A Lily on the Heath (Medieval Herb Garden 4)

By the time she recovered and stepped onto the lowest branch, however, he was waiting there. She didn’t even have the chance to ease herself off the branch before Malcolm snatched her down.

Judith staggered a bit as he placed her quickly and unceremoniously on her feet, but before he could speak, she launched herself back into his arms. “Thank you, Mal,” she cried, throwing her arms up around his broad shoulders. “Oh, I do not know how you—all of you,” she added, looking beyond his mail-covered arm at the others in the clearing, “came to be here, but thank you! ’Tis a miracle you found me!”

Mal, who seemed to have naught to say, set her back from him almost as quickly as she’d gotten there, but Judith cared not. Now that she was on the ground, she had other things on her mind. After all, she’d been up a tree for four hours. “I must needs have some privacy,” she said, gesturing to the woods.

But though she started off quickly, Judith halted at Piall’s body. One of the younger men—Mal’s squire, she thought—had already begun to cover it, but that did little good to hide the horrible sight. Her stomach lurched and she pressed a hand against her mouth, sickened by the carnage as well as the knowledge he was gone. “Oh, Piall,” she managed to say, closing her eyes tightly. Her breath hitched and her insides churned. ’Twas a terrible, needless loss.

“There’s no need for you to look at him, my lady,” someone said kindly. A large hand brushed her shoulder and gently directed her toward the forest. She glanced up at Lord Dirick, whose handsome face was serious and sympathetic. “See to your needs, and we will attend to your man. ”

The reality of the situation settling heavy on her, Judith walked into the woods on unsteady feet and did what she needed to do. She cried a bit, too, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. Piall had given his life for her—because of her whim to go hunting, and because he was insistent on being her protector. The guilt weighed heavily on her, and Judith stayed in the woods mayhap longer than she needed to. When she returned to the clearing, she caught Mal’s eye; he’d been watching for her. He stood to the side, tying up the reins of a massive warhorse to a sturdy tree. She nodded at him, allowing her grief to show, then turned to find that the carnage from the slain dogs was being attended to.

“They must be burned,” Mal told her as he came over. She felt his attention settle on her scraped cheek, but he said naught about it. “For if another animal eats the tainted meat, the madness will spread. ” As if to emphasize his words, the horses standing to the side of the clearing stomped and snorted, their eyes a little wild at the scent of tainted blood.

“Aye,” Judith said, then turned to eye the tree once more. She considered for a moment, then drew in a breath and exhaled. Her decision was made. Piall’s death would not be completely in vain.

“What are you doing, my lady?” Mal demanded when he saw her approach the tall pine. He’d been helping to dig a burial hole with the point of his long, triangular shield and now he stood upright.

Despite the pain in her arms from the slide down the trunk, Judith knew she must climb up again. “Holbert, if you please?” she ordered.

Her man knew what she wished, and the next thing she knew, Judith was back in the lower branch of the tree. Her metal-tipped boots worked just as well as they had before, and though she’d been up and down the span of branches many times since arriving here, Judith climbed once more. This time, though, her muscles protested and trembled with effort. But she was stubborn. This journey would yield some good, she hoped.

A short time later, once more at the nest which held the two eyases—now no longer as hungry, due to her sharing the bit of dried meat with them—she carefully scooped them out. Their mouths opened wide and silent, they froze in obvious terror as she bundled them into the soft linen cloth from her pouch. “Poor things,” she murmured, taking care not to injure the delicate wings. ’Twas a risk to take them from the nest so small, but if she left them there, they would surely die.

/> Then, just as carefully—and with no little bit of pain—she made her way back down to the ground.

“Judith!” a voice exclaimed as her feet touched the blood-soaked grass.

She turned to see Hugh de Rigonier, along with Fleuwelling and Castendown and a contingent of other men now gathered in the clearing. Mayhap the horn she’d heard earlier had been a signal to them.

Still carefully holding the bundle of baby raptors, she greeted Hugh as he maneuvered over, still mounted on his horse. His arms strained to keep the massive beast under control, and she was forced to step back from the dancing hooves.

“You are safe,” he said, looking down at her. “Praise be. ”

“All in thanks to Warwick,” she told him. “But Piall is dead. ”

“I am aggrieved to hear that. ” Hugh tightened the reins in his hand and leaned down toward her. “But you are unhurt?”

“’Tis time to ride,” Malcolm announced. “If we mean to return to Clarendon before ’tis full dark. Nevril, you and Barth stay with Castendown and Fleuwelling and see that all the remains are buried. ” He glanced at Judith. “I fear the same must be done for your man as well,” he said. “For he was attacked by the mad dogs and carries the taint. ”

She nodded, her eyes filling with sudden tears. Even worse than she’d imagined. “Aye. Though he has died unshriven, I will speak with Father Anselm about paying an indulgence for him. Mayhap there is yet hope of saving his soul. ”

Malcolm nodded, his expression softening slightly. He looked as if he were about to speak, but Hugh interrupted. “Lady Judith rides with me. ” He dismounted, his feet thudding onto the ground with the jangle of chain mail.

“Wait, Hugh,” she said as he reached for her. She hesitated, then went to Holbert. “Piall had a small cage. Mayhap—”

“Aye, my lady. I’ll find it. Or make one,” Holbert assured her, carefully taking the bundle of birds she offered. “But now you must get you back to the keep. I smell rain in the air again, and night is due to fall. ” His expression was as grim as she felt and she patted his arm.

“Many thanks,” she told him, then swept her attention over the men in the clearing. Several of them were still digging graves for the dogs, and it would take them some time. “Thank you all. ”

Hugh lifted her onto his horse, and the beast shifted and pranced at her light weight. But she’d hardly settled on the back, riding astride due to her man’s breeches, when Hugh swung up in front of her. She wrapped her arms around his waist and prepared for a long ride back to Clarendon.

Mal rode at the head of the small contingent. Dirick of Ludingdon was next to him, but they trotted along in silence. Somewhere behind was Lady Judith, sitting on the back of de Rigonier’s horse, her hose-clad legs clamped around the beast in an unfeminine manner, her arms around the man. That, Mal found, was a mental image nearly as bothersome as the one he’d had on the journey to find her. And so he trained his attention on other matters.

They would be fortunate to reach Clarendon before sundown, but at the least they were a large enough group—as well as armed and armored—that they needn’t fear any threat from bandits or wild animals.

The group was less than an hour into its journey when a shout from behind caught Mal’s attention. He reined in Alpha and turned to see a cluster of his companions standing in the road. Some had dismounted and others merely gathered around de Rigonier’s horse. He could see Judith’s bright hair among the group. She was standing on the ground aback from the men, and though any other woman might be complaining or weeping about the delay, about being tired or cold or hungry…she was merely standing there watching.

Muttering a curse, Mal directed Alpha back to them.