Before one of them, sitting rigidly in the saddle, was the boy. Tearle could hardly bear to look at him.
When at last Tearle could meet the boy's eyes his mouth dropped open in shock. For he didn't look into the proud face of a boy, but into the fiery eyes of a girl.
In astonishment he looked back at the men.
"We caught him, my lord," one man said. "Do we take the boy to your brother, or do we kill him here?"
Tearle could only gape at the men. Couldn't they see that they held a girl? Couldn't they tell the difference between girls and boys?
"My lord?" one of the men asked, his voice anxious. "The Peregrines will be here soon."
Tearle regained his composure. He didn't think those Peregrine brothers would stop to talk when they saw their little sister held captive.
"I will take the… child to my brother," Tearle said. And get the girl out of the hands of these louts, he thought.
The men hesitated.
Frowning, Tearle tossed them a bag of coins. "Here, take this. I will deal with this Peregrine myself."
The men's eyes laughed. They had what they wanted, and they couldn't care less what Tearle did with the boy, or what happened to Tearle, for that matter.
One of the men rode beside Tearle and half shoved, half dumped Zared into his saddle. Tearle winced when he saw how tightly the girl's hands were tied. "Go!" he commanded the men. "Before they find you."
They hesitated not a second longer before they spurred their horses toward the Peregrine lands. Tearle fastened his arm around the girl's slim waist, hugged her body close to his, and rode hard and fast into the king's forest.
Chapter Two
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Tearle lost himself in the forest, leaving the paths that centuries of villagers' feet had carved, and slipped deep into the dark recesses between the giant oak trees. As he rode he held the girl before him, feeling her slim back against his chest, her slim, strong legs against his. Once a low-hanging branch threatened to hit her, and he put out his hand to protect her, the branch painfully cutting into the back of his hand. Another time, as he leaned forward to duck a branch, he put his face in the curve of her neck, her soft hair on his face.
He smiled as they rode. Oliver thought he knew all there was to know about the Peregrines, yet he'd never guessed that the youngest son was actually a girl. The Peregrines were right for keeping her gender a secret, for Oliver seemed to be particularly fascinated by the Peregrine females.
He pulled his horse up sharply when he entered a secluded glade. He dismounted, then pulled the girl down before him. Her hands were still tied behind her back, and she was alone with her enemy, but her eyes showed no fear.
He put his hands on her shoulders and looked down at her. Her worn, dirty tunic reached to mid-thigh, and from there down her legs were encased in tight knit hose, her little feet in soft boots that reached to her knee. Her dark hair, showing red even in the shadows of the forest, was shoulder-length, curling under at the ends, and she wore a jaunty little cap with a feather on one side.
For the first time since leaving France he was feeling some interest in life. What an intriguing female she was, he thought, remembering watching her train with her brothers. He suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to remount his horse and take her back with him to his brother's estate. The place was so big he could no doubt hide her there.
Zared looked at the man who held her by the shoulders, a big man with dark hair and eyes—and the unmistakable look of a Howard about him. The men who had captured her had called him lord, so he must be the long-missing youngest Howard brother.
Zared had heard stories of this younger brother, so evil he'd had to be sent away to France with his she-devil mother when he was just a boy. Looking at him she could believe all the stories about him. On the ride into the forest he'd felt her body as though to see if she were plump enough for roasting. And his beady little black eyes were glittering as though he meant to have her for a feast.
Lunatic, she thought, and she would have crossed herself in protection if her hands hadn't been tied.
While he stood there looking at her as a starving man might look at a meal, she tried to make a plan. She could never have escaped three of the Howard men, but she had a chance with one madman. If she could get him to untie her hands, perhaps she could get to the knife hidden in her boot. With a weapon she could, perhaps, fight him off. He was big, true, but he might be as lazy as his brother, and his large size could be attributed to fat instead of muscle.
"What is your name?" he asked.
"Peregrine!" she hissed at him. If he did not untie her, if he meant to kill her, she would not disgrace her family by dying a coward.
"Your Christian name," he said softly, his eyes gentle.
What trick is this? she thought. Did he think to make her believe there was anything but evil in him? "My brothers will kill you," she said. "They will take you apart piece by piece."
He smiled a bit. "Yes, I imagine they would." He took a jewel-handled dagger from his belt, and Zared took a step backward involuntarily.
"I don't mean to hurt you," he said, talking to her as though she were a frightened wild animal.