Finally free, Annabel turned to run. Bailiff Tom ranted behind her, “I’ll ruin you. I’ll say you enticed me and every man in the village.”
She only ran a few steps when her foot struck something and she pitched forward, landing on her hands and knees in the sticks and leaves. Someone grabbed her by her armpits and pulled her up.
“Get away from me.” She gasped for breath, pushing at the person’s chest with her arms.
“Annabel? Are you well? I was at the men’s privy and thought I heard a struggle.” It was Stephen’s voice. He held her away from him, his face illuminated by the moonlight.
“I have to get away.” Her heart beat so hard it shook her. She looked over her shoulder and immediately regretted it. The bailiff staggered to his feet and started toward her, the knife in his hand.
Stephen let her go. Annabel ran two steps and stopped, whispering loudly to Stephen, “Run! If we hurry he won’t be able to follow.” But Stephen stood still, facing the bailiff.
O God, I want to run. But she had to make sure the bailiff didn’t hurt Stephen.
“What are you about, man?” Stephen asked. “Will you kill her with that knife? Kill me?”
Bailiff Tom was breathing hard now. “Get away from here, cripple. No one wants you — the devil’s own spawn.”
Stephen bent down and picked up the rock she had stumbled over. It was large, as big as a man’s head. He held the stone against his stomach. “What were you doing to her?”
Tom cackled like a man possessed. Annabel clutched her throat.
“What do you know of what happened? Now get out of here. This here is Lord le Wyse’s land. You think he wants daft, deformed cripples putting curses on his crops?”
The bailiff stepped toward them, the knife high, as though he was preparing to strike. He was only a few steps away and coming closer. In two seconds he would be within reach of Stephen.
Stephen hefted the rock and grunted as he let it fly. Annabel gasped as the rock slammed into Bailiff Tom’s head near his right eye. Tom fell to the ground, his body landing with a muffled crash in the twigs and leaves of the forest floor.
Annabel held her breath as she waited to see if the bailiff would move. Relief stole through her. I can make it back safely now. But the longer she watched his motionless body, the more fear squeezed her throat.
Stephen broke the stillness. “O God, be merciful.” He crossed himself and stepped toward the bailiff. He knelt beside him and held his hand against Tom atte Water’s neck. Then he placed his hand over his mouth and nose, waiting.
He looked up at Annabel. “I think he’s dead.”
Dead. The word echoed in her mind. This must be a bad dream. Surely Stephen was mistaken. What terrible thing would happen to Stephen if the bailiff was dead?
Her stomach churned and her knees wobbled, forcing her to lean against the nearest tree. When that didn’t stop the buzzing in her head, she sank to the ground, still staring at the bailiff’s body.
I am to blame.
The thought struck her hard, like a stab in the ribs.
Her eyes focused on the knife, still clutched tight in Bailiff Tom’s fist. If she hadn’t taken that knife to defend herself, hadn’t carried it in her pocket everywhere she went … She should have simply raised the hue and cry against the bailiff the moment she was free, should have tried harder to scream. Perhaps more people would have come to her aid, and this wouldn’t have happened.
She rubbed her cheeks and the spot between her eyes that burned like a bee sting. She hung her head almost to her knees, waiting for the burning sensation to subside.
Cautiously, she raised her eyes. Stephen’s body jerked from side to side as he struggled to get off the ground. “It’s done. It’s done. God forgive me.” He crossed himself. “God forgive me.”
“Are you sure he’s dead? Check again.”
“We have to get out of here.”
I’m to blame. Stephen was defending me. But she couldn’t help being glad that she was now safe from the bailiff’s evil intentions.
Stephen was right. They had to get out of there.
She got to her feet and grabbed Stephen’s arm. “Should I take my knife? Perhaps they will find out it’s mine and will think that I — “ She shivered at the unsaid words.
“Nay. Leave it.” Stephen looked pale in the scant light that filtered through the trees.
The hoot of an owl split the silence, making her flinch. She turned and saw the largest bird she’d ever seen perched on a branch at eye level, staring straight at her with huge red-orange eyes. Two tufts rose above his round head on either side. Black markings framed his old man’s bushy white eyebrows and mustache.
Annabel tore her eyes from the unearthly looking owl. Her heartbeat thundered in her head as she and Stephen hurried away from the bailiff’s body. Stephen didn’t go straight toward the manor house but led her deeper into the woods before finally turning back.