Chapter Twenty-Three

“W ake up!” the high-pitched voice whispered in her ear. “Before they come back.”

Eyreka struggled to rouse herself from a blackness that seemed unnatural. As she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw jarred her back to the present. Angelique’s face was inches from her own. A smudge of dirt slashed across the little girl’s chin, a purple bruise blossomed beneath her left eye, and her ice-blue eyes were filled with fear.

Eyreka reached up and cupped the side of Angelique’s face. “Who hit you, lass?” she asked softly.

“The bad man,” she answered, gravely looking over her left shoulder.

Eyreka followed her glance, her gaze resting on the group of men hunched around a small fire, shoveling food into their faces. Any one of them would have fit that description.

“Which one,” she asked patiently.

Angelique pursed her mouth and frowned. “The one who hit you.”

Totally exasperated, Eyreka raised herself up on one elbow and tried to sound patient, “I did not get a good look at him, can you tell me what he looked like?”

The little girl’s eyes widened and then narrowed, as she watched the men. “The one sitting apart from the circle,” she whispered, pointing to the largest man in the group.

Eyreka focused on the warrior and felt an icy coldness seep into her bones. Aaron! She recognized him at last. Owen of Sedgeworth’s vassal. Fear threatened to overwhelm her, remembering the way Aaron had attacked Garrick’s wife… Jillian had almost died. What could he possibly have to gain by abducting Angelique, she wondered, never even considering that she was the true target.

She sat up and belatedly noticed that she was soaked, “Did it rain?”

Angelique turned back to look at her. Eyreka decided not to tell her that she knew their captor, or that he was a ruthless man who had no conscience… worse still, he had no soul. She sighed and watched Angelique’s midnight black brows arching high before settling into a frown once more. “He hit you hard, didn’t he,” she asked, sounding concerned.

“Aye.” Eyreka rubbed her jaw lightly, but her breath still caught in her throat as a fresh shaft of pain radiated from the left side of her face, all the way up to her temple. “Very hard.”

“I’ve been trying to listen,” Angelique confessed, “though I don’t know how it will help my idea.”

Eyreka almost laughed aloud. Augustin’s daughter had backbone… She had the grit to want to do something about their situation. She decided then and there that she had found a kindred spirit in the little girl. “What idea?” she urged, leaning back against a boulder.

“If we could make the men split up, I could make them chase me.” Her bright-blue eyes glowed with excitement. “Then, you hit them on the head with a really, really big stick,” Angelique finished solemnly.

Eyreka knew there were many reasons the little girl’s plan would not work, but until her addled wits could come up with another plan, she would say nothing. She would cut out her tongue before dashing away the little one’s bright smile of hope.

“My other idea did not work though,” Angelique said frowning.

“Tell me,” Eyreka urged.

“I tore a piece of your bliaut and left bits of it behind to mark our trail.”

“Angelique! What a brave thing to do.” Eyreka praised her. Then she frowned. “But what if they had caught you?” she asked, silently thanking Odin that their captors had not.

“That’s when the bad man hit me,” Angelique said softly.

Eyreka wished she could undo the past, but mayhap ’twas all for the best. Angelique would have a blackened eye, but no other injuries, and mayhap help would find them.

“Let us think of a way to distract our captors then.” Leaning close to Augustin’s daughter, she urged, “And while we are at it, tell me what you’ve heard.”

Angelique repeated almost word for word the conversation she had overheard not one hour past. Their abductors were planning to set a trap for Augustin, and she would be the bait.

Eyreka’s heart turned over in her breast. She had to find a way to stop them before Aaron and his band of cutthroats could put their plans into action. She could not bear to think of anything happening to Angelique. Though prickly, the little girl was bright, courageous, and had a wit that rivaled her youngest son’s.

“What about Papa?” Angelique asked, after sitting silent for long moments.

The thought of a blade bisecting her husband made her blood run cold. Her stomach lurched in protest as she remembered another brave man who had not been able to escape a like fate. Nay! her mind screamed. I cannot lose him, now that I’ve found him, she thought. It was then the full force of her feelings rushed through her making her head light and her breath shallow. She was not falling in love with Augustin… she loved him!

