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Authors: Merry Farmer

BOOK: The Faithful Heart
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“I think that’s the point.”

The morning was fresh and new. The sun hadn’t
fully risen. Jack’s head still pounded and the light filtering in
through the canvas didn’t help things. He swallowed but the act was
more painful than helpful. He’d heard of people dying of thirst
before but he’d never heard how long it took.

“So what’d’ya think?” he panted over his
shoulder to Simon. “If I promise to marry Lydia next time she shows
her ugly face you think she’d give us a drink?”

“Don’t do it, Jack.”

“Nah, but you think if I said yes an’ all
she’d hand over the water now an’ I could get out of it later?” He
was insane for even entertaining the idea, but with water and
porridge feet away the idea was very entertaining.

“Are you willing to take that risk?” Simon
weighed the possibility himself. “I know this woman. She probably
has a contingency plan to prevent you from reneging.”

“She has a what?”

Simon sighed. “She’s probably thought of that
already.”

“Right, right.” It would be just like Lydia
to have another trick up her sleeve. He drew in a breath. “God, I
think they’ve put honey on the porridge! I can smell it from
here!”

“Don’t think about it,” Simon coached him.
“Think about something else. Say your blasphemous rosary.”

“Oy! That is never blasphemy!”

“Hail Madeline, full of grace?” he both
questioned and prompted the recitation.

“Blessed art thou among women,” Jack picked
it up, “and blessed is each delicious freckle on your face that
probably tastes like strawberries in cream with a hint of honey an’
oh God Simon if I don’t get something to eat soon I’m going to do
something really stupid!”

A loud ripping sound stopped him from coming
completely unglued. Jack gasped, twitching as he looked around to
see what had happened. Simon stifled a cry, but whether it was from
the tug of the ropes or the small figure that had just rolled under
the wall beside them he couldn’t tell. The figure steadied itself
and stood.

“Aubrey?” Jack’s voice cracked. “Oy, now I
know I’m hallucinatin’!”

The Bandit threw back her cloak and pulled
the scarf from the bottom half of her face. “Jack!”

“MP?” He blinked. That was it, he was plumb
out of his mind.

“My lady!” Simon greeted her in a hush.

“Simon! Are you alright? Oh Jack, I….” She
dropped whatever she was about to say and lunged towards him,
skidding on her knees to throw her arm around his shoulders.

“Ah!” he cried out as the ropes dug into his
burning chest.

“I’m sorry!” She let go and dropped to her
haunches. The fear in her eyes flashed to determination. “I’m here
to rescue you,” she told them as she took a dagger from her belt
and began to saw through the ropes.

All Jack could do was laugh. “How in God’s
name did you end up here, MP?” His laughter turned into giggles
that refused to stop. It made him light-headed.

“I snuck into the forest last night,” she
explained, focusing on the ropes and her dagger. “I came across
Ethan and Toby as they tried to get back to the camp.”

“Wait, what?”

“When that man Connor turned them away I
followed him back.”

“Turned them away?”

“Yes. Ethan has been driven out of the
forest. Lydia is in charge now.”

“I knew it!”

Her eyes popped wide and she stopped sawing.
“Jack! You’ll never guess what I stumbled across. There’s a tent
full of gold and treasure! It must be everything Ethan has
stolen.”

“Treasure?” The ropes were loosening but his
head was in a full spin. Even with Madeline inches away his eyes
zipped to the tray of food and drink. “Oy, MP, no offense or
nothin’, but don’t stop cuttin’ those ropes!”

“Oh!” She dove back to work. “It was dark but
I’m sure there must be hundreds of marks worth of gold in there,
maybe thousands! I’ve never seen so much money, and that includes
all those coins that were inside the Madonna and Child statue last
year!”

The ropes snapped and fell loose around
Jack’s and Simon’s torsos. Both of them wriggled as best they could
to get out of them while Madeline pulled and unwound them. The cool
air hitting Jack’s sore skin stung like fire but he hardly
cared.

“My God!” Madeline rocked back, mouth opened,
when she saw the state they were in.

“Oy, hands!” He twisted to present his bound
wrists to her. She set to work slicing those thinner ropes. Jack
found himself swaying to the side as she did. Too disoriented to
balance, he fell over, the side of his head hitting the ground, as
the bonds snapped.

