Free Rogue Knight (Medieval Warriors Book 2) by Regan Walker Page B

accomplished her
purpose in coming. The rest she could see to another time.
    Some minutes later, three knocks sounded at the door. She
unlatched it and pulled it open.
    Sir Geoffroi strode into the chamber.
    Closing the door behind him, she asked, “Where is Feigr?”
    “You did not expect me to bring a rebel prisoner to the hall
where the king himself dines?”
    “No, I suppose not,” she said, disappointed. “But did you
find him?”
    “Yea. Alain is guarding him now. We will collect him when we
leave the tower. He is too weak to ride alone.”
    She inhaled sharply. “Will he live?”
    “I cannot say what injuries lie beneath his skin. He has
been badly beaten and his body is all cuts and scrapes. He might have a broken
arm as well, for he cradles it close to his chest. I have asked the king’s
physic to see what can be done.”
    “Poor Feigr. He was only trying to protect his daughter.
Inga will be despondent.”
    “William does not countenance rape but even he cannot
control so many knights and men-at-arms. Some are mercenaries with no care for
anything save what they can gain. ’Tis a bad time to try to protect a young
woman in York.”
    She could tell by his expression he included her in his
statement. As she considered what had happened after the battle the full scope
of the truth came to her. Inga was likely not the only woman raped by the
Normans this day. She shuddered. “When do we leave?”
    “Now if you like, but we may have to wait for the physic to
complete his work.”
    She drew her cloak around her, eager to leave and wanting to
assure herself Feigr would be well.
    “Keep your hood pulled over your head, stay close to me and
do not look at the men.”
    Emma was only too happy to oblige. She had seen the lust in
the knights’ eyes when they had discovered her in the hall. Never did she want
to draw their leers again. They were like the hungry wolves that hid in the
forest.
    When they reached the part of the bailey where prisoners
were housed, the knight with the scarred face, the one called Sir Alain, waited
for them with horses. Torches illuminated the bailey and the face of the huge
knight. He no longer appeared so formidable to her, his scar now merely part of
a familiar face.
    “The physic is near finished,” he informed Sir Geoffroi.
“The arm was broken, but not the flesh. The physic has set the bone.”
    With anxious eyes, Emma looked up at the huge knight. “What
does the healer say about Feigr? Will he recover?”
    “If it is God’s will, lady. Only time will reveal the
outcome.” His voice was surprisingly kind. “Some of the sword-maker’s wounds
are inside, but the physic was encouraging. You should know he does not usually
see prisoners, but Sir Geoffroi asked on your behalf and, given the
circumstances, he did not refuse.”
    Emma turned her gaze to the blond knight. “You have come to
my aid once again. Why, I cannot imagine.”
    “Can you not?” he whispered. His blue eyes teased but she
detected a seriousness there that belied the laughter in his eyes.
    “If your interest is in me, sir knight, it is misplaced.”
    He took her hand and kissed her knuckles, sending a shiver
coursing through her, making her breasts tingle. “We will see, my lady.”
    She turned her eyes from his intense regard and pulled back
her hand. “No matter, I am in your debt once again. Thank you.”
    “I will always come to your aid,” he said.
    The connection with the French knight embarrassed her. She
had sought his help so she could hardly fail to thank him, but there was more
between them than his kindness and her gratitude. There was that kiss she could
not forget and the unmistakable attraction that grew with his nearness. She was
more conscious of his presence than other men.
    She waited until the Norman physic was done and the knights
had collected Feigr. They rode across the bridge over the castle’s moat, she in
front of Sir Geoffroi on his chestnut stallion and Feigr with Sir