Free Stuart, Elizabeth by Where Love Dwells Page B

last.
    A
smile stole over his face. "You may recall from last night. I wish to know
your name."
    Elen's
thoughts whirled frantically. He was toying with her, of course. But did she
dare tell him the truth? The name Elen was common enough in Wales. Impossible for
him to suspect she was Elen of Teifi in her filthy, bedraggled state. Besides,
he'd already questioned several of his prisoners. Might he not already know her
name and be seeking to trap her in a lie?
    "Elen.
Elen of Powys," she replied at last, hastily appropriating Enion's land.
    He
nodded. "Elen. Thank God it's not one of those impossible Welsh names my
English tongue can't form."
    He
turned from her and gestured for her shame-faced guard, nervously holding two
horses several paces away. "Is that all?" she asked incredulously,
unable to believe the Wolf so easily appeased.
    He
glanced back. All trace of the smile was gone, and his face was suddenly so
hard she decided she had only imagined it. "For now, yes. But I'll not
have any of my men struck again or you'll suffer for it. One more bit of
trouble from you, Elen, and you'll not only walk out of these mountains, you'll
walk bound in chains all the way to meet Edward at Westminster!"
    Her
gaze never wavered. "And these men?"
    "I
told you before—they'll come to no harm. Believe me or not, as you will,"
he said impatiently. "There's nothing you can do in any case."
    With
a sharp warning to her guard to keep a firm hand on her mount, Richard was
gone. Elen stood staring after him, scarcely daring to believe his words. Yet
he was right. There was really nothing she could do, anyway.
    ***
    "My
lord, hold up a moment!"
    Richard
turned in the saddle as Giles cantered up alongside. His friend had ridden in
the rear of the column for the last two hours, helping Sir William prod the
weary prisoners along the trail.
    Giles
leaned nearer, his voice dropping so low only Richard might hear. "I know
you're in a hurry to reach Beaufort before that damned Fox can ambush us. But
if we keep this pace there are those who won't make it." He glanced down
the line of men. "And not only among the enemy."
    With
the experienced eye of a commander, Richard looked over the column of his
men-at-arms. Several reeled in the saddle like drunkards, while all slumped
heavily in exhaustion. His men had been too long without sufficient food and
sleep, and many were too proud to complain of painful wounds obtained in the
vicious fighting last night. They needed a rest. With the rush of battle
excitement long ended, he felt weary unto death himself. Besides, his own
wounded arm ached with a vengeance.
    "We'll
stop a few moments then, Giles. Pass the word. This is as good a place as
any." He glanced up. "Oh, and Giles, have Simon unpack the wineskins
he carries in my baggage. See they're distributed among the men. I've been
saving them for a moment such as this."
    "Wine?"
A grin stretched itself across Giles's haggard face. "Richard, I'd kiss
your feet if I thought I could get down without falling on my face."
    Richard
gave a weary chuckle. "Pray don't, then. I'd be honor bound to pick you
up, and I'm afraid we'd both end up in the dirt."
    Giles
glanced around. "Where is the lad?"
    "Somewhere
back to the rear of the train. I told him I wished to carry my own shield, and
it offended his dignity so greatly he's scarce speaking to me. And I'm afraid I
was a bit sharp with him this morning," Richard added sheepishly.
"God's mercy, I was sharp with everyone when I learned the Fox had escaped
me."
    "Yes,
but you snapped everyone's nose off, not just his. Simon knows you well enough
to realize you don't mean what you say in a rage." As Giles stared at his
friend, his dark eyes were thoughtful. "But you might think about speaking
to the lad if you can spare a moment, Richard. I know you've more important
tasks, but the boy worships you. It won't do to have him mooning about camp
like a kicked puppy. By the way, did you know it was he who raced into the