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Authors: Robyn Carr
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please, let it not be so! ”
Archers lined the walls, bows ready and quivers in place. She looked around, turning full circle, her hair slipping from under the cap and falling to her shoulders. A choking sob escaped her and she covered her mouth. She could not get out, she could not go to him. Was he safe? Would he be killed? The troop who had waited to escort them to safety was being attacked by Gifford riders. But Dylan was not with them. He was in the trees against the wall.
“ From the wall. Archers ready. ”
“ No! ” she screamed, but to no avail. There was commotion and a flurry of arrows. She knew that Dylan must be running for the tethered horses in the wood. “ No, ” she screamed again, fearing she would go mad. Peasant clothes, no armor, no weapon save the scythe he had taken.
“ Is it a deFrayne? ”
“ No colors, my lord. It could be anyone, but he flees and so he dies. ”
“ He ’ s crossing the field! Bowman! Draw! ”
“ Too late. He ’ s in the trees. Send riders. ”
Anne ’ s fists pressed against her mouth and she shook with terror. Her pockets were stuffed with her minor jewels, her disguise was in her basket, and tears flowed down her pale cheeks. Anyone who looked closely might guess that she was prepared for flight. Suddenly, a hand, heavy and strong, rested on her shoulder and turned her around. She looked into the angry eyes of her father.
“ My God, ” Ferris said in a breath. “ ‘ Tis true. You would betray us! ”
“ Betray you? ” She shouted in hurt, furious pain. “ Betray what? Your war against your king? Your foul, senseless hatred? What, Father, do I betray? Not my heart! Never! ”
Ferris looked into the eyes of his daughter, eyes filled with agony and terror and hopelessness. He knew he was too late. “ Had you made away, you might have been killed, ” he whispered, shaking her.
A high shriek of hysteria escaped her. She had lost her chance. Death seemed no worse than what she felt now. “ I don ’ t care, ” she cried. “ I love him! ”
“ Oh my sweet Ann e, how I prayed you would not .. . ”
“ Father, ” she cried, dropping the basket and falling into his embrace in anguish she had never before known. Ferris lifted her into his arms, her head against his chest, and carried her toward the hall. She clung to him in her misery, no longer caring who knew, no longer caring if they chose to strip her to naked flesh and nail her to the gate. She sobbed, her insides tearing at her. Despite her father ’ s strong arms capably bearing her to the hall, she never felt so alone. She wished to die.
“ What is the matter with her? ” Marcella ’ s sharp voice inquired as Anne was carried into the common room.
“ Minerva has died. The lass is in despair. ”
“ Well, tell the girl to gather her wits. We ’ ve more than old Minerva to worry about. There are deFraynes at our gate. ”
“ Leave the child be, ” Ferris said, ignoring her passion and continuing to the stair.
“ Ferris, God above, put that wench down and get to your horse. DeFrayne blood is at hand. Isn ’ t that more important than an old woman ’ s death? ”
“ Marcella, ” he shouted, his face nearly turning purple. “ You have no mercy in your heart. ” He shook his head in denial. “ Leave my daughter alone! ”
***
Ten days passed after the battle at the cross between the deFrayne troop and Gifford riders. Anne ’ s deep despair and unrelenting tears were passed off as grief over Minerva ’ s death. Ferris did not speak of the true reason and looked at his daughter with pity. And he watched her very closely.
Four bodies wearing the deFrayne livery were brought to Raedelle, but Dylan was not among the dead. While there was some relief in his spared life, there was little hope, for the guard was tripled and the Raedelle demesne was kept well cleared of any strangers for ten leagues in circumference.
Anne covered her head and picked up her basket, walking
Archers lined the walls, bows ready and quivers in place. She looked around, turning full circle, her hair slipping from under the cap and falling to her shoulders. A choking sob escaped her and she covered her mouth. She could not get out, she could not go to him. Was he safe? Would he be killed? The troop who had waited to escort them to safety was being attacked by Gifford riders. But Dylan was not with them. He was in the trees against the wall.
“ From the wall. Archers ready. ”
“ No! ” she screamed, but to no avail. There was commotion and a flurry of arrows. She knew that Dylan must be running for the tethered horses in the wood. “ No, ” she screamed again, fearing she would go mad. Peasant clothes, no armor, no weapon save the scythe he had taken.
“ Is it a deFrayne? ”
“ No colors, my lord. It could be anyone, but he flees and so he dies. ”
“ He ’ s crossing the field! Bowman! Draw! ”
“ Too late. He ’ s in the trees. Send riders. ”
Anne ’ s fists pressed against her mouth and she shook with terror. Her pockets were stuffed with her minor jewels, her disguise was in her basket, and tears flowed down her pale cheeks. Anyone who looked closely might guess that she was prepared for flight. Suddenly, a hand, heavy and strong, rested on her shoulder and turned her around. She looked into the angry eyes of her father.
“ My God, ” Ferris said in a breath. “ ‘ Tis true. You would betray us! ”
“ Betray you? ” She shouted in hurt, furious pain. “ Betray what? Your war against your king? Your foul, senseless hatred? What, Father, do I betray? Not my heart! Never! ”
Ferris looked into the eyes of his daughter, eyes filled with agony and terror and hopelessness. He knew he was too late. “ Had you made away, you might have been killed, ” he whispered, shaking her.
A high shriek of hysteria escaped her. She had lost her chance. Death seemed no worse than what she felt now. “ I don ’ t care, ” she cried. “ I love him! ”
“ Oh my sweet Ann e, how I prayed you would not .. . ”
“ Father, ” she cried, dropping the basket and falling into his embrace in anguish she had never before known. Ferris lifted her into his arms, her head against his chest, and carried her toward the hall. She clung to him in her misery, no longer caring who knew, no longer caring if they chose to strip her to naked flesh and nail her to the gate. She sobbed, her insides tearing at her. Despite her father ’ s strong arms capably bearing her to the hall, she never felt so alone. She wished to die.
“ What is the matter with her? ” Marcella ’ s sharp voice inquired as Anne was carried into the common room.
“ Minerva has died. The lass is in despair. ”
“ Well, tell the girl to gather her wits. We ’ ve more than old Minerva to worry about. There are deFraynes at our gate. ”
“ Leave the child be, ” Ferris said, ignoring her passion and continuing to the stair.
“ Ferris, God above, put that wench down and get to your horse. DeFrayne blood is at hand. Isn ’ t that more important than an old woman ’ s death? ”
“ Marcella, ” he shouted, his face nearly turning purple. “ You have no mercy in your heart. ” He shook his head in denial. “ Leave my daughter alone! ”
***
Ten days passed after the battle at the cross between the deFrayne troop and Gifford riders. Anne ’ s deep despair and unrelenting tears were passed off as grief over Minerva ’ s death. Ferris did not speak of the true reason and looked at his daughter with pity. And he watched her very closely.
Four bodies wearing the deFrayne livery were brought to Raedelle, but Dylan was not among the dead. While there was some relief in his spared life, there was little hope, for the guard was tripled and the Raedelle demesne was kept well cleared of any strangers for ten leagues in circumference.
Anne covered her head and picked up her basket, walking
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