Chapter Eight #2
The patch of forest land was open at the edges and became denser the further in we pushed. The light of day was strengthening as we entered yet, within a very few moments, it was hard to see where we were going, so close-packed were the trees.
'Dismount,' Hugh ordered as if he was the Captain of a troop of the King's Horse and I was one of his soldiers.
He watched as I very gingerly lifted my leg over the rump of the horse and slid to the ground.
My legs wobbled when my feet touched the thick leaf mould, but it was that other much more prominent part of me that was causing me most grief at that time, and I was disinclined to rub there with a man watching.
I had no need to worry. Reaching behind him, Hugh furiously massaged his behind. 'I don't know about you,' he said with a grin that I could see even in the shade of the forest, 'but riding bareback really makes me sore.'
'Me too,' I found it easy to match his grin, 'I don't think I will sit comfortably for a week.'
There was something very reassuring about being with a man who was open about his weaknesses and I was much more relaxed about rubbing my own tender parts. 'I will wager that I have matching bruises on both sides,' I said more than I intended, and far more than my mother would ever have approved.
Hugh cut off his laugh. 'I will be the same,' he said. Mercifully, he did not ask if he could check, as some of the boys of the Lethan would have, nor look the other way in tongue-tied embarrassment as Robert would do.
'Now.' He cut lengths of grass, tied them together and created effective hobbles for the horses. 'We will let them graze and hope that if they are seen they look like wild beasts rather than Armstrong mounts.' He smiled. 'They were probably stolen from somewhere else in the first place.'
'I will call mine Kailzie,' I said, 'after a place I know well.'
'Kailzie she is, now and henceforth,' Hugh agreed solemnly.
I watched him work. The morning light was strengthening but in the gloom between these thick trees, I still had no clear idea about his looks. I wished to see this man who was so ugly that he thought women would only speak to him because they wanted his lands.
'First things first,' he said. 'I have to find a tree and no doubt you will too. I will head right, and I suggest you go left.' He moved away, stopping in the shade. 'Watch for the snakes.'
'Are there snakes here?' I asked.
'Not many,' Hugh replied quickly. 'The dragons killed them all.' His laugh was short and cheerful.
There was a small burn running through the forest, chuckling brown and friendly, with small pools and a number of miniature waterfalls.
Hugh lay on his face beside one of the pools and slowly inserted his arms. A few moments later he flicked them out, holding a fat trout. He grinned over his shoulder to me.
'That's a good start, I think.'
'A very good start,' I agreed as he quickly put the fish out of its misery and slid his arms back into the water. 'Why don't you see if there are any brambles?'
I obeyed without question, which was highly unusual for me.
There were a number of blackberry bushes on the outer fringes of the forest, with those on the southern side heavy with berries.
I picked some docken leaves to carry them in, added a few very late and overripe raspberries for good measure and returned to the fishing pool to find the trout already gutted. Hugh was searching for dry wood.
'I'll start a cooking fire while you prepare the berries,' he said. 'It will only be a small fire in case the smoke alerts the Armstrongs.' He kept his back turned all the time, as if ashamed to show his face in the dappled light.
'Hugh,' I said at length. 'Face me.'
There was a long pause as he pretended to concentrate on his sticks.
'Hugh,' I said softly. 'You can't hide forever.' I felt the beating of my heart, as if I was in the company of some horned monster, or a Veitch, perhaps.
'As you wish, Jeannie,' he said eventually and stood up and turned around.
He was filthy and highly scented, as would anybody be after a long incarceration in a dungeon, and his face was bristled with a beard I judged to be three weeks in the making.
Auburn hair curled past his ears to the level of his neck, unwashed and rank with sweat, speckled with straw and dirt from the dungeon.
Yet for all that, there was nothing unattractive about him.
Or there was nothing that I found unattractive.
What other woman thought was completely irrelevant.
I held out my hand. 'Thank you for getting me out of that dungeon.'
He stepped closer, his eyes busy on my face. 'Thank you for getting me out of my chains.' He took my hand.
His grip was strong, yet gentle, with a hint of unleashed force.
'Who told you that you were ugly?' I asked.
'I have always known it,' he said.
