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Chapter Three

R eynard checked the saddle straps of his horse one last time. All was in order. He only awaited on Richard who had his hands full with his sister, Beatrix.

She stomped her foot. "You cannot leave me here, Richard. Why, what if some man attempts to take advantage of me? Who will defend my honor if you are not here?" she complained bitterly.

Richard continued to see to his horse before he finally turned his attention to his sister. "I doubt any man could withstand your sharp tongue. You will behave yourself and attend the empress as is required of you. That is your duty. Besides, you will soon be on your way to Oxford. I expect you to stay out of trouble," he answered before placing a kiss upon her cheek. He then put his foot into the stirrup and settled into the saddle. "Do not make me regret leaving you alone."

"You shall be sorry the moment you leave Gloucester's gates," she fumed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Heaven help me! How I wish our parents were here at court instead of back home at Lyndhurst," Richard uttered, turning his attention to Reynard. "Can you say something to her to make her behave?"

A burst of laughter left Reynard. "You think I have some kind of control over her?"

"One can only hope," Richard said with a sigh. "Do something about her, Reynard."

"She is your sister," he chuckled.

"But you are like her brother as well. Mayhap you will have some kind of an influence over her since you are of the same age." Richard pulled on the reins turning his horse around. "Behave yourself, sister, and I will see you soon in Oxford."

Beatrix stuck out her tongue before composing her features to face Reynard. "I suppose you think to control me, too, before you leave for Bristol," she said with a frown, "as if you ever could."

"I would not dare," Reynard replied with a slight smile. She appeared so forlorn he felt a moment of pity toward the younger woman who, as Richard had just said, was like the sister he never had. "I know how you enjoy being the center of attention and I would think that you would have more freedom without your brother watching your every move. What has you so upset, Beatrix?"

She widened her eyes as though she were surprised that he could read her so easily. She shrugged and gave a sigh. "I have no friends here, Reynard. No one to confide in or have a friendly conversation. The other women of court only think of me as a lady in waiting to the empress with special privileges. They do not see me for who I am."

He gave her a small grin of understanding. "The cattiness of other women never bothered you before."

"Mayhap not, but their snobbish ways bother me now," she fumed with a stamp of her foot.

"I am certain you will put them in their place by the time we see you again," Reynard teased her, noticing the determined look that filled her eyes.

"You, too, will regret leaving me to my own devices. Why, I shall flirt my way through all the men left here at court. 'Twill teach both you and Richard a lesson for leaving me behind," she said batting her eyes at him and ruining the brief bit of pity he had for her.

Reynard went to her and kissed both of her cheeks. Returning to his horse, he settled into the saddle before reaching for his leather gloves and donning them. He took up the reins. "Do as you must, Beatrix, but in the end, you are the one who will pay the price for your ruination."

"Who said I will be ruined? I am looking for a husband," she fumed, her tone sounding on the brink of hysterics. "I do not know why I am having to explain myself to you anyway. We are of the same age, and I hardly answer to you anymore than I answer to your brothers."

"We have always kept your best interest in our hearts, and you know it, Beatrix. Continue on as you have claimed, and you will find yourself with a babe in your belly if your plan is to flirt your way through court. In the end, you will not have a husband to claim but a bastard child," he replied whilst giving her a look of the importance of his words.

"Then do not leave me here!" She stomped her foot once again.

"Your attempt to threaten us to keep us from leaving you here is useless. The empress herself has asked you to attend her but there are plenty of reasons like your safety to not travel with us into the unknown. We have no idea what may lie ahead for us in Bristol and Winchester."

"Bah!" she said with a wave of her hand. "I would be far better off traveling with you and my brother, and you know it, Reynard," she said. She placed her hands on her hips. "Say the word and I will have my horse saddled to ride with you."

"I will not gainsay your brother or our empress, whom you must answer to, Beatrix. As Richard told you, behave yourself until we see you again at Oxford. Surely you can keep yourself respectfully amused until then. I am certain you will be complaining about us keeping a watchful eye over you in no time."

"You are just as mean as my brother. I hate you both. Begone with you then," she scolded before turning her back on him and walking away.

