Theodosia brought a hand to her mouth. “You mean — ”
“Yes. When those devils found us in the forest, I was outnumbered and outarmed. I had to act — I’d no time to think more.”
Her anger dissolved into a flush of shame. “Oh, may God forgive me for such harsh, wicked words.”
He snorted and opened his arms wide. “And me? The yellow-shirt?”
“Of course you also. I cannot believe I let my sinful anger take me over.” Mortified at his accusing stare, she felt her flush grow worse. “It all happened so quickly, and all I saw was the knights, then you were gone…” She trailed off helplessly. “I am so sorry. I have accused you of a great wrong.”
He shrugged. “Then apology accepted.” He strode over to Quercus, the gelding nosing the weedless ground a safe distance from the tethered stallion.
“Yet you still look angry,” she said, following him.
Benedict straightened the horse’s reins, gathering them into his hands. “Not at you. At myself.” His jaw tightened. “I don’t know how they found us. I thought I’d left no clue. But they did, God rot them.”
If she could cut her tongue out, she would happily do it there and then. But she had to confess her dreadful error. “It was my fault.”
“What?” Quercus shied at his sharp question.
“Fitzurse told me. He found the pilgrims I spoke to in Knaresborough.”
Holding the horse steady, he muttered a long string of oaths. “That’s how they knew about Polesworth. I heard them talk of it.”
“I know now how foolish my actions were. You told me so at the time. Well, I paid for that foolishness, did I not?”
His look hardened. “As you could have. With your life? Can’t you see that?”
“I do now. But at the time, I thought it was a clever move. I wanted to show you I have quick wits too.”
“You’re a nun, an anchoress. You have wits that can pray, can read. Fine for a life locked away in the church. Not the kind of wits that you need out in the world.”
“I know of the world.” She kept her tone measured though he mocked her vocation. “People came to pray at my window all the time, would tell me of every sin and trouble imaginable.”
“Sister, I’ve had to live off my wits since I was sent away to become a fighter.”
“You chose your own sinful path as a man. But it does not make you sharper than me.”
“A man?” He looked as if he pitied her. “I was seven years old. And poor folk have no choice. With my father dead and my mother not able to feed herself or my four sisters, she begged the lord of our estate to take me as a page. I was that small — I could hardly reach the stomachs of the squires, let alone land a blow, as they beat me, time and again. I had to rely on what’s between my ears to get by. For years and years, until I became big enough and strong enough to do the beating. There were some hard lessons, but I’ve learned them and you haven’t. And certainly not from listening to the prating of knaves and fools in church.” He drew a deep breath. “From now on, you don’t act unless I say. Will you at least promise me that much?”
His eyes shone oddly bright, like his flood of words had made him ill. She’d no desire to add to it. “I will.”
“Good.” He handed her Quercus’s reins. “You take him. You’ll manage on your own?”
She was not at all sure, but she nodded, not wanting to inflame Benedict’s anger any further. She put a hand to Quercus’s neck. “He’s steady.”
Benedict boosted her up into the saddle. She found the stirrups, apprehensive to be in control of the animal alone.
“I’ll stay at a safe distance,” he said.
She looked over. Benedict was already astride the heavily muscled black stallion, Harcos.
With a click from Benedict, both animals set off, Theodosia mindful to keep a couple of lengths behind. “How long before we get to Polesworth?”
“We can make twice the progress now,” said Benedict over his shoulder. “So I reckon maybe three days.” Guided by the knight’s skilled hands, Harcos trotted smoothly ahead of her.
Impossible to believe she’d been buffeted so when she’d been tied to the animal. Tied, helpless, listening to Fitzurse’s sadistic, depraved account of how he’d used the dreadful device called the Pear of Anguish. How he would take a bulb fashioned from closed metal plates, force it between a woman’s legs. Then turn the screw of the device, until it opened out, farther, then farther, then… Her question pressed on her, and she had to ask it.