The two young children stood quietly by the table near the door, the one harboring cooling meat pies that Dora had just baked. Moreover, Dora’s back was turned to the door and she had no idea they were there. Children of the servants often frequented the kitchen, which was why Josephine gave no thought to the children until they snatched two of the nearest pies and dashed out the door.
Dora and Josephine quickly turned in time to see the children racing off. Dora was already howling as Josephine ran after them.
“I’ll retrieve the pies, Dora!” she said as she blew by the flustered cook.
The little boys were fast. They rounded the corner and flew with unnatural speed into the inner bailey. Josephine, however, was closing the gap behind them. She rounded the corner as well, her dress flying out behind her as she pounded the dirt with her slipper-clad feet but she found herself hoping that the children would not drop the pies in their panic. Dirty meat pies would be a sad loss, especially Dora’s pies. She began to run faster, hoping to catch them.
Sully, Andrew, Etienne, and Thane were entering the inner bailey just as the children ran past them, almost plowing into Etienne. He jumped awkwardly out of the way, and all four men turned curiously to watch the children run off towards the main gate. They shrugged and started to proceed again, but then Josephine ran between the four of them in a pounding flash of braided hair and purple wool. That glimpse caused more of a reaction from the knights, and they were surprised at their mistress running after two children at top speed. It was Sully who moved first.
“God’s Bones,” he muttered, putting his hand on his sword to hold it steady. “This will prove to be interesting.”
He took off, followed by the other three in a close pack. Everyone in the outer bailey was frozen in mid-movement, watching their mistress run after two small children, and then watching two knights and two mercenaries running after her. Albert and Burl stood with their arms crossed and grins on their faces, shaking their heads at the humor of it. They had no idea what was going on, but it was great entertainment. But Christoph, John, and Severn, at their posts on the wall, gave the parade exiting the front gates uninterested looks. Whatever had happened was no concern of theirs.
The children were tireless as they tore down the road and, miraculously, the pies were still intact in their grubby little hands. A quarter of a mile down the road, however, they veered sharply to the left and headed into the woods. By now, Josephine was growing tired and was no longer amused by their little chase. She considered stopping, but rather decided it was the principle of the situation that she didn’t. To let them run free would constitute a success in their thieving little minds and would encourage them to try again. Besides, she was curious now – they had turned away from the village.
Where were they going?
Josephine stumbled a little as she entered the woods, but not bad enough to trip, yet enough to slow her a little. Ahead, she could see the little boys growing smaller in the foliage. Growing increasingly irritated, she started to run again, picking up speed, determined as ever to catch the little louts. They were not going to make a fool of her!
But the undergrowth was slowing her considerably. She plummeted through a thicket and splashed across a small stream, all the while growing angrier. Those little buffoons were ruining a perfectly good dress! As she went deeper into the growth, she began to slow, realizing the kids had lost her. It was difficult for her to admit that. Coming to a panting, sweaty stop, she stomped her foot in frustration.
“Damnation!” she muttered, planting her fists on her hips.
She glanced about, looking at the trees and surroundings, but there was no sign of the children. The smell of moldy leaves was heavy in her nostrils, causing her to sneeze once or twice. With a reluctant sigh, she turned to go, but something up ahead in the trees caught her attention. There was something moving through the trees in front of her. Smiling craftily, she drew up her skirts and stepped quietly towards the movement, being very careful to make no noise.
She was going to capture those boys yet.
Josephine could see a small group of people in a clearing up ahead, sitting around a small fire. It was difficult to tell who or what they were, but her better sense told her to turn around and leave as quietly as she came. Generally, a group of people camping far deep in the woods was never a good thing. It indicated thieves, outlaws, and the like. Suddenly, her enthusiasm to catch those young thieves wasn’t so strong anymore.
Cautiously, she stopped behind a large tree, peering around it and watching the people in the distance. They looked like wanderers, dirty and unkempt. Decidedly uncomfortable, Josephine decided the best course of action would be to return to the castle, quickly, and she kept her eyes on the clearing while she began to back away. But it was already too late; her path was abruptly blocked by a warm body, and as she started to scream, a dirty hand went over her mouth.
Blind panic filled Josephine as she was dragged into the clearing by her neck, kicking and fighting all the way. She still had not seen her attacker, but she could hear him mumbling something unintelligible with his stinking breath. He had her by the neck and by the hair, and she was unable to even make a fighting attempt to flee.
He had her solidly.
As they approached the group of people in the clearing, everyone seemed to panic at the sight of her at first until they realized that she was, in fact, a prisoner. They suspiciously eyed Josephine, looking at the person who held her questioningly. Josephine’s heart sank as she realized these people were the scum of the earth, uneducated and without sense or morals. They taught their children to steal but the older ones did worse than that. Taking the possessions she had on her, her shoes and jewelry, would probably be the very least they would take.
She was going to have to think fast to get herself out of this one.
God, why did she run after those boys?
As Josephine looked anxiously at the people around her, the two little boys she had been chasing stepped out from behind the adults, smiling mischievously and chewing sloppily on a hunk of meat pie. She would have liked nothing better than to wring their little necks.
