Page 52 of Bold Angel
Caryn leaned forward in her chair, suddenly alert. Much as she loathed Lord Stephen, the danger to Ral would be lessened greatly with the help of Malvern and his men.
“Then again,” Stephen said, “I do not believe he would accept it.”
Inwardly, she groaned. Nay, he would not. Then a different thought occurred. “If you knew where to find the outlaws, would you seek them out?” Lord Stephen was ruthless, and as fearsome in battle as Ral. What difference, which of the men accomplished the feat, as long as the brigands were captured?
He shifted in his chair, surveying her with renewed interest. “If they camp somewhere to the north as I have heard said, I could send word to my men at Malvern. They are sufficient in number to see the blackguard’s days ended.”
“Lord Raolfe would not approve of my telling. I would not wish it discovered.” But if it would keep him and the other men safe, the risk would be worth it.
“You know where they are?”
“I discovered only this eve. Word came to me from the village.”
“Why would you tell me?”
Why indeed?She felt uneasy about it, but the idea of Ral being injured or killed made her feel far worse. “Iwould see the outlaws’ raiding put to an end.”I would see my husband home and safe.“’Twould seem the more men seeing it done, the better the chance for success.”
He smiled. “As I said, I would be happy to lend my support.”
She hesitated only a moment. “They are camped near Chevrey Pass on the River Eden.”
“You are certain of this?”
“Word comes from a trusted source, though I cannot say how long the outlaws will remain there.”
He surveyed her a moment more, turned in his chair, and called for one of his men. A rawboned knight appeared from the shadows, listened as Stephen whispered in his ear, nodded his understanding, and strode from the hall.
“Durand leaves for Malvern in all haste. He will gather men there and ride for Chevrey. I will leave on the morrow, as I had planned. With any luck, the Ferret and his men will long have been captured by the time I reach Chevrey Pass.”
Caryn smiled. “Thank you, my lord.”
“Thankyou,Lady Caryn.” His expression looked so smug, Caryn suddenly wished she hadn’t told him. Sweet Jesu, she prayed she had done the right thing.
Chapter Eleven
Wearing his chain mail hauberk, his shield close at hand, Ral sat astride his big black destrier on the hill overlooking what had once been the Ferret’s camp.
“God’s wounds,” Odo said, “again we are too late.”
A muscle jumped in Ral’s cheek. “So it would seem. ’Twould also appear that Malvern was not.” He swore a savage oath as he urged the big horse forward, leading his men down the slope into the camp. It was littered with debris: overturned cooking pots, upended wineskins, sleeping pallets, weapons, and clothing. Several plumes of smoke rose up from dying fires—and the bodies of at least thirty men lay sprawled across the clearing.
Ral rode forward, searching for the corpse of the Ferret, his chest taut with bitter disappointment that he had failed the people of his village. If only he had returned from the hunt a few hours early. If only Lord Stephen hadn’t been at Braxston when he arrived. If only he had ridden out that night instead of waiting for his hated enemy to leave.
Ral worked a muscle in his jaw. The Ferret would no longer plague them, but there would be no new land to clear and plant, and without it, no way to refill the stores he had depleted in order to build the keep.Sooner or later, the people of Braxston would suffer. Ral grimaced to think of what lay ahead.
He skirted a group of Malvern’s men but still saw no sign of the Ferret—or what remained of him. Picking his way between the knights and men-at-arms who searched for plunder among the fallen bodies, he recognized a big knight named Durand, apparently the leader of Stephen’s men, and rode in that direction.
“’Twould appear you have done a good day’s work, Durand.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
“Does Lord Stephen mean to join you?”
“Even now he rides in this direction.”
“What of the Ferrett?” Ral asked. “I did not see his body.”
Lifting off his conical helmet, Durant hesitated, then shook his head. “Escaped, my lord, with about twenty men.”
