She knew why she hurt...she'd overdone the riding bit to intercept the army and topped that off with a bedding that surpa.s.sed all bounds of decency. A couple of serious fights with two very big, strong men hadn't helped either.

"Are you all right, Maman?" whispered Geoffrey.

"Just peachy," Bella lied. She said thanks to the groom, tucked her feet in the stirrups, dug her heels in Jupiter's sides, gritted her teeth and bid Geoffrey to lead on. But she told herself that at the first opportunity possible, she was going to disembowel John Chandos and stake him out in an ant bed. Anything less than an Apache death was too good for the likes of him.

"A hope deferred makes a heart sick, but a wish fulfilled is a tree of life."

PROVERBS 13:12.

-33.

There were forty riders in all in Sir John's free company of which thirty-seven were armed and dangerous as they prowled northward toward Calais. Bella didn't consider Geoffrey, Guilamu or herself armed, even though they had a weapon at their hip. She didn't have so much as an eating knife.

At the same time they set out, two other chevauchees also embarked. The purpose of the mounted raids was to clear the road ahead for the King's army and to seek out any stragglers from the battlefield to destroy them before they could regroup and attack again.

Prince Edward and his cadre accompanied Sir John's for the earliest part of the morning ride, but by necessity, the Prince's troops swept eastward after a few miles in the direction of St. Pol. Chandos headed due north obstensibly to scout the abbey at Montreuil. Another sortie led by Lord Bouchier moved west to the coast to take Etaples.

The plan, Bella found out by listening to the soldiers talk, was for each troop to take command of their a.s.signed area and await the arrival of the main body of the army. In the back of everybody's mind there seemed to be a unified wish to take the rich city of Boulogne.

However, at around four that afternoon, with Montreuil going up in smoke and the abbey surrendered to English occupation, Boulougne seemed about as attainable as Paris in Bella's mind. She wanted a bed and the sooner she found it, the happier she was going to be.

Complaining that Jupiter had picked up a stone about a mile back Bella had dismounted. After checking the animal's hooves she made a duty call behind a hedge of unburnt bushes and walked up the sloping path from the vineyards to the abbey.

Her Arab shadow followed. Geoffrey lost patience with Bella's plodding pace. He galloped ahead to join the action and excitement of routing more peasants.

There was no actual taking of Montreuil to do. The word that English troops were in the area was telegraphed from location to location by the time honored tactic of scorch and burn. The first thatch-roofed hut bursting into flames cleared the peasantry from a five mile area. As there were no forests nearby, Montreuil lay deserted as they arrived. Likewise the abbey.

Bella said a grateful prayer for there not being any dead bodies littering the single street, if she could call the path between the abbey and the communal well a street.

Sir John's patrol spread out, dismounted, moving from building to building, engaged in their systematic search for booty, people and deserters.

Bella tied Jupiter to the post beside the well, plopped onto her stomach, dunked her head in the water and sat up, scrubbing away the afternoon's crust of dirt and grit. She smoothed her hair back from her face, using damp hands to twist it into a coil. She had two straight twigs making do as chopsticks to hold the heavy coil off her shoulders. She pushed up her sleeves, rinsing hands and forearms, flapped the open lapels of her cotte hardie and welcomed the dribble of cool water inside the heavy garment.

She gauged the temperature to be ninety-five. Few clouds dotted the azure sky. There was something to be said about not wearing stark black wool and leather garments in the summer. The honest truth was she was about to die from the heat.

She sat on the rim of the well while Jupiter drank his fill, envying the horse his ignorance of disease and water-born pollutants. She was dying of thirst herself, but until a pot of water was boiled, she wasn't drinking the stuff, no matter how thirsty she was.

Gradually, Sir John's men emerged from the scattered buildings, regrouping at the well where Bella sat and waited. Robin and two of his cohorts had secured an armful of wine bottles. He pulled a cork with his teeth and spat the cork on the dirt, upended the bottle and drank his fill, then pa.s.sed it to the next man. Sir John stood apart in conference with his lieutenants. Curiously, they only torched the village huts. The abbey, at this point and its vineyards remained whole.

