The Warrior Poet by Kathryn Le Veque Read Free Book Online Page B

time. But she had elected to remain still, draped over the
armored saddle in a most uncomfortable position, and Christian realized that he
would find himself in possession of a wildcat the moment her head cleared
completely and she saw her way to resist his control.
    Bracing for that eventuality, he skirted the edge of the
bustling city and headed through wooded Cumbrian territory en route to the
Borders. He was on Howard land, a large and prestigious northern family
alongside the Northumberland Percys and the Border Grays. The Percys had long
been considered Kings of the North and the St. Johns had always been loyal
supporters whilst their mortal enemy, the de Gares, had always managed to align
themselves with the more prominent families of Southern England.
    The outskirts of the Holy North Woods could be seen in
the distance and Christian slowed his charger to a jaunty trot, purposely
bouncing his captive to see if she would be prone to displaying any signs of
life. He was well aware of her conscious state, for her breathing had increased
within the past half-hour, and he was determined to release her from her state
of silence so he could berate her for her defiance at the abbey.
    The harder the horse bounced, the more frustrated he
became with her lack of response. With thinly-veiled patience, he waited. But
his tolerance would not last indefinitely; brushing against his abdomen were her
hips, her wool-covered buttocks gracefully saluting the sky as she folded
neatly over his saddle.
    He eyed her buttocks, thinking that if she would not
respond to the horse's jostling trot, she would most definitely respond to the
stinging palm of his hand. In fact, he was sure of it. And the action was not
far in coming.
    He bided his time.
     
    ***

 
    In spite of the fact that the destrier's gait was intent
on cracking several ribs, Gaithlin was not about to reveal her lucidity. The
very last she remembered, she had been in engaged in mortal combat with several
soldiers who had breached the sanctuary of the abbey.
    She'd not been able to catch a glimpse of their colors
as they bore down upon the front door of the convent, and truthfully had no
idea who would be intent upon violating tiny St. Esk. For all she knew, they
were marauding bandits or thieves come to confiscate what wealth they could
from God's holy house.
    The possibility that they were seasoned St. John
soldiers sent to sniff out the unmistakable aroma of a de Gare had never
occurred to her; she assumed, at the abbey, she would be safe from those who
would seek to harm her. But from the active noise transpiring on the moist lawn
of the convent, there were those not even the sanctity of the church could
repel.
    Certainly, it was not out of the realm of possibility.
In the northern wilds far away from the organization of London, quite a bit of sacrilege
and lawlessness took place without an over amount of surprise or fanfare. It
was simply the way of the chaotic northern territories and Gaithlin had grown
used to the anarchy. In fact, she had been a part of it.
    Whether or not England's crown was, at the moment,
relatively peaceful, she had never known a moment’s reprieve from warfare.
Since she was old enough to recall, the St. Johns had been waging battle on her
ancestral home and she had grown accustom to the constant raids, the death, and
the destruction.
    Never sent to away from her native fortress to foster
for fear of falling into St. John hands, Gaithlin had lived an extremely
sheltered life within the confines of Winding Cross. Her father had been
terrified that his only child would somehow become fodder for his most hated
enemy and had therefore sentenced his daughter to a life of utter friendlessness
and isolation. With only her mother and a few servants for companionship,
Gaithlin de Gare had lived a short life of unending, complete solitude all
because of the St. Johns.
    Eden was a large barony, far larger than Winding Cross
and understandably more powerful.