Reckless (Age of Conquest #5) - Tamara Leigh Page 0,50

gain supplies and word of Normans who came looking for a Saxon warrior and Norman lady, but distant enough to remain hidden providing a watch was kept.

The same as the first night following Zedekiah’s death, little was spoken between Vitalis and Nicola, and though he was well with that, he knew Nicola struggled to remain silent and several times heard her mutter as if to cast off the weight of unspoken words.

He might have made sense of them had he tried. However, not only was catching sounds of an enemy’s approach of greater import, but he remained too near Zedekiah’s death. Though he assured himself the ache would ease just as it had over his loss of Hawisa to Guarin, this loss was more deeply felt.

There was a remedy—rather, what would begin the healing ahead of wreaking vengeance—but as yet he had no opportunity to roar and curse. And so the strain in his chest swelled like dough rising in a warm, dark place.

Having awakened well before sunrise, Nicola yet sleeping with her chin tucked between the edges of her mantle and cloth-wrapped feet peeking from beneath her skirt, he was tempted to venture deeper into the wood to release this pressure without alerting anyone.

Unfortunately, he dare not leave the termagant even a short time lest rash behavior reveal her to any who hunted here in defiance of the usurper’s man who had raised a mighty fortress at Thetford and named it Red Castle—for the English blood he shed, embittered Saxons said.

Like many Normans awarded the lands of the conquered, William de Warenne claimed rights over nearby woodland, denying Saxon tenants a source of meat that did not force them to dig deep into their purses. But of greater concern than drawing the attention of fellow Saxons who would be severely punished for poaching, was alerting De Warenne’s men when they came for game.

Vitalis unstoppered his wineskin and drank sparingly of the last of the drink. Having been afflicted with the flux from drinking Norman-fouled water, he would only put his mouth to the Little Ouse were he desperately thirsty. Meaning by the morrow he must venture into town. This day, however, he would take fresh meat from the wood, either by bow, snare, dagger, or spear, any of which Zedekiah—

He ground his teeth. Knowing never again would his friend be among the first to thread meat on a spit, the pressure in his chest increased and he closed his hands into fists.

Deciding distraction was needed to contain the demon in his chest, he straightened from the tree he leaned against.

The crunch of dirt beneath his boots caused Nicola’s green eyes to spring wide, and she said low, “Are we once more prey?”

“You are safe. ’Tis but time to bring a meal to ground.”

She sat up. “I excel at small game.”

Which was all they would take from this wood, larger game being wasted on only two and providing greater evidence of trespass to the Norman who believed he owned the wood.

Nicola stood. “And I am proficient with the bow. I can—”

“What you will do is stay my side and remain silent. That is all I require of you, Lady.”

Argument flashed in her eyes, but acceptance lowered her gaze.

Vitalis was pleased, but also…

What? he silently demanded. You miss her fire? Do you forget it was that which burned Zedekiah?

He did not.

Just as you ought not forget that when you led men, some of the decisions that did not save lives, took lives, his own guilt submitted. Then there was guilt that had he tried harder—had he been conniving, even cruel—he could have overcome Zedekiah’s determination to be the vassal of one who could never be his lord.

“Vitalis?” There was concern in Nicola’s voice and the hand she reached to him.

Angered at allowing her to glimpse his churning, he pivoted and tossed over his shoulder, “See to your ablutions. In ten minutes we depart.”

A single draw to the cheek. A single sighting down the arrow. A single loosing of string. No more was needed to ensure a big man who should not be capable of great stealth brought to ground food sufficient to nourish him and Nicola. Though proud of her own bow skill, it paled beside Vitalis’s. She could have fed them this day, but not as soon.

And just as Vitalis was superior at hunting, so were his senses. One moment she hastened alongside him, suppressing sounds of discomfort as her cloth-covered feet encountered rocks and sticks, and the next she