“Gather my things.” It was de Wolfe, snapping orders to the squires as he entered the tent. “Our army will depart within the hour and I want to be ready. You will also make sure de Lohr’s belongings are packed up but we will leave those with Normandy for safekeeping. Even now, du Reims and de Winter are mustering the quartermasters so make sure my trunks are loaded onto the wagons.”
The boys were scrambling; Ghislaine could hear them. The dog, lying next to her, suddenly popped up and moved away, rushing to his master when he heard his voice. Ghislaine, too, lifted her head about the time de Wolfe came into view. He glanced at her as he began pulling off gloves.
“We will be leaving as soon as my men can be mustered and the army organized,” he addressed her. “We will be heading north within the hour.”
Ghislaine struggled not to yawn. “The duke has given you his permission to go after your knight?”
“He has,” he said, throwing the gloves into a large chest. He went to work on removing his tunic. “How much do you know of this country, Lady Ghislaine? What I mean to ask is how well you know the path to this Tenebris that you have mentioned as Alary’s stronghold.”
Ghislaine, fuzzy-minded from hunger and the lack of sleep, had to ponder his question for a moment before answering. “I know it well,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “You must travel north from here and then veer northwest when you come to London. There is a main road, a Roman road, that will take you north all the way to Chester, but you must go west when you come to Kidderminster. That will take you to the Far Forest where Alary’s stronghold is.”
One of de Wolfe’s squires suddenly rushed into the tent, racing to help his master. The dog, who had been hovering by de Wolfe in the hopes of being petted, finally received a pat and, satisfied, moved away. Unfortunately for Ghislaine, he was coming in her direction again and she leaned away from the animal as it came near. She eyed the beast as it sat right down next to her as if they were the greatest companions in the world.
“Then what would you estimate as the time it would take for an army to travel to the Far Forest?” de Wolfe asked, oblivious to Ghislaine and her fear of the dog that had cozied up to her. “My concern is that we reach the Alary’s lair before winter sets in completely. Weather will hamper a mission such as this one.”
Ghislaine alternated between eyeballing the dog and de Wolfe. “It will be cold through Christmastide but winter usually does not set in until after the new year.” She inched away from the dog, who lifted his head to see why she had moved. “May I leave now? There is nothing more I can do for you. You know where Alary is taking your knight. I have told you all that I can.”
De Wolfe turned to her, his gaze appraising her, as if he knew something she didn’t. In fact, that wasn’t far from the truth. It was obvious by his expression that he was about to say something he was quite sure Ghislaine wouldn’t like.
“You are not going anywhere,” he said quietly. “You will be accompanying me and my men north as we follow your brother. You will be our guide.”
Ghislaine’s hunger and exhaustion were forgotten. She staggered to her feet as the dog next to her did the same, standing up because she was. But Ghislaine wasn’t looking at the dog; her gaze on de Wolfe was wide with shock.
“I cannot be your guide!” she said. “I must return to Tamworth Castle, to Edwin, and tell him what has happened. I am no longer of any use to you – I have done what I set out to do. I told you of your knight’s abduction and I told you where to find him. You must do the rest yourself!”
De Wolfe went back to unlacing his tunic, ignoring Ghislaine’s distress. “You are of great use to me,” he said, “and you shall not return home until I am finished with you.”
Ghislaine had no idea how to respond. Leading the Normans to the Anglo-Saxon encampment to find their knight and leading them on a perilous journey northward to follow her brother were two different things. The longer she gazed at de Wolfe, the more panic she began to feel. She couldn’t go northward; she had to go home. She wanted to go home. With that thought, she made a break for the door.
Gaetan was on her in a minute. He could see the bewilderment, the terror, in her eyes and he suspected she might try to run. It was just a feeling he had. When she suddenly darted for the tent entry, he was ready for her. He was bigger, stronger, and faster than she was and he grabbed her around the torso before she could get to the opening.
When she turned into a wildcat, Gaetan was not surprised; he simply held tight and tried not to get kicked in tender places. He turned away from the entry with her in his arms as his terrified squire bolted from the tent. The lad didn’t want to be caught up in any fight, which was wise of him. Even the dog scampered away, hovering nervously at the edges of the tent.
“Stop fighting,” Gaetan said quietly and somewhat calmly into her ear. “Cease your struggles, little mouse. It will not change the way of things.”
But Ghislaine was too overcome to respond. She did, however, feel his mouth by her right ear and she slammed her head in that direction, head-butting his jaw in what was a fairly hard blow. When he tried to move his head away from her, she stiffened up, threw her head back again, and caught him in the chin. The ensuing strike caused him to bite his tongue and he could already taste the blood.
“Release me!” she howled. “You have no right to hold me! Let me go!”
Gaetan had to admit that she put up a hell of a good fight. His little mouse may have been rather small and slender, but she was very strong for a woman. He was impressed. Moreover, she had a warrior’s instinct and she knew just how to hit him to break his hold on her, but he was more experienced than she was. He shifted his grip on her so she could no longer head-butt him, but he hadn’t taken into consideration her powerful, slender legs. She managed to wind her legs all around his somehow and, before he could catch himself, he ended up tripping and falling forward.
Ghislaine’s momentary victory in tripping up her captor ended in pain as she hit the ground and he fell atop her. He was a big man, his weight more than double hers, so when he fell on her, it knocked the wind from her. Her struggles slowed dramatically as stars danced before her eyes.
But for Gaetan, it was infuriating. He didn’t care if he fell on top of her or not. Once he was down, he rocked back on his knees and grabbed her by the arm and flipped her over onto her back.
“Foolish wench,” he growled. “What made you think you could win that fight? And what made you think that the moment you came into my encampment that I would not do with you as I pleased? Are you truly so naive?”