Exile’s Bane by Nicole Margot Spencer Read Free Book Online Page B

go.”
    Kalimir shouldered me, ready to run.
    “Where will ye stay? How will ye eat? Though I know ye do not want to, thee would be better off staying here and accepting thy fate. I could join ye on the isle later. ‘Twould be safer.”
    “If I stay, all is lost,” I said, tightening my hold on Kalimir’s bridle. I glared at her in defiance. “The good captain has given me this chance to reclaim what is mine, and I intend to take it. And since when did you prefer the safe route?” I asked her, nettling her, for if there was anyone who would take a chance on a whim, it was Peg.
    She shrugged. We turned away from one another, both of us mounting quickly, for there was a great shouting out in the stable yard. Kalimir circled and I took advantage of the moment, one hand on the reins, to tuck my skirt under my legs. I then pulled him up short beside Peg, now astride her mare.
    “Come with me, then. I’ll see what I can find for you in Bolton.”
    “Bolton, is it?” she said, blatant suspicion claiming her face. “And Thomas?” She reached over and grabbed my rein hand, turning her mare back into Kalimir, who snorted and danced in offence. “Do not do this alone. My place is with thee. Has been, since the day thy father brought me out of Ireland.”
    I nodded my head solemnly. “Let us go.”
    No one to stop us, we charged out of the stable. We forced our way through a mob of unruly horses and frantic stable boys, then out the postern gate. At breakneck speed, we cut south across the huge, foggy, open bowl that Tor House sat in, not slowing until we passed the old cottar’s hut within the great stand of trees where the rutted track that was the Sheffington Road began. It was the longer route to Bolton, but I believed it would serve us well as it wandered among low hills where we would have cover within the small trees and dense brush.
    An hour later, we let the horses rest until they stopped blowing, a cold mist settling around us. We moved on at a fast canter along the undulating roadway. The pale sun struggled to burn through the mist, a mere streak of brightness visible now, then gone as we descended into a low-lying, marshy area. Fitful rain showers came and went, wetting our hair and clothing. I shivered. It seemed to be getting colder. Rising fog swirled about the horses’ feet. We reined them in. Soon a blurry mist encompassed us, but we worked our way along, stayed in sight of one another, and struggled to make out the open track before us.
    “I cannot see,” Peg said close beside me, peering into what appeared as a thick, gray blanket hung before us. “We’re going to get lost out here.”
    “Maybe we should stop and take cover,” I suggested.
    After a further lengthy time of struggle to see the open track before us, Peg stopped her mare in front of me. I asked after her. She shushed me, listening intently. The sound of hooves came to me then, coming up the low incline behind us.
    I moved quickly off the track into wet, treacherous ground, some ways into the fog. Peg followed. We dismounted and led the horses into a tall stand of trees and underbrush that loomed down at us. We stood there within the prickly branches, unable to do anything to help ourselves other than to hold the horses’ mouths, to try and keep them from giving us away.
    The creak and jingle of harness and the marching of many feet came from my left, deep in the thick mist. Men’s voices sounded. The fog thinned around us, and a troop appeared not fifty feet away. Stunned, my breath caught in my throat, for this was no house guard troop, but a small troop of Roundhead infantry led by a mounted officer in a severely cut black coat, a big black hat over cropped hair, and an old-fashioned lace collar that covered his shoulders. His sword and long pistol were the only things that denoted his rank.
    “Damnation,” Peg cursed softly beside me.
    I looked over at my sword hilt sticking up on the opposite side of Kalimir’s saddle, for