He crawled for the tray, ankles still bound,
as Madeline freed Simon. Jack’s hands shook as he reached for the
mug, hardly noticing the welts shining red against his bruised
arms. He slammed the mug to his mouth and drank for all he was
worth.

“What’s happened to you?” Madeline asked as
Simon scrambled for the tray as well. He snatched up the remaining
mug then took a deep breath and steadied himself as he drank it one
slow swallow at a time. Madeline crawled over to slice through the
ropes on his ankles.

Jack thought Simon was mad to sip his drink
like a lady until his own stomach rebelled at the sudden onslaught
of water. He choked and puked up everything he’d drunk.

“Slowly!” Madeline was at his side a moment
later, taking the mug from him and holding it to his lips herself.
“When was the last time you had anything to drink?”

Jack coughed again, shaking like a tree in a
storm. “Remember that nice lunch we had before Simon an’ me rode
off and got ourselves nabbed?” She nodded. “That was the last
time.”

“But that was two days ago!”

He forgot to make some sort of witty reply
and grabbed the bowl of porridge. The spoon shook violently as he
raised it and nearly missed shoving it in his mouth. He’d never
tasted anything so wonderful. It did have honey in it. He moaned in
contentment.

“Pace yourself.” Madeline rested a hand on
his shoulder.

Simon took the other bowl and began eating
with stoic grace. “How did you find us, my lady?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Jack added with his mouth full. “An’
how did you get past the guards?” His gaze flicked to the tent
flap, realizing that they could hear every tiny sound coming from
inside.

“Tom distracted them,” she explained,
catching his concern and glancing towards the tent flap herself.
“Lydia has forbidden him from coming anywhere near here, so
naturally when he showed up they chased after him.”

A twist of fear and suspicion caused Jack to
cough up a mouthful of porridge. He couldn’t think of anything to
say but, “Bloody hell.”

“I think we need to get out of here as
quickly as possible.” Madeline’s open anxiety had her biting her
lip. It was like heaven to see that simple gesture again. He smiled
in spite of her fearful look. His smile faltered when she said,
“Tom is waiting for us near the corral. He’s going to come with us
back to Kedleridge. Do you want me to see if I can find something
for you to wear?”

He’d plumb forgotten he was all but naked.
“Not enough time.” He took one last bite of porridge and tossed the
bowl and his doubts about his brother aside. “Oy, give me your
dagger.” She handed him the weapon. He muscled himself to a crouch.
His body was none too happy about moving after two days of sitting
still, but he had to make it work. “Simon?” He gestured to his
friend.

Simon was ready in an instant. Jack crept
towards the tent flap, taking a deep breath and pushing it aside to
stick his head out and take a look.

No sooner did the fresh air hit him than a
hand grabbed him by the hair and yanked him out into the dirt.

He heard a muffled, “Run, my lady!” before
Simon burst out behind him.

Simon threw one fist that landed nowhere
before being dragged into the dirt.

“Which of you little shits was supposed to be
on guard duty?” someone roared above Jack, kicking the dagger out
of his hand and planting a boot between his shoulder blades.

Jack was disoriented, sore from head to toe,
and on the verge of puking again, but all he could think about was
Madeline. He tried to wriggle around to find her but the boot on
his back holding him down made it impossible. He caught Simon’s eye
as he was held down by another man as thick as a tree trunk. Simon
shook his head.

“It was that Tom Tanner!” a younger man’s
voice wavered above him. “He were snoopin’ around. Lady Lydia said
he was to come nowhere near the prisoners!”

“And you thought it was a good idea to chase
after him?”

“He threw a stick at me, he did!”

As Jack caught his breath the scene above him
began to make sense. The man with his boot on his back was all
muscle with a long, fresh scar across his cheek and a squashed
nose. The other was hardly more than a boy and scared out of his
wits. The one holding Simon down was more friendly with
squashed-nose than the boy.

“Oy, you had a boy still in nappies guardin’
us, mate?” He forced a laugh to sound defiant. “I’m insulted.”

“I’ll deal with you next!” The brute ground
his boot hard into Jack’s back.

Jack cried out in spite of himself.

“You-” the big man began.

He was cut off as Lydia’s voice demanded,
“What’s going on here?”

Jack turned his head and saw Lydia striding
towards them dressed like she was on her way to a dance at the
castle, Roderick skittering along behind her. The man holding Simon
jumped to attention.