What began as a marriage of necessity, a grand plan to save her family’s home, evolved into a union of two lonely people who were learning to love again. Now it looked as if it would end, as it had the first time, with the man she loved being lured into a trap. If she knew Augustin, and she believed she did, he would fight to the last breath… to the last drop of his warrior’s blood.

I cannot let him die, too. There must be a way… Aaron must have a weakness… something.

“Eyreka.” Angelique shook her arm.

“Aye?”

“’Tis him!” the child whispered, starting to cling to the side of Eyreka’s body, before wiggling behind her, until Angelique was wedged between her and the big rock.

“Who?” she demanded.

“Phillipe,” the child wailed.

“De Jeaneaux?” Eyreka gasped, a noxious combination of anger and fear washing over her.

She could feel the child vigorously nodding her head.

“You know of him, child?” she asked holding on to her anger, pushing the fear from her mind. Instead, concentrating on the little one who so desperately needed her.

“Aye, he is friend to my papa,” she said quietly.

Eyreka felt a shudder rack the little girl’s body. She turned around and pulled Angelique into her arms, holding her close to her heart. It felt right. She never thought to have another daughter.

What a fool not to realize that one did not have to bear a child to be a mother to a child. If Angelique was willing, Eyreka thought, she would gladly offer the tiny bit of her heart that belonged to Freya.

Resolving to change that, Eyreka decided to set things aright and vowed to treat Angelique as if she were the daughter of her flesh, not just the daughter of her heart.

Her heart went out to the young girl in her arms. Angelique’s mother had died in childbirth; she had never known the love of a mother.

“I have met de Jeaneaux,” Eyreka said in a deceptively soft voice.

“Is it true?” Angelique pulled away from her firm hold and looked up at her.

“Is what true?” she prompted.

“Did he try to… did he…” Angelique stopped and hid her face against Eyreka’s breast.

The anguish in her voice finished what Angelique could not say. “Who told you?” Eyreka asked, her voice rough with emotion, ready to choke the person who repeated the story to a little girl.

“No one,” she answered at last. “I heard Nadienne and Bernadette talking about it.”

“Ahh,” Eyreka said softly. “What did you hear?”

“That he tried to hurt you with his… his body,” she said in a tiny voice.

“Aye,” Eyreka said knowing that the two Norman maidservants would have used more coarse words to describe the near-rape, but it was close enough.

“Why would a friend of Papa’s try to hurt you?” The look in Angelique’s eyes showed her confusion.

“Not all men are as honorable as your father,” she began. “Augustin de Chauret is honest and loyal,” Eyreka realized now was the time for truth. “Though he did not want to wed again, I made a bargain with the king, and your papa honored it.”

“Why did he marry you?”

“When I found out that my family’s home was being deeded over to a widowed Norman baron, I offered myself as wife.” Eyreka wanted to offer an uncomplicated explanation, one that would be easy for Angelique to understand.

“Why didn’t he refuse?” the little one persisted.

“Because I convinced the king that Merewood Keep’s people would accept your father as lord if I were to be his wife. Not even your father would dare to refuse the king.”

Angelique nodded her understanding. Though but ten summers, the child was smart as a whip. “But you love him,” she whispered.

“Aye, little one,” Eyreka said, tears flowing down her cheeks. “With all my heart.”

“Then I will learn to love you, too,” Angelique shocked Eyreka by hugging her tight.

*

Augustin gave the signal. The group divided and moved silently toward the fire that blazed against the black of night. The rain stopped. The clouds opened, allowing the full moon to lend an added glow of light, enabling the men to see their prey. Garrick led the group heading off to the left of the encampment, while Augustin led the rest of the men around to the other side. Once his men were in place, Augustin tilted his head to listen for the screech of an owl… Garrick’s signal.

