Chapter Four

Chapter Four

W HO ARE YOU ?" this man who was too perfect-looking to be real asked.

Alyx, unused to danger in her life, did not fully react to the sword, but what she did react to was the music in this man's voice. She'd felt that Raine, with his deep voice, could sing if he tried, but she was sure this man did sing. "I am Raine's new squire," she said quietly, using her voice and all her many years of training to bring the voice from deep within her chest.

For a moment he stared at her, puzzled, speechless, and very slowly he resheathed his sword, his eyes never leaving hers. "There's something about your voice. Have you ever done any singing?"

"A bit," she said, her eyes dancing, every ounce of her confidence making itself known in that simple statement.

Without another word he reached to his back and the quiver of arrows he carried there and pulled out a flute. He started to play a simple, common song that Alyx knew well. For a moment she closed her eyes, letting the music float about her. The last few days had been the longest she'd ever gone without music since that day ten years ago when she'd picked up the troubadour's lute. As the music filled her, her lungs filled with air and she opened her mouth to sing.

After only four notes, the young man stopped playing, his mouth dropping open in disbelief, his eyes wide. Alyx grinned, kept singing and motioned for him to continue.

With one quick glance of thankfulness raised toward Heaven and a laugh of pure joy, the man again put the flute to his lips.

Alyx followed the tune for quite some time, but her need to create was too strong to let it rest. Here was someone who could play, and she wondered what else he could do. Looking about for something to give her more sound, she saw a hollow log quite near. Still singing, never losing a beat, she grabbed the back, breastplate and thigh covering of Raine's armor and set them near the log. Sticks quickly made drumsticks and for a moment she stopped singing, tapping out sounds on the pieces of armor and the log. When she had the sounds down she began to hum some of the music in her head.

Fascinated, the young man watched her, and when she began to sing, a new song this time, he followed her on his flute, slowly at first until he caught the tune and rhythm. When he added a variation of his own she laughed, still singing, and followed him easily. It became a bit of competition after that, with Alyx going one way and the man another, yet both following each other, testing one another's skill.

And when the man tossed the flute to the ground and added his strong, clear voice to hers, it was Alyx's turn to be stunned for a moment, at least enough to make her miss a beat which, from the look on his face, gave the man great joy. Grabbing her hands, both on their knees, facing each other, they blended their voices together, sending them upward toward Heaven.

At last they stopped and all around them was utter and complete silence, as if the wind and birds had stopped to listen to their magnificent music. Hands still clasped, they were still, looking at each other with a mixture of love, awe, surprise, delight and kinship.

"Jocelin Laing," the beautiful young man finally said, breaking the silence.

"Alyx... ander Blackett," she answered, stumbling over the male name.

One of Jocelin's perfect brows lifted and he started to say something, but Raine's voice stopped him.

"Joss, I see you've met my new squire."

Almost with guilt, Alyx dropped Jocelin's hands and stood, only to find her sore leg going under her.

Roughly, Raine grabbed her arm. "If the two of you are through entertaining each other, you can bring my armor back and scrape the rust off of it. Joss, did you get any game?"

With what were surely spots of color on his cheeks, Jocelin faced Raine, his slim, broad-shouldered body appearing miniature next to Raine's massive form. "I have four rabbits by the stream."

"Rabbits!" Raine grunted. "I'll go and look for a deer or two later, but now, boy, come back to camp and let's have a look at that leg. You'll be no use to me if you're crippled."

With resignation, Alyx collected the pieces of armor and Jocelin loaded them into her arms, along with her damp tunic. She followed Raine back to the camp, wondering just how much of the singing he'd heard.

If he'd heard any of it, he didn't comment as he entered the tent and pointed for Alyx to set his armor down.

"Now pull off those hose and let's look at that leg."

"My leg is healing nicely," she said, standing firmly where she was.

Narrowing his eyes at her, he took a step closer. "You might as well understand now that everyone in this camp pulls his weight. We can't afford the time to deal with sick people. Get undressed while I get Rosamund," he said, slipping on a shirt and doublet over his hose before leaving the tent.

As soon as he was gone, Alyx quickly removed the tight hose, grabbed a cloth and tied it about her waist, bringing the end up and over the Lyon belt secreted beneath her clothes so that she formed a loincloth. A great deal of her thigh and hip were exposed, and as she looked down at them, thinking that they weren't bad-looking at all, she knew that now she'd be exposed as a female. Oh, well, she sighed, it was nice to think that some part of her, if not her face, was so pretty it could only belong to a woman.