Bella stared longingly at the inviting darkness beyond the open doors of the church. It would be twenty degrees cooler in there and quiet, peaceful, just the place to take a nap.

Decisions made and orders given, Sir John marched toward the well. Geoffrey tagged after him leading both their horses.

"We ride on," Sir John announced to the wine drinkers. Robin wiped his mouth with his sleeve and tossed the bottle in the dirt, turned to mount his horse.

"Can't we stay here for the night?" Bella asked when the sweaty man was close enough that she could smell him.

"Nay, Bella, there's five hours of daylight left. We will push on."

"Great," she mumbled, forcing herself onto her feet. Sir John followed her around Jupiter and laced his fingers to give her a boost. Bella put one hand on his shoulder and complained, "If you knew what my body feels like, you wouldn't make me ride one inch farther down the road."

He caught her foot and hoisted her up into the saddle. "No one ordered you to join the army, milady. 'Twas your choice. Cease your complaints."

He mounted his own beast, as did five others soldiers also Robin, Geoffrey and Guilamu. The rest of the vanguard remained at the abbey, to hold possession of it until King Edward arrived on the morrow.

That left ten of them riding due north as the sun dropped into the western sky. They had reached land Bella recognized as familiar. As the sun set they skirted around the country manor of Jeanne de Vienne. The gates of the walled estate were closed. The road to Calais deserted.

Here the land became less cultivated. Open fields were well separated by stands of uncut trees. Bella knew from the week before the woodlands designated property lines. At dusk, Sir John finally stopped at a clearing in one thickly forested grouping, announcing this would make a secure camp for the night.

"The horses are tired," he declared.

Horses, Bella snorted as she swung one screamingly painful leg over the saddle and slithered to the

ground.

Chalk from sweat and dust coated Jupiter's brown coat. His big head drooped to the verdant gra.s.s.

While scouts secured the perimeter, Bella led the horse to the adjacent stream.

Everyone else unsaddled their mounts, removing packs and rubbing them down. Bella knew she was expected to do the same for Jupiter. Apparently the code of the West that valued horses above everything else in life had been imported from Europe.

Realizing how close she was to rescuing Henri from Calais, Bella couldn't begrudge the horse that had brought her this far. She continued to harbor the private complaint that there had to be a better way to tour Europe than in the company of John Chandos, aka, Attila the Hun.

Everywhere she had been this day, thatched roofs went up in smoke and peasants ran screaming for their lives. Cattle were run off or slaughtered. Every field of grain and barn was scorched to the bare earth. When they came upon deserters from the French army, holed up at a crossroads shrine, no mercy was shown. Sir John and his vanguard swiftly put the men to death. Their orders from the king remained; take no prisoners.

Bella's thoughts couldn't have turned more dismal when Geoffrey took Jupiter in hand, saying he would see the animal hobbled with the others. "You look tired, Maman. Why don't you sit down and rest. Guilamu will see to the cooking and I've already gathered the wood." "Where's your father?" Bella looked around for the first time to see who was or wasn't in camp. "He and Robin went to scare up some game. Else we'll have nothing to eat but coneys."

"Coneys?" Bella frowned. "What's that, pine cones?"

"Naw," Geoffrey laughed. "Rabbits, Maman." He dug in his pockets and produced a small yellowish object that he offered to Bella.

"What's that?" "Soap." Geoffrey grinned. He pointed up the stream. "There's a pool up the bend. You might go there. 'Tis private." "You are a G.o.dsend, Geoffrey, my boy." Bella sniffed the curious bar of scented soap. "Where ever did you find this?" "At the abbey," he shuffled his feet, embarra.s.sed. "I stole it. Papa told us not to take anything from the monks, but I thought G.o.d would not begrudge one small bar of soap. The Dominicans have no use for it.

It is against their rule to bathe. Some traveller must have left it behind."

