The Trinket Seller's Daughter Read online

  “Gargoyle, find them!”

  “Ay Archer, we will. We have searched that side of the road.”

  “Then we will search it again!”

  Allard dropped his hand from her mouth and wrapped his arm around her, drawing her close. She instinctively turned and leaned into him to feel his strength. From the corner of her eye she saw something flutter, she turned her head and realised what she was looking at. Lia Baul’s body lay not far from where Emelin and Allard were hiding. She was at the base of a tall tree, the breeze played with what remained of her cream damask gown and her lifeless eyes stared up into the sky above. Allard felt Emelin tremble; he tightened his grip in show of comfort but kept his attention fixed on the figures ahead of him.

  “Archer, I think I’ve found their trail,” called another voice.

  Archer spun the grey stallion around. “Excellent. We will break into groups. Gargoyle, take four men and head towards the stream, just in case they slip past us.” He turned and pointed to two burly men. “You and you - stay here and the rest of you come with me.” Turing his attention back to the wiry little man who found the trail he demanded, “Show me!”

  Allard silently cursed as he watched the group of outlaws break up and Archer ride out of sight. He couldn’t risk Ravenswood now, not with a group of Archer’s men between him and his home. He would not risk Emelin. Perhaps he should go back into the forest. Aye, if they followed he could lead them deeper into the forest and lose them there, then make his way to Cambridge and raise the alarm. He thought quickly.

  “Come Emelin, we must make haste.” He whispered into her ear. When he received no response he looked down and found that she was staring in the other direction. For the briefest of seconds he thought that the enemy had discovered them, but he followed her gaze and saw the dead woman. “Emelin, turn away.” He said gently.

  “Hers was the only body I could not find. I thought Master Baul must have held them off long enough for his wife to escape. I was wrong. Oh Allard, she looks as if she has been attacked by wild beasts not men.” She whimpered and buried her face into his shoulder.

  “Come Emelin, we must go and there is nothing we can do for her now,” he said as he pulled her up to her feet. “Quickly now, we must leave here before we are discovered.” He eyed the two ruffians who stood quite a distance away near a bend in the road. With luck, Allard thought that he and Emelin could slip away without detection. They began to creep cautiously, he leading the way and holding tightly onto Emelin’s small hand. He thought that they were going to make it, just a few more feet and they would be totally obscured by the dense green forest. A shout sounded from behind and he could hear the sound of footsteps breaking through the undergrowth. He ran on, winding his way through the trees, all the while pulling Emelin behind him. The forest opened up into a small clearing. Allard pushed Emelin behind him, and drawing his sword, he stood ready to face the oncoming attack. Two unkempt men broke into the clearing, the first was a large man with muscular arms, long greasy hair and a beard. The second was shorter with a protruding belly and a crooked nose. As they advanced forward, Allard watched in anger as their eyes clouded over in dark lust when they saw Emelin.

  “Who is this pretty dove standing behind you?” Crooked nose broke into an evil smile and said leeringly, “Come lady, for I long to acquaint myself with you.”

  “You will not touch her,” Allard answered in a quiet voice.

  “Soon you will be beyond caring.” The bearded man chuckled as he readied his sword. “Come boy, it will all be over in a moment.”

  “Aye, it will,” Allard vowed as he stepped forward and brought his sword down. The men jumped back but it was crooked nose who fell, with a look of sheer disbelief on his face as Allard continued to advance and thrust his sword into his stomach. The bearded man watched his colleague sink noiselessly to the ground before letting out a roar and attacking with a force that Allard had never encountered. He continually blocked each sword blow as it came, but he swore that his teeth clattered from the vibration each time. Yet where his opponent was stronger, he had the advantage of being swifter and more agile. The bearded man’s prediction had been accurate, although it had not played out in the way he had envisioned. Within minutes it was Allard who stood over the lifeless body of his foe.

  Emelin ran to him and instinctively threw her arms around him. “Allard are you injured?” Drawing back, she looked him up and down making sure that he was still in one piece.

