The Lady and the Falconer (48 page)

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Authors: Laurel O'Donnell

Tags: #historical romance, #romance novels, #medieval romance, #romance adventure, #romance ebooks, #Fiction, #Romance, #romance books, #Historical, #romance author

BOOK: The Lady and the Falconer
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He grunted softly. She had no idea what she was getting herself into, what kind of people waited to take advantage of a twelve-year-old-girl. Most likely she would end up a prostitute. Or dead on the side of the road without her rich velvet cloak. He briefly wondered if she had even thought to pack any food. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. Well, I owe my lady that much, he thought to himself. “That’s where I’m heading,” he said. “Can you use the company?”

 

 

 

 

A Knight of Honor - Chapter One

 

 

Eight Years Later

 

 

S
lane Donovan dismounted in front of a small shop and tethered his black warhorse to a nearby tree. Woodland Hills was a simple town. There was only one shop to buy supplies in and this was it. The sign hanging from a weather-worn wooden pole jutting out from the building’s thatched roof creaked as it swayed in the easy breeze. He glanced up at the charred words burned into the wood.

Benjamin’s Goods.

A prickling at the back of his neck caused him to look away from the sign toward the shop’s open door. A small girl stood in the doorway, watching him with large brown eyes. Slane grinned and patted her head as he entered the shop.

The interior was dark except for the area lit by the flaming hearth burning to his left and the entranceway lit by the sun behind him. After his eyes adjusted to the gloom, Slane noticed a man sweeping the floor near the rear of the shop. When he heard Slane enter, the man stopped his work and looked up, clutching the broom handle with both hands. “Good day, sir,” he greeted. “What can I do for you?”

“You must be Benjamin.”

Benjamin nodded. “That I am. Are you needing supplies?”

Slane glanced around at the various tables that filled the room. Piles of dull-edged daggers, rusted knives, maces with chipped handles, and numerous other weapons filled several tabletops. Other tables held cooking utensils or farming tools. Shelves lining the wall held foodstuffs of all kinds, dirt-caked vegetables, trenchers, a few strips of salted meat. “I just need some information,” Slane said.

Benjamin began sweeping again. “Nothing comes cheap these days, sir.”

Slane sighed and pulled out a gold piece from the pouch at his waist. “I’m looking for a ring,” he said. “Two swords crossed, and an S on it.”

The man’s eyes lit up at the sight of the coin. He reached for it, but Slane pulled it back.

“Have you seen it?”

“Yes,” Benjamin said eagerly. “Not two days ago. A woman wore it.”

“Did you see which way the woman went?” Slane asked.

“She rode off to the west. Near as I can guess, she was heading toward Fulton.”

Slane nodded and handed the man the coin. Benjamin greedily snatched it from Slane’s fingers. Fulton. That was only a day’s ride. He turned and moved to the doorway.

He caught the small girl staring at him and her eyes went wide before she quickly pulled back out of the doorway. Slane grinned. He strolled out the door and moved toward his horse.

The soft tread of a child’s footsteps followed him. “Did she do something bad?”

The girl’s small voice caused Slane to turn. “No,” he told her.

“Then how come you want to find her?” she asked.

Slane smiled and knelt down to the child’s level. Her eyes were large and brown and innocent. “I’m looking for the ring.”

“Oh.”

Slane ruffled her hair and turned back to his horse. He swung himself up into the saddle.

“Like those other men this morning?”

Slane froze. “What other men?”

“Some other men were asking about the ring and the lady this morning,” she said. “One of them was real mean, the one with the hair on his lip. I didn’t like him.”

“Corydon,” Slane hissed, staring off down the road. When Corydon had won lands that bordered Donovan and Sullivan lands five years ago, Slane himself had approached him in peace, seeking to secure friendship with his neighbor. But Corydon had scoffed at his efforts and attacked his party. Two good men had been killed that day. Slane could still hear Corydon’s laughter burning in his ears.