A sound at the tent opening made her look up and there, in profile, was surely one of the most beautiful women ever made on earth. Lashes so long they looked unreal, curled over pretty green eyes, a perfect nose and mouth that curved back, its lips finely shaped, chiseled, a classic beauty, how every woman dreams of looking. And behind her was Raine. No wonder he never noticed his squire! she thought. With women like this one around, why would he look at something plain and ordinary like her?

"This is Rosamund, a healer," Raine said, and his voice held a sweet softness that made Alyx look at him in wonder. It would be nice to hear him use that voice when he spoke to her.

The next moment Rosamund turned and an involuntary gasp escaped Alyx, for the entire left side of Rosamund's face was covered with a deep pink strawberry mark—the sign of the devil. Instantly, her hand raised to cross herself in hopes of warding off the evil power, but her eyes were drawn to Raine's and those blue orbs were fastened on hers in warning and threat.

"If you'd rather I didn't touch you..." Rosamund began in a voice that showed she was perfectly used to being repulsed.

"No, of course not," Alyx said hesitantly, then gained strength. "There's nothing wrong with my leg, only what this great horse of a man thinks is wrong."

With surprised eyes, Rosamund looked up at Raine, but he only snorted. "The boy has no manners—yet," he added, his words carrying a threat. He seemed satisfied that Alyx was going to treat Rosamund with respect and turned away from them, never once glancing at Alyx's legs, she noticed with chagrin.

Gently, Rosamund took Alyx's leg, lifted it, turned it this way and that, seeing no external signs of injury.

"My name is Raine Montgomery," he said, his back to them. "I prefer my name to being referred to as... whatever animal you choose."

"And should I preface it with ‘your majesty' or will ‘your lordship' do?" She knew she was greatly daring and had no idea what his wrath would be like, but she was still angry over the way he'd forced her to stay in his camp.

"Raine will do fine," he said, looking back at her, smiling. "I find the rules of society are fairly useless in this place, and what may I call you?"

Alyx started to speak, but Rosamund pulled her leg in such a way that Alyx gave an involuntary squeal of pain and lifted straight off her seat. Trying to control the tears in her eyes, she clenched her teeth and said, "Alyxander Blackett."

"What's wrong with the lad?" Raine asked.

"He's pulled some of the muscles and there is nothing to be done except bind it and let it heal by itself. I can offer no medicine, perhaps a poultice tonight but nothing else."

Raine ignored Alyx's I-told-you-so look as he held the tent flap open for Rosamund and watched her leave.

In seconds, Alyx dressed again while Raine's back was turned, and she tried for a normal tone of voice. "She's a beautiful woman," she said, trying not to betray how interested she was in Raine's answer.

"She doesn't think she is," he said, "and it's been my experience with women that they must believe themselves to be beautiful before they are."

"And no doubt you are very experienced with women."

One of his dark eyebrows lifted as he smiled at her.

"Get up off that scrawny rear of yours and let's get to work."

Trying not to be hurt by his too personal comments on her body, Alyx followed him outside, his big legs eating up ground at a furious pace as she hurried along behind him. Without pausing, he grabbed a large loaf of black bread from a makeshift brick oven, tore it in half and gave a piece to Alyx, who looked at the loaf with some consternation, as the bread was more than she normally ate in a day.

Raine, eating his way through the heavy, solid bread, led her through the village of outlaws. All the shelters were shoddy things, not even hinting at permanence, and the smells emanating from them were horrible. Obviously, there were no sanitary ordinances here as there were in her pretty, walled town.

"Not much, is it?" Raine asked, watching her face. "What can you teach people who empty their chamber pots on their own front doorsteps?"

"Who are these people?" she asked, looking in disgust at the filthy, tired-looking women ambling about doing various housewifely chores while men sat and spit, now and then looking up at Raine and Alyx with insolent glares. Without realizing she was doing it, she stepped closer to Raine.

"There," he said, pointing, "that one killed four women." His voice held a great deal of disgust. "Stay away from him. He likes to terrorize anything smaller than he is. And that man with the patch over his eye is the Black Runner, the highwayman. He became so famous he had to retire at the peak of his career," he added sarcastically.

"And them? The men huddled by the fire?"

Raine frowned slightly. "They are suffering from melancholia. They are farmers, displaced by the enclosure acts. They know nothing except farming and, as far as I can tell, want to learn nothing new."

