been little to track. Not a hoof print nor a parting in the meadow. It was as if Richard Sline had disappeared from the whole of
Christendom, let alone the
se
woods.

He rubbed his hands over his face. He could hardly keep his eyes open from the lack of sleep. His body was running on an empty reserve. Adrenaline alone kept him functioning.

“Jethro
,
please ride back and pray tell Master Godwin we will be returning to make camp. Simon will need the farrier, his hooves are fair worn.

Matheus realised his hound was missing and whistled.
“Mace lad
…Mace
,
come boy
…for damnation hound, where are you?

Simon, hearing his master whistle for the hound, became quite agitated. Nudging at Matheus
's thigh he demanded his apple.

“Ride back, boys. It looks like I have to track my own tracking hound. As for you
,
Simon, find the bloody dog and I will give you a barrel load. I shall lead you my friend. I think your back has born my body long enough today.

The scent of wood was stronger still as the dusk set in. The golden stream of winter sunshine still striped the trunks of oak trees long since stripped of their autumn copper coats. Looking about him, Matheus admitted to himself that if he wasn
't walking in his living hell of fear, stress and exhaustion he would marvel at the goddess of nature that surrounded him.

Perhaps that stupid
Celt was not so daft for this is a place of worship after all, and it would not take a grea
t leap to imagine this place patrolled by
a goddess
accompanied by
her green m
a
n.

A smile even broke out on his face as he spotted some deer
,
knowing full well he did not have arrows enough to hunt them. For every arrow he had in his quiver was tipped solely for Richard Sline
's hide.

He shivered at the thought, and his mouth even turned bitter.

Cur, I will gut your spleen. Run Sline
,
for there is nowhere on this earth far enough for my temper not to catch you.

Cocking his head, Matheus dropped his destrier
's reins. Simon pricked his ears, recognising the sound of a hound on track. He struck the ground with his front hoof in foresight of the chase. Matheus mounted him with haste.
Cantering through the low boughs, he was nearly unseated as he slid the length of Simon
's body to avoid the blow of the branches. As always Simon adjusted his body to reseat his Master.

The clearing was grassy and still well-
lit by the low winter sun. Holly bushes groaned with the weight of red berries. The slightest sprinkle of snow caressed the ground. The still of the scene was only broken by the distant bark of a dog, which echoed throughout the forest.

Godwin came through into the clearing just as Matheus was jumping from his horse. The mouths of the men that followed were open and their gasps well heard. The cry of their Master punctured their ears. Sorrow filled their hearts as tears stung Matheus
's eyes.

Eleanor lay bloodied and still. Hair, which was kissed by Midas, was now as red as the holly berries that surrounded her. The gown that once graced her body was shredded and stained. Both her breasts were bruised and exposed and her legs were open.

Cupping her to him as mother does her babe, Matheus
's trembling hands held her. Lowering his ear to her mouth he felt the faint heat of her breath.

Godwin and some of the men gave chase, following the sound of the barking hound. Matheus never lifted his head to watch them leave Tears journeyed down his face and fell as the snowflakes did on her bloody cheeks. Oblivious to the commotion around him, he remained totally focused on her. Only the hand of Goody disturbed him enough to bring him back from his lugubrious state.

“We need to keep her warm, my Lord.

Matheus looked at her face and saw her lips move but understood not a word. His mind wandered back to the last time he held a bloodied woman in his arms
—
Elizabeth.

That was my own doing the same as this. I put the child that killed Elizabeth in her. I should have kept Eleanor safe.

Goody once more put her hand on Matheus. Dropping to her knees, she rubbed his cheek.
Putting a blanket over Eleanor, she lifted her
“babe
's
” hand. Holding it
,
she stroked Matheus
's cheek with her limp fingers encouraging him to feel the cold.

'Tis cold as ice.
Come now, Master Matheus, we have work to be done.

Breaking his malaise, he rose, taking Eleanor with him.
“Go light the camp fire and boil water.

Goody breathed a sigh of relief. Turning to who had returned, she said,

'Tis one thing a soldier knows. More help than how to wield a sword,
'tis how to keep an injured body warm in winter.

