He stared at her but didn’t say anything.
“I sometimes say things before I think, things I shouldn’t, but I’m not sorry I warned you not to be vengeful.” She almost said, because I care about you, but her breath hitched in her throat and stopped her. He was almost like an older brother to her, after all they had been through together in such a short time, and she did care . . . a lot. Although the way she felt about him was not the same as the way she cared for her brothers, she didn’t want to dwell on that too much. When this was all over, he would go back to his family in England, and she would go back to her pleasant life in Hagenheim.
“Perhaps I do want revenge.” He picked up a chestnut off the ground beside him, seemed to be testing its weight, then threw it into the stream. With a hollow plop it sank out of sight. “But I think I am justified, after he murdered an innocent girl simply because she was pregnant with his child and he didn’t want to marry her.”
Understandable, but was it justified? Margaretha wasn’t sure what to say, but for the moment, with his lips pursed in that tense way, she didn’t think him quite as handsome as she had a few moments before.
Chapter
21
For the rest of the day, Colin thought about what Margaretha said. Their horses made good progress on the reasonably smooth roads. He might not admit it to Margaretha, but he did want revenge. He wanted revenge for his sister’s sake, whose innocence and sense of security had been shattered by the indefensible murder of her friend. He wanted revenge for his friend John’s sake, who had died because of his loyalty to Colin. He wanted revenge for his own suffering at the hands of Claybrook’s guards. And what difference did it make whether you called it revenge or justice? Wasn’t it the same thing? Surely God understood that Colin needed to bring Claybrook to justice.
But Colin also knew that it mattered to God what was in his heart. Motives mattered. And he hadn’t felt much peace — any peace, if he were honest with himself — since he left England.
He was too tired to think any more about this. It was already dark and they needed to find a place to sleep for the night.
He signaled to Margaretha and she turned her horse to follow him off the road and into the trees. Once again they were able to find the stream that wound close to the road. As he and Margaretha unsaddled their horses and tied them to a tree, Margaretha began saying, “We should only have about two more days of hard riding before we reach Marienberg. The horses are holding up well. I am thankful to see that. I’m not sure my mare at home would have fared as well.”
Colin thought he heard horses’ hooves. The sound was getting closer, and Margaretha must have heard them too, because she stopped talking and listened.
The horses — there must have been at least three of them — slowed on the road, which was only about twenty feet from where they were standing in the trees. Male voices were talking but he couldn’t make out the words. Then he heard, “. . . stop at this stream for the night.”
Margaretha moved nearer to Colin and the horses until she was standing close enough he could hear her breathing. It was too dark for him to see more than the outline of her, but she was facing the direction of the voices.
Four or five horses and riders left the road at almost the same spot where Colin and Margaretha had. The riders dismounted and led their horses to the stream. In the light of the moon, Colin could see that the men were wearing red tunics with gold stitching.
Margaretha grabbed his arm. She leaned close and whispered in his ear, “Those are Claybrook’s men.”
“Don’t move,” Colin whispered back to her.
Her hand still gripped his arm. Claybrook’s men milled around, talking and preparing to sleep there. If none of them came toward where he and Margaretha and their horses were standing, perhaps they could leave quietly and not be seen.
One by one, the men headed into the woods, no doubt to relieve themselves, then came back. Colin held his breath as the last man headed into the woods, walking within ten feet of them. Margaretha stood still next to him, but the horses were busy munching on what grass they could find at their feet. Would the sound of their powerful teeth biting through the grass reach the man’s ears as he walked past?
The man disappeared into the trees.
The others were talking as they set up camp, made a small fire, and seemed to be cooking something. As he added some sticks to the fire, one man said, “That Lady Anne is a fine one. When she marries Sir Reginald, think he’ll make her do the cooking?” His voice rumbled with laughter.
Another one snorted and said, “She’s too fine a lady for cooking. Reginald will lose all his money trying to keep her in silks.”