Page 299 of The Daughters of Avalon
As though to add insult to injury, the skies parted about midmorn, pouring down over the troops—a wet, cold deluge that dampened the spirits as surely it did the infantry, and even hope itself.
But this was no time for weakness in spirit.
No time for despair.
Every able-bodied warrior was conscripted to ride, andonce the sisters were ready, they moved together to the head of the line, preparing to lead their warriors into battle.
Taking his cues from Rosalynde, Warkworth’s seneschal rode to the helm. Loyal to his lord and lady, Edmund cried out to the gatekeeper. “Gates!” To his troops, he said, “Prepare to ride!” And then, if only because he insisted, he rode ahead of his mistresses to secure the way.
“Art ready?” asked Rosalynde of Elspeth as Edmund passed them by.
Elspeth nodded, and then both sisters looked to their Regnant—wholly transformed by her recent consecration.
White hair flowing at her back, face and skin radiant as a pearl, lips red as an apple, and cheeks rosy with color, Seren Pendragon moved to ride directly behind Edmund, with the sword Excalibur in her belt, and a small, bent crow riding atop her shoulder.
Their destination: Amdel.
Chapter
Twenty-Two
First, they discovered the riderless horse.
Then, traveling in the direction from whence the horse had come, they happened upon a man’s body lying next to a brook. Caught unawares with his breeches down, there was a bloody hole between the man’s eyes where a sharp blade had once rested. The wound was deep, penetrating the skull, and to inflict such a wound, the assassin must have been very, very close, or very, very precise and skilled.
Since it didn’t appear there was any sort of scuffle, Giles presumed the latter.
He knew only one woman who could wield a knife with such deadly precision: Marcella le Fae. But, if, indeed, she had passed this way with her charge, then everything was going according to plan and he must let them go. The sooner they found Eustace and returned him to his father, the sooner they could return home.
At his back, Wilhelm busied himself inspecting the boot and hoof prints surrounding the carcass. “These tracks are fresher than the rest,” he said.
“Boot or hoof?”
“Both.”
“How many?”
“One man, I believe. No less than fifteen stone, riding a courser, so it appears.”
Thatwas not Marcella. She was tall for a woman, not heavy. “Fresher than the rest, you say?”
“Aye,” said Wilhelm. “’Tis as though he came lately and stopped to investigate.”
“Same direction as the rest?”
“Aye,” said Wilhelm, again.
“This one’s a King’s man,” said Giles, examining the livery of the dead man. He wore Stephen’s standard on the front of his gambeson. However, nothing on the horse they’d found, nor on the corpse had been pilfered, even so near to Darkwood. In fact, the horse’s satchel still contained all his travel supplies and there was a small gold purse, filled with coppers, tied to his belt.
It was only by a stroke of luck they’d encountered the horse, standing beneath the shade of a tree, so they’d first thought, waiting for its master to return for it. It was a good-sized destrier of the sort normally conscripted for the King’s army, and thinking it might be Eustace, Giles had put Wilhelm in charge of tracking. His brother could scout better than any man Giles had ever encountered, and for the most part, he trusted Wilhelm’s instincts without fail. When they’d spied the vultures circling over this woodlot, they knew they’d found their man.
“How long do you suppose he’s been dead?”
“Half the day, no more.” Giles had seen more than his share of dead bodies to know. “How many traveling altogether?” he asked his brother.
Wilhelm shrugged. “Looks like four, mayhap, not including the dead man.” He hitched a thumb at the corpse. “Appears to be three women traveling together, else three young men. The one following behind is more than twice their size and weight.”
“Hmm,” said Giles.
