Free By Queen's Grace by Shari Anton Page B

will come looking for you.”
    Judith’s brow scrunched in thought. Then she smiled, too wickedly for comfort, and flounced into the woods. Whenjust out of sight, she began a wholly unexpected recitation in Norman French. The minx! Corwin pursed his lips tightly to hold back laughter.
    “What is she saying?” Thurkill asked.
    “She recites Beowulf,” Corwin said, his grin spreading despite his best efforts.
    “Beowulf?” Thurkill exclaimed, frowning. “Why in French?”
    Judith, too, must have noticed her captors didn’t understand the language, and so could take no pleasure in the story’s telling. “Well, she did say she wouldn’t be your entertainment.”
    “Humph,” Thurkill uttered. Slowly, a smile lit his face. “An imp, she is. Ah, if I were younger…”
    Judith interrupted her tale to call out, “Can you hear me?”
    “Aye,” Thurkill answered.
    “Can you see me?”
    “Nay.”
    Judith resumed the story and, Corwin imagined, began to remove the nun’s robe. She would gather fistfuls of the black robe and pull the garment up over her head, baring her body to the fading sunlight and warm breeze. Or did she wear a shift of fine white linen to protect her smooth, silken skin from the coarser wool?
    He’d touched her but the once, this morning when halting her escape. When placing his hands on her shoulders, his fingers had momentarily brushed against her neck. Corwin didn’t think she’d noticed his swift physical reaction, or how he’d struggled to focus on his purpose. If Thurkill hadn’t come along. But he had, thank the fates.
    After turning Judith around, he’d shoved her much harder than necessary, more to break contact with her than for Thurkill’s benefit.
    He must keep duty foremost in his mind. Not allow Judith’s dove-gray eyes to distract him from his purpose. Ignore the apology that explained why she’d once turned him aside, an apology that may have been sincere and only delivered poorly. He shouldn’t be standing here wondering if Judith, this moment, stood gloriously naked within hearing distance.
    “Thurkill, I know where we can get a horse for Judith.”
    “I am not sure I want her to have one. I shudder to think of how far we will have to chase her if she decides to take off again.”
    Corwin could understand Thurkill’s hesitancy, but when the right time came, a successful escape might depend upon Judith having a horse.
    “Mayhap if she is not so sore at day’s end her disposition would sweeten. Besides, if this journey will be as long as I think it will, ‘tis asking much of your mount to carry the two of you the whole way.”
    Thurkill’s eyes narrowed. “Think you know, do you?”
    “Only time will prove me right or wrong. In the meantime, I know of a baron who lives north of Oxford who raises fine horses. I can purchase one of them for Judith.”
    “Buy? You carry so great a sum?”
    “‘Twill nearly empty my purse, but I should have enough.”
    “Humph. How do I know you will not give us away somehow?”
    “Send Duncan or Oswuld with me. Either one could act as my squire and report my every move and word to you.”
    Thurkill grimaced as though pained, and rubbed at the area just below his ribs. “I will think on it.”
    “Something wrong?”
    “Nay, I just need something to eat.”
    Oswuld came toward them, a metal cup in his hand. Hegave it to Thurkill, who drank it without comment. Only the scrunch of Thurkill’s nose told Corwin that the cup contained something other than ale or water. Something bitter. A potion?
    The melodic sound of Judith’s voice drew Corwin’s attention away from father and son. Her recital became louder, then stopped abruptly as she came out of the woods. Gray suited her coloring better than black. The lighter gown hugged her body more closely than the heavy robe.
    Judith would be beautiful if draped in a flour sack.
    She wore a shift. A narrow band of white hung below the hem of the gown. She hadn’t bared her naked body