When he heard it, Augustin threw back his head and screamed his own battle cry. The night came alive, humming with sound, as the echoing bone-chilling cry was heard. Garrick, he thought proudly. Augustin and his men charged.

Chaos erupted in front of them as men scrambled to their feet, reaching for their weapons. Augustin raced toward them, his sword arm already descending in a deadly arch.

“Papa!”

His daughter’s scream cut through the familiar sounds of battle, making the hair on his scalp prickle. He spun about on the balls of his feet, ready for the attacker that leaped toward him with arms raised high above his head two-handing his broadsword. Augustin brought his own sword up from beneath his attacker. The man was dead before he hit the ground. But before he could extract his sword, another warrior moved in for the kill. His death would be swift, Augustin thought.

He pulled his sword free and moved to deflect the killing blow. It never came. William had run his sword through the infidel. Before Augustin could nod his thanks, he heard Eyreka cry out, “Archer… to your left!”

He threw himself to the ground, and used the momentum to roll to the edge of the campsite. An arrow quivered, stuck in the tree behind where he had stood moments before. Had he not heeded Eyreka’s warning cry, he would be skewered to that tree… dead.

Looking over his shoulder at his men engaged in battle, he saw that the odds were dwindling on the side of the infidels and rapidly gaining in their favor. As his gaze swept the forest around him, he saw a light-haired man grab Eyreka. He’d thought her safe. Then watched her valiant effort to fight him off, despite the fact that her attacker was nearly thrice her size. He silently cheered her on when she kneed the man… but her attacker did not fall to his knees, he let out a roar of anger.

“Nay!” Angelique cried out, leaping toward the Saxon who attacked Eyreka. As Augustin ran toward them, he saw his daughter kicking and clawing for all she was worth. Mon Dieu , he thought, do not let him hurt her. As he raced to the other side of the clearing, a familiar voice called out, stopping him cold.

“So you did come after your wife,” de Jeaneaux sounded surprised. “I was wrong.”

“And my daughter,” Augustin added seeing Garrick out of the corner of his eye. He nodded and Garrick started to move in from the other side. Augustin was relieved that Eyreka’s son had been gifted with his mother’s quick mind.

“Your daughter?” Phillipe ground out. “The one you spoke of so often?”

“Aye,” Augustin said, circling the warrior. “Who did you think the child was?”

“Your Saxon wife’s,” de Jeaneaux bit out.

“Nay, look closely, you will see that she is a miniature of her mother, Monique,” Augustin said quietly. She has reflexes like her stepmother though, he thought watching the little one try to land one more swift kick to de Jeaneaux’s shins.

“You said the child belonged to the Saxon!” de Jeaneaux shouted at Aaron, who stood straddling Eyreka. That split second was all Augustin needed, he sprang forward, intending to carve a piece out of the Norman infidel. But at the last second, de Jeaneaux swung back around and deflected the force of the blow.

Before Augustin could make a grab for his daughter, the huge warrior, who had so brutally handled his wife, stepped forward out of the shadows and lunged for his daughter. When Angelique eluded him, the warrior moved forward to strike out at her.

“Aaron!” de Jeaneaux bellowed. “Not the child!”

She danced out of his reach again. Incensed, Aaron drew his broadsword and leaped toward the little girl.

De Jeaneaux pushed the child behind him, catching Aaron’s blade in his thigh. He crumbled under the force of the blow.

“Augustin!” Garrick shouted, “On your right!”

Augustin dove to the left, landing on his weak hip. He felt the muscles start to give, but he ground his teeth together and ignored the pain. Rising to his knees, he was ready to fend off the last of the attackers. As his blade connected and the man slid to the ground, he heard Angelique scream. The unholy sound made his heart wrench in his breast. He turned toward the sound of her voice and froze in absolute horror.

The madman who had dared to abduct his women had his broadsword raised above his head, ready to slice down into his little girl. Bile rushed up his throat at the realization that he was too far away to save her.

“No!” Eyreka screamed, flinging a rock at Aaron’s raised arm, forcing it to the side, before throwing herself in front of Angelique.