Page 4 of Saxon Blade Norman Blood

“It’s time to go.” William emptied his cup of ale and stood up.

They had broken their fast together in the privacy of his room. Rowena’s appetite was not quite up to the task, however, and she only managed a few spoonfuls of gruel. As if that was not enough, she had not slept a wink last night, lying stiffly on the bed next to William, considering her options and finding none.

Her dagger had been taken away and she had seen nothing that would pass as a weapon in the room. Suffocating him under the fur covers was a ridiculous proposition, as was strangling him. He would lift her off him in a heartbeat. She might as well try to kiss him to death. Ludicrous as it was, that particular idea had sent an unwelcome shiver of excitation through her body, making it even more impossible to find any sleep.

Once, just before dawn, she had tried to move, to see if she would be able to reach the door without waking him. He had raised his head as soon as she had stirred.

“Don’t even think about it, whatever it is,” he’d warned, eyes aglow in the moonlight, as alert as if he had not been asleep moments before.

After that she had stopped trying and just lain there, staring at the ceiling, doing her best to keep panic at bay. What would happen to her now? William had spared her life because he thought her instrumental in someone else’s scheme, and he wanted to find out who. Even if he did not kill her, there were a number of things he could do, especially if he was intent on extracting the information he needed to identify his real enemy.

Or to humiliate her and take the pleasure he had been denied last night.

But to her surprise, he had not attempted anything. No one in the castle knew that she, a Saxon girl, intended to kill a Norman baron, and William himself behaved as if she had every right to be in his bedchamber. She was sure the maid who had brought the food in earlier had not suspected Rowena of being anything other than his latest conquest, waking up in his bed after a night of passion.

Incomprehensible as it was, he did not seem intent on punishing her for attempting to kill him.

Yet.

“My business with the king is complete. We are to go back to my castle without delay,” he announced as naturally as if they were a married couple about to visit one of their numerous domains. “It is situated upriver, about thirty miles away on the road to Basingstoke. We will travel with the company of other barons going north and part from them at the end of the day.”

“We?”

“Of course. You are coming with me.”

He did not offer any more explanation. Rowena had a sudden vision of her following a horse barefoot, with her wrists bound by a rope. She shivered at the prospect.

“Will I—”

“No, nothing as drastic as that.” He smirked, and she realized that her horror must have shown on her face. “Let’s go.” He buckled his scabbard with decision. Then he tucked the horn-hilt dagger into his belt, and even had the audacity to smile at her as he did so.

Rowena did not pass any comment.

In the outer enclosure of the castle, the final preparations were underway. Squires busied themselves with the saddling of horses and the packing of bags, while knights gave their last orders. Having sworn their oath of fealty to King William, the barons were returning to their lands.

Though no one had taken a second look at her, Rowena felt extremely conspicuous. She was the only woman in the company, and the only Saxon. Every single person around her was Norman, even the servants.

All the noblemen carried swords and most wore chainmail. This was little less than an army on the move, quite a daunting sight. If William chose this moment to tell his friends what she had done to him, she wouldn’t stand a chance. Being killed outright would be a mercy compared to what else they could do to her.

Fear chilled her to the bone, and she wrapped her cloak tightly around her.

“Were you expecting to see an iron cage to lock you in?” William had not missed her gesture and he sounded amused.

But she did not feel like laughing. She had half expected it.

“Well, I have no cage, iron or otherwise. Believe it or not, attempts on my life are not numerous enough to make such a contraption necessary. You will travel on horseback, like the rest of us.”

Rowena sighed in relief. She would be spared the pain and humiliation of being treated as a criminal. Then she looked around and relief transformed into full-blown panic. All the horses were enormous. They were rearing to go, stamping the ground and snorting excitedly. She bit her lip. Such animals were trained to carry armed warriors on the battlefield, not slight women like her. She would never have the strength or skill to control them.

“Which one will I ride?” she croaked.

“This one.” William walked over to a stallion with flaring nostrils. His black coat shone under the sun. “Thunder.”

A whimper escaped Rowena’s lips. She had only ever ridden small ponies or mules, and this not very often. She was not at all sure she would be able to handle such a spirited mount without injuring herself.

