Belaset's Daughter - By Feona J Hamilton Page 0,37

still no clues, only the sense of emptiness, the beach on which they stood, and the rough scrub behind. She could see no huts or other buildings.

The small group staggered up to the grass. It was a steeper slope than was apparent from the beach and they climbed up it and over the other side. In the dip below they stopped, obedient to the warning, outflung arm of the tall man. He was the leader of the party, Judith realised, and the other two men took their orders from him naturally. He turned and beckoned to Pierre.

"Get yourself back on board, before you’re missed," he said. "Your friends will tie you up again most convincingly, I’m sure!"

Pierre nodded sourly.

"Friends is what they call themselves," he said. "The bastards tied me up so tight it makes me wonder! I’d rather come with you to London."

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"Don’t be stupid, addlepate!" snapped the tall man. "Every moment you’re away makes the risk of an alarm being raised more likely. It was lucky the ship had to drop anchor here, until the tide turned. Get back on board!"

The other man with them laughed.

"Never mind, Pierre," he said. "You only have to stay in your bonds until you return to France. Why should Master Bonami keep you after that? After all, you’re just a fisherman who heard too much for his own good."

Pierre grunted and turned away. They watched him go back up the slope and disappear over the top. Behind them, there was a soft halloo. The tall man turned sharply, his body tensed, ready to spring forward. A man stood a little way from them, well muffled in his cloak, but with his face visible. The tall man strode towards him, his hand held out in greeting. The newcomer shook it warmly and slapped the other on the shoulder.

"Welcome back, Guy!" he said, cheerfully.

So, Judith thought, the name is Guy, is it? Guy who? She saw the other man was watching her carefully, as if he expected her to react to the name. Guy had glanced at her over his shoulder, too, and now said something in a low tone to the newcomer.

She was hustled forward to join Guy and the stranger.

"There are horses for all of us," he said, still sounding cheerful, and more as if they were embarking on an afternoon’s hunting than about to make a hazardous journey to London.

He led the way up a rough track and rounded a large clump of bushes.

Four horses stood waiting. As they approached, one of the horses whickered softly. It was a beautiful animal with a white blaze on its face and four white socks. Otherwise, it was as dark as the night gathering round them, and almost invisible. The other three horses, smaller animals, but sturdy and fit for the journey, were all overshadowed by the black horse.

Guy had gone to this one and was rubbing its nose and talking to it. It was his, that was clear. Suddenly, Judith knew who he was, and the knowledge astonished her. He must be Guy de Montfort, Simon’s son! What was he doing skulking, travelling across the Channel on the same boat as her, but supposedly a prisoner? He had been left drugged by the false priest in the church in Amiens how was he here?

She was so lost in thought, that she did not hear him tell her to mount one of the horses.

He shook her and pushed her towards one of them. She swung herself up wearily into the high saddle and the others, mounted too, surrounded her. The man who had brought the horses led the way, with Guy’s ’shadow’ behind him. Judith came next, with Guy de Montfort directly behind her. She could almost feel his eyes boring into her back, and knew there would be no chance of escape with him watching her every move. Besides, the black horse would catch up with her in the first few strides, if she tried to gallop away from the rest.

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As they moved off, she concentrated instead on trying to discover where they were.

The daylight was gone, but there was a full moon sailing through a clear, starlit sky.

Traces of snow still showed on either side of the chalk track they were travelling along, although it was less evident than it had been in France. In the frosty air, the horses’ breath sent out clouds of vapour and joined those coming from their riders.

They passed a few scattered hovels

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