Candace C. Bowen - A Knight Series 01 Read Online Free Page B

Sibilla’s comments, he deemed the elder sister to be a fallen
woman.   If that were the case, he could
not very well hold it against her.   It
would make him no better than a lowly charlatan.      
    The fact that his men were privy to the latest turn of events worsened his
already dark mood. Well into their cups from the free-flowing ale, Gervase and
Guy spoke in animated tones, no doubt making plans to pursue Warin’s older
sister.   Barely perceiving Albin’s low
disheartened sigh had him fighting the urge to stalk from the hall in
disappointment.
    As Sibilla leaned into him, plying him with endless questions about the
latest court fashions, something he knew absolutely nothing about, he recalled
the fiery spirit displayed by her sister.   When she grew bold enough to place a pudgy hand on his sleeve, he
remembered the slender grace of another’s, even as they waved in anger.
    A cold breeze swept the hall as the heavy ironbound oak door swung
open, drawing him from his recollections.    
    The elder woman Warin spoke to earlier rushed across the hall. Lost to
her own musings, she failed to notice him.
    Gripping the front of her coarse, brown woolen kirtle, she hastened up
the steps.
    Standing, he followed her flight along the upper arched passage until
he lost her to view. After a light rapping sound, he detected low
conversation.  
    To the sound of returning footsteps, he retreated to the shadows with a
smile. At last, he would have his answers.
    Descending the steps, he heard panic in the woman’s voice as she
whispered anxiously, “I tell you Master Warin, she refused to even look at me.
When Rolfe did not recognize Eddiva, she snatched him up, taking to the woods
with naught but the moon to guide her.”
    Swinging his cloak around his shoulders, Warin spotted Fulke as he
stepped into the light.    
    Warin placed a comforting hand on the woman’s shoulder as she inhaled
sharply. “I apologize if we disturbed you, my liege.”
    “What seems to be the trouble, lad?”  
    “With your permission, Hylda cares for my sister and has summoned me to
stop her.”
    Suspicion narrowed Fulke’s brows. “Stop her from doing what, exactly?”
    Hylda blurted, “My mistress brought a small boy with a fever to the
stream.   She has him in the water, your
lordship.”   Her eyes sparkled with tears
in the dim light.   “The water is nigh to
freezing.   Please let master Warin come,
he is the only one that can make her see reason.”
    By the Saints, Fulke swore to himself. The lad’s sister must be daft.
    Without pausing for his cloak, he headed for the door.   “Lead me to my horse.”
    Hylda reached the base of the hill on foot by the time he and Warin
rode from the stables.  
    A sense of urgency gripped him as he rode slightly behind Warin.   The woods, dense with ancient yew and lofty
oaks ran at the base of the hill for as far as the eye could see.   Even by the light of the full moon, it was
dark by the tree line where Hylda waited.    
    Catching her breath, she called, “We must make haste, Master Warin.”
    Reaching for Fulke’s reins, he secured both horses to a tree bough. His
breath steaming in the cold night air, he called over his shoulder, “Stay close
my liege, the woods are thick until closer to the stream.”
    Picking through the heavy underbrush, Fulke followed Warin into the
near blackness, holding aside branches to keep them from snapping back at Hylda
as they made their way forward.
    “We are almost there, my liege,” Warin called from somewhere up ahead.
    Stumbling onward, the dark gradually gave way to moonlight spilling
across a small copse with a wide stream cutting through it.
    Reaching the banked slope, Fulke stood mesmerized by the scene before
him.   In the light of the moon, Warin’s
sister stood waist-high in the freezing water.   Clad only in a thin linen chemise, she lovingly cradled a small child in
her arms.   Rocking him, she smoothed the
boy’s wet