Medieval Master Swordsmen(6)

Rhys emerged from their shielding haven, approaching the knight whose charger was righting itself. The horse was muddy, but unharmed. The knight saw Rhys approach and tossed up his visor.

“Du Bois!” he threw a leg over the saddle and plunged to the ground. “Thanks for the help, man. We were wondering where you had gone.”

Rhys propped the crossbow against his hip, holding on to the hilt. “Only as far as the trees once I figured out that Courtenay’s fortress was compromised. But my charger is about to collapse.” He nodded his head in the direction of the bulk of the fighting. “How did you know they would be here?”

“Chris interrogated one of the fools who attacked us back at Hyde House,” the knight replied; he was handsome and blue eyed. “He managed to wrest some interesting information from him, mostly that John was aware you were taking the lady to Courtenay’s Ealing manor. His men were waiting for you. We tried to catch up with you and could only hope we made it in time.”

Rhys scratched his damp forehead underneath the mail hauberk. “How would he know?”

The knight shrugged his shoulders. “Spies abound everywhere, Rhys. You’ve been at court long enough to know that.”

Rhys shook his head. “I cannot believe there would be a spy in our midst, David. The earl’s men have been with him for years. There’s no way it would be one of them.”

David de Lohr lifted his broad shoulders. “Probably not, but it’s not the first time we have run into betrayal. The informant could be one of the soldiers or servants. Or it could be another knight; we simply do not know. We must watch what we say in front of those we do not know intimately.”

The fighting was growing weaker; some were running off as de Lohr’s men chased them. Rhys and David watched as the group began to scatter, fleeing into the pounding storm. David finally turned back to Rhys.

“Where is the lady?” he asked.

Rhys turned towards the shielding foliage just as Elizabeau emerged; she had been listening to their conversation. Soaked to the skin and very cold, her pert little nose was bright red beneath the folds of the cloak.

“Where do I go now?” she asked snappishly. “Courtenay’s manor is obviously compromised. Or do you plan to run with me night and day until we all drop from exhaustion?”

Rhys didn’t react other than to indicate David. “My lady, this is Sir David de Lohr, brother of the earl.”

Elizabeau studied the man as he dipped his head at her in greeting; he wasn’t nearly as big as the earl, but she could tell just by looking at him that he had the trained, muscular body of a warrior. He was very handsome with pale blue eyes and a square jaw.

“My lady,” David acknowledged. Then he looked back at Rhys. “There’s an inn at Hanwell. Chris says to take her there and stay there until he comes.”

Rhys nodded sharply and turned for the lady, taking her by the arm and leading her silently back towards their hovel of bushes. But Elizabeau wouldn’t be led away so easily. She fixed on David.

“So is this your cunning plan?” she asked, belligerence in her tone. “One step to the next, hoping to avoid trouble with no real strategy in mind? I’ll not be dragged all over England like common baggage. Where on earth are you taking me?”

David removed his helm, pulling his mail hood back to reveal cropped blond hair. He scratched his scalp furiously. It was evident he was taking his time in answering her.

“We are doing what we must to save your life,” he fixed on her, his blue eyes hard. “If you have a better plan, then by all means, take your own life in your hands and try to stay one step ahead of your uncle. He’s already killed your brother and now he wants you. If the lords of Brittany were unable to protect Arthur, then what makes you think you alone will be able to save yourself?” He walked towards her, stalking, anger in his manner evident. “All you need do is command us to leave you, Lady Elizabeau. ‘Tis you who hold the power; not us. We are your servants. Command us away and we shall obey.”

By this time, he was standing in front of her, drilling holes into her with his piercing gaze. Elizabeau tried not to appear too intimidated.

“’Tis not that I do not appreciate your devotion, Sir David,” she was considerably softer. “But it would seem to me that there should be a definitive plan in place, safe houses where you will take me until I can be united with my betrothed. Surely the emperor is sending men at this very moment to aid us in our endeavor. This marriage means as much to him as to us.”

David had lost none of his harsh stance. “My brother is a brilliant tactician. He would not be the King’s Champion where this not so. You must trust him, my lady. He will do what he feels best for you. It would make it much easier for all of us, especially du Bois, were you to simply comply with what we ask without question or resistance.”