"I shall use it with heartfelt grat.i.tude," Bella managed a grin as she tousled Geoffrey's hair.

He led her horse away. Revived by the prospect of a thorough bath, Bella struggled her way up the

tangled undergrowth lining the stream until she came to the pool.

A natural barrier of rocks d.a.m.ned the stream, forming the deep pool Geoffrey had told her about. It was perfect. The spring water sparkled as clear and unpolluted as could be, bubbling out of fissures between the rocks. She dropped to her knees, testing the temperature, cupping the delicious stuff in her palms, drinking her fill at last.

Frankly, she didn't care what the temperature was. She set the soap on the stones and began unfastening her clothes from her feet up. As she slipped naked into the water and submerged completely, she felt as if she'd never been in real water before.

Sir John and his eldest son stepped into the clearing by the pool in time to see the lovely lines of Bella's back as she sank into the water.

"So much for snaring a deer," Robin grinned. "That's not quite the doe we were looking for."

Sir John handed his brace of black squirrels to the youth. "I believe your mother has had a good idea for once. Take these to Guilamu. We'll be along shortly."

"So you shall." Robin took the squirrels. "Enjoy the water."

"Indeed, I shall," Sir John a.s.serted.

He wound his way silently through the undergrowth to the far edge of the pool. As he put aside his hunting bow, John watched Bella surface near the flat rocks where she'd left her clothing.

Wet hair clung to her back and hugged the firm globes of her bottom. She treated him to a spectacular view of her splendidly naked body when she took her soap to hand and brought all of that heavy mane of hair up to her head, scrubbing it energetically enough to raise a white, foamy lather.

Chandos wanted very much to have a hand in lathering all the rest of her. He swiftly removed his clothes and slipped into the water without a sound.

Bella clasped whole handfuls of hair, diligently working her fingers into her scalp and the cleansing lather through the length of her hair. The lemon-scented fragrance filled her nose. It felt absolutely glorious to ma.s.sage her head. She looped the heavy tresses on top of her head and carefully laid the soap on the rocks for safe keeping.

Then she slowly sank into the water, dunked her head completely under, fingers spreading and separating her hair around her to rinse it clean. Her backside b.u.mped into something under the surface. Bella popped head and shoulders out of the water, exclaiming in surprise to find Chandos naked beside her.

"Good evening, wife," he said huskily. Both his hands grasped her waist and lifted her against him.

"My lord!" Bella gasped.

He drew her effortlessly forward, flush against him, delighted by the way her legs instinctively parted and wrapped firmly around his hips. She had her arms raised, hands busily pressing tangles of hair away from her face. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s thrust out of the water, rosy tipped and glistening.

The temptation to taste them before he tasted her lips overwhelmed him. He took the bead of delicious water from the tip then opened his mouth over the sweet dusky circle, drawing all of it deep within his mouth.

A shudder whip down her belly where she pressed against him and her womanly crevice bucked against the head of his hardening shaft in a blatant invitation to enter. She gasped out his name and both her arms found his head and shoulders, tightening with the same possessiveness that her legs did, enveloping him.

Her nipple budded against his tongue, swelling to a hard arousal mirroring the lengthening of his rod.

"My sweet lord," she whispered huskily as he released the one and sought the other sweet jewel. He tightened his hands on her ribs, lifting her higher, tugging deeply on her breast, marvelling at how sensitive she was, how greatly such suckling aroused her.

When he released the hardened nub and looked to see what effect he'd had upon the rosy jewels each stood proudly at attention, pebbled and pointed, quivering with each of her shuddering breaths.

"You surprised me," Bella said with glazed eyes as he let her body slowly settle properly against his.

"Did I?" he inquired, hooking one arm lightly around her waist. He was tall enough that his feet could touch the bottom of the pool and lever them closer to the rocky ledge. He found the rocks she'd stood upon and settled his hips there, crooking his legs, pulling her firmly onto his lap.

"Yes, you did," Bella shyly regarded his mouth, wanting very badly to kiss him, but uncertain if she should take the initiative when he had so obviously started this tryst with a purpose.

