Guardian of Darkness by Kathryn Le Veque Read Free Book Online

a rear view only confirmed that he did indeed have the widest shoulders she had ever seen.  He also cut a very pleasing shape with a narrow waist, tight buttocks and thick legs. But just as those warm thoughts rolled across her mind, she angrily chased them away. She hated the man. She refused to think him attractive to look at.
    Bress’ eyes were half-lidded as she stroked the blond face. He had an even white blaze down his face that was distinctive and lovely.  As she petted the horse, a thought suddenly occurred to her and she found herself seeking out Creed’s location; he was a good distance from her, speaking with a soldier. A quick glance back at Bress showed the horse with a halter and lead rope only; no saddle or bridle to make for easier riding. But no matter; she had ridden him with just a halter many a time. She was comfortable with it.  And Creed was too far away to give immediate chase.
    Carefully, and with one eye still on Creed, she looped the lead rope over Bress’ neck and secured it to the other side of the halter to create make-shift reins. Bress was the fastest horse she had ever seen. She knew the fat destriers would be unable to keep pace with him.  Aye, she had decided not to run, once. But she had changed her mind, now that she saw what the Sassenachs truly had in mind for her: complete submission and utter humiliation. She would not be a hostage; she would be a prisoner. And the big beast Creed de Reyne would take great pleasure in her surrender.
    The last Creed saw of Carington, she and her golden horse made a graceful jump over a rope barricade and were disappearing into the awakening dawn.
     
    ***
     
     She could not go home.  Carington knew that; she knew that her father would only turn her back over to the Sassenachs and they would probably beat her for her insolence, so she knew right away that she could not return to Wether Fair. That meant she had to flee far enough to be able to start a new life for herself, far from peace treaties and English knights and Scots barons.  It was a foolish and desperate thought, but she was foolish and desperate at the moment. She did not want to be a token for peace. She did not want to be a prisoner. She wanted; nay, needed to be free.
    Bress was swift; he covered several miles within the first hour.  The morning fog had lifted slightly, but it was still cold and wet.  In little time she had made it to a larger town far to the south, although she was not exactly sure why she was heading south. More than likely because Creed and his brotherhood of devils would expect her to head for home, so they would turn northward to search for her.  She would fool them and go south. 
    A few hours into her flight, Bress was showing signs of exhaustion.  She slowed the horse and directed him off the road, into a cluster of trees to shield them from the highway.   The animal was sweating and foaming, so she began to walk him through the thick bramble to cool him off.   He tried to munch on the clusters of wet grass but she pulled him up, wanting to cool him before he ate.
    The fog had almost completely cleared as they emerged from the bramble into a lovely green meadow with rocky crags in the distance.  Some of the peaks had a white cap of snow.  She had a fairly good sense of direction and knew she was heading to the southeast, but she had no idea if there were any towns nearby or what she would do when night fell.  
    She would have to feed and shelter herself, which she was confident she could do. Being the only child of a warlord, her father had taught her a few things he had hoped to teach a son. He had taken her hunting on occasion and she knew how to catch small game.  She also knew how to identify edible plants for the lean times when meat was unavailable. Thanks to the cook at Wether Fair, she also knew how to prepare items like bread and ale. She was quite good at making ale and, thanks to her father, she was quite good at drinking it, too.