By Queen's Grace. Shari Anton

Her voice caught. She took a deep breath and cleared her throat before she continued, “I know not where. Think on all you have put me through today and tell me again that you mean me no harm.”

      He did think, for just a moment, his mouth curving into a frown. Then he shook off his thoughts and had the gall to say, “All will be well, Lady Judith. You will see.”

      She tossed up her hands in frustration and took the last steps to the stream. A splash of cold water drew the heat from her face but did nothing to ease her upset. Oswuld allowed her a moment of privacy to care for bodily necessities before they returned to the campsite.

      The men sat near the fire, watching the roasting rabbits turn brown. Oswuld guided her to a nearby boulder, where she perched to wait for her share of the meal. Her stomach grumbled loudly, but no one paid it any heed. Mercy, the meat was taking a long time to cook. She dragged her attention away from the juice that dripped and hissed in the fire.

      “You owe me an explanation, Thurkill,” she said.

      Scrunched down beside the fire, Thurkill gave the rabbit another turn before answering. “I do at that, Lady Judith, and I suppose now is as good a time as any to give it.” He stood and scratched at his beard. “Where to start?”

      “You might begin with why I have been abducted.”

      Thurkill smiled. “To make you our queen, of course.”

      “What?” she blurted out.

      “You find that hard to believe?”

      “‘Tis possibly the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard!” she said, voicing her immediate reaction.

      “But true, I promise you.”

      Judith opened her mouth to protest, but closed it again. Her reasoning simply wasn’t keeping up with this absurd conversation. A queen, indeed! She thought back on all of the assumptions she’d made today about these men and their purpose. Obviously, she’d missed some vital link in her conclusions.

      “Queen of what?” she couldn’t help but ask.

      “England.”

      She leaned forward. “England already has a queen-my aunt Matilda.”

      “Matilda will no longer be queen when Henry is no longer king. His reign will end soon if all goes well.”

      Judith trembled with horror. Thurkill calmly, with a smile on his face, spoke treason.

      She could manage no more than a choked whisper. “You intend to displace King Henry.”

      “And put a Saxon on the throne.” Thurkill’s smile faded. “These Normans have ruled our land far too long. We intend to send them all back to Normandy and reclaim the lands they stole from us at the Conquest.”

      Unthinkable. Impossible! “You would need a vast army, well armed and trained and-”

      “Aye, my lady, and a man capable of leading our army to victory. We have the leader and are amassing the army.”

      “Who would dare.?”

      “I cannot tell you, not until we reach the safety of his holding,” he said, and turned back to his rabbits.

      Judith’s thoughts churned, not wanting to settle on her part in these men’s plans. But once it gelled, she felt compelled to confirm it.

      “This leader of yours, ‘tis he you wish me to wed.”

      Thurkill looked up at her. “He is of noble Saxon blood, but not royal. Marriage to you will strengthen his claim to the throne, make the shift of power more acceptable to the royal houses of other countries.”

      The royal house of Scotland would be the first to come to England’s aid. “Acceptable to my uncle Alexander, you mean.”

      “And others.”

      “‘Tis a foolhardy undertaking.”

      “‘Tis England’s only hope.”

      Judith closed her eyes and drew a long breath. Thurkill wouldn’t be moved by her arguments, nor would the other men. If they’d followed Thurkill on this villainous adventure to capture her-to make her their queen, of all the ridiculous notions-they must believe in the rightness of what they did.

      “My lady?”

      Judith opened her eyes to see Thurkill standing before her, holding out a chunk of rabbit. Absently, she accepted it and took a small bite. Her hunger had vanished, but she needed to eat, if only to bolster her strength for the ordeal ahead. Mercy, she must not only find a way to escape, but to quickly warn the kings of both England and Scotland of the impending uprising.

      She glanced from Thurkill-who’d taken a seat on the log she’d abandoned earlier-to Oswuld and Duncan. They all tucked into their portions of meat as if there would be no meal on the morrow, as most soldiers did. And these men were soldiers, though they fought for a hopeless cause.

      Normans had ruled England for more than four decades, held every high position in the land, owned nearly every inch of England. Dislodging the Normans wouldn’t take an army, ‘twould take a miracle, and miracles came few and far between.

      The meat went down hard and sat as a solid lump in her stomach, but she finished her portion. She turned to toss the bones in the fire, praying for her own small miracle.

      Thurkill gasped. Duncan leaped upward.

      “Sit you back down or your leader dies,” commanded a male voice with steady and calm authority.

      Recognition thrummed through her. She’d never forgotten the sound of that voice, the deep, smooth tones of a courageous, handsome knight. Even as she looked to confirm the man’s identity, she wondered if her sight deceived her.

      Corwin! She would know his handsome visage and azure-blue eyes anywhere. He wore no helmet, leaving his shoulder-length brown hair free to frame his high cheekbones and strong, clean-shaven chin.

      His highly polished chain mail reflected the orange rays of the setting sun, giving him an aura of breathtaking power. The hilt of his sword flashed from where it rested in the scabbard at his waist. He was a sight to behold, to be sure.

      With one hand twisted into Thurkill’s hair, the other holding a dagger pressed hard to the helpless man’s throat, Corwin stared hard at Duncan.

      Very slowly, Duncan obeyed Corwin’s command, resuming his seat on the forest floor.

      Judith stood up, her heart beating so fast she nearly fainted. By the grace of God, Corwin had found her. Rescue was at hand.

      “If everyone remains calm, we may avoid bloodshed,” Corwin said. “Especially yours, Thurkill. My dagger is sharp, and I have yet to decide whether or not to let you live.”

      To Corwin’s relief, Thurkill remained tense but didn’t move. Killing the brigands’ leader wasn’t part of hisplan, a plan that had changed in extreme measure when he’d overheard the rebels’ treasonous intention to overthrow the king of England.

      Throughout the day he’d trailed this band with every intention of snatching Judith from her abductors. They hadn’t been difficult to track, and had given him the opportunity. But now, with a kingdom at stake, he couldn’t carry through.

      Judith stood across the campsite, a smile gracing her lovely mouth. Wisps of hair had escaped her braid, which was about to come undone, giving a winsome quality to her classically beautiful features. Admiration and expectation shone in those sultry gray eyes he remembered so well.

      Her unfettered glee had naught to do with seeing him again, he knew. She expected release from her ordeal. He was about to disappoint her, and the stronger her reaction to what she would perceive as betrayal, the better for both of them.

      “You know my name?” Thurkill whispered, dragging Corwin’s attention away from the woman across the campsite to the man held statue still by the dagger at his throat.