The Loyal Heart Part 1

The Loyal Heart.

By Merry Farmer.

Acknowledgements.

Many thanks to my wonderful editor, Alison Janssen, for her help and advice and for telling me everything I did wrong while still making me feel good about myself and my writing. Thanks also to my dear friend, Jonathan Longstaff, for creating a gorgeous cover design and driving home the notion that this is all very real! Special thanks to my critique partners, Julie Tague and Jes Bunsick for second opinions, and to my go-to beta-reader, Aline Brown for getting as excited about these characters as I am.

Very special thanks to my best friend, Kristine Medley, for her unfailing support and encouragement in all things, for reading the ugly early drafts of everything I write and giving me an honest opinion (really honest sometimes), and for believing that I'm going to be famous. I love you!

For Mom.

You always told me to dream my dreams and reach for the stars.

I did. I always will.

Chapter One.

Derbyshire, 1191.

Aubrey knew she was in trouble the moment the carriage hit a rut. Her gloved hands fumbled the heavy pouch of coins as she tied it to her belt beside the others. She was thrown hard against the strongbox whose lock she'd picked. The thick chausses she wore did nothing to keep her shins from being bruised. The jangle of the coins around her waist and the clatter of her sword as it fell from her belt destroyed all hope she had of going undetected.

"Stop the cart!"

She sucked in a breath through the disguise that hit the bottom half of her face at the command. Dammit, it wasn't worth the risk to bring a smile to Geoffrey's face if she got caught. Even if those smiles were rare since he'd come home from the Holy Land. The carriage lumbered to a stop. She thought fast, blue-green eyes searching the closed wooden walls for a way out.

"You and you," the deep voice barked orders, "Swords at the ready."

A grin split Aubrey's face under her mask. Sir Crispin of Huntingdon. His voice sent a shiver down her spine each time she heard it. A shiver of defiance. Maybe this time she would finally get her chance to best him. Her brother had warned her against messing with Crispin, but Geoffrey shouldn't be the only one allowed to cross swords with the enemy when given half a chance.

She pushed away from the side of the carriage, reaching for her sword. As she did the pouch in her hand snagged on a loose nail. Coins showered around her, drumming on the floor. b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l. She held her breath, dropping to a battle-ready stance. There was only one way out of this mess. Sword clutched in her fist, she jumped for the canvas flap at the back of the carriage.

She shot out into the night and landed in a low crouch less than ten feet from where Sir Crispin had walked his horse to investigate. The horse reared the instant it saw her and Crispin's eyes grew wide in surprise before narrowing into a scowl of recognition. "You!" he seethed, dropping the torch he held and grasping for his sword.

The guards were faster. They had already dismounted and rushed to confront her. Instinct took over. Aubrey swung her sword up and sliced at the guard who reached her a fraction faster than his mate. He stumbled to the side. She spun and landed a second blow on the slower guard's right shoulder. The unexpected sting made him drop his sword. She took advantage of his weakness and kicked him in the gut. G.o.d bless Geoffrey for teaching her like the little brother he never had.

Adrenaline poured through her as she grinned and twirled to face the first guard again. He swung but she parried the blow, brought her sword around and slashed. He defended. She attacked again, aiming low. The blow smacked into his thigh with a chunk, drawing blood. She yanked her sword up, taking a piece out of his leg, then swiveled her hands so that she could bring the b.u.t.t of her sword up into his helmeted face when he grabbed his wound. The poor man toppled over.

Aubrey's senses were alive and she felt the second guard coming at her before she turned and saw him charging, sword pointed to thrust at her heart. She dodged in time to bat his weapon away and spun as he lunged past her. She followed the force of her momentum to land a slicing blow to his back. The guard's mail prevented any real damage, but he tumbled and sprawled to the ground. She went after him while he was recovering and landed a crushing blow to his helmet. The shock reverberate up her arms, rattling her teeth, but the attack had had its desired effect. The guard crumpled to the ground like a used rag.

