By Queen's Grace. Shari Anton

Skirts hiked nearly to her knees, she bolted into the woods.

      “Oswuld! Duncan! Catch her!” the man called out.

      She didn’t give a thought to being quiet about her flight, just to putting distance between herself and the ruffians. Twigs snapped beneath her booted feet. Tree limbs reached out to tear her black robe. Still she ran, leaping over logs and winding among the trees, in a headlong rush for a spot where she knew she could hide in thick underbrush.

      If she lost her pursuers, she could later regain the road and make a dash for the safe haven of the abbey, the same abbey she’d been thinking of as a prison for so many weeks now. Amazing how one’s view of the world could change so quickly.

      Judith gave a brief thought to her companions and prayed that they would remain safe. She would have the ruffian leader’s head on a pike, hoisted high over the abbey’s door, if he harmed one hair on Sister Mary Margaret’s head.

      Over the noise of her panting she could now hear the two men who gave chase. They shouted back and forth at each other, directing the search. One even had the gall to call out to her, suggesting she be sensible and halt ner foolish flight. She couldn’t hope to escape them, he taunted.

      Despite the ache in her chest and the pain in her legs, Judith quickened her pace. She ducked under a stout oak branch and headed down the steep hill beyond. She fell at the bottom and landed hard on the forest floor.

      “I see her, Duncan! This way!”

      Judith scrambled to her feet. She didn’t look back. If she could make it over the next hill, she would be safe.

      “To your left, Oswuld! Keep on her heels!”

      Up she ran, slipping on the long grass, her entire being focused on the top of the rise. Sheer force of will got her over. Only a few yards off stood her refuge-a fallen oak, nearly hollow, smothered by vines and guarded by brambles. Quickly, ignoring scrapes and pricks, Judith crawled into the sanctuary of the oak and curled up as small as she could.

      She buried her face in her robe to muffle her panting. Mercy, she hadn’t run so hard since her early youth. She longed to draw a deep, refreshing breath, but didn’t dare. From the rustling sounds, she could tell that the men had reached the top of the rise.

      They came to a halt. Judith could almost feel their searching eyes pass over her hiding place, looking for some sign of her.

      “Duncan?”

      Silence stretched into eternity.

      “This way, I think,” he finally answered. “Aye, look here, a piece of her robe.”

      Judith closed her eyes and silently cursed.

      The men resumed the chase, thundering past her hiding place in the direction they thought she’d run.

      Acute relief trembled through her limbs. She’d done it. She was safe. Her heart still pounded, but it would calm. The fear she’d masked with anger began to abate.

      The men would search for a while yet, but unable to find her, would return to their leader and report failure. By then, she’d be well on her way to the abbey. Until she was sure the men were gone, however, she would remain where she was, shooing away the bugs that made the rotted log their home, picking at the burrs that clung to her torn robe.

      She wrinkled her nose against the stench of her nest. She could bear it, having no choice.

      Abbess Christina was going to have a fit. Over the torn robe. Over her leaving the abbey without permission and then wandering so far away. Punishment, this time, would involve far harsher measures than scrubbing pots. But for all the abbess would bluster, she would also know how to proceed. These ruffians must be caught and dealt with before they could do further mischief.

      Judith jumped when a thump reverberated through the log, as though something had hit it. A squirrel? Rabbit? An animal with sharper teeth?

      “You might as well come out, my lady,” said a voice she now recognized as Duncan’s. “I would as soon not come in to drag you out.”

      Nay! This couldn’t be! How had they found her? Why hadn’t she heard them circle back? None of the answers mattered, for obviously they’d retraced their steps and found her hiding place. Or were they guessing? She didn’t move.

       Thump.

      “Have a care with those stones, Duncan,” Oswuld said. “If you hurt her.”

      “I will not hurt the lady. Unless, of course, she makes me crawl through those brambles to drag her out of that log. What say you, Princess? Do you come out or must I come in?”

      Whether they were sure of where she hid or not, they wouldn’t leave without checking, and she’d be found. Judith sighed.

       Thump. Thump.

      Judith swatted at several, agitated bugs. “Stop that!” she shouted, and crawled out of the log. She stopped short of wading through the brambles as she faced her tormentors.

      The ruffian with the smug grin on his face had to be Duncan. He tossed several stones on the ground and dusted off his hands. The other, a lad barely grown into his beard, must be Oswuld. Oswuld looked malleable, Duncan no less than stubborn, but she wouldn’t know until she tried.

      “Could we come to a bargain?” she asked.

      Both men caught her meaning and shook their heads. She tried again.

      “You know who I am, so you must know that my uncle Alexander and aunt Matilda have the wealth of entire kingdoms at their disposal. Return me to the safety of the abbey and I will see you are both richly rewarded.”

      Oddly enough, ‘twas Duncan who seemed to consider her offer. Oswuld didn’t.

      “We have our duty, my lady,” the younger man said. “Besides, wealth would do neither Duncan nor me any good if my father hunted us down and carved out our hearts, now, would it?”

      “Your father?”

      “Thurkill, the man whose horse you pushed out of your way. He will not forgive you that for a long while, I wager.”

      Judith didn’t care if Thurkill ever forgave her, and didn’t plan to be in his company long enough to find out. Somehow, she must convince these two men to let her go, or escape them once more. Judith plowed through the brambles, this time feeling every prick and scrape. The men moved forward as she came out of the patch, one on each side of her.

      “What you do is unlawful,” she said.

      “And for the greater good of England,” Duncan stated with a gleam of righteousness in his eyes. He grabbed her elbow and steered her back toward the road.

      She jerked away. “I fail to understand how abducting me can possibly benefit the kingdom!”

      “Well, you see, my lady, we-”

      Oswuld interrupted, warning, “Duncan, that is a tale for my father to tell.”

      Duncan took the rebuke with little grace, but said no more.

      During the long walk back to the road, Judith looked for opportunities to escape. But with both men so close, she didn’t find one.

      Thurkill waited where she’d left him, as did everyone else. The nuns still huddled together, unharmed.

      “Took you long enough,” Thurkill complained.

      Oswuld smiled. “She is a smart one, Father. Nearly gave us the slip, she did.”

      Mercy, Oswuld sounded proud of her!

      Duncan nodded in agreement, then grumbled, “Aye, she did. Has a mouth on her, too.”

      Judith bristled, but kept her mouth closed.

      “She can complain all she wishes and it will not change a thing. Let us be off,” Thurkill said.

      The dread returned,