As she started to scramble to her feet, she said, “Yes, of course, but shouldn’t we also bring Lady Cecily? She’s the healer.”
He offered a giant hand to help her up. “Someone’s already gone to find her, my lady. Please, we ought to hurry.”
“How far?”
“Not very. Just in the woods past the western fields.” He started to walk, assuming that she’d follow in his wake. She cast about briefly, confused about whether she ought to take anything, and if so what. She ended up bundling several things in a sewing basket, but she was far too distracted to know if she was bringing the right things. She didn’t even know how Goswin got hurt.
Angelet hurried to catch up to the big man. “What happened? Did he break a bone? Is he bleeding? It’s not his head, is it?” she asked fearfully.
“Not sure,” the man said. It was hard to hear him, since he spoke so quietly and also because he was facing the woods, not her. “He asked for you.”
That didn’t clarify much, but at least it meant Goswin was conscious. She kept up the pace set by the big man, though it meant that she was nearly breathless by the time they crossed the fields to the fringe of the woods.
“Wait. A moment,” she gasped, putting her hand against a tree trunk. “I need to rest.”
The man stopped abruptly, looking back at her, then at Cleobury. “Yes, a moment. But we can’t waste time, my lady.”
“No,” she agreed. “It’s just that I was hurt too, not long ago. I’m not supposed to…” She stopped talking, gasping again.
“Just breathe,” the man said, looking alarmed. “They didn’t say you were so weak.”
“Who said?”
He gave a shrug. “Everyone, my lady. People talk. No offense meant.”
She closed her eyes, trying to get her breathing back to normal. “I’m better now…what’s your name?”
“Ulmar,” he said.
“Very well, Ulmar. We can go on.”
The man-at-arms looked rather uncertain, but he nodded and turned to keep walking. “Follow me. It’s not far.”
They went a bit slower through the woods, but Angelet thought they’d reach Goswin soon, and instead Ulmar just kept walking. She also expected to hear voices—boys shouting, perhaps. Or running to see when help would come.
“Where is he?” she asked.
“Not far. Almost there.” Ulmar slowed his pace to let her catch up, then took her by the elbow. “Just a little further.”
Something made her hesitate, and she stopped in her tracks. “This is too far.”
Ulmar’s grip tightened. “Sorry, my lady.”
She tried to pull away, but there wasn’t much she could do against a guard twice her size. “Let me go,” she said. Her heart sped up, and she could feel the pricks of pain in her chest from the exertion.
“Can’t do that, my lady.” Ulmar’s voice was still soft. “Orders.”
“Whose orders? Where’s Goswin?”
“He’s got him,” Ulmar said. “Lord Ernald. So you see, my lady, the boy does need you. Ernald will hurt him if you don’t arrive soon.”
Angelet swallowed, tasting a metallic bitterness in her mouth as her limbs shook in fear. She took a deeper breath, then tried to run. She had to get back to Cleobury.
She made it about twenty paces. And only that far because Ulmar stumbled on a tree root for a moment. But he gained on her immediately, and she screamed when he grabbed her by the arm.
Ulmar jerked her toward him, swinging her body to his and muffling her mouth with a big hand. “Don’t scream, my lady. Won’t do a bit of good. You’re too far from the manor and no one will hear.”
She struggled for a moment, but already her lungs protested. She slumped in defeat.
