Guardian of Darkness by Kathryn Le Veque Read Free Book Online Page B

she entered the small berg. There was a large tavern near the outskirts and she could hear the laughing and shouting coming forth from the mortar and wood structure. She paused in the shadows, watching the activity, wishing she had money to pay for such a place. She was coming to long for warmth and descent food.
    For the first time since fleeing, she was beginning to feel some doubt.  She was no longer sure her decision had been the wisest, but she supposed it was better than being a slave.  Turning away from the laughter and smells of cooking meat, she reined Bress back in the direction she had come.  She had seen a couple of outbuildings near the edge of the town that would do quite nicely if no one was using them. They had looked old and unstable, but it did not matter; shelter was shelter and she was in no position to be choosey.
    Suddenly, laughter and shouting burst from the inn as several knights spilled into the avenue. They were very drunk and very happy.  With minor curiosity, Carington turned to glance at them as Bress plodded back down the avenue. She did not think anything of them until one of the men looked in her direction and shouted.
    “Hey!” he bellowed. “You, wench! Where are you going? Come back here!”
    Panic flared in her chest.  It was the attention she had feared and she cursed herself for being stupid enough to have walked right into it. Digging her booted heels into Bress’ golden sides, she roared off into the dusk.  Behind her, the knights attempted to drunkenly mount their chargers. But even intoxicated, they were experienced riders and took off after her.  Carington could hear the thunder of hooves behind her.
    The chase was on.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER THREE
     
     
    Creed knew they would never outrun her.
    The best they could hope for was tracking her horse and the animal had left distinct hoof prints in the dirt where the horses had been tethered for the night.  Burle was a master tracker and had kept them on a steady path most of the morning.  Surprisingly, she had continued south. He had been positive that she would have turned for home. But instead, she continued deep into English territory. It did not make much sense. But, then again, nothing about the woman did.
    The entire Prudhoe escort was mounted and following within minutes of the lady’s escape. Ryton did not scold him, although Creed could tell by his brother’s expression that he was displeased. He had, in fact, put Creed in charge of her to avoid this. But she had escaped him. Stanton, in spite of being smacked in the skull by the lady, had fared better.  The more Ryton stewed about it as they rode south, the more irritated he became.
    “You had time to talk to her,” he said to his brother. “Where do you think she will go?”
    Creed shrugged his shoulders. “We spoke of trifling things. One thing I do not profess to do is read women’s minds.”
    “You should have kept a better eye on her.”
    Creed did not respond; he would not explain himself to his brother when Ryton already knew that Creed’s knightly skills were beyond question.  What happened was unexpected, yet in hindsight, Creed supposed he should not have left the lady standing alone with her horse. Truth was, he had not given it much thought until he caught a glimpse of the big golden horse leaping over a barrier with its dark haired mistress.  Then he’d just felt frustration. Frustration, with help from his brother’s remark, that was now growing into anger. 
    Stanton cantered beside Creed on his big brown charger. The young knight had seemed particularly concerned with the matter of the escapee; in fact, he’d seemed concerned for the lady the moment they had collected her from Wether Fair.  Were the man not married with a young child, one might have taken his concern for romantic interest.  But Ryton knew, as did Creed, that it was just infatuation. She was a pretty girl and he was naturally fascinated.  Stanton