"But this one is pretty, Derek." A beefy face loomed in front of Leonie.

"What does that matter when we need the pay?"

"We can have both." A third voice spoke. "Your lord will have his fun with her, Derek, so why shouldn't we as well? We took the risk of snatching her. I want her before we turn her over to him."

"Agree, Derek, or we do not leave here," the second man threatened.

The moment was tense. The other two men waited for Derek to decide. And then the quiet was broken by another man who burst through the brush, running.

"Osgar," the new fellow whispered excitedly, "the guard died without making a sound! I did a good job!"

"Quiet your fool brother, Osgar," Derek hissed angrily. "I swear I do not know why I use him."

"Because he does your killing for you," Osgar said smoothly. "Nowwhat about the lady? Does she pleasure us first?"

"Yes, but not here," Derek agreed. "And it must be done quickly. It is a long reach to the castle and her men have horses while we do not."

"We should have killed them all," someone grumbled.

"There were too many, fool. Now let us hurry if we are to stop before we reach the castle."

Leonie was carried along at a near run. She felt numb at first. This could not be real, could it? But the numbness began to wear off as Osgar and the others resumed speaking while they hurried through the woods.

"Will the lady be tortured like the others, Osgar?"

"You talk too much," Osgar growled at his brother.

"Will she?"

"If she does not admit who she is and arrange to ransom herself, yes, she will be tortured."

"Derek watches, doesn't he?"

"Idiot! Derek does the torturing. It is his lord who likes to watch."

Derek laughed, overhearing. "Did you tell him how often you sneaked into the dungeon to watch, too, Osgar?"

There was silence, then Osgar's brother asked, "Will she be kept for long in the dungeon, Osgar?"

"You ask too many questions."

"That merchant was killed even after his man brought the ransom. The merchant and his man were both killed."

"Quiet your brother, Osgar, before I do," Derek said angrily.

Leonie had heard of such happenings, but not since the time of King Stephen when anarchy had prevailed. During King Stephen's time, even the poorest petty lord could collect riches and many did, extorting serf and freemen, even plundering churches. It was a common crime to capture anyone suspected of having even a little wealth. The victims were imprisoned and tortured until they were willing to give up all they possessed. No one was safe in those days, for there was no recourse to a king who was perpetually busy fighting to keep his crown. The true extent of criminality was realized later when all the unlicensed castles—more than a thousand—were ordered dismantled by Henry.

Leonie's fear became overwhelming, as she considered all of what would happen to her when she was turned over to Derek's lord. But even so, those fears receded when the four men stopped, and she recalled what they planned.

Bile rose in her throat when Derek said gruffly, "I need a gag."

"Oho, so you want her too. And here you put up such a fuss—"

"A gag! Quickly!" Derek snapped. "I warn you, we have very little time. She needs to be locked away before her men come looking for her."

"We do not carry rags with us," Osgar grumbled.

"Your shirt will do. Give it over."

The second Derek removed his hand so that one of them could gag her, she let out an ear-piercing scream. It was cut off quickly, the stinking shirt yanked hard across her mouth. The shirt was tied behind her head so tightly, she thought the corners of her mouth would surely rip open.

The moment the gag was secure, Derek shook her hard. Pain shot up her arms where he gripped her.

"Stop, Derek, before you break her neck!" someone warned.

"Do you think they heard her at the castle?" Osgar asked.

"They don't care what happens in the woods," Derek told him.

"Then why are you so angry?"

"We are far enough away from her men, but not if one has awakened and come after her."

"We should have killed them one and all," Osgar said disgustedly.

"There was no knight among them."

"And no sword among us but mine," Derek reminded them with contempt.

"Quiet! I hear something!"

Leonie heard it, too, growing louder by the second, the unmistakable sound of horses charging through the brush. Hope rose inside her, a living thing.

"You are saved for now, lady," Derek rasped angrily, "but I will make you pay for this later." To the others he ordered, "We cannot delay here now. Move quickly, but for God's sake do not make any noise."

