Page 15 of Last Knight (Knights Through Time #7)

Christian adjusted his hold on Ashley. An occasional snore escaped her lips as she mumbled something too low for him to make out. First she was cold, then his horse was too slow, and finally she grumbled she would be old and gray before they arrived at whatever rat-infested place he was taking her.

Eventually she fell asleep, sparing his ears from any more abuse. Was this how he sounded when he bellowed at his men? Nay, he could not.

The one thing he had learned about Ashley was not to let her get hungry, for when she was, she turned into a bellowing shrew, and did not find it amusing when he told her such. Instead she retorted that he hummed when he was thinking and she found it most annoying.

The sound of water led him to a small clearing, where he dismounted, lifting her in his arms. He set her on a pile of leaves and covered her with his cloak then took care of his horse.

’Twas late in the day and would be dark soon.

Tomorrow there would be an inn, and Ashley could have a bath and a hot meal.

He looked to the sky. The smell of snow in the air was faint, and he prayed the weather would hold until they reached the inn tomorrow.

They had passed few travelers and seen no one for most of the day, so he went to fetch water and firewood.

The waterfall soothed him as he thought about his guest. ’Twas evident she was unused to sleeping outside.

Curious about her time, it had taken all of his considerable control not to ask her questions, for he did not wish to give himself away.

He washed quickly, the water chilling him, then brought water back to the clearing.

“Are you hungry?” He spoke softly to wake her. Her eyes fluttered open, and for a moment he wondered what it would be like to see those intelligent green eyes every morn.

“I thought you would like to wash and eat.” He helped her stand. “Walk; it will ease the pain.”

“I’m starving.” She took a few steps and groaned. “You know, I thought I was in good shape, but riding like this, it’s like a weekend of boot camp with a drill sergeant from hell.” She rubbed her rather fetching backside and rolled her shoulders.

“I’d love to soak in a hot tub for an hour. Or a massage. That would be heaven.” A few more steps and she stretched. “I hear water.”

Christian pulled her behind him, unsheathing his sword.

“What—”

A bird took to the sky; no other sounds came, so he re-sheathed his blade.

“Is everything okay?” She looked as skittish as a newborn colt.

“Aye. ’Tis nothing.” He searched through the bags and came out with a small wrapped bundle. “Soap. For you to wash. Tomorrow we will reach an inn. Then you will have a bath and a proper meal.”

Ashley took the soap, inhaling. “Roses.” She threw her arms around him. “Thank you. For the soap and giving me something to look forward to.”

He pointed through the trees. “Follow the sounds to the water. I have nothing with which to heat the water. My apologies. ”

The smile on her face was like the sun coming out in summer, warming him after the long winter.

“I’m just grateful for the soap. I’ll make do.” She walked through the trees, and a moment later he heard her yelp.

“Oh my gosh, that’s cold. You weren’t kidding, were you?”

Christian chuckled. “Wash, and I will prepare our meal. There isn’t much, though I have plenty to drink. Would you prefer wine, ale, or water?”

“In the middle of the day?” she called out. He heard splashing. “I guess since we’re staying in character, I’ll take ale. I always did enjoy a good beer.”

He had a small fire going. Normally he would not build one when he traveled alone, but she was cold, and unused to being outdoors. So he would risk it.

The smell of roses preceded her. “Sit and warm yourself.” He motioned to a log he had pulled close to the fire. Her hair was wet and twisted into a long braid. “Did you go in?” He pointed to her hair.

“I wanted to but it was freezing. So I leaned back and dunked my head under.” She handed him the soap and damp cloth. “I used the cloth to wash. I didn’t know where you wanted me to put it.”

He draped it over a branch to dry by the fire. “You’re shivering.” He wrapped his cloak around her then selected the choicest morsels.

“You hum a lot.”

“Do I?” Christian blinked at her. “So do you.”

He handed her the flask. Ashley held it up, touching the leather, then shrugged and took a sniff.

“Bottoms up.” She took a deep drink and licked her lips. A drop of ale ran down the corner of her mouth, and Christian reached out with his thumb to wipe it away. She went still and he snatched his hand back.

They ate in silence as if they had eaten many meals together.

Christian was so distracted seeing to her needs he missed the sound until ’twas too late.

He caught movement from the corner of his eye and cringed.

In all his years he had never been taken unawares.

