Chapter 2
The sound of hoof beats in the distance jolted Jace from his silent reverie, and with the span of a few breaths the carriage came to life.
"Milord, orders?" Philippe handed the reins to Ralon and made his way to the carriages exterior, there were two horses picketed at the rear for just this purpose.
"Go ahead then, scout out fifteen miles, I will stay with my ladies." Lord Jace drew his blade and looked up at the ladies in question.
Maureen had exchanged her jerkin for a wide, white burnoose, and she had tied the hood over her head, covering her brown locks from view. With her smooth skin, delicate features, and slight build she would pass for a boy, her sword hung free against her waist beneath the thin fabric, easy access, should she require it. Her mouth was set in resignation against the threat that would possibly come, she was not afraid, but nor was she a killer.
In sharp contrast to Lady Maureen, Catherine stood upon the carriage roof in what could only be described as anxious anticipation. Two swords lay well within her reach, and unlike Maureen, her chocolate eyes blazed with a fierce light. Jace had no doubts as to her ability to kill, she, unlike himself, had chosen this lifestyle.
Philippe chose that moment to ride back at a gallop, the withers of his black gelding trembled, sweat-soaked with exertion.
"Milord! Milord! There are four men, all mounted, and approaching at due north. Also, there are four on foot approaching from the forest, all appear to be armed and in full mail. This is no hunting party."
Unfortunately, it seemed that Jace was out of time.
"Catherine, get in the carriage, we won't fight unless we have to. Maureen, drag her in if you must, but keep her there. I will speak to them before we take further action."
With a mutter about brothers who presumed too much for their own good Maureen cajoled Catherine back through the window.
"Our time will come to fight," she whispered into Cat's ear, "and when it does," her mouth twisted into a wicked grin, "we'll make our enemies regret it." For the moment Catherine was pacified, as the statement was a bit out of character for the mild mannered Maureen. But she was most certainly not happy about her confinement.
Outside the carriage Jace readied himself for battle. He had three men against eight armed soldiers, and he'd be damned before he'd let his ladies fight. They would be the last resort, his secret weapon.
The first rider approached with just enough time for the men to gather their scattered thoughts.
"Good day sir," Lord Jace called out in greeting, "what brings you through these woods?" The man removed his helmet and shook out his tangled ebony curls.
"The name is Sir Keene of Eldorne, my men and I are hunting Scanran traitor's, have you seen any pass this direction?" The big man rested his hand atop the head of his sword, and let his mouth furl into a feral grin.
"I am Lord Jason of Tieren, and my sister and I are merely passing through in hopes of reaching the Midsummer's festival by nightfall. We have been traveling for hours and have seen no Scanran dogs in these parts. Perhaps you were given faulty directions." Jace could not keep his hand from twitching toward his sheathed blade, oh how he would enjoy running this man through.
"A sister, you say? Are you not Duke Aaron's son then? My Lord speaks very highly of you in court." Riding over, Sir Keene offered a hand for Jace to shake. Although his tone and handshake portrayed no sign of dislike, his raised eyebrow gave way to the idea that perhaps he did not share his Lord's high opinions of the man in question.
Very well, Jace thought to himself, two can play this game. Trying not to let his glance linger on the way Sir Keene's sculpted cheekbones accentuated his full lips, Jace felt a stirring of distrust beneath his defenses.
"Thank you sir," he replied with an easy grin, "I will bear the complement to my Aunt, the Lady Adrianna." Jace could not resist tossing back the locks which adorned his own forehead; an act which he knew drove both lads and lasses wild with desire.
"Yes, yes of course," answered the knight flapping his hand in dismissal. "Such a pity what happened to your parents, wasn't it?" Jace clenched his teeth, wincing at the acrid taste of blood flooding over his gums. He had bitten his tongue. But Sir Keene was not yet done, "I just do not see how such a tragedy could have occurred while they were still on Tortallan soil. And yet, after all, your father was a bit overindulgent with his servants. Perhaps if he had been a bit more firm with them than they would still be alive."
As if the slur against his father was not enough, the talk of his parent's untimely death's had Jace's blood boiling. Who did this pompous jerk think he was?
A yelp of outrage emerged from inside the carriage. Apparently he had not been the only one to take offense.
"Hush up Cat," whispered Lady Maureen, folding a delicate hand across the open mouth of her friend, "do you want this asshole to realize that we have picked up another travel companion?" Muttering through the glove blocking her expletives Catherine bit down. Hard.
"Ow!!" yelped Maureen angrily, "what was that for?" The two women glared at each other sullenly.
Ignoring the sounds from the carriage he forced himself to provide a good-natured laugh. "Well, it is true, my father was not a man who believed in the whip. Perhaps if he had he would still be alive."
Sir Keene laughed and slapped him on the back with a grin, "Good man, now let's have a look at that sister of yours." Jace clenched his hands into fists as he rode after him to the carriage door, but he had no choice but to follow.
The carriage window opened before Sir Keene had the opportunity to announce himself.
"I, am Lady Maureen of Tieren," the woman in question announced loftily, while offering him her hand to kiss. "And if you are so inclined to talk of my father in such a way again I will be forced to challenge you to a duel."
He laughed, and patted her head like a child, not seeing the way her eyes had darkened to an icy gray. He didn't bother to address her words any further.
"Jace, my friend, do not indulge your sister so, it seems she has adopted the ideals of your mother. I hope all the women in this realm do not think themselves to become that poor excuse of a Lioness. It should be a man that wears the title of Kings Champion!"
If he did not know better, Jace would have thought that he had just heard Catherine growl in anger. A nearly imperceptible shake of his head warned her to keep her temper in check. They simply could not afford revenge.
"Well, just try to ensure that she does not turn out like your mother, poor bitch couldn't keep her legs together--"
The pitiable fool obviously didn't know when to stop talking. Seconds after his utterance the air quality plunged from warm to freezing, yet the drop in temperature was no match for the coldness of steel against the flesh of Sir Keene's throat.
He managed a weak laugh before Jace's sword bit into the large vein of his neck. "Guess you don't agree--" his lips shook with the effort not to cry.
"Shut up you arrogant fool!" Jace trembled with rage as his sword split the flesh of the knight's skin like butter. "How dare you speak of my family in that way," speckles of spit coated Sir Keene's face, "you are out of line to address my sister so, she is a lady and you owe her an apology."
Sir Keene shuddered as he felt the blood slip down his face and his features contorted in mocking anger.
"My Lord!" One of his men tried to rush Jace from behind, but as he increased the pressure of his blade, a raised hand from Sir Keene stopped any other attempts of aid.
Eyes burning with rage and humiliation Sir Keene mumbled an apology to Lady Maureen, and glared at Jace in fury.
"That will suffice for now, but if you ever again say another word against my mother, my sister, or my family, you will find that you will suddenly become well acquainted with the tip of my sword." He turned the point slightly causing the knight to emit a gasp of pain, "do we understand each other?"
"Perfectly," Sir Keene replied, wrenching himself from Jace's grasp. "Come men, we are no longer welcome here, let us continue our hunt elsewhere." He wheeled his horse in the opposite direction and saluted Jace with a mocking grin. "Until we meet again, my friend."
It was not until they could no longer see the five riders that Jace allowed himself to clean his sword. It would be a few miles before that face would leave his mind. If only he could have gutted that bastard and saved himself the trouble which he was sure was only yet to come.
The clang of metal was audible from within the carriage. Oh fabulous, he thought with an inward grimace, time to face the music. Perhaps Sir Keene had had something about women after all…