“The prisoners were trying to escape, my
lady,” squashed-nose told her.

“How?” Lydia blinked. She came to her own
conclusions and snapped, “Who let Tom Tanner into their tent!”

“It weren’t him, my lady,” the boy-guard
yelped. “He came by but I chased him off.”

“Who was it then?” Roderick asked.

Lydia’s face darkened and she scanned the
area with the sharp malice of a vulture. “Connor, form a search
party. Scour the camp. Bring me anyone who you don’t recognize, men
and women.”

Squashed-nose lifted his foot off of Jack’s
back and Jack sucked in a breath. “Yes, my lady,” he began, “but I
don’t quite know all the folks in the camp. It might-”

“Bring them to me anyhow!” Lydia snapped.

“Yes, my lady,” Connor bowed and dashed
off.

Free of the boot, Jack pushed himself to his
knees, eyes darting for any sign of Madeline. She was nowhere. As
he searched his eyes met Lydia’s. Lydia smiled, swaying closer and
bending to bring her face inches from his.

“Now Jack,” she cooed, “tell me who it was
who helped you to escape.”

He smirked back at her, mouth shut. He would
have reached up and strangled her or made a run for it if his head
wasn’t spinning and if his limbs would move properly. Simon jerked
under his guard’s grip, face half pressed into the ground.

“It’s too early for this,” Lydia sighed,
dropping her vixen act and straightening. “Get up.”

The man holding Simon wrenched him to stand
and Roderick lunged forward to hoist Jack to his feet. It was a
challenge to stand upright, but with Roderick sneering at him he
gave it his best shot.

“I’m not in the mood to play with you today.”
Lydia fixed him with a menacing stare. “Who helped you in there?”
Jack kept his mouth shut. Lydia sighed. “Really? You’re going to
make me do this?”

“Do what?” Before he could finish his
question she nodded to Roderick and screaming pain raked down his
back. He shouted, “What the bloody hell!” to keep from crying
outright.

Roderick circled his arm around to show him a
claw-like implement now dripping with blood on its three sharp
tines. “It’s a garden tool,” he explained. “I made a few
improvements.” To prove his point he raked it across Jack’s back
again.

“Roderick! Stop this at once!” Simon shouted,
eyes wild with fury as he struggled in vain against the man who
held him.

“Oh, you don’t like seeing your lord and
master harmed?” Lydia arched an eyebrow at him. “You certainly have
changed your tune.” Simon growled hatred at her. She responded by
nodding to Roderick. Roderick scraped the claw across Jack’s back a
third time. He couldn’t help but cry out in pain. “We could go on
like this all day, you know.” She crossed her arms and looked at
her nails. “You’ve got a broad back.”

“What do you want, Lydia?” Simon demanded on
Jack’s behalf.

“Do you want the full list or the short
version?” Simon struggled against the man holding him but got
nowhere. Lydia rolled her eyes and turned back to Jack. “Who helped
you escape. Or try to escape at least.”

He was only holding on to consciousness by a
thread, so Jack he threw caution to the wind and answered, “The
Derbywood Bandit!”

“Oh please,” Lydia snorted. Her smirk dropped
when she saw the shock on Roderick’s face. “What?”

“What is Lady Aubrey doing in the forest?”
Roderick grabbed Jack’s arm and wrenched it around his back.

The pain of that motion sent the world into a
black spin. Jack struggled to stay on his feet. He could feel
trickles down his back and knew it wasn’t sweat. “I don’t know,” he
panted. “Rescuing us?” He cursed himself for forgetting Roderick
knew the Bandit’s identity. At least he thought he knew.

Lydia wasn’t convinced. She narrowed her
eyes, studying the captive men before her. After a long pause she
took a breath. “I have a new idea. Bring them to the common. We’ll
string them up for everyone to see. That should draw this Bandit
out.”

“Or we could just kill them,” Roderick
sneered.

Lydia’s eyes snapped from Jack’s to
Roderick’s as he stood behind Jack’s shoulder. “Now you know we
can’t kill my fiancé, Roderick,” her sleek smile returned. “We
still have so very much to offer each other.”

“I’m not your-” Before he could finish his
reply Roderick gave him another slow strike with his claw. He
gasped and his knees buckled.

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