"Ran off?" Hugh barked. "Why did you not say so at once?"
"Well, I assumed she ran inside..." His voice trailed away and he grimaced and added, "As you had when she first started back to the castle. I take it she did not return to the castle?"
"Nay." Hugh turned in a slow circle, searching the surrounding trees. When he didn't see any sign of his wife, he started back the way they had come.
"She may have gone back inside after we came out," Lucan suggested, falling in beside him.
Hugh grunted at the possibility, then stopped and suddenly turned back, nearly crashing into his cousin. Stepping around him, he let his gaze skate over the area around the tree. "Where is my sword?"
"She took it with her," Jollivet announced, then glanced down and smiled. "In fact, 'twas too heavy for her and she was dragging it."
Hugh followed Jollivet's gaze and relaxed when he saw the trail the end of the sword had left behind. The three men began to follow it.
"There you are!" Lord Wynekyn's call brought them to a halt as they emerged from the trees. All three men peered up from the trail to frown at the man. Lord Wynekyn blinked in surprise at their unanimous irritation. His expression turned wary as he said to Hugh and Lucan, "You rushed off through the kitchens without a word. I became worried that something was wrong."
"Gawain has killed Alsneta and attacked Willa," Jollivet told him. "I had to dispatch the fellow."
"You did?" Lord Wynekyn was clearly astonished.
"Despite being a fop, my cousin is - and always has been - quite handy with the great sword. He trained under my father," Hugh announced stoutly. It was true, of course, but he probably wouldn't have bothered defending the younger man if it were not for the fact that he'd just saved Willa's life. They'd been sparring all their lives... it was how they showed affection. Jollivet annoyed Hugh with taunts of his being an uncouth barbarian, and he responded with the dandy and fop comments. The two of them were very close.
"Oh." Lord Wynekyn sounded doubtful, but Hugh didn't have time to bother with the matter. Lowering his head, he found the trail and began to follow it again. Lucan and Jollivet immediately fell into step on either side of him.
"What are we doing?" Lord Wynekyn asked as they started around the corner of the castle and Hugh realized the man had fallen in line behind them.
"We are following Willa," Lucan told him.
"We are?" Lord Wynekyn again sounded doubtful. "Should we not be looking up then? It might be easier to find her that way."
"She was dragging Hugh's sword behind her," Jollivet explained. "We are following the trail to find Willa."
"She has Hugh's sword?" Lord Wynekyn asked. "If she had your sword, are you sure that 'twas Jollivet who saved her and not the other way around?"
"I am sure!" Jollivet growled and stopped abruptly. "Damn me! Display a few manners, and speak courteously and everyone thinks you are a - "
He halted abruptly as Hugh turned in surprise at his outburst. After a brief struggle that showed on his face, he relaxed. His usual smirk came to the fore. "Ah well..."
Jollivet turned his attention back to the trail and continued following it. The other three men exchanged glances, then joined him. None of them had ever before seen Jollivet lose his temper over the fop business. They all kept casting him curious glances, but no one said anything as they followed the trail along the side of the keep wall.
"Damn!" Hugh cursed when they reached the bailey in front of the keep and the trail suddenly ended. It had been trampled under carts and footprints and horses' hooves.
"What is going on there?" Lucan asked. Hugh followed his gaze to find a large crowd of soldiers and peasants gathered around the practice area.
His expression grim, Hugh strode forward. He had a feeling that Willa would be somehow involved in whatever spectacle held everyone's attention. She did seem to be at the center of things whenever there was trouble.
Aware that the other men were following, he pushed his way through the growing crowd. Hugh paused, however, when he reached the inner circle and saw that it was, indeed, his wife who had drawn this crowd. Willa had dragged his sword to the practice area and was presently hacking at a quintain. Which would be fine, except it was one used for jousting practice. The bag of sand on one end was swinging around with every hit. Not that she seemed to notice. She was simply following the shield on the other end, hacking away as she walked in circles. She appeared to be monstrous angry. It was the only explanation for her surprising show of strength.
"What is she doing?" Lord Wynekyn asked with alarm.