Reynard sighed before pulling on the reins of his horse and setting the beast into motion. The other knights who were to travel with him were already making their way through the barbican gate.

He kicked his steed into a trot to catch up to where Richard rode in the procession of knights. There were three others whom he had fought besides during the rout of Winchester: Blake Kennarde, Oswin Woodwarde, and Kingsley Goodee had also sworn their allegiance to the empress and Reynard was happy to have them as additional company on their travels.

The morning gave way to early afternoon as the party continued to make their way toward Bristol. As soon as they had the false king in hand, they would continue on to make the prisoner exchange in Winchester. Reynard continued to keep his eyes upon the road and watch the trees for a possible ambush, but all was far too quiet.

Oswin finally inched his steed closer to Reynard. "Did you survive her sharp tongue?" he teased as though they had only just left Beatrix behind.

Reynard smirked. "That girl will need someone with a fair amount of patience to deal with everything that is… well… Beatrix."

Blake's horse trotted forward, and he looked over his shoulder to stare upon the men with a wicked smile. "I would be happy to take up the challenge."

"Aye! Richard's sister is a beauty," Kingsley chimed in.

A low growl-like sound left Richard. "You shall all stay away from my sister," he warned, causing the men to laugh.

Reynard looked ahead, trying to keep a straight face but failed. "They are all worthy of her. Titled with lands to call their own. What more could you want for Beatrix?" he asked, curious as to Richard's answer.

"A stable life with someone who is not following an army might be a start," Richard said, casting a warning glance toward those who rode nearby.

"And what about love? Do you not wish her to find love, Richard?" Oswin inquired with a knowing smile.

Richard nodded. "That would be ideal but knowing my sister I would be happy if she could find a common accord with this unknown man and not want to scratch his eyes out. She has quite the temper when provoked."

Blake laughed. "Again… sounds like a challenge," he taunted which earned him a warning glare from Oswin. "What? Do you fancy her?"

Oswin became quiet whilst the friends all stared upon him.

" God's Blood ! He does care for the fair Lady Beatrix," Kingsley called, causing his voice to echo into the distance.

" Sod off , Goodee," Oswin huffed before kicking his heels into the side of his horse and trotting ahead.

"I guess I must beg off in pursing her, then. I certainly do not wish to get in the way of Oswin's claim," Blake replied in a tart retort.

Richard scowled. "No one is pursing anything where my sister is concerned."

"Best let the matter rest, men," Reynard finally chimed in knowing Richard was barely holding onto his temper. "I shall go scout ahead."

Richard nodded and sent Reynard off with a wave of his hand. Reynard left the men behind as he galloped ahead of their party. He slowed his mount when he smelled smoke somewhere off in the distance. 'Twas still several miles more until they reached their destination, causing Reynard to wonder what was close by.

Shielding his eyes from the sun, he briefly caught sight of a plume of dark grey smoke above the tree line. With a cluck of his tongue, he sent his horse forward again in the general direction. The usurper's men had been ransacking all in its path and Reynard could only assume some village was in need of aid.

But when he came upon what was left, he was well aware that the only aid he might be giving would be to bury their dead. 'Twould be years before the land recovered. His horse picked its way carefully over the debris whilst Reynard gazed ahead to see the keep rising above what was left of the curtain wall. A sound of weeping caused him to stop once more to gain his bearings and to determine where the cry of anguish originated from. A small fence showed the outline of a cemetery and Reynard pulled on the reins to have the horse head in that direction.

The sound of weeping grew louder as he drew near, and Reynard dropped down to the ground. He looped the reins over his horse's head and tied the steed to the fence. With a pat on its neck, he entered the small cemetery, wondering how the fence had remained intact. But he was more concerned with the woman who was so caught up in her grief that she did not hear him approach.

"May I offer you aid, my lady?" he asked gently, not wishing to scare her.

She jumped to her feet, swinging a small blade forward she had produced from her cloak. "Stay back!" she ordered looking past him to see if he was alone. She took several steps away from him.

Reynard held up his hands. "I mean you no harm."

"Ha! I have heard that before," she cried out wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her gown with her free hand. "Your kind have been here before and as you can see for yourself, there is not much left to pillage. Be gone with you!"

