Lynn Kurland by The Traveller

Author:The Traveller
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-11-25T23:56:26+00:00

seven

William stood in the shadows of the trees and looked at the keep before him. He realized with wry amusement that he'd stood in the same place the day before, staring in much the same way, but with far different thoughts. He'd wanted his keep, to be certain, but he'd been driven to action by thoughts of the manly comforts of a warm fire, a well-manned garrison, and lists for his pleasure.

Odd how the passage of a single day could change a heart so.

He still wanted his keep, of course, and lists for himself and his garrison, but added to that was the thought of hearth and home for a wife and children—one wife in particular, that is.

He eased back into the forest and made his way silently around the perimeter of the castle, making a mental note to clear more trees when the keep was finally his. 'Twas far too easy for an enemy to hide himself in such substantial growth, even if William found himself obliged a time or two to crawl on his belly to take advantage of the cover of smaller bushes and things.

He crept around to the back of the keep and waited for a goodly while to make certain there was no stray guard haunting the walls. He saw no movement, but that didn't satisfy him. He had a very good reason to keep himself alive, and he suspected that reason would be passing angry with him if he left her stranded with Peter and the priest. He tightened the strap that bound his sword to his back and felt himself begin to smile in spite of the seriousness of his situation. By the saints, the woman was fascinating.

Not only was she looking more beautiful to him by the heartbeat, but she could read.

Perhaps she had learned that in the Future as well.

By the saints, he could scarce fathom such a thing as a body traveling from another time. But he could fathom her in his bed, next to him at supper and bearing him a dozen children with riotous hair and eyes so blue they would hurt a man to look in them.

And if he could hope for the latter, perhaps he could believe the former.

All of which left him where he was at present—preparing to scale his own walls and rid his keep of his unwelcome and certainly uninvited guests so he could proceed with the rest of his life.

He sighed deeply and steeled himself for what was to come. It would have been easier with a ladder, or a rope for that matter, but those things came with the price of possible discovery, which he was unwilling to pay. He would have to find what finger- and toeholds he could, and pray his eyes had told him true that such things actually existed on the scarred outer walls. He had exceptionally strong hands, which was a boon, and his boots were worn clear through to the toes, which was also a boon at present.

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