Page 78 of Raven's Rise
Rage only shook his head. “Won’t help against an archer. Or if one of them slips past and kills Angelet while I fight the others.”
“There must be a safe place around here. A place that would protect a lady. Someplace the others can’t get in.”
Rafe took a breath. As Goswin spoke, the image of the right place came to him. And the road to get there was the one he’d just refused to travel down.
“Jesu,” he muttered. What a trick of fate. The only place Angelet would be safe was the one place he couldn’t dare go.
“Sir Rafe?” the boy asked. “What is it?”
Rafe wanted to strike out in frustration, but there was no enemy about…only his own past folly. “God hates me,” he said. “It’s the only explanation.”
“Sir?”
“All right, Goswin. There’s a place we can go. It will be a vicious hard ride to get there, but both you and she will be safe once we arrive.”
“What about you, Sir Rafe?”
“No time to explain.”
So they rode. Rafe knew every turn and every stretch of road. Even though he avoided the whole shire for years, it was where he grew up, and the landmarks remained anchored in his soul. The hunched back of Waterstone Clee to the east, the twist of the river that would join the Severn miles downstream, the massive trunk of a lightning-stuck oak tree at the crossroads north of Bournham, the little village closest to the manor of Cleobury. They were all there, and guided Rafe as he rushed toward the one place he didn’t want to see.
But he had no choice. Rafe held Angelet on the saddle in front of him. The rough binding over her wound was already splotched with red. More disturbing than the physical injury, though, was her unresponsive state. Her eyes often opened, but she seemed to see nothing, hear nothing.
Before Rafe was ready to confront it, they reached the shadow of Cleobury. Rafe pulled his too-tired horse to a stop, then pulled his hood over his head.
“Goswin,” he said. “This is Cleobury. You’re going to have to speak for Angelet.”
“Me? Why not you?” the boy asked, taking in the scene. The manor looked to be in an excellent state, with freshly ploughed fields surrounding the walls, and quite a few people moving about. Any one of them could recognize Rafe.
“I won’t be welcome here, boy,” he muttered. “I can’t explain now. When we reach the main gate there, just ask for Lady Cecily. Tell the guards that Angelet needs her care.”
Taking a deep breath, Rafe kicked his horse back into movement. Goswin followed on his pony. When they neared the gate, Rafe slowed again, this time out of caution. Cleobury was a fortified manor, after all, and the men on watch were trained to be wary of strangers.
One guard shouted down for them to state their business.
“Hallo! Hallooo?” Goswin shouted up toward the tower. “Help! Please let us in. We’ve a lady with us who needs care!”
A moment later, the wicket gate opened, and two guards came out.
Rafe kept his head lowered. “Keep chattering, Goswin. And no matter what happens,don’tsay my name.”
“Friends!” Goswin said. “We seek a Lady Cecily! This woman was hurt on the road, and needs aid!”
Rafe still held Angelet in his arms, and when a guard approached, he slowly lowered her prone body down to the other man, though he hated the idea of giving her up to any man. Luckily, the guard’s attention was riveted on her face, pale and unconscious. Rafe’s plain cloak and hood made him almost invisible, at least for the moment.
“Dear Lord,” the guard said. “Is she breathing?”
“She’s alive, but she was struck by a bolt!” Goswin said, leaping down from his pony. The concern in his voice was very real. “Please get her inside!” He rushed to help the guard who was now holding Angelet.
“Send for Lady Cecily,” the guard told his companion. He glanced back at Rafe, but didn't seem to recognize him, or even look at him very hard. “You can take the horses to the stable,” he instructed, already dismissing Rafe from his mind.
The guard and Goswin went ahead of Rafe, who deliberately hung back, using the horses as a shield from unfriendly eyes. However, all the focus was on Angelet as they passed through the gatehouse and into the courtyard.
“What has happened?” a voice called out.
Rafe looked over to see a woman striding out of the great manor house, and was hit with an overpowering sense of regret. Yes, it was Cecily, that same person he first met as a child, and one of the people he’d betrayed.
At the moment, she looked as though she might have been roused out of sleep. She took in the spectacle of Angelet and instinctively pushed back the sleeves of her gown, already preparing to do whatever needed to be done. “Who is this woman?”