"You can see what she is doing," Hugh pointed out.
"Aye. But why?"
Hugh didn't know the answer to that. However, as her husband, he supposed it was his duty to find out. Moving forward, he began to follow his wife around the turning quintain.
"Wife?"
Her response was a grunt. Since no one was close enough to hear, Hugh decided it was sufficient acknowledgment of his presence. "What are you doing?"
"I am practicing."
"Practicing?" he repeated with disbelief. "Why?"
Much to his amazement a growl slid from her throat. Then she snarled, "Because not another life shall be lost for mine. If I'd had Baldulf and the others train me these last ten years, I could have saved Alsneta. But nay! " Her blows came faster and harder. "I let everyone else care for me. I must learn to care for myself!"
Hugh felt his heart turn painfully in his chest. She was now blaming herself for Alsneta's death as well as the others'. It was the seat of her present rage, a rage that had probably grown over the years as she had helplessly witnessed the deaths of those she loved. Hugh understood the ache and anger she was suffering. He wasn't sure how to help her ease it, though.
He started out trying the "Me warrior, you wife" tactic. "Nay, Willa," he said firmly. "I will care for you. I am your husband. I will keep you safe."
"As you did in the orchard?"
Aye, that had been the wrong approach, he thought as her words burned him. Damn. Willa had aimed her words well. He already felt a great deal of guilt over not keeping her safe and her words pointed out that he had failed her again. First he'd allowed her to be poisoned, then he'd nearly seen her burned alive, and now he had almost lost her to Gawain's sword.
Hugh was indulging in a nice round of self-recrimination when a knock to the head sent him stumbling. Cursing, he turned to glare at the turning sandbag that had crashed into him and nearly got popped again. Stepping quickly out of the way, he hurried after his wife.
"Willa, I realize I have failed you - " That got her attention. She stopped abruptly and turned to gape at him.
"What? Nay, my lord! You have never failed me."
Hugh would have been more reassured if he didn't know it was a lie... and if she didn't have the sword upraised and wavering in her trembling hands. He watched it warily and opened his mouth to speak, but she wasn't finished.
"Why, you have saved my life many times. You killed the attacker in the clearing ere he could get into the cottage."
"The wolves killed him," he pointed out dryly.
"You slowed him down until the wolves could help you," she argued. "Then you saved my life when I was poisoned, too."
"Eada saved you with her potions. I merely held your head as you... purged."
"You let me purge in your lap, too," she said stoutly. They both grimaced at that, and she rushed on, "Then you saved my life today and got me out of that fire."
"I - " Hugh closed his mouth. He couldn't argue with that one. He'd finally done something right. Then his gaze moved over her soot-streaked face, and down over the singed ends of her hair to the scorched gown she still wore. She was beautiful.
"My lord husband." Willa let the sword fall. Hugh was forced to leap to the side to avoid being cleaved in half. Hardly seeming to notice, she stepped forward and touched his cheek in the same affectionate gesture he'd been jealous of Baldulf receiving earlier. Hugh felt warmth seep through him. Her expression held the same warmth he'd yearned for when she'd looked at the soldier.
"You are a strong and brave husband. You will keep me safe to the best of your abilities, I know. But there will be times when you are not near and I will have to rely on myself."
"I will have guards - "
"I do not wish to spend the rest of my life imprisoned by my own guards. Besides, Baldulf was guarding me today. All it took was a candle holder to the head to make him useless. Had she wished to kill me, Alsneta probably could have done so then. You cannot be with me at all times. I must learn to defend myself."
"She is right, Hugh."
He turned a startled glance to find that Lucan had joined them. As had Jollivet and Lord Wynekyn. The crowd had also pressed closer. Hugh's gaze moved back to his wife. He contemplated her for a moment, then gave in and stepped forward to take her hands and shift them on the sword.
"If you must do this, you shall do it right. This is how you hold a sword," he instructed and Willa cast him a smile that made his stomach roll.
"She is improving."
