Free The Warrior and the Dove - A Short Novel (Medieval Chronicles) by Julia Byrne Page B

pack horses on
leading reins.
    As the road
curved away from the town, and Herleve and Martin, still waving, vanished from
sight, Hugh cast an alert glance at Annith. He was keeping the pace to a walk,
and staying within touching distance, until she looked more at ease in the
saddle. He would need to react instantly if Annith couldn’t control her horse,
although it seemed that somewhere along the way, she’d been taught to ride.
    “Riding must be
one of those skills that, once learned in childhood, is not forgotten,” she
remarked, echoing his thoughts.
    He smiled at
her. “Indeed, but we don’t know when you were last on a horse, so tell me if
you need to rest.”
    “I will,” she
said, glancing about her at the countryside. Men out early to plough in the
stalks left after the summer harvest caught her eye, before she was diverted by
a flock of birds flying in perfect formation above them. A smile lit her face
as she watched them out of sight.
    Being out in the
open was still new to her, he realized. How long had she been locked away in
her cloister? It could have been years, and yet she’d had the courage to face
the outside world, alone, on foot, and without the means to buy food or
shelter. To escape…what?
    Never again, he
swore silently, putting the question aside for the moment. Never again would
she be forced to such desperate measures. She was his wife; he would protect
her for the rest of their lives.
    His wife.
    Suddenly he was
shaken by a violent urge to sweep Annith out of her saddle and hold her close
against his heart. To kiss that sweet mouth until she was soft and yielding in
his arms, until she knew nothing except the insistent beat of desire. Tonight,
he promised himself. Tonight he would do all that and more.
    And if he didn’t
stop thinking further ahead than the day, he was going to have a damned
uncomfortable ride to Worcester. He shifted cautiously in his saddle.
    “Is something
amiss, my lord?” she asked with such innocence he had to laugh.
    “Nay,” he said.
“I was just thinking that our wedding must have been nothing like a lady would
expect, and for that I ask your pardon. You’re still in the gown you borrowed
from Herleve, and I’m dressed for battle, barring the armor.”
    “It matters
not,” she said, apparently unconcerned by their lack of wedding finery. He soon
discovered why when she sent him an uncertain glance. “Tell me… What will
happen when we reach Worcester?”
    “Are you worried,
sweeting?” He reached out and laid his hand briefly over hers. “There’s no
need. The priory is only a mile or so beyond the town. I won’t leave you for
long.”
    “I suppose you
think me foolish,” she murmured. “But ’tis awkward, talking to people when I
don’t remember who I am. And I would remember if I wasn’t such a coward
that I feel ill every time I try.”
    “Banish that
thought immediately,” he ordered, deliberately stern. “Was it cowardice that
made you stand your ground when that mob of boys saw you? You knew if you’d
tried to run, some of them would have chased you down, especially given their
mood at the time. You’d have been unmasked immediately.”
    He didn’t even
want to think about what might have happened then.
    “Oh,” she said,
brightening. “I’d forgotten about that.”
    “Good,” he
muttered. “I’m glad one of us has.”
    “What did you
say, my lord?”
    “I said, you
won’t have to converse with a lot of people in Worcester.”
    “But what will
you tell the Sheriff?”
    “That you’ve
been ill, which God knows is nothing short of the truth, and that you will need
to retire as soon as we arrive. I wish you didn’t have to be confined,” he
added, sending her an apologetic look, “But ’tis safer for the moment.”
    “Aye,” she said
with a small shiver. Then she tilted her head enquiringly. “Do you think they
would mind if I have a bath while you visit the priory?”
    Hugh felt a slow
smile cross his face. He