  Allard was touched by her concern. “I am fine, Emelin. Do not fret yourself. I am unhurt,” he reassured her. Taking her hand once more, he brought it to his lips. “Let us leave this place.” Still holding her hand and without a backward glance, Allard led her deeper into the forest.

  ~* * *~

  “Do you think that they will follow us?” Emelin asked. They had been walking for an hour or so and in all that time Allard had not relinquished her hand.

  “Aye, they will. That is why we are doubling back into the forest…mayhap we can lose them in here…mayhap it will give us enough of an advantage to reach help.”

  “But your men will come?”

  “Aye.”

  “Do you believe Garriden will make it Ravenswood?”

  “Aye.”

  “You do not think we should try for Ravenswood?”

  “Nay. I do not.” Allard said as he abruptly stopped and turned to her. She looked fatigued and there was worry in her eyes. “All will be well, Emelin,” he soothed as he drew her close and captured her lips with his own.

  Emelin felt a warmth spread through her body as Allard’s kiss began to deepen. Her arms reached around his broad shoulders and wrapped about his neck. The warmth began to build into a fire and she became molten and pliant within his strong embrace. The rhythm of his heart beat against her chest and she heard his intake of breath as she began to kiss him back. Encouraged by her response, his hands began to move over her body, leaving a trail of excitement and longing in their wake. Emelin moaned against his mouth as he cupped her breast, her fingers ran through his raven dark hair pulling him closer.

  “Trust me; there is nothing to fear,” he murmured against her neck as he broke the kiss and Emelin realised that he was just as breathless as she. His hot breath fanned her throat and she almost begged him not to stop the bitter sweet torment. “I want you, Emelin. You fire my blood. I will protect you. We will escape this forest and you shall come and live with me at Ravenswood.” Again he claimed her mouth and drank deeply from it.

  She was swept away in a torrent of emotions and it was several minutes before his words penetrated her thoughts. Pulling away, she looked levelly into his velvet brown eyes which held such promise and asked, “As what?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What will I be at Ravenswood, Allard?”

  “Mine! My lover - my woman,” he answered with conviction. He kissed her deeply and for an instant Emelin allowed herself to be lost within it. “Everything that is mine, I will give to you. You will want for nothing. You will have your fill of fine garments and jewels, whatever you desire,” he whispered against her cheek.

  “What of your name, Allard…will you give me that?”

  Allard stiffened and drew away from her. Inside she knew what he would say and she chided herself for wanting more.

  “Dear heart, I will give you all I can and I swear that you will want for nothing, but I cannot take you as my wife. I am a knight and you are ....”

  “Only a trinket seller’s daughter,” Emelin finished his sentence. “Aye Allard, I know what I am.”

  “I will love you, coddle you and draw you into my heart,” he said softly whilst stroking her cheek. “You may ask me anything - but that.”

  Emelin broke from his embrace and walked to the other side of the great oak. She stared into the silent forest and a shiver ran through her, she wondered if it was because of the loss of his embrace or for what she was about to say. “Allard, I cannot stay with you at Ravenswood.
I thank you for your offer as it was a generous one. But I cannot be yours as I wish for a husband not a lover.”

  “Emelin, I offer you much.”

  “Aye, but tis not enough.”

  “God’s bones, Emelin! I cannot marry you!”

  “And when you marry another woman, will you cast me aside?”

  “Never, Emelin, never! You would be mine, always.”

  Emelin turned and face him with a small smile and overbright eyes. “Tis not enough. Forgive me, Allard, but I dream of a wedding by the Church door and nothing will sway me from it.”

  Allard stared at her for a moment, before turning away and striding off into the woods without another word. She sank to the ground and watched him go.

  ~* * *~

  As twilight’s darkening sky was casting its veil over the forest, Emelin and Allard sat in silence by the small fire. They had barely spoken in hours and now the deafening quiet was almost tangible, like a wall separating them.

  Emelin watched as Allard threw a stick on the fire, before lying down and closing his eyes. She knew that he was annoyed and even perplexed by her decision. He didn’t understand how his offer of a home and protection could be seen as less advantageous than marrying a peddler. He presented a life of comfort whereas a peddler could only offer striving and hardship.

