“You cannot kill Sir Magnin’s men,” said Sir Geoffrey. “He would boil you in oil for it. That is the law.”
“Not Milengi law-”
“But Frankish law and Greek law,” said Sir Geoffrey. “Now go home.”
“No,” she said stubbornly. “I want to see Sir Magnin. I do have a message for him, and not the one you so crudely suggested. And as a member of the Milengi tribe, who caught this man when everyone else failed to recognize him, it is my right to see that our interest in him is guarded.”
Sir Geoffrey opened his mouth.
“Sir Magnin could not have done this as easily as you boast without our support,” she said. “If the Milengi think we are being cheated of our ransom, we will not keep our allegiance.”
“It is your brother who should be making those threats, not you,” said Sir Geoffrey.
She shrugged. “My brother has the wits of a log. Yani and I cannot always convince him to act quickly.”
“And are you certain Yani knows what you are doing?”
She shrugged again. “I do not have to answer to you, Sir Geoffrey. Besides, if I ride in with you, no man in the castle will dare touch me. I will be safe. And Sir Magnin’s order is enough to give me protection. But if I have to walk in, whatever happens to me will be on your conscience. Now what do you say?”
Noel started to laugh at the sour look on Sir Geoffrey’s face, but swiftly changed it to a cough. Sir Geoffrey glared at him. He glared at her. Finally he gestured angrily.
“Very well. Get on behind Lord Theodore. I shall take you to Sir Magnin, but if he refuses to see you, little maid, you are on your own. I have other business more important than guarding your chastity, and you are no responsibility of mine.”
She grinned, unimpressed by his threat, and climbed on behind Noel. The saddle kept them separated, but still he found his senses flooded by a lot of girl. Bodily warmth radiated from her. She smelled musky and sweet, all of herbs, woodsmoke, and the outdoors. The narrow cut of her gown made it necessary for her to hike it up to her knees. Noel gazed down at her slim, golden calf and foot dangling just inches from his own leg.
He swallowed hard, intent on controlling his heat. They went bouncing down the trail at that tail-pounding, head-numbing trot, and within minutes Elena’s arms snaked around his middle to keep her balance. He could feel her breasts against his back. The wind blew strands of her hair against his cheek and they felt like twists of silk teasing and stroking his skin. His blood flamed to the boiling point.
“I’m glad you came,” he said to her in a low voice so that Sir Geoffrey could not hear. “You’ve improved what was turning out to be a bad afternoon. How about-”
“You,” she said even lower in his ear, her breath a warm tickle that made his heart pound with pleasure, “are an impostor. George overheard everything that you and Lord Theodore plotted.”
Noel went cold with alarm. When he could find his voice he said, “Hell is too nice a place for George.”
She rested her chin upon the point of his shoulder. “I think he is a very clever dwarf. And Lord Theodore is a very clever governor. You are the fool.”
Noel gritted his teeth. Every bit of attraction she’d held for him vanished. The mule picked its way around a tricky bend in the trail when for a moment they seemed to hang over nothing but air. Noel felt the urge to tip Elena off at that point, but, seething, he curbed it.
“We like this development, however,” said Elena. “Yani and I are pleased because we still have Lord Theodore in our hands in case Sir Magnin decides to trick us. A man who steals another’s castle will steal from his friends as well. You see?”
“I see,” said Noel bleakly. Byzantine intrigue… now he knew why the term originated.
“So we want Sir Magnin to go on thinking you are Lord Theodore. I am along to make sure you do not lose your nerve and confess the truth to him. He is a very intimidating man.”
“I’m not easily intimidated,” said Noel.
He felt the prick of a knife point against his kidney, and stiffened.
“Good,” said Elena, her voice like gold in his ear. “Because I will disembowel you if you betray us. Clear enough?”
“Very clear.”
She laughed, obviously pleased with herself. Noel glowered at his bound hands resting upon the pommel. His knuckles had gone white. Anger blazed through him. He had never felt so damned helpless. Everything, from the moment he stepped through the time portal, had gone totally wrong. Someone unseen and unknown had sabotaged his mission. He was possibly trapped in this time and place for the rest of his life. And now he was being used as a pawn in a local game of politics and war. He wasn’t used to being manipulated. He didn’t like it. He wasn’t going to put up with it any longer.
Ahead, Sir Geoffrey’s attention was centered upon his own mount and the steep dip in the trail. There was no longer a precipice on Noel’s right; the slope remained very steep, but it now looked navigable, if only by a mountain goat.
Not giving himself time to reconsider, Noel leaned forward over the mule’s neck and grabbed the slack lead rope. One quick yank pulled it from Sir Geoffrey’s grasp. The knight glanced back and shouted, but Noel had already turned the mule. He kicked it hard in the flanks, and the startled animal plunged off the trail into a thicket of brush that whipped Noel’s face and arms mercilessly.
The angle was steeper than it had looked from the trail. The mule scrambled and lunged. Finding no bit in its mouth, it stretched out its nose and went where it pleased. Noel found himself pushing against the stirrups and leaning back against Elena to keep his seat. She clutched him and screamed a torrent of Greek in his ear too fast for his translator to handle.
Behind them, Sir Geoffrey yelled again, but Noel didn’t look back. Breathlessly he concentrated on hanging on. The mule plunged through another thicket. Locust branches raked him with thorns. Elena screamed as they caught in her hair. Noel glanced back and saw a hank of auburn hair left hanging from a branch. She pounded on his back with her fist and reached around him, trying to snatch the rope he held in his hands.
“Stop the mule!” she commanded. “Stop it now! We cannot go this way.”
The mule skidded to a halt at the edge of a gully, then jumped down into the bottom of it. Noel’s bones rattled at the unexpected change of direction. He clutched the pommel while the mule scrambled up the other side of the gully. From behind them he glimpsed Sir Geoffrey forcing his horse down the hillside at a cautious pace. He could hear Sir Geoffrey cursing steadily.
“You will kill us,” said Elena. “Stop the mule!”
“No!” said Noel. “I’m getting out of here.”
“You forget I have a knife, to make you stop!”
Noel gave the mule another hard kick in the ribs. It responded with a half rear and picked up speed, jumping recklessly off an outcropping of rock and landing with a stumble that jolted Noel half from the saddle.
He caught himself and hung on grimly.
“Do you hear me?” yelled Elena. “I have a knife.”
“Then use it,” said Noel. He saw a branch coming and ducked flat to the mule’s neck. It veered at the last moment and scraped his leg against the tree trunk. Noel yelled with pain and kicked the beast again. He realized now that it was doing its best to dislodge them. It wanted its freedom as much as he wanted his.
“Use it!” repeated Noel in a burst of complete recklessness. “But if I fall off you’ll fall too.”
“Don’t count on it,” she said and sank her teeth into his shoulder.
The pain was unexpected and intense. Noel stood up in the stirrups and twisted around, trying to grab her by the waist and sweep her off.
She clung to him, her nails digging in, her hair flying wildly.
The mule dodged to one side, and Elena slipped. She clawed at his arm, trying to pull herself back. Yelling and pleading in fear, her words were drowned out by the pounding of the mule’s hooves and the throbbing desperation within Noel’s ears. She was still sliding, her head dangling near his foot, near those dangerous hooves.
He thought about what it would be like to fall at a speed like this. He thought about what might happen if she happened to roll beneath the mule. He thought about slashing hooves cutting young flesh to ribbons, of smashing bones, of Elena being broken like a discarded doll upon the ground.
“Damn!” said Noel. He tightened his fingers around her own and heaved himself hard to the left in an effort to pull her up.