“Och, whatch got, Zef?” one of the men asked.
The man holding her laughed lewdly. “Mayhap, one of the wood nymphs I have heard stories told,” he said. His accent was not Scot; it was very, very English. “She’s pretty like one, isn’t she? Smells good, too.”
He took a long smell of her hair and Josephine cringed, trying to pull away as the men standing around laughed lewdly. But the man who had spoken before pointed at her.
“If she were a nymph, she’d be naked as a baby,” he said. He was fat, dark, and dirty. “Mayhap she’s a fae, come to grant our wishes!”
The group laughed loudly and Josephine felt sick with fear. She had been so stupid to let her determination get the better of her. She should have never followed the boys into the trees, and when she saw the dirty wanderers in the clearing, she should have run at the mere sight of them. What a foolish female she was. And now, what would her silly woman’s curiosity cost her? No doubt, they would strip her of her clothing. But most likely, she would relinquish her virginity as well.
How could she have been so stupid?
A woman burst forth from the small gathering and rushed straight at Josephine. The woman was disheveled and her black hair was dirty and unkempt. Reaching out with long, filthy fingers, she yanked the pendant Josephine had been wearing right off of her neck.
“Ha!” she crowed triumphantly, holding the jewelry up for all to see. “She has already granted my wish!”
The clan roared wildly and Josephine’s first urge was to grab the woman and pound her face into the ground. But, wisely, she refrained, for she knew she was heavily outnumbered. But she vowed she would get that necklace back and that little witch would pay.
They would all pay.
But that was providing she ever had the upper hand. As she stood there, fearful and angry, the fat man stepp
ed forward and motioned to the man holding her.
“Let her go,” he ordered. “I’m interested to know who she is.”
The man let Josephine go but shoved her when he did. She fell forward onto her knees, almost pitching onto her face. But she caught herself and, deliberately brushing off her hands in a gesture of pure disgust, she remained on her knees. She wasn’t one to cower, but she wasn’t going to stand up and give them a target to strike at. With disdain, she glared up at her captors.
The fat man read her expression, but he was more interested in studying her fine curves. She was a delicious, ripe morsel, ready to be plucked. He sauntered over to her and stood directly in front of Josephine, appraising her openly. She stared back angrily, her cheeks flushing a rosy color.
“What’s your name, lass?” he finally asked.
She looked at him a few long seconds before answering. It was her way of controlling the situation. She was going to make him wait.
“Josephine,” she finally said.
“Josephine,” he repeated slowly, rolling it on his tongue. “Josephine. What were you doin’ in the woods, Josephine?”
She looked at the two little boys, grinning back at her. They all probably knew what she was doing in the woods, so she couldn’t lie. She straightened her back and looked back up.
“I was running after two little thieves,” she said.
A small chuckle bounced about the group; somebody tousled one boy’s hair. The fat man smiled.
“They were simply hungry,” he said. “They stole to feed us all. Is that still thievin’?”
“It is,” she shot back. “They did not have to steal. I would have given them the pies and more had they only asked.”
The man’s smile was fading. “You are too kind, my lady,” he said, but his tone was menacing. “You are a saint. Tell me, are all castle servants as gracious as you?”
“Castle servant?” she said in outrage. “I am the Mistress of Torridon, not a castle servant.”
The man’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Mistress of Torridon?” he repeated with mock courtesy. “Oh, I beg your forgiveness, my lady.”
She knew immediately telling him had been a grave mistake. She cursed herself for her annoying habit of speaking before thinking. Damnation, she hadn’t done a single thing right since she left the kitchen in pursuit of those two guttersnipes. She prayed that the knights that saw her leave had enough sense to come looking for her before too much time had passed, because it did not appear that she was doing too well on her own.
She needed help.
As Josephine knelt on the grass and struggled not to tremble, the fat man was staring at her. He had no doubt she was telling the truth, for she was as fine and pretty as any queen. But she was the Mistress of Torridon, which meant her husband was probably very aware his wife was gone and, perhaps, was hotly searching the area now. If she was located with a group of outlaws, it could go very bad for the outlaws.
Daume was a gypsy and a thief, but he was not stupid. He knew if her husband found her here with them, he would most likely kill them all. They could flee, but they’d either have to take her with them or kill her so she couldn’t tell her husband.
He had to make a choice.
“Bind her hands,” he said finally.
Josephine looked at him in shock. He had been almost pleasant talking to her, but now he was ordering her restrained. In truth, she had almost been expecting it, but was hoping he wouldn’t. The disgusting man that had captured her in the woods gleefully grabbed her arms and bound her wrists tightly in front of her, touching her cheek with a dirty finger before rising.
“Gag her until we decide what is to be done,” Daume instructed.
A grimy rag was shoved in her mouth and tied snugly. Josephine was absolutely terrified at this point; she truly had no idea what was going to happen next. Would she even make it out of this alive? She found herself worrying about Justine. What would happen to her without Josephine’s guidance? And Sully… what would he do without her? Certainly, he could run Torridon quite adequately, but she wondered if he would even miss her.
