Page 99 of Peregrine's Call
“Time to ride on,” she said as she untied the rope at his ankles.
“How can I ride if my hands are bound?” he complained as he struggled awkwardly to a standing position.
“You’ll manage. Follow me, my lord.”
She readied the two horses, strapping Govannon’s basket to one. Pierce’s hadn’t gone lame, it just had got a stone wedged into a hoof, which she managed to get out.
She then had to help Pierce mount up, practically shoving him into the saddle, him cursing all the while. They rode eastward along the paths that Robin knew well. She kept her bow handy, just in case Ranulf or Estmar or anyone with them happened to cross their path. But Robin thought it unlikely since they were getting closer and closer to a more populated and well patrolled part of the country.
It was an uneventful journey, until late in the day. The sound of hoofbeats behind her made Robin turn in her saddle. It was difficult to see in the fading light, but two figures were emerging from the trees to the west. Robin already knew one of them was Octavian. The other figure, dressed in black and riding a black horse, had to be Rafe.
She waited until the men caught up to her and Pierce.
Rafe said with his usual sardonic laugh, “We came to save you, Robin.”
“Oh? Well, thank you. I don’t know what I would have done without your assistance.” She glanced at Pierce. “His hands are bound and I’ve got his weapons, so you can see I’ve managed fairly well so far.”
Tav just looked between her and Pierce as if they were hiding something. “We found you both missing this morning, after learning that the gatehouse guards had mysteriously fallen asleep on watch.” Tav looked at her as he said it.
But Robin turned to examine Pierce. “You got into Martenkeep’s medicine chest, didn’t you?”
The lord smirked at her. “A little poppy syrup dropped into the ale served with their evening meal…all I needed for a quiet escape.”
“How’s Acer?” Robin asked, remembering the boy being barely conscious on the floor of the stable.
“Acer?” Rafe echoed. “Why?”
“Because Pierce knocked him out when he tried to stop him from leaving, I suspect.”
“As far as I know, Acer is perfectly well, and he didn’t say a word about either Pierce or you leaving.” Rafe gave her a searching look. “It was a little unclear whether you left together or if one followed the other.”
Pierce chuckled. “Yes, Sir Rafe. Robin finally succumbed to my charms and agreed to run away with me.”
“Shut up,” Robin hissed. “Pierce left Martenkeep in secret, and I chased him down.”
“You could have told someone,” Tav noted quietly.
“It was late and there wasn’t time,” Robin said, knowing it wasn’t entirely true. She wanted to catch Pierce on her own, to show that she needed no one’s help to accomplish what she needed to do. “And anyway, he’s bound and he’s going where I’m taking him.”
“Where are you taking him?”
“Cleobury.”
When she said the name, Tav glanced at Pierce to get his reaction, but before he could say anything, Robin went on, “He knows who I am. And in truth, it no longer matters.”
Tav looked unsure of that, but didn’t protest. “If you say he ought to go to Cleobury, then we’ll get him there.”
“Looking forward to wandering through Lady Cecily’s gardens,” Pierce said, his tone smug. “Perhaps I’ll pick a few late-blooming roses.”
Robin shook her head. The man was half-mad. There would be nothing in the gardens for him now.
The rest of the journey went more easily for Robin, now that she had two other people who could help keep an eye on Pierce. Thankfully, both Rafe and Tav were better supplied than she was, so food wasn’t a concern. Tav even brought out some cheese, which made her mouth water.
She wished he didn’t pay so much attention to her. Robin didn’t want to talk to Tav, even though she couldn’t seem to look away from him. Every time she thought she was getting him out of her mind, she’d realize she was contemplating the curve of his shoulder, or the proud way he rode, or the depth of his eyes…which was the most mortifying, because it meant he’d caught her staring.
Robin couldn’t wait to see the gates of Cleobury, despite the agony of not knowing what awaited her inside. She caught sight of them just as the last light glimmered in the west. Torches on either side of the gates blazed brightly, signaling to any travelers or locals in need that warmth and protection lay within.
Everyone quickened their pace, and even the horses perked up, sensing the end of the journey.
