pointed. Riders were splashing across the shallow ford of the river beyond the flocks and advancing purposefully towards them. Elene quickly gestured her groom to boost her back into the saddle, for she knew it was not one of her own Woolcot patrols.
Heulwen stared hard for a moment, then slackened her grip on the reins as she recognised the red chevrons adorning the leading rider’s shield. ‘Rest easy,’ she said. ‘It’s Henry.’
Elene’s shoulders relaxed. Kicking Bramble’s flanks, she cantered through the herds to meet the approaching men.
Henry, one of Renard’s brothers and four years the younger, slowed his destrier and brought him round. The shield by which Heulwen had recognised him was dintedand Elene saw that his horse was cut about the chest and fore quarters.
‘My lady!’ he saluted her in a light voice, quite at odds with his stolid, powerful appearance. ‘May we beg a night’s hospitality at Woolcot?’
‘You do not need to ask, you know you are welcome whenever you choose to visit!’ Elene responded. ‘But what in the name of all the saints have you been doing to yourself?’
He followed the direction of her worried gaze and screwed up his face. ‘We skirmished with a band of Earl Ranulf ’s mercenaries. They were helping themselves to some cattle from the Caermoel herds.’
‘What!’
‘Oh, it’s nothing new.’ He removed his helm and used the cuff of his gambeson to wipe sweat from his eyes. They were a round, tawny-grey, quite unlike Renard’s. His hair was straight and ginger-brown, as was his sparse moustache. ‘It saves de Gernons feeding them if they can steal their food from someone against whom he has a grudge.’ He nodded a greeting to his half-sister as she rode up to join them, and gave her a preoccupied smile.
She had heard the tail end of the conversation and asked, ‘Did Chester’s men escape then?’
He shrugged. ‘The bastards doubled back on us. I’m no good on a trail. They had to leave the cows, though. I thought I’d ride down this way and make sure your flocks weren’t being molested.’
Elene shook her head. ‘All’s been peaceful here.’
Henry rested one square, strong hand on his thigh, guiding his stallion with the other. ‘Renard has always been much better at this sort of thing than I am,’ he said glancingwistfully at Elene. ‘If he and I were dogs, I’d be short and pot-bellied, tripping over my ears while I followed a stale scent, and Renard would be hot and graceful on the trail like a lean gazehound.’
‘Henry, you shouldn’t—’
‘It’s true!’ he said.
‘At least you come when whistled for,’ Heulwen patted her brother’s shoulder. ‘No, that’s not really fair,’ she temporised. ‘Renard was going to return home two years ago and Papa stopped him because he didn’t want him used as a lever on his loyalty.’
‘But now there is no choice,’ Elene said as they turned towards the comforting solidity of Woolcot’s walls, her young face tight with resolution.
Feeling Henry watching her, she looked round at him, but he immediately dropped his gaze and made himself busy with his stirrup leather. ‘No,’ he said. ‘There isn’t.’
The Principality of Antioch
‘I said I am with child,’ Olwen repeated. ‘And it is yours.’
Renard carefully stoppered the bottle of oil and put down his sword and the rag with which he had been cleaning the blade. ‘You can’t be.’
Olwen set her hands on her hips and tossed her hair. ‘My flux is more than two weeks late. It is never late. I feel fat and sick.’ She spoke with calm finality. ‘I know.’
Renard swore and rising to his feet paced to the end of the room and stared at the crucifix nailed there. ‘You can’t be,’ he said again.
Olwen glared at his turned back and contemplated thrusting a dagger between his shoulder blades. It went no further than the mind. You did not murder your promise of wealth and security. ‘I assure you that I am,’
Shauna Rice-Schober[thriller]