"You were expecting someone else to come along and bathe you, lady?" His brow rose, but Bella instinctively knew that he was teasing.

"No, of course not," Bella glanced sideways to double check that they were alone and un.o.bserved. "I was too tired to care about anything but cooling off in the water."

"Cooling off, hmm?" John reached for the sc.r.a.p of soap.

He brought it to his nose and sniffed its tangy fragrance just as Bella had done. She straddled his parted thighs, completely out of the water save for her ankles and feet.

"Shall we see how cool you've become?" he said as he began purposefully to wash her, beginning at her throat and building a slick, thick coating of lather over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and down her belly.

When his hand reached the golden red triangle at the apex of her thighs, he deliberately widened the gap between his own legs, opening her more. Bella caught hold of his shoulders, watching his expression as his hand dipped between her legs, stroking and lathering her intimately. He remained completely intent upon his task, putting the soap aside for later, using just his fingers and her own secretions to thicken the suds. She couldn't help but moan with the pleasure his hand produced. He dropped his palm into the water and gently splashed away the lather, rinsing her clean, but she was far, far from dry.

He brought handfuls of water to her throat, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, her belly, until all the soap was gone. "Better?" he asked with a puckish smile.

"Much," Bella admitted. "Is it my turn?" she asked, reaching for the soap.

"Nay," he caught her hand, bringing it back to his shoulder deliberately. "I would shame myself if I allowed you to touch me in such a way. A man fresh from battle is too eager for more conquests to dally, Bella."

"Is that so?" She glanced down to his throbbing red headed rod and moistened her lips with her tongue. "The battle was yesterday."

"Aye, so it was. And I have exerted restraint ever since, but no longer."

"Such n.o.ble intent is to be admired, my lord," Bella said tongue in cheek.

He responded by picking her up as he rose from the water, striding over the rocks to the gra.s.sy embankment. Bella sighed as he laid her down on the soft gra.s.s. She didn't try to hide the smile on her mouth as his shaft slide deep inside her. "That's very direct."

"Think so?" he also grinned.

She smoothed his wet hair back from his face. There was enough of it that she could twine her fingers in it and capture his head.

"That's very nice," she said approvingly.

"Nice," John adjusted his position, resting on his elbows, gripping her head between his hands. "Will you kiss me now?" Bella requested.

"Wife, I am far beyond the kissing stage," he replied sternly. "Best you know in advance that I've contained my baser urges as long as I can. Bring your legs higher and lock them behind my hips."

"Aye, aye, my lord." Bella obeyed with alacrity, that grin twitching mischievously at the corners of her lips. Chandos settled deeper inside her, revelling at the pleasure of her tightened sheath encasing him. He dipped his head and took her smiling lips with his own. That was the last gentle gesture that he could afford as need ruled by raging desire took over.

The full moon was up before Chandos and his wife strolled into camp. Geoffrey squatted beside the fire poking a stick into the embers under the grilled squirrels and rabbits. Guilamu and Robin played a game of dice.

"Ho, Maman, Papa," Geoffrey greeted the newcomers with a grin. "The soap was good, then," he decided.

"Excellent," Bella answered as John released his firm hold upon her waist. She sank down to the gra.s.s, setting aside her stockings, garters and boots, and plowed her fingers through her wet curls. "What's to eat?"

"We've already eaten, but Guilamu saved you a rabbit," Robin said over his shoulder, concentrating on Guilamu's tricky roll of the dice. The Arab never failed to beat him. As his parents settled to their late supper, he remembered his gift for them. s.n.a.t.c.hing the dice from the ground to keep Guilamu at bay, he strode to pack and saddle and withdrew a dusty bottle of fine red French wine and presented that to his father.

Sir John grinned over the gift. "How thoughtful of you, Robin."

"And I thought they drank it all at the abbey," Bella teased, clucking her tongue.

Sir John uncorked it, tilted the bottle to his lips and tasted the aged brew. "As fine as the pope's own