They mounted up, continued on, and came to the fork in the road.
Donald glanced at the lower trail. The ruts were deep and the lane narrow. His focus switched to the upper route. The comte was correct. This way would be easier and faster. The trees didn’t encroach on the wide path. They took the upper trail.
From the top of the ridge they saw the rolling hills and the patchwork of vineyards. Donald gave her a piece of linen to drape over her head and protect her from the sun.
They had traveled about an hour when Donald turned and looked past her down the trail.
She turned quickly to see what caught his attention and scanned the area as best she could.
She came up next to him. He said nothing. They kept going.
“I felt it, too. Someone is watching us,” she said.
“I think you are over tired and imagining things. If someone was following we would have heard them tramping in the woods or horse’s hooves on these stones. No. There is nobody about. There’s a clearing up ahead. We can stop there.”
They coaxed the horses off the trail to the clearing. While Donald took care of the horses, she went for a bit of privacy.
She came to the bushes and froze at the sound of a low rumble. She slowly turned her head. Her heart leapt into her throat. A wolf with its teeth bared crouched close enough for her to see the spittle dripping from its muzzle.
“Rea.”
She dare not call out. The wolf’s eyes were locked on her.
“Rea, where are you?”
Keeping her head still, she glanced for something to protect her. She found nothing.
Out of nowhere there was a high-pitched whistle.
The wolf turned toward the noise as Donald charged at the animal.
The beast forgot about her and took off for Donald. The animal leaped at him, growling and snapping. Donald, knocked down by the impact, rolled to his feet.
Standing his full six-foot three-inch height, he yelled, threw his arms wide, and came at the wolf.
The animal, its teeth bared, hunkered down ready to spring.
Donald was not put off. Was the man crazy, screaming and lunging at the beast? The wolf sprang at him, but he was ready. He caught the wolf by the shoulders and kept the animal at arm’s length.
The beast, on its hind legs, snapped and tried to bite his arm, but only got a taste or two of his tunic.
Donald kicked the animal’s underbelly over and over until the beast cried out and tried to get free. But he would not let go. The beast needed to be convinced it wasn’t a match for the man. He kept kicking until the wolf finally wrenched itself away. Then he stalked the animal as it backed away. Each time the wolf snarled, or growled, he charged at him.
Cowering, the wolf relented. Still Donald pursued him. The cringing animal raised its head, its teeth bared. Donald rushed the beast. Finally, the animal turned tail and took off back into the woods yelping.
He hurried back to Andrea and took her into his arms.
“I’m not hurt,” she said. “Again, you’ve come to my rescue.”
“It is my destiny.” He put his arm around her as they went back to the horses.
“We must leave. This wolf was old and alone. We don’t want him to come back with his friends.”
“Stay close to my side and don’t stop, no matter what you see or hear,” Donald said as they mounted up and raced full out down the trail.
While they rushed through the forest the incident played over in his mind. He was sure the wolf would fulfill the prophecy of the Sword will fail.
Seeing Andrea defenseless, at the animal’s mercy, tore at him. Whatever threatened her would have to get through him first. He would always be there for her, with her, or die trying.
They came out of the forest, the horses lathered and breathing hard. He glanced at Andrea. She was made of strong stuff for certain. Her face showed determination. Out of immediate danger, he slowed from a full gallop to a canter. They continued the ten miles into Calais, stopping only when necessary to briefly rest the horses.
Chapter Thirteen
Donald and Andrea left the horses with Hugh’s man in Calais and made their way to the edge of the town square. The place was alive with activity. From their vantage point the colorful clothes the crowd wore were bright in the fading late afternoon sun. Most of the marketplace stalls were closed and boarded.
There was chatter everywhere between merchants and buyers, old friends meeting, and new friends being made. The square was already crowded and there were more people streaming in from the surrounding lanes.
The air was filled with music, laughter, and the delightful aroma of flowers and sweets. People crushed them as they made room for strolling musicians.
They made their way to the other side of the square where tables were set filled with casks of wine.
“It’s the unofficial Battle of the Wines.” Donald bent close to her to be heard over the noise. “The winning winery has the honor of paying for all the wine.”
“That doesn’t sound like a prize.”
“It is to the winery. The price of their wine goes up along with the number of orders. Then there is the prestige. The winery’s mark is added to the scroll in the town hall.”
Struggling to stay together, they finally reached the boulevard and crossed the basin that would take them to the harbor. There were a few people there, but not nearly as many as in the square. Ship masts came into view above the buildings.
“Can you tell if Hugh’s ship is here?” Andrea asked as they made their way along the dock.
“It’s the one at the end.” He nodded toward the