If his brothers found out, he would never hear the end of it.

Five men surrounded them. He stared at Ashley, willing her to understand.

“Do not say a word.”

She nodded, the bread in her hand forgotten, her eyes huge as she watched the men.

“Give us everything you have and we’ll let you live.” The leader of the little band brandished a slightly bent sword.

Christian studied every face, marking the men. A blade poked him in the side. “You heard him. Hand over your gold.”

Another man nodded to Ashley. “You too, lass. Give us the odd bracelet. I sees gold on the edges.”

She swallowed, but handed them the bracelet and necklace she was wearing. As she leaned forward to hand it to them, something fell out of her pocket, and Christian cringed.

One of the men snatched it, held it up, then scratched his head, his face full of confusion. They all gathered around to look, and he wondered what future trinket she had brought with her.

“What do they have?”

“My lipstick,” she whispered.

One of the men touched the red stick. His finger came away red.

“Witch. She is in league with Satan.”

This was bad. Christian had heard enough times how careful Charlotte had said they all must be not to change history. And what would happen if someone ever found an object from the future.

“What do you do with the red stick?” he whispered.

“Seriously? This is taking the whole acting thing a bit far, isn’t it?” But she sighed and said, “It goes on your lips to make them more red. You know, to make women more attractive to men.”

He looked at her lips. They were full and pink and pleasing. Christian shook himself. Nay, he would not think upon her lips. He was betrothed.

The men had their blades out, approaching Ashley.

“Pardon.”

The men looked to him.

“I am charged with taking her to the bishop of Winchester. She is a distant cousin and filled with sin.”

Ashley gaped at him.

The men peered at her. “Aye, she has an evil look about her.”

The men muttered amongst themselves before one shrugged and tossed the small tube into the woods.

“No, I need that.”

Christian took her hand in his. “Now ’tis not the time.”

She seemed to sense the danger, for she did not argue.

The leader sneered at him. “The sword and the gold.”

The sword was Christian’s favorite, a gift from his sire, and it pained him to hand it over. But he stood and handed the man the sword, along with the pouch at his waist. ’Twas all the gold he had with him. Why had he not hidden gold in his boot?

“And the dagger in your boot.”

Christian handed over the dagger, grateful the man had not seen the other. They examined the goods as Ashley leaned close to him.

“Why did you say I’m full of sin? That’s crazy.”

He shrugged. “The red color for your lips.” His ears burned and he coughed. “’Tis what a woman of low class—a strumpet—uses to darken her lips. I said you were cousin to the bishop so they would not harm you.”

“Thank you. But you called me a whore.”

“I did not mean what I said.”

She scowled at him. “Jerk.”

The leader kicked him. “Why so quiet? You fear us?”

Christian scoffed. “Nay, I am marking your faces so when I find you again and take back what is mine, I will slit you from belly to neck and leave you to die in the dirt.”

The man snarled, showing a great deal of missing teeth as he took hold of Ashley, who let out a scream loud enough to bring any thief within a day’s ride.

The men startled, giving Christen the moment he needed.

The dagger left his hand, ending the man where he stood.

Another was dispatched before the other three turned and ran, stealing his favorite horse.

Disgusted, he wiped the blade clean of blood on his hose. Ashley’s mouth opened and closed but no words came forth. She pointed, hand shaking.

“Blood. That’s real blood. I can smell the copper smell. There’s steam rising from where you stabbed him. They’re dead. All dead.”

“Not all. Three escaped with my sword, dagger, gold. And my favorite horse.”

“Well, I lost my watch and necklace. Not to mention my lipstick.” She swayed. “I… There’s something very wrong here.”

And with that, she swooned.

Ashley came to screaming. The last thing she remembered was seeing two men fall to the ground bleeding, their eyes open and unseeing.

“Breathe. Slow and easy.”

She scrambled away from him, pointing a shaking finger. “Please tell me that was a very realistic stunt with fake blood.”

“They would have killed me and done worse to you first. Nay, Ashley. They are dead.”

The two man lay on the ground. She nudged the closest man with her boot. When he didn’t move, she crawled over, placing her face close to his. It smelled like he’d been rolling around in a dumpster. Taking shallow breaths through her mouth, she placed a finger under his nose .

Nothing.

“He’s really dead. I’ve never seen a dead person before.”