"Enclosures!" she gasped. "No wonder they hate you."

"Me?" he asked, truly astonished. "Why should they hate me?"

"You have taken their farms, put fences around what was their land and put your nasty sheep in the pens," she said smugly, letting him know that not everyone of the non-nobles was as uneducated as these louts.

"I have, have I?" he said, not smiling but a dimple giving away his amusement. "Do you always judge an entire group of people on the actions of one? Is there no villain in your little town? If this villain picked my pocket should I hang everyone in town for justice's sake?"

"No... no, I guess not," she reluctantly admitted.

"Here, eat this," he said, handing her a hard-boiled egg and taking away what was left of her loaf and eating it himself. "You'll never grow any bigger if you don't eat. Now we'll try to do something about your lack of muscle."

With that comment, he led her through the trees toward the sounds she'd been hearing since she'd arrived. When they reached a large, cleared area, she halted, eyes wide, staring at the scene before her. Men, many men, seemed to be trying to kill either each other, their horses or themselves. Men lunged at one another with swords, at stuffed dummies with lances or performed bodily contortions wearing stones strapped to their bodies.

"What is this?" she whispered, not knowing how to react.

"If the men are to survive, they must know how to fight," he said, his eyes on the men. "Here, you two," he bellowed so loudly Alyx jumped. With two furious strides, he reached two men who'd dropped their swords and gone after each other with their fists. Raine grabbed the back of the rags they wore, shook them like dogs and tossed them apart. "Men of honor do not fight with their fists," he growled. "As long as you are under my rule you will fight as if you were decent men and not the scum you are. If you break my training again, you will be punished. Now get back to work!"

Silent, somewhat awed by Raine's fierceness, Alyx stood stone-still until he turned back to her. The man's voice ranged from the sweetness he used with Rosamund to this terrifying bellow.

"Now," he said, in the cool voice he used for her, "let's see how strong you are. Lie down and push your body up using only your arms."

Alyx had absolutely no idea what he meant, and at her blank look he sighed as if greatly burdened, pulled off his shirt and doublet, dropped to the ground on his stomach and proceeded to lift his body repeatedly with his arms. It certainly didn't look difficult, so Alyx assumed the same position. On her first try only the front half of her body came up and on the second try, her arms raised her half way and then collapsed.

"Too much sitting!" Raine declared and grabbed the seat of her hose, pulling that heavier part of her up. "Now push! Do something with those puny arms!"

With that, Alyx rolled away from him and sat up. "It's not as easy as it looks," she said, rubbing her shaking arms.

"Easy!" he snorted, dropping to his stomach again. "Climb on my back."

It took Alyx a few moments to believe what she heard. Climb atop that great, bare, sweaty expanse of sun-bronzed skin?

Impatiently, he pointed and Alyx straddled him. Using only one hand, he began to push up and down, her astride him, but the last thing Alyx was interested in was his show of strength. Never had she been this near a man before, and certainly she had never had one between her legs before. His sweat began to dampen the insides of her thighs, or perhaps it was her own sweat, but she certainly was becoming damp from someone. His muscles, popping out, straining as he lifted his own considerable body weight as well as hers with the one arm, rippled along the inside of her legs, sending waves of warmth through her body. Her hands, touching his hot skin, seemed very alive, very sensitive. His muscles and skin were making music, playing her body until it was singing a song she'd never heard before.

"Now!" Raine said, rolling to one side and dumping her in the dirt. "Someday when you're a man you'll be able to do that."

Sitting down, looking up at him and all that lovely skin of his, her body still humming, she thought that the very last thing she wanted was to be a man.

Behind Raine stepped Jocelin, his beautiful eyes alight, watching her, and it was almost as if he knew what she was thinking. Embarrassed, she looked away.

"I think you've shocked your squire into silence," Jocelin said to Raine. "You forget that people of our class aren't used to your physical vigor."

"You're too busy sitting around counting your money," Raine said in dead earnest. "And what's made you so happy today? Not enough work for you to do?"

Joss ignored the jibe. "Just curious, 'tis all. I was on my way to practice with my bow." With that, he left to go to the targets at the far end of the long field.

"Are you going to take root?" Raine asked, looking down at Alyx. When she stood, he took a long sword from a passing man and handed it to her. "Take the hilt in both hands and come for me."

"I don't want to hurt anyone," she said instantly. "I didn't even want to hurt Pagnell when—"

"What if I were Pagnell?" he said archly. "Come for me or I will go for you."

