“Nevermind,” Rebecca said looking past his shoulder at Ioan approaching the stable. “If you see Hereward, please tell him that I’m looking for him.” She swept past the carpenter without waiting for his reply and headed for the stable. She wanted to ask Ioan if he’d seen Hereward before he stepped inside.
Something about the way Ioan peered left and then right before he disappeared within the doors, troubled her. Slowing her pace when she reached the entrance, she pushed open a door and peeked inside. A horse snorted in its stall, but other than that, there was no sound coming from inside.
“Ioan?” she called out softly and entered. She left the door ajar behind her, allowing sunlight to puddle inside. “Ioan?” Louder this time.
At the far end of the stable, in an empty stall close to the last, Ioan’s head appeared just above the enclosure.
“A moment please, Rebecca.” He held up his palm to keep her from coming any closer.
A fist, too large to belong to anyone but her giant Saxon, swung with a bone-crushing echo.
Rebecca halted in her tracks, her mouth hanging agape as blood spurted from Ioan’s nose seconds before he crumbled, disappearing from her vision. She rushed forward and pushed the stall door open.
“Hereward!” She rushed to his side and helped him push Ioan off his chest.
With a muttered curse, Hereward sat up slowly. Droplets of blood from Ioan’s nose speckled Hereward’s tunic, but the crimson ribbon trickling from his forehead down to his jaw was his own.
“What happened?” Rebecca pulled a small napkin from a pocket in her gown and began wiping his wound. “Did Ioan do this to you?”
“Nay, ’twas Madoc.” His eyes, usually so gentle on her, burned with fury.
Rebecca fell back on her rump as if he had just pushed her. “Madoc?” Her face paled in the dimness of the stable. “Madoc did this to you?” When he nodded, her mind refused to believe it. “He couldn’t have. Why? Why would he harm you?”
“Woman, he did it,” Hereward growled. “He led me here and then struck me with something.” He rose to his feet pulling Rebecca up by the hand. He looked around the stable, toward the doors. “Whether or not he meant to kill me, I don’t know, but I want you and Tanon to stay inside the cottage and bolt the door until I figure out what is going on.”
“Hereward.” The fear in Rebecca’s voice dragged his gaze to her. “He…” her vocal chords stiffened up on her. Speaking it made it real, and the thought of never seeing Tanon again was too heavy a sorrow to bear. “Madoc has already taken Tanon away.”
*
“I think wemust be lost.” Tanon drew her lower lip between her teeth and looked around the wooded landscape. They’d been riding for over an hour with no sign of a field in sight.
“We’re not lost. We’ll be there shortly.”
“I didn’t realize it was so far.” Tanon let one hand go of the reins and rubbed her arm as a chill settled over her. “It will be getting dark by the time we head home. We should return now and come back another day.”
Madoc didn’t answer her. His eyes moved slowly, cautiously scanning the trees as if he were looking for something.
“Madoc?”
“Hush, Tanon.”
She looked around. A stab of fear twisted her insides. Did he sense something amiss? She wished Gareth were here. Or even Hereward. She shouldn’t have left without Hereward. The forest frightened her. Anyone could be lurking just behind a tree. Or in one. She was about to demand that they return, when she heard the approach of horses to her right. She whirled her mount around and choked on a harsh cry. A group of about twenty mounted men galloped toward her looking even more savage to her than Gareth and his men looked when she’d first seen them in the great hall.
“Madoc,” she breathed, her gaze fixed on the troupe coming closer. “We should run.” Without waiting for his consent, she kicked her mount’s flanks. Madoc grasped her reins and yanked her back.
“What…?”
“Keep silent!” Madoc commanded in a harsh whisper.
Tanon’s heart pounded so hard it made her feel ill. She pulled on her reins trying to free them from Madoc’s fist as the sound of the horses grew closer. “They look about to run us down! You cannot fight them all!” she argued with him, panic making her voice rise to a near screech. Madoc remained silent.
She watched, stricken with terror as the lead rider pulled to a halt directly in front of her. Something about him seemed so familiar when he raked his dark blue eyes over her. His slow grin sent an icy tremor along her spine.
He resembled Gareth. He was slightly older, with thick, arrow-straight chestnut hair tied at his nape. He circled her and Madoc while his men waited a few feet away.
“My, but you are lovely,” he said, reining in closer to her. He plucked her hand free from clenching her reins. When he pulled her knuckles to his mouth, Tanon noted that he was missing a finger. She turned her frightened gaze on Madoc, but he looked away.
“I’m Prince Cedric ab Owain,” the rider introduced himself, releasing her hand. “Your true husband.”