I scanned his face. Nobody could ever call him classically handsome and he was certainly no Greek God.
He had a broad forehead, filthy under his matted hair, and a pug nose above a mouth that the uncharitable could have said was a trifle too large.
I preferred to think it was generous. High cheekbones only accentuated a pair of the steadiest grey eyes I had ever seen.
'Somebody must have told you,' I said quietly. 'In the Lethan Valley, all the boys boast of how handsome they are and how good they are at everything. Each one must be better than his neighbour at everything.'
'That is often the case,' Hugh said solemnly. 'If somebody were to catch a dragon, his neighbour would produce a box to put it in.'
'You do like your dragons, don't you?' I teased him.
'The constant companions of my youth,' he said.
I nodded. I did not have to ask why he had chosen dragons as his companions; all children need friends and I somehow knew that ugly Hugh's had been in limited supply.
'You were an outsider,' I guessed. 'If you were from Faladale I would know of you, so you…'
'I was not brought up in Faladale,' Hugh confirmed quickly. 'I was not wanted there. Or anywhere.' He looked away. 'I don't know why I said that.'
The pain in him was obvious. 'There will be many women who want you now,' I said truthfully, 'and not for your lands, either.
I take it you gained them by inheritance?
' I did not know why I asked such questions.
Nor did I know why he answered them so openly.
Most men of the Lethan lied out of habit; this man was very different.
'My father and uncle died of some fever.
I was next in line. I did not even know I was entitled.
' Hugh lowered himself to all fours and blew life into the fire.
Wisps of smoke rose. 'If we are lucky, then there will be a mist to conceal the smoke.
' When he looked up there was worry behind the humour in his eyes.
I knew I would not find out any more. It was time to change the subject and lighten the mood. 'I rather like dragons,' I told him.
There was relief in his smile. 'Have you seen many?'
'Oh, the Lethan is full of them,' I said. 'We can hardly move for the things.'
'I will have to visit sometime,' Hugh told me solemnly.
'A handsome man like you would always be welcome,' I said quietly.
'If he was like me, then he would not be handsome,' Hugh's smile was obviously forced.
I held those remarkably clear eyes. 'Whoever told you that you were ugly was lying,' I said softly.
Hugh said nothing. He took a flat stone from the burn and placed it on the fire with both trout on top. 'This will be ready shortly.'
I did not leave the subject. 'Send the liars to me,' I said, 'and I will tell them myself.'
His eyes met mine. 'I rather think you would, at that,' he said.
'If I was not spoken for,' I said softly, 'I would say more.' I could not add to that; I did not understand the feelings that were building up within me.
Hugh found another water-smoothed stone in the burn, placed a trout on top and handed it over. 'Not very elegant,' he said, 'fingers only.'
I tasted it. 'It is perfect,' I told him.
'It is burned,' Hugh said.
'It is not,' I denied. And it was not. A few moments later I licked the last of the fish from my fingers. Hugh was watching me through a fringe of auburn hair. When I met his gaze, he looked away.
'Best get some sleep,' he said. 'We have to get out of Tarras tonight and the Armstrongs will be looking for us.'
I had not realised how tired I was until I lay down beside a tree and woke up some hours later.
I stretched, wondered why I ached in every muscle in my body and decided to stop stretching.
Instead, I pushed myself to my feet and looked around.
The light was beginning to fade into that deliciously sombre golden autumn glow, enhanced by the dead leaves that were falling from the trees.
Everything was peaceful, with the scent of damp earth and faded flowers, a slight wind wafting through waving branches and the gentle gurgle of the burn.
I was hungry, so finished the last of the blackberries and found a sliver of meat on Hugh's trout. I also realised that I was extremely dirty. Well, there was a simple solution to that; wash in the burn. That raised one problem: where was Hugh?
He was nowhere near the camp, and the horses were unattended.
They had not wandered far during the day and grazed happily at the side of the burn.
I decided that he had either gone to seek more food or was scouting our route for the night.
So much had happened the last few days that my head was in turmoil.
I needed some time to think and somehow, I knew that we did not have much time.
Eventually, the Armstrongs would tighten the noose, quite literally too.
First things first, I had to get washed and get the muck out of my hair.