"Impressive." Sir Crispin's resonant voice swung her to face him, sword at the ready. Her heart hammered in her chest and she grinned under her mask, eyes sparkling. He towered over her, cloak black as coal. "But then I always knew you could fight." He narrowed his shocking blue eyes at her, trying to see past the mask. His pale face stood out in the night. He twisted his sword once in a circle. It was the dagger in his belt, a long blade, handle capped with a silver wolf's head with sapphire eyes, that caught her attention and made her heart pound. He dropped into a crouch to match hers as they circled each other. Aubrey battled to keep from laughing as Crispin lunged at her.

She gasped at the strength behind his blow and had to concentrate to deflect it. A thread of panic poked its way into her exhilaration. If she'd wanted a challenge, here it was. She pivoted and dodged his second attack before slicing at his right side. His sword met hers with a spark and she nearly lost her grip. She wanted him to look her in the eye but his focus was absolute. He twirled his sword in an arc and thrust at her from the right. She was only able to deflect the blow this time by twisting to the left and using his force against him. He pushed right past her. She pounded the b.u.t.t of her sword into his back. He grunted in pain but recovered to face her.

"Only a coward attacks caravans in the night in a mask, Bandit," he growled. She answered by slashing the air between them. "What? No words to defend yourself?" She bit her lip to keep from snapping a reply. "No, the Derbywood Bandit never makes a sound. Let's see if you squeal while you're dying!" He lunged at her again.

Panic mingled with pleasure as she jumped to avoid his attack, turning and hitting him across his lower back with the flat of her blade as he pa.s.sed. Her limbs sung with life and energy. She would not admit he could best her even though she could feel her breath coming in painful gasps as her taxed body neared its limit. He turned back for more, eyes dark. She took the offensive, muscles throbbing, and thrust at his chest. He parried the blow and swung his sword to slash at her. She countered by instinct alone, fast if not strong, and deflected his blow, circling him to attack his left side. He struck her sword away with a spark and swept close to bring his blade down on her, using his height to his advantage. She raised her sword in the nick of time, holding it with both hands as his blade clanged against hers.

The force of the blow sank her to her knees. He pivoted to strike again and it was all she could do not to be hammered into the ground or to cry out as her arms trembled under his attack. She saw in his fierce eyes that he knew she was failing. He wouldn't show mercy. It wasn't a game anymore. She lost her grin as he planted a heavy boot against her ribs and kicked her over.

She fell backwards with a violent crash. Her sword flew out of her hand as she hit the ground. It landed several feet away. She scuttled towards it but he pursued her, stomping on the bit of cloak between her legs to jerk her to a stop. He sheathed his sword and drew the wolf-head dagger from his belt.

"Now," he snarled, crouching between her spread legs and bringing the tip of the dagger to the side of her face. "Let's see who you really are." His gaze was curious, angry, triumphant. Then his eyes narrowed with curiosity. "Those eyes. I know those eyes." She squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed, ready to have her throat slit. She could feel the cold steel of his dagger caressing its way up to her chin. He dipped closer. His breath warmed the air above her. If she unmasked herself maybe he wouldn't kill her. Maybe.

She reached a shaking hand to her scarf.

In the blink of an eye his arm jerked away as a rock smashed into his shoulder. Crispin cried out as he stood, clamping a hand to his bruise. Aubrey scrambled for her sword, wondering how Geoffrey could have run so far so fast in his state. She leapt to her feet as another stone flew out of the darkness and smashed Crispin in the face. He bellowed and scanned the darkness for his attacker.

"Looking for someone?"

The voice that called out of the dark stopped Aubrey's heart. It couldn't be. Seconds later a man bounded down from the wooded ridge beside the road, sword drawn and threatening. Even in the dark Aubrey could make out his sun-kissed blond head and rakish grin. He was older now, a little worn, but he was most definitely still Ethan of Windale. Her heart pounded as if it would leap from her chest and her legs went watery.

"Get out of the way, this does not concern you!" Crispin ordered, switching his dagger to his left hand and drawing his sword with his right.

"Oh, I think it does concern me when people are attacked on the road in the dark." Ethan advanced, sword battle-ready.

"I was the one who was attacked!" Crispin stared fire at the man who dared come between him and his prey. As he stepped closer, his eyes hardened with recognition.

"It didn't look that way to me." Ethan squared his shoulders. His glance flickered to Aubrey who stood tense between them. He jerked his head to the trees, telling her to go. Aubrey bristled. She would not be told to leave, not when things were getting interesting.

