Free A Lily on the Heath 4 by Colleen Gleason

feathery, silky grasses that shimmered in the sunshine. And there was little more pleasurable than a handful of sun-warmed berries.
    Something rustled in the tall grass and she caught sight of a white cottontail as a brown hare bounded off into the forest. Now Tabby was singing in a normal tone, for no one was close enough to hear her. She could see people in the distance; she wasn’t alone or unsafe. Lady Judith oft warned her not to go about or beyond the bailey alone, for there were unscrupulous men who’d hardly think twice about tumbling an unaccompanied maid—whether she wanted to lift her skirts or nay.  
    Then, right at the edge of the forest, she heard more rustling. It was more frantic this time. And the creature remained in one place instead of rushing away from her approach. Curious, Tabby stopped singing and walked carefully toward the jolting, jerking brush. Now she could hear sounds of distress, and as she drew closer she heard a soft squeaking.
    When she parted the grasses and saw what they hid, she gave a soft gasp and fell to her knees. “Oh, nay,” she cried softly. “Poor soul!”
    A white rabbit lay huddled on its side, kicking ineffectually, trembling with obvious pain. Its fur was stained with fresh blood, bright red against its soft coat. A broken arrow was embedded in its left haunch. Tabby cursed the men and their sport, sending a glare in the general direction of the five men-at-arms.
    Despite its agony, the terrified creature tried valiantly to elude her hands when she tried to help him…but he couldn’t move quickly enough. Tabby was able to examine the protruding arrow, noting with relief that it hadn’t gone all the way through the rabbit’s leg. But there would be blood when she pulled it out….
    Biting her lip then clenching her teeth, Tabby held her breath and positioned her hand as leverage against the rabbit’s fragile leg. She sent up a prayer and yanked the arrow away with one sharp, smooth movement. The creature squeaked and gave a horrid squeal, then lay there panting and trembling. He watched her with one unblinking pink eye as if to measure her friend or foe. Tabby was relieved to see blood oozing from the wound, but not gushing forth as she’d feared. Maybe it could heal.
    “’Tis all I can do for you here,” she said, stroking the creature’s soft fur. “And I trow Lady Judith will have aught to say on her return to find yet another occupant in her chamber, but you must come with me for the rest.”  
    Taking great care, she was just gathering the shuddering creature up into the long skirt of her tunic when she heard footsteps swishing in the grass behind her. She turned, shielding her eyes against the sun.  
    “What do you here, good wench?” called the man as he approached. She recognized him as one of the men-at-arms she’d noticed earlier. He wore a livery she didn’t immediately recognize—therefore he and his master or mistress were new to court. Or were not part of the king’s retinue at all, and mayhap he hailed from a nearby estate. The man’s hair was the color of pale wheat, but his skin was tanned golden and his beard and mustache were honey-colored. He carried a bow and wore a sword at the waist. And, as evidence of his warring ways, there was a long-healed scar along his jaw, running up toward the ear.
    Tabby’s heart thudded and her palms went damp. She looked around quickly, suddenly realizing she was out of sight of the others. Nevertheless, she had her own knife—small as it was—tucked into her girdle. She eased it from its sheath, keeping it hidden. The man had made no threatening move, but she meant to be prepared should that change. “I was out for a walk and I found evidence of your sport,” she said—then immediately regretted it.
    How many times had Lady Judith bewailed her own thoughtless tongue? And now Tabatha had done the precise thing her mistress warned her against.
    “My sport?” rumbled the man. Now he stood so