The Wolfe by Kathryn Le Veque Read Free Book Online

felt earlier seemed to creep up anew. Her
mouth went dry and she ran a pink tongue over her full lower lip.
    “Very well, sir knight, I am ready,”
she informed him with a firm voice.
    William reached down and picked her
up, setting her easily atop his massive horse. Without a word, he vaulted up
behind her and heard her grunt as his armor bumped into her soft body. Putting
a thick arm around her waist, he dug his heels into his horse and was gone from
the bailey with the other two knights close behind.
    The last glimpse Jordan had of her
beloved castle was the huge gates whisking past, and then, they were out into
the countryside. She knew, at that moment, that her life would never again be
the same.
     
     
     
     
     

 
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER FIVE
     
     
    Not a word was said between them.
     Since the moment Jordan mounted the
charger, she had kept as still and as quiet as she could, not even so much as
turning her head to look about her. She decided the best course was to be
silent and allow the captain to begin any and all conversations. Terrified, she
concentrated on keeping her head down and her eyes averted.
    When they had joined the main body
of the army, she discovered there were six more knights in addition to the
three that were riding with her. Nine massive, deadly English knights. Jordan
had never been more frightened in her entire life, and even though she could
not see their faces, she knew they were watching her intently. Head lowered and
hair hanging down to cover her face, she wished for invisibility. Or at least
she hoped they would ignore her. She was terrified that if someone spoke to
her, she would faint dead away.
    They rode south at a rather
leisurely pace until the sun was high above before stopping to rest. Jordan
knew it was for her benefit and was very grateful. Her back was killing her
from sitting so stiffly against the captain and her bottom was already sore.
When he lifted her down from the horse, her legs almost gave way from sheer disuse.
    Some men began to break out bread
and jerky, but she wasn’t hungry. Instead, she wandered aimlessly to a small
stream, making doubly sure to keep away from the bulk of the English soldiers
who seemed to be eyeing her with unsavory flare. The way they stared at her
made her skin crawl. She didn’t even know where the captain had gone, and she
felt very alone. Self-pity was growing.
    The water was icy and refreshing and
she ran a finger in it absently, her mind far back at Langton. She wondered
what her family was doing at this moment; were they glad to be rid of her? She
wondered if they were laughing and celebrating happily to be rid of the
squeamish girl with no taste for battle. She pouted and slapped at the water, feeling
lonesome and sad and disoriented. But in the back of her mind, she knew that
all of her worries about her family were foolish; they loved her and were
terribly sad she was gone. So was she.
    Above, birds twittered loudly in the
trees. She glanced up and saw a nest, knowing the birds were angry to have the
intrusion of humans. She clucked up at them and spoke soothing words, not
noticing until it was too late that there was a very large body next to her.
    “Would you like some wine?” It was
the captain.
    She went rigid. “Nay, thank ye.”
    He sat the bladder down and pulled
off his gauntlets; he was already helmetless. Kneeling, which was no easy feat
in a suit of armor, he splashed cold water on his face and shook his head,
pelting her with droplets. She tried not to look at him, her stomach quivering
with nerves.
    “Lady Jordan Scott, named for the
River Jordan,” he repeated her own words, spoken long ago. “I never thought to
see you again.”
    So he did remember. She felt a jolt
of surprise and another jolt of fear. Mayhap he remembered the slip-shod job
she did in repair of his wound. Mayhap he also remembered the merciless pain of
the whisky burn. She wondered with rising panic if he were going to drown her
in