The Warrior's Runaway Wife. Denise Lynn
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He grabbed his mantle, which, after it had been dried by the fire, had been laid alongside the pallet, and covered her with the fur-lined garment. After tucking the edges tightly around her, he rose and stared at a wayward ebony lock of hair resting against the paleness of her cheek.
He had to give Brandr credit for one thing at least. The man could be a traitorous viper at the best of times, but he had produced a very lovely daughter.
Elrik joined his men near the fire.
Just as he stretched his legs out to get comfortable, Fulke asked, ‘How are you going to deliver her to King David if she falls from her horse and breaks her neck first?’
Not one to let a question go without comment, Samuel said, ‘It isn’t her neck we should be worried about. At the rate we are travelling, it’ll be our own necks in danger.’
Sometimes, like now when complaining seemed the current activity of choice, Elrik had to remind himself that these were more than just childhood friends, they were his two best men—they could both sleep in the saddle while still retaining control of their horses, both were handy with a blade be it a sword or a dagger and both men would always protect his back if the need arose. So, enduring their complaints was usually bearable.
This was not one of those nights. ‘The pace will pick up tomorrow and she’ll not break her neck.’
When Samuel opened his mouth, Elrik glared at him. The dark look gained him the result he’d desired—the man closed his mouth without saying another word.
To Avelyn’s relief, she’d slept well on the hardness of the ground. It was more like her old pallet at her mother’s than the over-soft, lumpy mattress in her shared chamber at her father’s keep. For the first time in what seemed ages, she’d awakened feeling rested, although a bit stiff, and ready to continue their journey.
She did wish, however, they could do so on foot instead of on the back of a horse.
Well aware that her wish would not be considered, she studied the horse being led in her direction. It was the one she’d ridden yesterday, the smallest of the four, but as far as she was concerned the only difference size made was in the distance to the ground—the fall would still hurt as much.
What did catch her attention was the saddle. The one she’d used yesterday—with the shorter pommel and cantle—had been placed on Roul’s animal, while his saddle, with the high front and back meant to help keep him seated during a battle, was on her horse. Lashed to the inside of both the pommel and the cantle was a rolled-up blanket.
That wasn’t the only difference. The stirrups had been cinched higher so that she’d be riding with her knees slightly bent, instead of hanging straight down, and a lead string had been secured to the reins.
Roul held his hand out. ‘Come, we need to make up for lost time.’
She hesitantly took a step forward and grasped his hand.
The fingers closing around hers were warm and a smile curved up the corners of his mouth, lending Avelyn a small amount of courage as she joined him alongside the horse.
He stroked his free hand the length of the animal’s nose. ‘I didn’t properly introduce you yesterday as I should have. Avelyn, this is Little Lady and she’s helped train more guards than I can count.’
‘You brought her along to train a guard?’
With his fingers still woven between hers, he raised their hands to the horse’s head. ‘No. I was uncertain if the runaway I sought could ride or not.’
He stroked the animal’s neck with their entwined hands. ‘And since I’ve discovered that she cannot, I am giving Little Lady here a task she is well suited to perform.’
From the way the animal eyed her, Avelyn got the impression she was not exactly a welcome task.
Roul nudged her shoulder with his. ‘Relax. She’s never bitten or thrown anyone.’
Under her breath, Avelyn muttered, ‘Yet.’
His laugh let her know that her comment had been heard.
It wasn’t until he grasped the lead string with one hand and rested the other hand on her shoulder that she noticed she was stroking the horse alone—his hand no longer covered hers. Avelyn frowned.
How had he managed that without her knowledge?
From the solid wall of warmth at her back she knew that while he might have released her hand and moved behind her while she’d remained unaware, he’d stayed close enough to prevent anything from happening. She stiffened her spine.
He lightly squeezed her shoulder. ‘I’ll be this close for the entire journey. Nothing is going to harm you.’
She wasn’t certain what bothered her more—the heated breath rushing against her ear, his nearness that made her feel protected yet threatened at the same time, his words promising her she’d come to no harm, or the sudden realisation that he wasn’t going to give her any chance to escape.
‘Ready?’
As much as she wanted to tell him no, she knew they weren’t going to stand here for ever. ‘I suppose.’
‘Up with you.’ He lifted her on to the saddle before she could change her mind and handed her the reins. ‘Lady will follow my horse’s lead. You need do nothing to guide her.’
He adjusted the roll of blankets behind her, wedging it tighter between her body and the cantle, then did the same with the roll in front. ‘These should keep you from sliding around on the saddle. If you feel unsteady, hang on to the pommel.’
After checking the length of the stirrups, he rested a hand on her knee and looked up, assuring her, ‘You will be fine. Just try to relax.’
Through the layers of her tunic and chemise, she felt the warmth of his touch. And he wanted her to relax? She nodded. ‘I shall try.’
Elrik mounted his horse and tucked the end of the lead string behind his belt. Since Little Lady would follow along without baulking, he knew he didn’t need to keep a tight hold on her lead.
Once they were on the road, his men split up, Fulke in front and Samuel behind. With them guarding the road, Elrik was better able to keep his attention on Avelyn.
Even though they were moving faster than they had yesterday, her rigid back and near-white knuckles from gripping the reins so tightly made him wonder how long she’d be able to keep up this pace.
Elrik rarely remained at King David’s court longer than absolutely necessary. The times he had tarried overlong, he’d discovered that few, if any, of the men and women in attendance wanted anything to do with David’s Wolf.
However, he had been called to court often enough to notice the actions and manners of the people there and he’d seen enough women of substance on horseback to realise that learning to