Page 53 of Bold Angel
Ral released a weary breath. He should have been sorry the whoreson still lived, but his need for the land was so great he felt relieved instead. Then his body tensed with anger. Had he and his men arrived first, the outcome might have been different.
“What happened?” he asked.
“The brigand posted guards in all directions. We had hoped to surprise him, but he had just enough warning to make ready. There were archers in the trees, and in the rocks above us. We felled an ample number, but lost five good men in the bargain.”
“How did you know where to find them?”
“Lord Stephen sent word.”
Ral frowned. He had supped with Malvern only last eve. Stephen must have known about the outlaws, but been careful to make no mention—but then neither had he.
“’Tis a shame the whoreson got away. He’ll keep to himself for a while, but as soon as he marshals more men, hewill return.”And this time, naught on this earth will prevent me from taking his head.
“Aye, my lord. The bastard don’t know when to quit.”
Ral said nothing more, just gathered his men and turned them back toward the road. Even Odo said little along the route home, keenly aware of his friend’s disappointment.
“You will find him,mon ami.The next time you will not fail.”
Ral did not answer. His attention was fixed on a point up the road, on the band of armored men who were riding in his direction.
“Malvern,” Odo said. “Durand has failed to capture the Ferret. Lord Stephen will not be pleased.”
“Durand will have sent word of what has happened. Stephen may not be pleased, but catching the Ferret is of far less consequence to him than it is to me.” They rode toward the men and Ral drew rein next to Stephen, the big black destrier dancing nervously alongside Stephen’s huge gray.
“’Tis too soon for congratulations,” Ral said, “but I am grateful to be rid of the brigands your men have cut down.”
“Travelers will be safer, yet ’twould seem our battle for the Ferret is not done.”
“’Twould seem that is so.”
“Mayhap next time you will find him first.”
Ral forced himself to smile. “You may count on it, Stephen.”
“You almost bested me this time, you know. In fact, ’tis possible you would have—had your pretty little wife not gifted me with the Ferret’s location before she saw fit to tell you.”
At the look of stunned disbelief Ral could not disguise, Stephen smiled with smug satisfaction. “’Twas a gift I hardly expected, but a welcome one, I assure you.” He smiled again as he signaled his men to move forward,then he rode to the head of the column, leaving Ral to stare after him in fury.
“Give her my regards, will you?” he called back over his shoulder.
Ral watched the men ride past, armor clanking, dust rising up from the road. He fisted a gauntleted hand, fury sweeping through him like an angry wave.
“He may not speak the truth,” Odo warned.
“’Tis truth. I can feel it.”
“She is Saxon. I told you she could not be trusted.”
“She is my wife.” His jaw clamped so tight he could barely speak. Savagely sawing on the reins, he jerked Satan around, making the stallion chafe at the bit and nervously dance beneath him, then he started down the road toward the keep. With a last look at Malvern, he nudged the huge horse into a gallop.
***
Stephen de Montreale joined the rest of his forces in the clearing that had been the Ferret’s campsite, and rode straight for his man, Durand. A big brawny knight with a hard jaw and thinning hair, Durand had earned a place among his most trusted soldiers—as long as he was well rewarded.
“You’ve captured the Ferret?” Stephen asked.
“Tied up and well guarded. We’ve kept him out of sight among the trees.”