Godwin
's face was as ashen as his Master
's and his hands bloody.
“Did he?

Goody looked up at the big
Celt, tears in her eyes and sobbed.
“Looking at how that poor child lay, her breasts bare and her legs astride, I fear he has. We must be thankful that my Lord must have scared him away.

Godwin moved aside and said,
“I don
't think it was my Master.

Goody
's gaze followed Godwin
's. There lay the body of Mace. His muzzle was covered in blood as if he had been fighting. His neck was clearly broken and a dagger in his chest.
“Oh dear God, saints preserve us,
” the nurse maid squealed.

“I found him alive with the dagger in his chest. Whimpering in pain. I stroked his chin, talked sweet to him
and then
I broke his neck. It was the only way to stop his misery. Not beast nor man could recover from a dagger to the chest. I have had to do it on the battle field times a many.

Touching Goody
's hand, he continued.
“Not all daggers to the chest heal. Grief is a chest wound often left open forever.

* * *
*

Castled in his arms
,
Eleanor
knew who held her. His scent
,
the musk of man and horse. His touch, a stroke
,
a kiss. The way he tickled her neck beneath her hair.

I
'm safe
;
he has me
…all of me.

Eleanor slipped back, the rocking of his stride soothing her.

When she woke it was pitch black. There was the reassuring hoot of the tawny owl. Eleanor smiled.
“I
'm alive then.

The arms that hel
d her w
ere not Goody
's and the voice of those arms replied,
“Thank god, you had me pretty worried at one point, Wife. Before you plead for your virtue, you were so cold I had permission from Goody to hold you and warm through your bones.

Eleanor smiled against the skin of his neck w
h
ere her head nuzzled.
“Yes
,
I know.


I think she may be thawing to me
;
she even called me son.

Tears formed and fell.
Eleanor
tried to suck them back
, b
ut they would not abate. A dam broke;
salty and free they trickled on
to Matheus. He was alerted to her suffering.

His thumb under her chin, he lifted her face up with the gentlest of touch. Dropping his head so their foreheads touched
,
he kissed the bridge of her nose and whispered,
“Are you in pain? I am so sorry I did not find you in time
…I am so, so, so very sorry, my dear Wife
,

“Don
't call me wife, my Lord
…please don
't call me wife.
” Eleanor
's shoulders heaved. Her belly pulled tight, and her spine stiffened. The vomit rose in her mouth. The bitter taste of bile stung her tongue.
Pulling free of Matheus embrace. She stood and squealed as her ankle rebuked her with pain. Limping, she made for the tent egress.

Scooping her up and holding her vice-
like, his fingers penetrating and harsh, confining her, Matheus had her in his possession, absorbing all the fight she had. Gripping her to him, standing strong and stoic. He remained unreactive to her panic.

When Eleanor
's body relaxed and softened, Matheus lightened his hold, his touch as ever tender but forceful and strong.
“You will not run
,
Eleanor. For God is my witness, I will bind you to me from here to Lincoln if I have to. You will not run. The worst is over. You are not going anywhere unless it is with me

Eleanor could not see his eyes in the darkness. She didn
't need to, she could feel the heat of them as they flashed.

“And Wife
,
it is Husband
…not my Lord.

How could she tell him what she did not know herself? The darkness was a relief. The flush of her shame rising
,
c
olouring her skin and heating her blood. Still held fast
,
she whispered,
“Matheus
,
light a candle please
…I need to see your face when I speak with you.

“No running, Eleanor. If I release you, no running
…your oath.

He ran his hands the length of her arms as he spoke. She heard the concern in his voice. Words said in disquiet but not rebuke. Releasing, he took the candle out of the tent.

As she watched his silhouette on the jute, her stomach stiffened, her tightening belly muscles alive with butterflies as she viewed him and heard Goody
's words in her head.

'
Tis kisses of fairies who fly in your blood, child. Yes, indeed Goody, kisses of my fairies alive in my blood.

BOOK: Telepathy of Hearts
8.13Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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