"The Derbywood Bandit is a menace." Crispin lowered his sword as he realized who faced him. "He's been waylaying travelers in the forest for years while you've been playing soldier for the king."

"Oh he has, has he?" Ethan's grin sparkled in the night as he cast a glance in Aubrey's direction. "Interesting."

"Buxton has issued a warrant for his arrest."

Ethan's grin melted to fierce hatred. Aubrey backed away as he raised his sword and pointed it square at Crispin's chest. She knew exactly what Ethan thought of Lord Alfred of Buxton and even more what he thought of Crispin. She wasn't about to get in the middle of it. The coins tied to her belt reminded her that her mission was complete. Geoffrey was waiting. She scurried up the slope by the side of the road and hid in the shadows.

"You have no authority here, Windale." Crispin lowered his sword, vicious smirk matching the shadows of the night.

"My authority extends to the north end of the Derby road in the forest, Huntingdon." Ethan crossed his arms.

"You think so?" Crispin's smirk widened. "You haven't heard?"

"You're on my property and I want you off." He ignored Crispin's pitiless taunt and glanced around for Aubrey. "Your prey got away."

Crispin's expression dropped. He searched the shadowy tree line. Aubrey ducked further out of sight. "Guards!" he shouted, "Go after him!" He turned his back on Ethan only to find his men groaning and nursing their wounds.

"Bad luck, Huntington," Ethan grinned.

"This is not over, Bandit!" Crispin shouted to the treetops before striding over to help one of the groaning guards to his feet.

Aubrey's heart thrummed in her chest as she stared at Ethan. He was there, right in front of her, home. Her brother's friend had haunted her dreams since she was a girl. But then he'd left. Just like that.

She backed further into the forest, retreating up the road to where Geoffrey waited. Ethan was the one who convinced Geoffrey to run off and join King Richard's crusade. She'd thought they were heroes. Her heart still did, but her head had seen the consequences of war and abandonment.

Every few steps she glanced over her shoulder to see if he would follow. When she was almost out of sight of the road he walked through the trees, eyes bright and mischievous.

"Lady Aubrey of Morley." He crossed his arms and rested his weight on one hip. "What in blazes do you think you're doing?"

She pushed her hood back, loose tendrils of hair spilling across her face, and pulled the scarf hiding her small, round mouth down. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Getting yourself killed?" He tilted his head, eyes flashing.

"What, that? Psht!" She brushed off the near miss with Crispin. "That was nothing."

He laughed. Her stomach fluttered. "You're as reckless as your brother."

"Why thank you."

"It wasn't a compliment."

"My lord! My lord!" a call plowed through the forest followed by enough noise and bustle to wake the dead. From the darkness to their left a reedy figure in a pilgrim's cloak jogged towards them carrying two packs on his back. He ran into every bush and stepped on every branch in his path, rushing on until he came to stop with a grunt in front of them. He bent over a st.i.tch in his side as he caught his breath.

"Toby." Ethan slapped him on the shoulder.

The gesture nearly knocked Toby over. He winced up at his master and clasped a hand over his heart. "Don't go running off on me like that! I don't know what I'd do if I lost you." Aubrey bit her lip to hide her laughter. Toby caught his breath in fits. His perpetually wide brown eyes turned from his erstwhile master to Aubrey. For a moment he screwed up his face, then he blinked and burst into a grin. "Lady Aubrey!" He worked his smiling jaw for a moment before blowing out a breath and trying to bow under the packs he carried. "What are you doing here?"

"Having an adventure." She arched an eyebrow.

Toby stared at the pouches on her belt and the sword in her hand, eyes and mouth wide. Ethan laughed and thumped his friend on the back again, hesitated, then thumped Aubrey as well. "I'm surprised that Geoff isn't out here causing mischief with you." He pushed them both to walk on. "Isn't that the way you two usually operate?" The grin on Aubrey's face vanished. He paused. "What?"

Aubrey walked for a few more paces before giving up and turning to him. "You haven't heard about Geoffrey then?"

He shrugged. "I know he was injured in Cyprus and sent home."

Aubrey put her hand on his forearm. "He was injured," she hesitated. "He ... he nearly died." Her words stop there and she glanced away. She couldn't tell the rest.