  Emelin’s head hurt. It was not that she didn’t want Allard. Everything about him made her want him. From his kiss to his touch, he made her heart beat faster. He was strong and brave and had rescued her when he didn’t have to. Passion easily flared between them but Emelin wanted something more. With a sigh, she closed her eyes for a moment and rubbed her temples. She wanted what her parents had had – a life together founded not only on passion but also love. Yet as she lay down and stared at the flames, she wondered if she was asking too much.

  ~* * *~

  The late afternoon sun had started its descent towards the tree lined hill, and Emelin was struggling to keep up with Allard. He walked briskly through the undergrowth and she in turn, had to half walk, half run just to keep his disappearing figure in sight. In her mind she replayed what she had said to him the day before and in some ways she regretted it. She hadn’t wanted him to feel rejected, or to hurt him. She knew that love or even passion had very little to do with marriage – marriage was there to increase your land, wealth and to form alliances that would protect your house. Only the very poor could marry for love, just as her parents had done. So she began to wonder whether she was merely chasing a dream founded on wishes and smoke. She was coveted by a knight, who had vowed to protect her…was that in itself enough? She knew that she wanted him but at what sacrifice and could she ever reconcile her heart and her head. Thoughts whirled around her mind like leaves caught in the autumn wind and with each step she became more confused with what her heart truly wanted. She was so preoccupied with her thoughts she failed to notice the sound of a twig snapping behind her. Emelin cried with fright as she was caught from behind. She struggled but was held fast in a vice like grip. With fetid breath, a man crooned in her ear.

  “Be still lady.” Emelin twisted her head in the attempt to evade his foul breath. “Be still, I say!”

  “Release me. Let me go! Let me go!” she spat as she fought back. She strained, twisted, struggled and kicked but still she could not break free. The minutes slipped by but the man easily evaded all of her attempts to liberate herself. She began to tire and his hand clamped over her mouth. “Shhh. Archer will be pleased. We hunt a knight but finding you is a boon.” She felt the bile rise in her throat as his other hand began to rove over her torso and settle upon her breast. “But mayhap I should acquaint myself with you before I hand you over. What think you John? John - where are you?” Emelin felt herself being swung about as her captor turned around in a slow circle calling out for his friend. Twenty feet away another man wearing peasant rags stood by a tree. “Ah John, look at the pretty little dove I have found.”

  Allard stood obscured from view, his eyes narrowed with growing anger as he watched the ruffian touch Emelin with his filthy hands. He cursed himself as well for his inability to keep her safe, it was just that her rejection had rattled him to the core. He had not meant to stride off and leave her defenceless. They had been walking in silence for a long time and his mind was busy trying to work out where he had gone wrong – why would she reject everything he had offered? Allard knew that she wanted him, he could feel the slow burning fire between them every time they kissed or touched. Her cry of fright had snapped him back to reality. It was only then that he realised just how far Emelin had lagged behind. Running swiftly, he circled back and found her struggling to regain her freedom. Just ahead of him, another peasant was eyeing the commotion and licking his lip with anticipation. Allard silently removed his knife from its sheaf and crept forward.

  “John unfortunately cannot answer your question,” Allard called as he stepped casually out from behind the tree and let John’s body fall to the ground. “As you can see he is indisposed.”

  The look of surprise registered on the man’s sharp face at his friend’s demise, but it was quickly replaced with a shrewd sneer. “You be De Gerril?”

  “Aye.”

  “Archer seeks you. He is not far from here.”

  ‘We will meet soon enough,” Allard answered as he sauntered forward. He noted the relief that shone in Emelin’s eyes. “Now release my lady and face me!”

  “She is a peasant, not a lady of rank. Fights like a hellcat too. But then mayhap she is more?” Never taking his eyes from Allard’s, he tilted her head, kissed her cheek and dropped his hand down her bodice to squeeze her breast. He watched with satisfaction as fury swept over Allard’s face and he started to walk purposely forward. “Ah. She be your doxy then.”

