Reckless (Age of Conquest #5) - Tamara Leigh Page 0,53

walking Thetford’s streets.”

“Were it only drink we require. Unfortunately, if I am to safely return you to your family, I must scavenge tidings of Norman forces between here and Wulfenshire.” He raised his eyebrows. “And here my plight, Nicola D’Argent—what to do with you when I go to town.”

His tone portending ill, she tensed. “I shall accompany you.”

“Should you, together we will draw more notice with our heads covered on so warm a day. Do I leave you behind, you will be alone in defending your person should the camp be discovered, and that is providing you can be trusted to remain here. If I decide you cannot be trusted—and you give me good cause—it would be necessary to bind you. Thus, you could neither flee nor offer up a defense if the camp is set upon. That is my plight, Lady.”

Recalling when last he had seen her bound and gagged to ensure she caused no trouble during the trade for the Abbess of Lillefarne, she talked herself down from outrage she knew she would regret and said, “Though I wish to accompany you into town, should you determine it is best to leave me behind, I give you my word that if you do not bind me, I will be here when you return.” She set the wineskin aside. “That is, unless an enemy happens upon me.”

He delved her face so long she had to blink, and in the midst of that scrutiny, she noted the sound of the waterfall between their first camp and this was further muted by the noises of night creatures coming up out of their day’s slumber.

“I will decide come morn,” Vitalis said, then stood and started toward their horses.

“Vitalis?” When he looked across his shoulder, she said, “Whatever you decide, I will do as told. Just…”

“What?”

“Trust me enough not to awaken me with gag and rope.”

From his hesitation, she guessed that was a consideration, but he inclined his head. “Regardless of my decision, you will be fully awake when you learn the part you are to play.”

Great her relief, albeit short-lived. She believed he would not spring upon her in so vulnerable a state, but still she could be bound and gagged for hours. “I thank you,” she managed.

A quarter hour later, he finished with the horses, but rather than gain his rest the same as she, he returned to the fire. He was unmoving a long time, then he took the mantle piece from his purse. He examined it, likely recalling how it was taken. Then as she had seen him do before, he began drawing it through his fingers.

What did he see as he stared into the flames? Not the leaping orange and gold. Not the shooting stars birthed by glowing wood. What he saw were his losses, she was certain—and most clearly those of recent, which he would have avenged two nights past if not for the need to get her to safety. Had he determined not to keep his word to her sister-in-law, would he be dead? Or would it be seven of the enemy slain outside the stable rather than one?

Such thoughts prowled her mind for what could have been hours had the lowering of her lids to rest her eyes been momentary as intended.

Chapter Thirteen

Nicola behaved.

Vitalis kept her in sight where she sat on the ground between the leather worker’s shop and that of the iron master, the hood well over her head and dirt and dung-smudged mantle pooled around her. Lest that did not suffice to keep town folk from drawing near, she thrust forward a grubby hand in the hope of coin.

As Vitalis moved among the market stalls this side of the street, hood loosely draping his head, limp exaggerated and shoulders hunched to reduce his height, he attended to conversations between Normans and Saxons as he made his purchases and dropped them in the worn pack.

He was on the verge of concluding no tidings worthy of note had reached Thetford when he saw men-at-arms who had exited a tavern intercept other Normans approaching that place of drink and women.

As evidenced by the colors worn by these soldiers, they were from Red Castle, and there in the street, the newcomers were told by those who had greatly imbibed that Abbot Turold had begun wreaking vengeance for the sacking of his abbey.

Vitalis drew nearer, and feigning interest in apples barely of a size to be plucked, heard the triumphant revelation that though the leader of the