Page 56 of Lord of the Forest

Lancelot strode around the house to the gardens, and she trotted alongside, trying to keep pace with him.

“What has happened? Why did you bring that man here?”

“I have but little time to explain it, my love. Come, is there anyone in the barn, think you? I wish to be unobserved.”

The chill that had been with her since her conversation with her mother dissipated. She went with him into the warm, dusty darkness of the hay barn, wantonly expectant.

The kiss he gave her as soon as the shadows swallowed them did not disappoint. It was as if through the passionate uniting of their lips, their souls touched. But all too soon, it was over, and he pulled away, leaving her breathless and wanting more.

“It hurts me more than I can say to spend so brief a time with you. Much is afoot, and as soon as it is over, we can prepare for our nuptials. Be assured, my sweet, I love you with every sinew in my body, with every last drop of my heart’s blood. But I cannot rest easy until Paris is found, and his earthly remains consigned to sacred ground. I know you would feel the same if it were a sibling of yours who’d been murdered.”

She gripped his hand tightly. “Was it Walter? Has he confessed?”

“Not publicly. But to me, he has admitted it. I extracted his story on the promise that I would stand him bail.”

“You mean, he’s free until his trial?”

“If he attempts to break bail, his punishment will be all the harsher. I trust him no more than you, but he swore, if I had him released long enough to organize his affairs, he would show me where he disposed of Paris’ body. We are now bound thither.”

“Should you not take Sir Kester with you or one of the justices of the peace? Take a constable, at the very least.”

“Later. Walter would not countenance it at this point. We have agreed that, if he leads me to the body, I will not press the charge of murder, but only continue with that of theft. For he has certainly stolen many items from Emborough to which he had no legal right. When his house at Glemham was searched, numerous valuables were discovered bearing the de Glanville crest. I have now put in a counterclaim to Chancery, with the assistance of Master Hardy, who assures me Emborough will soon be mine. We need not delay our marriage. Assuming you still care for me?”

Of course, she did. But her love was laced with anger. “It sounds a foolish thing to do. If he killed your brother and almost killed you, how do you know he won’t try it again? He has no scruples.”

He spread his hands. “You think I don’t know that? I’ll not let him out of my sight. I’ll keep him always in front of me. You have not yet seen how quickly I can move through the forest.”

“Is that where the deed was done?”

“Aye, but several miles from where I found myself after the attack. As I knelt over Paris’ limp body, hoping against hope to revive him, to stanch the flow of blood from his stomach wound, Walter stole up and clubbed me from behind. To make sure I never recovered consciousness from the blow, he stabbed me several times where I lay prone beside my brother’s body. Then, thinking the deed done, he rolled me into the water, assuming the river would take me farther than it did. He hadn’t reckoned on my additional weight, you see. I went no farther than the other side of the forest.”

She put her hand to her throat. The sheer, cold-blooded cruelty of the attack stole her breath. Lancelot had been left for dead. It was a horrific thought. “The wounds on your back were shallow, thank the Lord.”

“I always wore good, finely-woven cloth. It seems a couple of layers of quality silk can be surprisingly strong. I remember having a leather jerkin over my doublet on that day, as the air was chill.”

“You remember it?” This was surely good news.

“Some of it, aye. Nothing after the attack, however. I just know Paris and I had gone out hawking on our own, while staying with a family friend in Essex. Walter had not been invited, so everyone assumed he was kicking his heels at Glemham and was miles away.”

“So, what exactly happened to Paris?”

“My brother and I became separated when his hound scented something of interest in the undergrowth. He had to go after it on foot—that was when Walter slaughtered my brother. I found Paris dying from his wounds while his dog whined and licked his face. I knelt—and then knew nothing more.”

It was a grim question to ask, but she had to know. “What did he do with Paris’ body thereafter? Did he not roll it into the water, as he did with you?”

“He says not. He claims he buried it. If my body was found, people might think Paris had killed me, then fled. If his was found, the opposite would be believed true. But if both bodies were discovered, Walter would be the most obvious subject. So, having somewhat foolishly left the discovery of my body to chance, he decided to ensure Paris’ corpse would be buried so deep, so secretly, it would never be found. Unless it suited his plans that it should be. I confess that I cannot understand the mind of one who can steal the life of another in cold blood.”

She clutched at him. “And yet you mean to go into the forest with him? Alone? To a part of it you don’t know?” It sounded like utter folly.

“Be not alarmed. I have every intention of keeping my skin whole. But I must do something to retrieve Paris’ body. You do understand that, don’t you?”

Aye, she did. But he should go with others. Be damned to his promise to Walter that he would go alone! Must she weep, kneel before him and beg him not to trust the word of that immoral cur, Walter de Glanville?

Nay. Lancelot had great faith in his own ability to look after himself. And it would dent his pride if he capitulated and agreed to take companions now. So, she would do the best next best thing.

She’d follow them.

Chapter Twenty-Two