Suddenly the iron cage seemed a more appealing option. The twinkle in Willaim’s eyes when she dared to look at him told her he understood the reason behind her dismay.

“Quite daunting, is he not?” An affectionate pat on the animal’s rump mitigated the comment. “Fret not, his gait is surprisingly even. He is well trained, though of course I would say so since I did it myself.”

“Still, he looks too strong for me.”

William flashed even, white teeth. “He is. But you won’t have to manage him.”

The knot in her stomach loosened somewhat. “Oh. I thought you said I would ride him.”

“As I do not let my closest friends do so, I am hardly going to let someone I don’t know handle the reins. I will not have you ruining his mouth when I had the devil’s own job breaking him.” He gave what would almost pass as a chuckle. “No. I will ride him.”

“So which one shall I be riding?”

“My apologies, I should have been clearer. You will ride on Thunder, but with me.”

Rowena rebelled at the notion. “I’m not sitting in front of you like a child.”

“No? It will be a whole lot more comfortable than lying behind me like a sack of grain, I should think.”

“I mean that I will ride my own horse.” His refusal to understand irritated her.

“Out of the question. I am not running the risk of you giving me the slip when you feel like it, even though the chances of you outrunning me on Thunder are non-existent. Still, I don’t know what you might be capable of. You did intend to kill me after all.”

The smile never left his lips, but she could not ignore the reminder. She was his prisoner, even if no one else knew it, even if he had not locked her up, and her every move would be monitored.

Day and night.

Well, there was no help for it now.

Once William had climbed on Thunder’s back, he held out his hand to her. The gesture was more that of a lover trying to woo his lady love than a warrior dealing with a dangerous prisoner. It threw her.

“Your turn,” he prompted when she remained frozen on the spot. “Do not make me come and get you. I will do it, but I cannot guarantee I will be gentle.”

Without a word, she took his hand.

“We ride!”

At the sharp order the whole company moved on.

Startled by the sudden jolt, Rowena gave a cry. Immediately an arm fastened about her waist. For once she did not object, as she was too afraid she might slide off the saddle if William did not hold her in place.

With every step of the horse, strong muscles moved against her unprotected thighs. The horse was the epitome of power. William’s skill in managing the mount was obvious, however, and put to rest any qualms she might have about her safety. With him handling the reins she would come to no harm. No physical harm at least. She wasn’t quite sure how her nerves would survive the experience. She was petrified. The man holding her in his arms could have killed her and thrown her body into a ditch without even bringing his horse back down to a walk. She had wanted to get close to him, and she’d succeeded. She was now utterly at her enemy’s mercy.

The enormity of the task ahead hit her anew.

She was an unarmed prisoner and her captor knew all about her intentions. How was she to fulfil her promise now, and escape with her life?

When the company reached a river later in the day, she still didn’t have her answer. The men stopped in front of the bridge, a wooden construction that looked as if it had been built before the invasion and about to collapse.

“We will have to cross one by one,” William declared, something she had already concluded. The bridge looked barely strong enough to support a horse and its rider.

The men dismounted and began to lead their mounts across it. It was rather long but just wide enough to let them pass, with no protection on either side. Rowena was glad she was not the one leading a restive stallion over the churning river. The animals stomped over the planks chuffing and tossing their heads. It seemed the roaring waters underneath unnerved them as much as it worried her.

“You can go now,” William told her once half the company had gone to the other side.

Rowena understood he had waited until enough men were on the other side to prevent her escape should she be of a mind to run. This proof that he was determined to keep her under control did little to appease the tension within her.

She walked to the bridge with a thudding heart. What if the passage of the horses had damaged the rotting wood? Doing her best to ignore the dreadful possibility, she hastened forward, doing her best not to look at the river below. When she was about halfway across she heard a shout behind her, followed by a thunder of hooves. She turned in time to see a horse bolt toward her.

In the blink of an eye she understood she was going to fall. There would be no preventing it. She could never keep her footing on such a narrow bridge with a stallion thundering past.

Rowena could only utter a cry of pure terror as she fell into the churning water.