The pain, so recent, so deep, made her raise the heavy sword from where its tip dangled in the dust and she thrust at him. When the blade was a hairs-breadth from his belly, he sidestepped, evading her. Again she lunged and again, again, and still she couldn't touch him. She started for one side, changed in midthrust and made for his other side, but no matter what she did she could not hit him.

Panting from her exertions, she stopped, resting the sword tip in the dirt, her arms aching, quivering from the exertion, while Raine, smiling and confident, grinned at her until she longed to ram him with the steel she held.

"Now I will give you another chance. I will stand perfectly still while you swing at me."

"There's a trick," she said with such fatalism that he laughed aloud.

"No trick, but you must lift the sword above your head and come straight down. If you can do that you will strike me."

"I could not hurt someone. To draw blood—"

His face showed his belief in her swordsmanship. "Think of all my sheep, all the farmers I have caused to starve because of my greedy ways. Think of—"

Alyx happily lifted the sword straight up, planning to bring it down on his head, but at the moment she reached up the blasted, uncooperative sword started pulling her arms backward. Already tired and weakened, her arms could not hold it and for a few seconds it was a struggle—and the damned piece of steel won. The smirk on Raine's face as she stood there holding the long sword, its tip planted between her heels, made her furious.

"You're as weak a boy as I ever saw. What have you done with your life?"

She absolutely refused to answer that question as she twisted the sword around to the front of her.

"Lift it to the top of your head, lower it and do it again and again until I return. If I see you slacking, I'll double your practice time," he said as he left her.

Up and down, over and over she lifted the sword, her arms screaming with the exercise.

"You'll learn," said a voice behind her and she turned to see the scarred soldier, the brother of the man who'd brought her here.

"Has your brother left? I wanted to thank him, although right now I'm not sure this is any better than what could have happened to me."

"He needed no thanks," the man said gruffly, "and you'd better not stop because Lord Raine is looking this way."

With trembling arms, Alyx resumed her exercise, and it was several moments before Raine returned to show her how to hold the sword at arm's length, one arm at a time, lifting and lowering it repeatedly.

After what seemed like an eternity, he took the sword from her and started walking back toward the camp. Her arms and shoulders feeling as if they'd been put to the rack, Alyx followed him silently.

"Food, Blanche," he said over his shoulder on the way to his tent.

Gratefully, Alyx sat down on a stool while Raine took another and began to sharpen the point of a long lance. With her head leaning against a tent pole, she was almost asleep when Blanche came in bearing crockery bowls full of stew and curds and whey mixed with soft cooked lentils and more of the heavy black bread, with hot spiced wine in mugs.

As Alyx lifted her wooden spoon, her arms started to jerk spasmodically, protesting what she'd just done to them.

"You're too soft," Raine grunted, his mouth full. "It'll take months to harden you up."

Silently, Alyx knew she'd die if she had to take even a week of today's torture. She ate as best she could, too weary to pay much attention to the food, and she was falling asleep when Raine grabbed her upper arm and pulled her up.

"The day's young yet," he said, obviously laughing at her exhaustion. "The camp needs food and we must get it."

"Food?" she groaned. "Let them starve and let me sleep."

"Starve!" he snorted. "They'd kill each other for what food there is and only the strongest would survive. And you," he said, his fingers meeting as they encircled her upper arm, "you wouldn't last an hour. So we go to hunt to keep you alive as well as them."

With one jerk, she moved away from his touch. Stupid man, she thought, couldn't he see that she was female? Without another word, he was out of the tent and she ran after him, following him to the edge of camp where the horses were kept. All along the way she saw the people of the camp, resting, digesting their food, no one continuing to work except Raine.

"Could it be possible that you could ride?" he asked, his voice showing he had no hope.

"No," she whispered.

"What have you done with your life?" he demanded again. "I have never known a boy who couldn't ride."

"And I have never known a man who knew so little about the people outside his own world. Have you spent your life on a jeweled throne doing nothing but fighting with swords and riding great horses?"

Flinging a heavy wood-based saddle on his horse, he said, "You have a sharp tongue on you, and if it were not for us training to fight, who would protect you when there is war?"

"The King, of course," she answered smugly.

"Henry!" Raine gasped, one foot in the stirrup. "And who do you think protects Henry? Who does he call when he is attacked if not his nobles? Give me your arm," he said and easily pulled her up to sit on the hard rump of the horse behind his saddle. Before she could say a word, they were off at a teeth-jarring pace.