  “Nay, you are mistaken. She is my lady. Now release her and fight me!”

  The man waited until there was only a few feet separating them and then without warning he almost threw Emelin at Allard. She stumbled and Allard instinctively tried to catch and steady her. Simultaneously the ruffian drew his knife and followed in her wake. Allard pushed her to one side, just as Archer’s man launched at him and toppled him to the ground, with a shout of triumph sank the blade of the knife into the knight’s left shoulder. Allard grunted with pain as the outlaw pulled out the knife and readied himself to strike again – his mistake was that he paused for an instant to bask in his imminent victory. Suddenly, Emelin struck him on the side of the head with a thick branch; the impact sent him sprawling to the ground – giving Allard time to recover. He quickly regained his footing and drew his sword. The peasant scrambled to his feet and charged at Allard, screaming as he went. He fell silent as the sword pierced his heart. With a look of disgust, Allard withdrew his sword from the corpse and turned and walked towards Emelin, he opened his arms and she flew to him and his tight embrace. His hand caressed her face and searched her eyes, before he kissed her with an urgency which made Emelin breathless. It was a kiss filled with longing and tenderness and promise, and she stood in awe of its power. Breaking off he whispered in her ear, “I thought that I had lost you. You almost slipped away.”

  Emelin pulled back from his embrace and looked in the eyes. “But you didn’t lose me.” She reached up and kissed him once more. “You came back for me.” Shaking her head, she gathered her wits and desperately tried to focus on his wounded shoulder. “Allard, your arm needs binding properly.” Taking his knife from his waist, she bent down and quickly cut several large strips from her shift.

  “Aye, but it must wait.”

  She tugged at his good arm until he reluctantly gave in and sat down. “Nay, I have to stop the bleeding,” she said as she loosened his gambeson and eased it over his shoulder, along with his fine linen shirt. Quickly she folded two of the strips into a pad and placed it over the wound and then she proceeded to wind the other strip around his shoulder tying it off tight. She hoped that the pressure of the dressing would stop the bleeding or at least ease i
t.

  “We must leave this place before Archer arrives,” he said looking into her beautiful face. “Emelin, forgive me for leaving you, I swear it will never happen again.”

  She brushed his black hair from his eyes and gave him a sweet smile. “There is nothing to forgive. Here, lean on me as we walk,” she said as she tried to help him up.

  “I am not an invalid, woman,” he said gruffly as he threw his good arm about her shoulders and drew her close. “Remind me to put you to work when we reach Ravenswood.” She gave him a confused look but before she could ask what he meant, he said, “You can train my men how to use a branch correctly.”

  Emelin tried to suppress a giggle and Allard grinned back at her. “Nay, I believe every knight should be taught how to wield a branch in the proper manner.”

  As they walked on, her giggle turned into a laugh but it was cut short, when in the near distance shouts could be heard. Once again, Allard took her by the hand as they ran through the forest – hunted.

  ~* * *~

  As they made their way through the green woods, Emelin could hear Archer and his men always in relentless pursuit. The forest itself became a barrier and slowed their escape. Brambles caught at her skirt, tree roots tripped her and bushes snagged at her hair as she passed. Allard kept a firm clasp of her hand as he urged her on – deeper and deeper into the forest. The trees stretched above overshadowing the light of day. It was cool, dark and smelt of wet soil and green growing things. They ran towards a fallen log which lay half hidden behind some hawthorn bushes. It had once been a mighty tree but now it was only half a shell, time had eroded it and it had begun to sink back into the earth, from whence it had come. Quickly he pushed Emelin into the log and then followed. They lay hidden within the old tree, huddling together, breathless and praying that Archer and his men would pass them by. Through the bushes Allard could see the forest directly in front of the log. The outlaws came into the view. Archer brought up the rear, walking Nicodemus through the rough terrain while his two men fanned out ahead looking for any clues to where the couple had flown. Emelin’s heart began to hammer in her chest as the voices drew closer and closer.