"Derek, no," came an alarmed whisper. "There is the meadow to cross yet. We will be seen."

"Not if we wait by the meadow until all is quiet again. They will be spread out looking for her. If one comes upon us, we can kill him."

Leonie was propelled forward again. This time her arms gripped just above the elbows so that she couldn't reach up to pull out her gag. The other three men moved off ahead, but her struggle with Derek slowed him down. She tried jerking out of his hold, she tried stomping on his feet, she tried lifting her feet off the ground to pull him down. He was much stronger and none of it worked. He finally growled and hefted her up under his arm to carry her like a sack of meal.

She began feeling desperate again. The sound of hoof beats receded.

Oh, she would have given her life for a chance to call out!

Derek stopped near a wide clearing that cut through the woods and was exceptionally bright compared to the woodland on all sides of it. The other three men were crouched down by the edge waiting for her and Derek, alert, nerves taut.

"What have you seen?" Derek demanded, scanning the clearing.

"No movement, but I thought I heard another sound down the way."

"Who else heard it?" No answer came, and Derek grunted. "It is as I thought. They will not come this far afield to look for her. We have only to cross the meadow and we will be safe."

"Iwill not feel safe until we are rid of her. This was not such a good idea, Derek. Our usual prey do not have such large escorts."

They moved out, keeping close together. But they were not even halfway across the meadow when a horse and rider moved slowly out from the trees facing them.

"Tell me that is your lord, Derek." Dread filled the voice.

"Of course it is not. He is not such a large man. But do not panic now,"

Derek warned. "This is a full-armored knight. She had no such knight with her."

"Why does he sit there and stare at us?" Osgar asked uneasily. "Why doesn't he move?"

"Wait, he comes now," Derek cautioned. He set Leonie down and shoved her at the others. "Hold her. I may have to fight him."

"Youfighthim?"

"With your help, fool," Derek hissed just as the large destrier came abreast of them. "How may we serve you, my lord?"

"Show me what you have there."

"Just my lord's runaway wife. We are often sent to find her and bring her back. She is given to mental affliction."

"Strange. She looks so like my own wife. Of course, if I thought the lady of Kempston was being rough-handled, I would not like it."

Derek seemed to lose his tongue completely.

The large knight on the destrier eyed the rough man, waiting for him to speak.

"I think we are meeting the new lord of Kempston," Derek whispered.

"But the Black Wolf now has Kempston. You mean—"

"Yes. I think—I think this is his wife we have here."

"God's mercy, look at her eyes!" the third man cried. "She knows him!"

Osgar's brother started running before the words were out. The huge destrier cut off his flight in seconds, the flash of a blade felling the man.

The bloodcurdling war cry that followed set the other three to running, all in different directions. But it was only moments before the war-horse had run down two, the heavy sword following swiftly.

Osgar ran back the way they had come and would have escaped into the cover of trees before the destrier could cross the clearing, but another knight rode toward him from those woods and dispatched him with a spear.

Leonie could not move. The bodies of her four abductors were strewn around her, but she felt no relief. She was safe—yet not safe. A new ordeal was beginning.

"Finish here, Piers, and then send the men back to camp." As Rolfe spoke, more of his men rode into the clearing. "If one of those men is still alive, I want to know where they were going with her."

"Are you . . . ?" Piers began.

"I will be along shortly—with my wife."

Leonie had removed her gag, but she was too frozen with terror to speak.

Rolfe dismounted and came to stand before her. His face was hidden beneath his helmet, and she could not tell what he was thinking. Silence held her.

Finally, he asked, "Did they hurt you?"

How coldly formal he was! "They—meant to, but the sound of your horses frightened them." She looked directly up at him then, her eyes imploring. "My lord, I would speak with you—"

"Oh, we will speak, my lady. Do not doubt it."

Leonie gasped as he gripped her arm and propelled her toward his horse. He mounted, pulling her up into his lap. They rode off toward the woods, then—not toward camp, but away from it.

Leonie was in a misery of dread. She did not want Rolfe to hurt her.

But he was going to beat her. Why else would he take her away from the others?