Ethan ran a hand through his hair as his cheery expression melted. "What happened?"

She nudged them to keep walking. "He's right over here waiting." She swallowed. "You'll ... you'll see."

Ethan sent her a wary glance. "What aren't you telling me?"

She couldn't bring herself to answer.

They walked on in silence. Aubrey's heart felt as heavy as the pouches of coins around her waist. In all her dreams she had never imagined her reunion with Ethan like this. She couldn't think of a thing to say.

He kept darting glances to her as they walked. "Do you need us to see you home?"

She opened her mouth to reply but Toby interrupted. "My lord, we should really be getting home to Windale." He squirmed as he spoke, heavy packs jostling against his sides, eyes pleading.

Ethan laughed. "Toby hasn't shut up about Windale since the day we left." He slapped his friend's back again and caused one of the packs to slip off his shoulder.

"I miss my sister's cooking," Toby brooded as he resettled his load.

Ethan's laugh echoed louder. "Do you mind if I get him home to his sister's cooking?"

Aubrey stopped again and rubbed her forehead where her mask chafed. "Ethan," she winced, "You need to come talk to Geoffrey first."

His shoulders tensed and the mirth in his eyes fizzled. "Why?"

She opened her mouth, hoping that something would come out, and when nothing did she sighed. "He's only a bit further. He'll be happy to see you. You have no idea."

She tried to walk on.

He grasped her arm, holding her still. "What's going on?"

She lowered her eyes to his hand on her arm. Through the cloth of her shirt her skin tingled. She took a few deep breaths to steady herself before raising her eyes to meet his. "Windale isn't yours anymore."

"It isn't ... what?" He dropped her arm and gaped.

"Look, Geoffrey will explain." She rushed on before he could protest. "Do you have horses? Should we go get them?"

"No." Ethan shook his head.

"Alright," she nodded, "Then don't just stand there looking daft. Come on." The two men watched as she marched past them. She squeezed her eyes shut before stopping and turning to face them. It was Toby's expression that broke her heart. "Toby?"

He glanced up at her, mouth pressed in a worried line. "My sister. Joanna. Is she ... is she still at Windale?"

"Yes, as far as I know she still is."

He inched forward as if he would say more, then thought better of it and closed his mouth. He started after her. Aubrey began walking again, glancing over her shoulder to Ethan. His frown was more set than ever, but he jogged to catch up with them.

When they reached the small clearing where Geoffrey waited Aubrey's heart dropped to her stomach. Her brother was sprawled at the base of a thick oak with a flask in his hand, his head drooped over his chest. His peg leg shot out at an odd angle to his whole leg. Ethan stopped dead at the sight.

"Geoffrey!" she forced cheer into her voice as she rushed to his side. "Victory, Geoffrey!" She rattled the purses at her belt as he shook himself and struggled to sit up straight. "And you'll never guess who I found."

"Who you found?" Geoffrey slurred. He muscled himself to stand, using the tree for support as Aubrey swiped the flask from his limp hand. His whole face lit up in surprise when he saw Ethan and Toby. "My G.o.d, Ethan!" He blinked and swayed, brushing his wrinkled tunic with sudden self-consciousness. Ethan shuffled towards him, his tumultuous expression speaking more than words ever could. Geoffrey fought the wave of color that made its way to his face, the shame and the joy.

"Geoff!" Ethan exclaimed, not looking at his friend's missing leg. He took Geoffrey in his arms, thumped him hard on the back and was pounded in return. "What a sight!" He released his friend and Aubrey swallowed as Ethan realized that if he let go Geoffrey would fall. He waited until the man had his balance before backing off. Aubrey glanced to Toby to avoid the pain in both men's faces. Toby watched his master with protective sorrow.

"Back from the war in one piece, eh?" Geoffrey teased, eyes dull and tired. "Lucky devil."

"Did you forget something in Cyprus?" Ethan joked in return.

Geoffrey's laughter was hollow. Aubrey escaped to her horse and shoved Geoffrey's half empty flask and the pouches of coins into her saddlebag. "Toby, do you want to put those packs on the horses?"

"No thank you, my lady," Toby answered with an impatient nod. "I'd like to find out what has happened to my sister." He frowned at Ethan.