Boadicea's Legacy by Traci E. Hall Page B

generous warmth. She didn’t back away from his kiss but welcomed it by throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him back with enthusiasm.
    Sweet Christ
.
    After a few moments, she broke away. He pulled her back, not done tasting the sweetest mouth he’d ever sampled. She struggled in his arms. “Os! Will your horse carry two?”
    â€œAye.” He kissed her eyebrows, the tip of her nose.
    She kissed his mouth, then shook his shoulders. “Let’s get on him, then, afore we’re killed. Here come Thomas’s men.” She pushed against his chest and ran to Bartholomew, hitched up her dress to her bare knees and jumped, pulling herself up by the saddle and tossing one leg over to sit astride.
    My God
.
    â€œOs! Hurry, man, before we’re dead. How is my father? My mother? Let’s circle back and fight. I will show you a shortcut, and we can get swords and axes. Aye, axes,” she said with a bloodthirsty cry of rage and terror.
    Os looked back and saw the reason that a knight was supposed to keep his focus in order to stay alive. Thomas de Havel carried the white and green Montehue flag and was racing for them, followed by at least twenty men. “We can’t stay and fight, Ela. Not this time. Which way to the village—nay, we can’t lead Thomas through there. Which way to a back road?”
    She struggled to jump off Bartholomew’s back, but he held her tight. “I’ll not leave my family to die, coward!”
    â€œNay.” Osbert turned and quelled her with a fierce look that would have had mere men shaking in their boots. “You will retreat and live to fight another day.”
    Ela’s green eyes widened with understanding, and she settled down, her gaze focused on the carnage behind her.“My family home. Thomas is setting fire to the fields. Did you see my father?”
    He grunted and pretended not to hear. Os understood her pain, but he’d made a promise to Lord Robert that he’d not forget. Ela would be safe, or he would die protecting her. There would be no more kisses.

    Ela wiped the tears from her eyes. She hated to cry, but how could she stop? Her parents might be dead, though she didn’t feel the loss in her heart, not as she’d done with her grandmother.
    What could she do? Her grief billowed just as each cloud of dark smoke puffed into the air. Would the villagers stop the blaze before the manor caught fire? The horses, the cows, the gardens, the new crops—all threatened because of Thomas de Havel.
    She vowed vengeance.
    â€œWhy?” She leaned her forehead against Os’s back. “Why did he come to battle? Not because I wouldn’t agree to marry him … that would be stupid. A waste of men.”
    Os was quiet for a while. “He wanted you, if I had to guess, at any cost. Some people will not accept no for an answer.”
    â€œHe didn’t want me.”
    â€œUntil you said nay.” Os slowed Bartholomew to a walk. “Rest, boy. Where is the next village?”
    Ela looked at her surroundings and shifted uncomfortably. She hadn’t realized they’d come so far. “Abberton, Ithink. Where will your men go? Back to Norwich?”
    â€œAye. Albric will lead any survivors home.”
    She shivered. “You don’t think they are all dead, do you?”
    He paused, as if considering. She appreciated that he didn’t just lie. “Nay. The Earl of Norfolk has trained us all well. We fight for him, and he doesn’t hire incompetent knights. Despite the rumors about him, he’s been a fair lord to me. He’s much different than his father.”
    â€œHow did Thomas get so many men?” Her eyes itched from tears and worry. Osbert’s warmth as he sat in front of her made her feel safe.
    â€œMercenaries. Going into battle against an army of paid knights is both good and bad. If they see they are losing, they tend to disappear—but they can be