Wildewood Revenge by B.A. Morton

then maybe I’ll ask for his help. P erhaps he will take me home,” Grace replied defiantly.
    “Enough!” hissed Miles, “This is neither the time nor the place; if you value your life you will say nothing.” Her eyes widened and she snapped her mouth shut. He prayed she would keep it that way, for all their sakes .
     

    Chapter Ten
     
    “Good day , travellers,” called the leader as he drew his band of men to a shuddering halt, mere feet away from Miles. His horse danced nervously. The sweat on its flanks spoke of a long, hard ride. The massive beasts milled about pawing the ground with their hooves, froth spraying from their open mouths as they shook their heads and fought the bit.
    Miles stood his ground, hackles rising as he eyed the man who leered at him from atop the nightmarish beast. Grace opened her mouth to announce herself, he caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, but before he could take action to prevent it, the horses wheeled about and the two at the rear almost knocked her from his grasp.
    The shock of the near-miss with the horses was nothing however compared to her reaction when she caught sight of the bodies slung across their backs. Men crudely bound with rough rope, their swollen tongues protruding hideously from their mouths. Eyes stared blankly from ashen faces and blood still oozed from their slit throats. She closed her mouth with a snap, and backed straight into his arms. He held her steady, absorbed her shock and turned back to the sheriff.
    “Good day to you, sheriff,” he replied as he edged back a little. The man encroached upon their space and Miles did not appreciate it. He was at a disadvantage stood as he was while the sheriff was mounted. He would stand a poor chance of defence from the sheriff’s sword should he choose to wield it, while he had Grace attached to him like a lim pet.  “You have travelled far. What brings you to this God- forsaken place?”
    The sheriff circled the group as he attempted to satisfy his curiosity. “I am in search of law breakers. H ave you had sight of any Scotsmen on your journey?”
    Miles shook his head, glanced at the bodies and his stomach clenched. He tightened his grip on Grace and willed her to be silent. They were after Scots rustlers not missing nuns, and the Scots could look after themselves, and yet, the man seemed determined in his efforts to get a look at Grace.
    “You should not linger here, Sir, it is not safe.” The sheriff yanked viciously at the reins and the horse fought the bit angrily, wheeling ever closer. “There are villains abroad and another storm is brewing. Where are you and your good lady headed?” He leaned down from the saddle for a closer look.
    Grace balked at the sight of his florid, pockmarked features, the spittle spraying liberally from between flaccid jowls and broken black teeth. Miles felt her fear. He contained the quivers which shook her slight frame, within his embrace.
    “We look for somewhere to break our journey,” said Miles, he did not care to mention Wildewood . “The lady is unwell and the pony is lame.” He tightened his arm around Grace’s shoulders and prayed she would not betray him. To his surprise and relief she executed a perfect swoon and buried her face in his chest with a dramatic gasp. “We must seek shelter,” he added and he turned and lifted Grace onto the back of his horse. “If you will excuse us , we will take our leave.” He swung up behind her and taking the pony’s reins from Edmund he gestured at him to follow on foot.
    “But surely you do not expect that I would leave you out here at the mercy of the weather and the lawless. No , Sir...” said the sheriff with a glint in his eye, “m y men and I will escort you and y our good lady to The Wedder Inn. William Craig will have room, no doubt.”
    He called to one of his men to make room for the boy on the back of his horse and Edmund glanced quickly at Miles. Miles gave the slightest incline of his