Free A Lily on the Heath 4 by Colleen Gleason Page B

sir,” she said, turning away at a large clump of yellow-sprigged myrtle.
    “I am called Nevril,” he called after her. “Best of luck with the wee critter.”
     
     
    ~*~
    With the furious, feral dogs snarling just below her perch, Judith could not go down…but she could go back up.
    And so she did, climbing back up into the tall, swaying pine. She took much more care this time, knowing if she fell not only would Piall—oh, dear Piall !—not be there to catch her, but the rabid canines would. And so she went very slowly, branch by branch, trying not to think about the dire situation.
    She’d lost one of her most trusted men. Judith’s eyes filled with tears and her stomach lurched, horror at the manner of his death at last sinking in.
    And at least one horse was gone…for she’d seen the remains, torn into shreds by the possessed beasts. ’Twas clear to Judith the pack of dogs weren’t hungry and desirous of eating, but that they were well and truly maddened. Wild animals only killed what was necessary for survival, but these creatures were different. Bent only on destruction.
    Judith’s hope was to climb high enough that they’d forget about her and eventually leave. Then she must take the chance and climb back down, and hope…what? That she could somehow make her way to help? She had no horse to ride. She wasn’t certain where to go. She and Piall had traveled nearly two hours from Clarendon. Judith didn’t know the way back. They’d passed no town or village on the way, although she remembered Piall pointing out the direction of Marchmonte.  
    She drew in a deep breath, inhaling the fresh pine scent. Cease your worrying . You are resourceful and smart. You will find a way out of this.
    With that private lecture, Judith gathered her resolve and climbed still higher. The snarling and barking continued below, but she was safely far away from the beasts.  
    When she reached the nest, Judith once more tied herself to the pine trunk. To her relief, the two eyases were still alive but no longer as desperate for food. They seemed to have settled to rest.  
    She used the advantage of height in the tree to decide which direction she must go once she was able to climb down. Hills rolled in seemingly infinite waves, and the scrub of trees studding the rocky hills didn’t appear welcoming. There was a roadway in the distance, and Judith realized it was her best opportunity. If she could find her way to the road, eventually it would lead her to help.  
    Now, all she could do was wait. She opened her wineskin and drank—but not as much as she wanted to. There was no telling how long she’d be trapped here, and she’d need water. Nibbling on a piece of bread, Judith had another idea. If she could climb from this branch to another tree, and then to another and another…mayhap she could elude the dogs that way.  
    But when she looked around, she saw there weren’t any other tree’s branches close enough that would bear her weight.  
    The little niggle of worry began to spread into something larger and heavier. Once more Judith forced herself to ignore it. The dogs had to leave sooner or later.
    And when they did, she’d find her way down and away. She would. She must.
    Now she had naught left to do but wait. So, tied securely to the tree, she let her head tip back against the trunk and closed her eyes.
     
     
    ~*~
    Tabby always enjoyed watching her grandpapa do his work for the Lilyfare hawks. One of her earliest memories was the sight of him sitting on a short wooden stool near the fire, a myriad of candles around him as he carefully stitched a pair of jesses for Lady Judith’s father.
    Her grandpapa had a great love for the raptors and was grateful for his position as Master Falconer for the Lord of Kentworth and now the lord’s daughter, Lady Judith. Since it was illegal for any but the gentry to own the large hunting birds, Tessing was able to spend as much time with the falcons and peregrines as he