Then… there was Andrew.
God, why was she even thinking about the man? She had known him exactly four days and wasn’t sure if she even liked him. He was conceited, arrogant, pompous… but he had let it slip that he could be caring and sensitive as well. And watching him train with the men had excited her more than she would care to admit.
As much as she told herself that her interest in Andrew was purely for the fact that he was a new and interesting face at Torridon, she found herself sorry she might not ever get to know him better. The Red Fury seemed to be the antithesis of his formidable reputation, but she wanted to find that out for herself. He intrigued her, as much as she hated to admit it. Anyone who took two punches from her without hitting back couldn’t be all that ferocious.
A big, grubby male grabbed her by the upper arm and roughly pulled her to her feet, jolting her from her train of thought. He pulled her over to the other side of the campfire and cruelly pushed her down. With a grunt, Josephine landed heavily on her left side, but slowly pushed herself up as he walked away. All the while, her eyes were shooting daggers at the people who were now very much her enemy. Her thoughts began to turn to escape. She would have to be very aware of any opportunity. Perhaps, she would even have to form a plan.
She wasn’t going to go down without a fight.
As Josephine struggled to come up with a plausible escape plan, there was some commotion in the trees to the west. The gypsies jumped to their feet and began running about in a panic. Josephine was sitting on her knees, straining her neck to see what was transpiring. She was not frightened, only tremendously relieved that the attention was diverting away from her. Maybe this was the opportunity she had been looking for.
Maybe it was time for her to run.
She was looking for an escape route when she saw two men emerging from the woods. She saw them and heard them, but it wasn’t until they actually approached the camp that she realized the two men were none other than Andrew and Thane. Neither one seemed to notice her, so intent on the conversation they were having with Daume.
There were greetings being tossed about and Andrew seemed quite amiable. Josephine watched with increasing confusion as Andrew and Thane proceeded to sit heavily on a log directly across from her, graciously accepting the cups and the platters of fatty meat offered to them. Still, they didn’t look at her.
They ignored her completely.
It was fortunate that Josephine was gagged because she would have given both men a piece of her mind. She could not believe her eyes. There was The Red Fury and his general, as large as life, consorting with the enemy.
At first, she wondered if this wasn’t some sickening trick and that, perhaps, Andrew and his mercenaries were in cahoots with these criminals. They were chatting animatedly with her captors, as if they had everything in common, even laughing at the buffoon’s crude jokes.
Was it possible that this had been their plan all along, to get her out of Torridon?
But, no. That kind of collusion didn’t make sense on too many levels. Josephine may have been frightened, but she wasn’t irrational. Whatever was happening now was improvised, but she couldn’t understand why Andrew wasn’t trying to save her.
Shock gave way to full-blown anger. How dare Andrew ignore her in her time of need? He hadn’t so much as cast her an uninterested glance and the anger in her belly began to burn. If she was fortunate enough to make it out of this, Andrew wasn’t going to get a single mark out of her. Not one bloody pence. He’d be lucky if she didn’t throttle him with her bare hands.
Anger was a miraculous motivator. Josephine shot to her feet, unable to speak, but unintelligible sounds emitted from her throat as she told Andrew d’Vant exactly what she thought of him. Andrew and the others looked at her in surprise, startled by her sudden movement, but Josephine didn’t care. She was so angry at Andrew that the gypsies
were all but forgotten in her rage. God’s Toes, she was going to thrash him even if it cost her greatly. He wasn’t going to get away from this.
But Andrew seemed to have something else in mind and Josephine was about to find out what, exactly, that was. Perhaps, he wasn’t ignoring her so much, after all, when he pointed to her and asked about her. Somehow, the subject of a price came up and the next thing she realized, someone was yanking her to her feet.
Josephine quickly discovered that she had underestimated Andrew.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The knights in their mail and heavy swords had fallen far behind their nimble young mistress as she ran after the two children with the stolen meat pies.
Despite the knights’ individual strength, which was considerable, the weight of the metal and leather dragged them down. By the time Josephine and the two children disappeared into the woods, the knights were quite far behind them.
She’d simply been faster.
But once the knights entered the woods, Josephine’s trail was not difficult to follow. That was fortunate for them, for it was even slower going as they moved their bulk amongst the trees with the swords banging and branches slapping at them.
They followed the trail that led them through hedges, undergrowth, and across a small stream. Only Andrew seemed to be gaining any headway through the thicket, staying a few steps ahead of Sully, Etienne, and the floundering Thane. Men in armor were not designed for swift movement or traveling through undergrowth.
It was Andrew who saw Josephine first as she stood behind the tree, watching people in what seemed to be a small clearing. He was immediately uncomfortable with the situation; he didn’t like the idea of people hiding deep in the woods, as it could only mean one thing – outlaws, transients, or worse. And he thought that Josephine should know better, too – why wasn’t she turning and heading right back where she came from? Whatever those children stole certainly wasn’t worth what these gypsies would do to her if they discovered her.