Hugh grunted at that approving comment from Jollivet as they watched Willa and Lucan spar. It had been a month since Alsneta had died saving Willa's life. The time had passed without incident and the days had taken on a pattern. The pattern was that Willa got up in the morning, grabbed a crust of bread, downed a mug of meade and harried Hugh out to the practice field. She then spent the whole day there until the evening meal.
Hugh grimaced. It had been worse when they had first started this routine. When Hugh had insisted on being the one to train her. That had proven to be the most frustrating chore he had ever taken on. He still didn't understand why the activity had chafed so much. Hugh was a good trainer of warriors. He'd learned from the best, his father, and had proven himself the most patient of men over the years. However, Willa had managed to drive him mad several times before Lucan had suggested that he take over the chore.
As much as he hated to admit it, that arrangement had worked out much better. At least there was less friction between Willa and himself. Now he went about the daily business of running Hillcrest and Claymorgan, occasionally stopping to watch as she worked in the practice field with Lucan and, lately, Jollivet. His cousin had not gotten involved in the training at first. He'd devoted himself to Hugh's request that he aid Willa with her wardrobe. Jollivet had spent the first few weeks overseeing Eada and several other women who had proven themselves handy with a needle. It was only this last week that Jollivet had decided her wardrobe was moving along nicely and he could turn his attention to other things. Since then, he'd joined Lucan in training Willa. Now Hugh and his cousin stood watching Willa slam her sword against Lucan's and wince as her arm vibrated with the impact. She was starting to look weary.
Hugh glanced toward the sky, not surprised to see that the sun was still high. It was not yet time to lead his weary wife in to the evening meal. No matter how much she hurt after her practice, Willa would follow him to the table and suffer through the meal in silence. Tiny winces were the only sign of the aching muscles she suffered as she lifted the food and drink to her mouth.
Once she'd managed to swallow the last of her food, Willa would drag her exhausted body up to their chamber. Hugh would follow close on her heels to massage liniment into her sore muscles, taking liberties along the way. If she were not too tired, those liberties would arouse Willa, and they would make love. Hugh contemplated the chances of that happening tonight, but didn't think they were good. She looked more exhausted than he had seen her since the start of her training a month ago.
"Lucan must have worked her harder than usual," he commented.
Jollivet shook his head. "No more than customary. There is no need. She improves daily. 'Tis as if she were born to it. She should have been a man."
"Dear God, Jollivet," Hugh growled. "She is not a man. And she is mine. Stop looking at her like a leg of mutton. Why are you still here, anyway?"
"I have been asking myself that question much of late. Unfortunately, I promised to help outfit Willa." He pursed his lips with displeasure. "Equally unfortunate, your wife has more interest in fighting than in gowns lately. 'Tis terribly tough going. I can barely make her stand still long enough for a fitting. Other than that, she has left everything up to me." He brightened. "Of course, I have magnificent taste. And Eada and a couple of the other women around here are marvelous seamstresses. The wardrobe is coming along nicely. There are already several gowns done and more nearly finished."
"Then why has she not worn one of them?" Hugh asked with irritation.
"She says they will just get ruined at practice," Jollivet announced with disgust.
Hugh grunted at that.
"Have you heard back from Lackland?" Jollivet asked suddenly.
"King John, to you," Hugh said shortly, then shook his head. He'd sent a letter to the king the day after the attack in the orchard. He'd explained the contents of the letter from his uncle and the latest attempts on Willa's life. He'd stated that he should like to pledge his fealty as the new earl of Hillcrest at King John's earliest convenience, and would appreciate his aid in resolving this situation. Hugh would not have Willa's father and cousin continuing to try to kill her. Unfortunately, Jollivet had been forced to kill Gawain before Hugh could speak to him. Which meant he could not prove the man had been hired by Garrod or Lord D'Orland, but Hugh was hoping that just involving the king might end the attacks.
Perhaps it had, Hugh thought. There had been no further attacks on Willa since he'd sent the letter. But then Gawain, whom Hugh suspected had been paid off by Garrod to kill Willa, had been removed. Then, too, Hugh had stationed men at the gates to stop anyone who was not known to them from entering the bailey. He just wished the king would answer his missive. Surely enough time had passed for him to have received and responded to it?