“I can’t leave him!” she tried to say, but her raw throat and the lump there made it come out as a croak.
One strong pull from Joss and they were running together. After a very long time she saw horses coming toward them.
“He’s late,” Joss yelled, panting from the run. “Come on, Alyx!”
At least the running kept her mind from the danger Raine was in. Carrying the extra weight of her unborn child made her awkward, and she needed every bit of her wind.
When they reached the horses, Jocelin mounted and pulled her up behind him and, to her chagrin, they headed away from where Raine and the others fought. Alyx tried to protest, but again her voice failed her. Her silence was so uncharacteristic that Joss turned to look at her, and his snort of laughter showed he understood her predicament.
They rode hard for two hours and when they stopped at last, it was at a monastery. Alyx, exhausted from her fear during the last several days, could hardly stand when Joss helped her down.
“Is your voice really gone?” Joss asked, half amused, half in sympathy.
She again tried to speak, but only a rasp that hurt her throat came out.
“Maybe it’s better this way. Raine is angry enough to tear the tongues out of both of us. Are you all right, though? They didn’t harm you while you were a captive?”
Alyx shook her head.
Before Joss could speak again, a tonsured, brownrobed monk opened the heavy wooden door.
“Won’t you come in, my children? We are ready for you.”
Alyx touched Jocelin’s arm and frowned in question. What did the monk mean by “ready”?
“Come inside. You’ll find out,” Joss said, smiling.
Inside the wall was a large, lovely courtyard, green and shady in the early morning August sunlight. There were doors off three sides of the courtyard, a thick stone wall behind them.
“We have a few rooms for women visitors,” the monk said, glancing down at Alyx’s soot-covered coarse white gown. “Lord Raine has made arrangements for your comfort.”
Moments later Alyx was in a spacious room off the courtyard and given a mug of thick buttermilk to drink. She was only halfway through it when the sound of clanging steel came through the door.
“Alyxandria!” came a bellow that could only be Raine’s.
Out of habit, Alyx opened her mouth to answer him in kind, but only a painful yelp came out. With her hand at her throat, she opened the door.
Raine whirled to look at her and for a moment their eyes locked. There were shadows under his eyes and his hair was sweat-plastered to his head in black curls. Dents in his armor were numerous. But what was frightening was the fury in his eyes.
“Come out here,” he growled, and his tone left no room for disobedience.
When she stood before him he clutched her shoulders, stared for a moment at her stomach, then looked back into her eyes. “I should beat you soundly for this,” he said.
Alyx tried to speak, but the rawness of her throat made tears in her eyes.
He looked puzzled for a moment, then one dimple flashed in his cheek. “The smoke take your voice away?”
She nodded.
“Good! That’s the best news I’ve heard in months. When we get through with this I have a few things to say to you and for once you’re going to listen.” With that he grabbed her shoulder and pushed her toward a small gate in the wall. Outside was a tall, deeply recessed door that obviously belonged to a chapel. Not waiting for her to enter on her own, Raine opened the door and pushed her inside. Before the altar stood Jocelin and a tall, slim man whom Alyx had never seen before.
“In your armor?” the stranger asked, looking at Alyx curiously.
“If I took time to change no doubt she’d slip through my fingers again. You have the ring, Gavin?”
Alyx’s eyes opened wide at the name. So this was Raine’s older brother, the man she’d written to and begged to help control Raine’s anger at Roger Chatworth. As she looked up at Gavin, thinking he wasn’t at all like Raine physically and Raine was so much more handsome, she was barely aware of a priest before them, talking.
“Pay attention, Alyx,” Raine commanded, and Gavin coughed to cover a laugh.