Ghislaine let out an ironic snort. “I suppose I cannot now that he has saved me.”
As if on cue, Camulos stood up and made his way over to her, wagging his big tail and licking her on the chin. Ghislaine put her arms around the dog and hugged him as Gaetan stood up, glancing over at Aramis, who did the same. He noted that Aramis was watching Ghislaine with the dog, a grin on lips that very rarely saw one.
Jealousy began to creep into Gaetan’s veins but he struggled not to show it. Even though Aramis had graciously agreed to give up his pursuit of the lady, still, Gaetan didn’t quite trust him. He hated that suspicion but he simply couldn’t help it. Laboring to put that aside, he turned to Téo, who was standing off to his left.
“I will take the lady with me since we left her mare back in Worcester,” he said. “How far from Worcester do you believe we have come?”
Téo glanced at the land around them. “At least five or six miles,” he said. Then, he turned to Wellesbourne, who was standing several feet behind him. “Do you know where we are?”
Wellesbourne heard the question and looked about the landscape, trying to get his bearings.
“I think so,” he said. “The lady would know better than I would, but I believe there is a road to the north that will take us to Kidderminster.”
Still hugging the dog, Ghislaine heard him. She let the beast go, struggling to her feet as both Gaetan and Aramis rushed forward to help her. With Gaetan on one arm and Aramis on the other, they pulled her to her feet. When she staggered because of the pain in her leg, Gaetan swooped down and picked her up, effectively taking her away from Aramis.
But Ghislaine was unaware of the competition between them. She was in Gaetan’s enormous arms and nothing felt more right or more natural. She looped an arm behind his neck to steady herself, but it was such a delicious position to be in that she nearly forgot about Wellesbourne’s assessment of their location. She would have much rather lost herself in Gaetan’s eyes and would have, too, had she not caught sight of Wellesbourne in her periphery. She was compelled to give the man an answer or risk looking like a besotted fool.
In Gaetan’s arms, all was right in the world again.
“I truly am not even sure where we are,” she said. “When I left Worcester, I crossed the river and just kept walking. You say we are five or six miles to the east?”
Wellesbourne and Gaetan were nodding. Ghislaine began to look at her surroundings. “I wonder if we are near the disputed lands,” she said pensively. When Gaetan looked at her curiously, she explained. “There are lands in this area that are claimed by a tribe that calls themselves the Tertium. My brother, Edwin, has had some contact with them but they are very warlike and they keep to themselves. I have not known anyone who has had any contact with them other than in battle. It is possible we have entered their lands but I cannot be sure.”
Gaetan was listening with interest. “Tertium,” he repeated. Tertium meant “third” in Latin. “Bartholomew, have you ever heard of the Tertium?”
Wellesbourne nodded. “I seem to recall my father speaking of them,” he said. “The lady is right; they are warlike.”
“Tertium is a Latin word. Why would they call themselves that?”
Wellesbourne shook his head. “The Romans were all around here hundreds of years ago,” he said. “Mayhap it was a name given to them by the Romans. Or it could even be a name given to them by the church; who knows? I’ve not heard why.”
It didn’t really matter but Gaetan found it curious nonetheless. However, the fact that they were warlike concerned him. “If we are near their lands, mayhap we had better leave quickly,” he said. Then, he looked to Ghislaine. “You mentioned after we left Evesham that we were a day’s ride from Tenebris.”
Ghislaine nodded. “It is to the north. If we continue north on this road, surely it will lead to something I will recognize, for I do not recognize anything around us at the moment.”
Gaetan looked at her, his face very close to hers as he held her. The mere sight of that dirty porcelain-beauty face was enough to set his heart aflutter. He was more relieved than he could express that they’d found her but he wouldn’t dream of verbalizing that relief. At the moment, he was focused on getting them out of an area that was evidently either on or near disputed lands.
But his concern came too late. As he and his men turned and headed through the trees to the rest of the horses that were grazing on the side of the road, a piercing, singing sound suddenly burst overhead.
Gaetan knew that sound all too well and so did his men. It was the sound of a flying projectile, an arrow, and his warrior training kicked in. He fell to his knees, dumping Ghislaine onto the ground, and covered her with his body as two arrows hit the ground within very close vicinity. Several more sang overhead and all of the knights went to the ground, trying to protect themselves.
But it was a short flurry. When the arrows stopped flying, Gaetan leapt to his feet and pulled Ghislaine up with him, fully intending to make it to his broadsword, which was sheathed on his saddle. Around him, he could see his men unsheathing swords and daggers that were on their bodies, preparing for a fight, as the trees suddenly came alive with people.
But it wasn’t an organized army; dirty savages began to advance on them in groups, bows with arrows reloaded, pointing directly at them. Gaetan was handicapped with an injured woman to protect and he pushed her to the ground even as he stood up. He didn’t want her making herself a target for any further arrows that might come flying at them.
Quickly, Gaetan assessed the situation; arrows seemed to be their weapon of choice because he didn’t see any swords. But every man had a bow and arrow, and each knight under his command had at least five or six of them aimed straight at him. If those arrows let loose, it would take them all down. There would be no way to fight it.
Very quickly, he could see that they were in an extremely dire situation.
Gaetan had been a commander for many years and, as Normandy’s Warwolfe, it was recognized that he was the very best. Being a great commander meant that he knew when the odds were insurmountable and resistance was futile. This, unfortunately, was one of those times. They were cornered, all of them, and there was nothing they could do about it.
All they could do was surrender and pray the enemy would show mercy.
Jaw ticking with the sickening realization, he slowly lifted his hands to show that he had no weapons.
“Drop the swords,” he told his men, steadily. “Put them away unless you want to die in a hail of arrows.”
Du Reims, de Lara, de Winter, and de Reyne obeyed immediately. De Russe, de Moray, St. Hèver, and Wellesbourne were slower to respond. They were the battle beasts, men who refused to surrender even when it was the wise thing to do. Gaetan could see that they refused to relinquish and he barked at them.