And now Corydon had actively begun to accumulate an army of men. Enough men to lay siege to a castle. Slane knew he had precious little time to complete his mission. Corydon’s appetite for new lands was insatiable.

Slane returned his gaze to the small girl. She couldn’t have been more than four, but she was obviously smart beyond her years. He bestowed on her one of his most beguiling smiles. “Thank you, m’lady,” he said. “You’ve been very helpful.”

She put her small hands to her mouth and giggled.

Slane spurred his horse and the large animal fell into a trot and then a full-out gallop. With Corydon so close, he knew there was no more time to waste. He needed help. He needed experienced trackers.

 

 

***

 

 

The arm slammed heavily down upon the table. Cheers broke out around the room, echoed by groans and finally, what Taylor liked to hear the most, coins clinking together. She watched Jared rise from the table, a victory smile on his bearded face. His brigandine armor shifted with his movement, the leather shining dully in the fire of the hearth as he reached his full height. Taylor looked at the fire for a moment, at the snaking, whipping flames, then she quickly turned away.

Jared’s opponent in the arm wrestling match, a taller and heavier man, rose from his seat rubbing his arm. Taylor froze for an instant, her hand moving inconspicuously to the hilt of her sword, but when she saw the defeated man’s shoulders slump slightly and his head hang she took her fingers away from her weapon. A smile curved the corner of her lips. He would be no trouble. There had been many a time when she and Jared had to leave an inn fighting. Most men were not easily parted from their hard-earned coin.

Jared clasped a few arms and slapped a few backs.

Most of the gambling men found it distasteful to give up their coin to a woman, and Jared was busy speaking with the patrons and his opponent, so Taylor and Jared had found it best to employ a man to collect their winnings. Taylor leaned against a wall at the rear of the tavern, scanning the room for the shady little creature. She had found it best to remain discreetly separate from the patrons, keeping an eye on Jared’s back.

She spotted Irwin slithering from person to person in the dark room, collecting the coins that glinted in the torchlight when they fell into his open palm. The way he held his hands curled into his chest, the way he scurried, reminded her of a rat. Keeping her gaze on him, she reached down to the table before her and grabbed her ale. Irwin held out his hand to the next man, who deposited two coins into his open palm with a grimace and moved away. Taylor lifted the mug to her lips, but paused as she watched Irwin’s eyes shift left and then right. She knew what he was going to do even before his small hand dipped into his pocket and came up empty. Her green eyes narrowed and she threw back her head to drain the mug of ale.

By the time Irwin finally scurried up to her, Taylor was on her second ale. A grin spread across his rodent-like face as he produced the coin-filled pouch, chuckling gleefully, “We emptied their pockets!” He dropped it onto the table and the coins clanked heavily as they hit the wooden surface.

Taylor scooped up the pouch. She weighed it in her hand for a moment and was gratified to see Irwin’s smile slip a notch. She tied the strings around her belt, watching him. “Nice doing business with you, Irwin,” she said and took a step past him.

Irwin moved to block her path.

Her gaze slowly shifted to him.

“My payment,” he whined. He extended his hand, palm up.

“You know, Irwin, as I see it, you have two choices. You can try to get your payment from Jared, but he’s a smart man and all he would have to do is look in your eyes to see how you cheated him.” She watched Irwin’s face turn from gray to white. But he recovered quickly.

“Cheated him? I am a man of morals. I would never –”

“I saw you, Irwin.”

He sputtered for a moment, his hands twitching nervously. “It was a mistake, a misunderstanding!”

Taylor nodded. “I know. And I sympathize with you. But I’m afraid that Jared is not the forgiving type. Do you know what he did to the last man he caught with his hand in our moneybag?”

Irwin shook his head, his black eyes wide, anxiously awaiting the answer.

“He followed him out into an alley and -- well, the poor soul was never seen again. My guess is rat food.”

“Rat food?” Irwin echoed.

Taylor nodded. “Not the forgiving type.”

