Page 81 of Peregrine's Call
Then a voice boomed out, “What the hell is going on?”
A nearby guard said, “Sir! These…people. They just rode up like the devil was chasing them. Demanded to speak to you.”
“Let me through!”
All of a sudden, Robin was looking into the handsome face of a knight with long, dark hair.
“Robin?” he asked in disbelief.
Relief rushed through her, and she grabbed his arms. “Rafe! Tav was with us, but he stayed at the bridge to hold them off. You have to go help him! Please, there’s no time.”
“When did this happen?” he asked. “Who’s chasing you? How many?”
“It doesn’t matter!” she said, shaking. “Just go, for God’s sake. Just take as many men as you can and get to him!” She gulped huge breaths of air, her limbs sagging with exhaustion.
Rafe straightened up. “Someone get her into the keep and call for my wife. And get this man in there as well. Simon! We’re going to the bridge. Twenty riders, armed for a raid. Let’smove!”
The last word spurred a flurry of action, but Robin was on her knees and saw nothing more than a dozen pairs of boots running in all directions. Then Pierce was kneeling next to her, pulling her to her feet. “Come on, Robin. Up. You need to get inside. There’s nothing more you can do.”
“I hate you,” she whispered. “He’s going to die so you can live, and there’s no secret message to the king worth that. Ihateyou.”
Chapter 29
“Who’s that?” Pierce asked.
Robin looked up as a woman emerged from the keep. Lady Angelet’s hair was the lightest shade of blonde, and everything about her, from the way she moved to her leaf-green eyes, hinted at something otherworldly.
When she saw Robin, those eyes widened in surprise. “Dear child, what are you doing here?”
“We were outrunning a force of men afterhim.” Robin pointed to Pierce. “Octavian made us go ahead so he could hold them off, and…”
“Be calm, Robin,” Angelet said, reaching to take Robin’s hands in her own. “Everything that can be done will be done. You are safe here, just as he wanted—wants—you to be.”
Robin swallowed, her throat gone dry. She swayed on her feet, and Angelet signaled two maids to assist Robin inside.
Pierce stepped forward. “I regret we couldn’t give your household any warning before our arrival. I am Lord Pierce of Malvern.”
Angelet curtseyed politely to Pierce. “And I am Angelet. Malvern, you said? The name is slightly familiar to me. It’s well north of here, is it not?”
“True, my lady,” Pierce said, his eyes taking in the appearance of Angelet with some of his old calculation. “Please forgive our intrusion. You can’t get many visitors here.”
“The Marches can be lonely,” said Angelet, her tone mild and agreeable—which reflected her personality. “But Martenkeep is lively enough, especially with all the young lads here for training. Several families have sent sons here to be fostered, knowing my husband’s reputation as a swordsman.”
“And what is his name again? I missed it in the chaos.”
“Sir Raphael Corviser,” she replied proudly.
Robin kept her eyes on Pierce, but saw no hint of recognition. He’d realize who Rafe was once he saw him for more than an instant—the man left an impression on nearly everyone—but by then the gates would be closed and Pierce would have no choice but to accept he was confined until he revealed the information he claimed to have.
“We are grateful for the hospitality, my lady,” Pierce said. “We’ve been forced to travel for quite a while under less than desirable conditions.”
Angelet said, “From the looks of you both, and the speed of your arrival, that seems an understatement. But the story can wait till you both have rested.” She turned to Robin. “Come with me, dear. I will see to you personally. My lord, you will be quite comfortable in the care of my seneschal.”
Pierce nodded, once again in his element as a guest in a well-run castle.
Angelet took Robin by the hand and led her toward the upper part of the keep, where the master bedchamber occupied a whole floor. Once there, Robin sighed in relief. Walls. A bed. Water in a pitcher. Fire in the fireplace. No enemies chasing her.
She sagged down onto the edge of the bed.