Reynard relaxed his stance. "As I just said, mademoiselle … I mean you no harm."

She eyed him, quizzically moving the dirk back and forth as though such a small blade could actually stop him if he wished to capture her. "To whom do you swear your allegiance?"

"The Empress Matilda," he stated as a matter of fact. "Did Stephen's men lay waste to your land?"

"Aye," she said still holding him at bay. "There may not be much left of Blackmore but 'tis still my home."

His gaze travelled to the keep rising in the distance. He frowned, wondering who this woman was. "You must know 'tis not safe to be left alone. These are trying times, my lady."

"Did I say I was alone?" she asked pointing the knife at him.

"I do not see anyone close by who is watching over you whilst you grieve. That alone tells me much." He took a hesitant step forward. "Mayhap we should introduce ourselves."

A sound escaped her… half laugh… half unladylike snort. "Introduce ourselves? Whatever for? I have no need for your name or anything else you might think to offer."

"I cannot in good conscience leave you alone to fend for yourself, my lady." He took another step forward whilst she backed away again.

"I am more than capable of taking care of myself," she fumed.

Reynard looked down upon the grave she had been weeping over and thought of another approach to gain her trust. "I am sorry for the loss of your loved one," he said. "I, too, have known much suffering at the loss of a parent."

Her eyes widened momentarily, and the blade lowered a fraction. "'Twas my grandfather. Who did you lose because of this blasted war for the throne?"

"My father… when my home Brockenhurst was overtaken by Stephen's men six years ago," he replied.

"I am sorry for your loss," she murmured quietly.

Reynard nodded his head. "No child should watch one of their parents die in such a ghastly manner. I pray your grandfather did not suffer."

"Nay… 'twas just his time so at least he did not die defending our home." She watched him with sorrowful blue eyes, and she seemed just as cautious as when he first came upon her.

He gave her a slight bow. "Sir Reynard Norwood of Brockenhurst. And you are?"

She took several breaths and finally lowered the blade. "Lady Elysande Thorburn of Blackmore."

"'Tis a pleasure to meet you, my lady, even though the circumstances are unusual," he said coming to stand next to her.

"Do you travel alone?" she asked whilst once more looking past him.

"Nay. I but scouted ahead. The empress's men are currently headed to Bristol, and I am but a small part of that contingent. We are about her business," he said watching her carefully. He was unsure what to do with a lone woman. He felt honor-bound to offer her what aid he was capable of giving. 'Twas clear there was not much left to the land to sustain her for the coming winter. How was she to defend herself if she no longer had a garrison of knights? A need to see that she was safe filled him, though he was unsure why he was so concerned with a total stranger. Perchance the cause was because he knew of the suffering she was experiencing, given his own losses.

"I see…" Her words lingered in the air between them.

A gust of wind suddenly blew the hood of her cloak from her head and hair as black as the night swirled around her. The tresses took on a life of their own until she once again grabbed at the hood and pulled it over her head. Black hair… blue eyes… 'twas as though a vision of Lady Johanna came before him reminding him what he had lost and vowed never to find again.

'Twas, of course, a foolish promise to himself he had made in his youth, but he had remained guarded ever since. And yet, if the memories of Johanna's beauty could remain with his for this many years, 'twas nothing compared to the image of the woman who was standing before him. But now was not the time to dally with a woman, let alone one who was grieving the loss of her loved one.

He cleared his throat when the silence stretched between them. "What can I do to help you, Lady Elysande?" he asked, wondering what she truly had in the way of supplies to see to her immediate needs.

Her eyes widened before she shrugged. "There is not much for anyone to do, Sir Reynard," she replied apparently still wary of him. 'Twas hardly surprising, since he was nothing more than a stranger. "But I suppose you are hungry and, at the very least, I can feed you before you continue on your way." She began walking to the opening in the fence and Reynard followed her.

But as they made their way through the broken gate and Reynard viewed what remained of her interior buildings, he knew in his heart he could not leave a woman here to fend for herself with only meager supplies to sustain her. At least if she were to travel with the empress's men, they would see that she was fed until he could find better accommodations for her. Anything would be better than her current situation—which was beyond grim. The only question was now this… How would he convince the lady to travel with a complete stranger?

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