“You -- you said I had two choices.”

“Well, yes. You can take what you have... and disappear.”

Irwin did not move for a long moment. Taylor was sure that she saw his little nose twitch. “But...” he finally protested weakly.

Taylor held up a finger, halting his objection. “Rat food,” she reminded him.

Irwin shuffled his feet. “I see your point.”

“And next time,” Taylor murmured, leaning toward Irwin, “be sure that no one is looking when you steal.”

“Sully!” Jared called.

Taylor turned to see Jared making his way through the crowd of well-wishers. He stood a foot above her, his bald head shining in the torch light.

“The ale is on me tonight!” he called out to her.

Taylor nodded. “I thought as much. Irwin here—“ Taylor turned to Irwin, only to find him gone. A smile lit her face. “They don’t like to get caught.”

“God’s right hand! Another one?” Jared roared. “Good help is hard to find these days. How much did he take?”

“Not enough to make a dent in the profits you brought in.” Taylor hefted the bag in her palm. “It looks as though we’ll sleep in a bed tonight!”

Jared dropped his head, seriousness washing over him. He took Taylor’s arm and steered her to a private corner of the common room. “We can’t keep on like this, Sully,” he murmured. “We have to find work. A few coins from wagering won’t see us past a night.”

“You worry too much, my friend. I’m sure the morning will bring better luck and a paying fare. Just watch.” She turned to move back into the crowd, but Jared caught her arm.

“If nothing comes on the morrow, we move north. Agreed?”

Taylor sighed. She didn’t want to go north in search of employment. It was too close. Too close to what she had been avoiding all these years. She clenched her teeth and pushed away the unpleasant memories that threatened to take hold of her senses.

Jared shook her arm. “Agreed?”

Taylor pulled free of his grip. “Agreed,” she reluctantly assented, then turned and barreled through the rowdy patrons and out into the night air.

North. She glanced up at the stars and suddenly their glistening brilliance shimmered, transporting her back in time. Flames roared before her eyes. A horrible scream filled her ears. She quickly shook her head and marched around a corner. She paused to take a deep drink of ale. It slid over her tongue and down her throat, washing away the memories.

“It’s dangerous for a woman to walk these streets alone,” a voice called out.

Taylor groaned, immediately recognizing the voice. Usually when she told the vermin to stay away, they did. But it looked as if Irwin wasn’t as bright as the rest. “Irwin,” Taylor murmured and spun. “I told you to take what you have –” Her voice faded. The firelight shining through the tavern window illuminated three men standing in the alley before her: Irwin and two burly others. So, Taylor thought, our little rat has friends. She leaned against a crate that lined the dark road.

“I’m not satisfied with the payment I received,” Irwin said.

“I could have guessed,” Taylor murmured, lifting the mug to her lips.

“And now I want it all.”

Taylor swallowed the ale in a surprised gulp. “All? Aren’t we getting a little greedy, Irwin?”

He shrugged his scrawny shoulders. “If I have to get my fair payment this way, I might as well take it all.”

Taylor dropped her chin to her chest, sighing. “I suppose I can’t talk you out of this.” Part of her didn’t want to. Her hands itched for a little swordplay.

“Oh, your tongue is witty, but you’ll need more than that to change my mind.”

Taylor set her mug down on the crate, careful not to spill its contents. Then she straightened up and faced Irwin. “All right.”

Irwin’s beady black eyes widened. “You will give us the bag?”

Taylor chuckled in disbelief. “Not a chance, Irwin,” she said. “If you want the bag, you’re going to have to take it.”

Irwin’s companions laughed lasciviously.

The half moon that lit the sky cast a bluish glow over the alley, allowing Taylor to see her opponents as they approached. They were both big men dressed in soiled breeches and ragged tunics -- one with a long, dark, unkempt beard that reached almost down to his stomach, the other missing two teeth. They moved slowly and laboriously. Taylor was certain that their bulk would be more hindrance than help in their actual fighting.

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