Page 40 of An Earl for the Archeress

Robert shrugged. “He offered, yes, but he’s a lad still. He’ll be busy all the day. No sense making him rise earlier than expected just on my account. It’s not as if my hands are broken, now, are they?”

In spite of the confusing morning and Mariel’s bleary eyes, she smiled. Most lords cared not if their servants were children or adults. If they required service, their staff was expected to hop to attention.

“So you wish me to hunt wild boar with you?” She folded her arms.

John and Robert shared a knowing chuckle.

“Indeed,” John remarked as Will now exited the stable, leading two more saddled horses, one of which was John’s. He took the reins. “The kind with nice pouches of fat at their flanks. They’re ugly to look at, but they’re the tastiest kind with the most abundance to share.”

Will joined in the chuckling as Alan and David emerged from the stable, too. Robert sent a glance around the group. Mariel watched him survey their persons. All were armed, though curiously, John wasn’t carrying his quarterstaff. Tethered to their saddles were several coiled ropes for lashing a boar’s feet, and hunting daggers sheathed at their hips.

The men hoisted themselves into their saddles, though Robert lingered on the ground and eyed Mariel. He hesitated, then he reached to help her mount, but she looked away and checked the girth strap, ensuring her saddle was appropriately fastened. She put a boot in the stirrup and pulled herself up. So far she hadn’t required he coddle her like a lady, and if he thought her good enough to join his men, she certainly shouldn’t expect him to coddle her now.

They trotted the horses to the inner gate, waited for a guardsman to open them, then trotted into the outer yards and continued on toward the main portcullis.

“Good luck on your hunt, my lord,” called down a guardsman manning the barbican, and the cranking of chains ground as the heavy grate was winched up.

“We’ll bring back a fattened beast for all to share at board,” Robert replied.

“We’re looking forward to the treat,” the man replied, to affirmative utterances from the others inside the barbican.

Mariel pondered the exchange. The guard seemed none the wiser to the purpose of their outing, as if they really ventured out to hunt, and yet, mayhap he, too, was speaking in code and his entire estate knew the sort of activity their lord engaged in. Confusion furrowed her brow.

They rode through the massive curtain wall into the rolling fields surrounding the castle walls. The village in the distance was dotted with faint activity as peasants and crofters began to rouse. Robert nodded at everyone he passed, bidding them good morn, as if he had nothing to hide.

“Good day, my lord!” called the woman crofter who had taken Mariel in two nights before.

“Good day!” Robert called back, raising his hand in greeting. “And a better day still when we return with a fresh boar for the table! All will be welcome to eat heartily!”

The woman grinned. “Indeed, best of luck!”

Once beyond the village as they neared the trees, Mariel loped up beside Robert.

“I assume this is William de Wendenal we pursue? How do you know where to find him? I thought at our meeting yesterday, you said he wasn’t planning his next move for a couple of days.”

Robert nodded. “Indeed. Sometimes, when hunting, an opportunity arises unexpectedly, and only a successful hunter will take advantage of it.”

“I know you didn’t really plan a boar hunt.”

“How do you know?” he countered.

“Why wake me for a hunting excursion?”

Robert shrugged. “The guardsman who arrested you said he saw you arrow-shoot a running hare in the dark before going to alert the others on patrol. ’Tis admirable marksmanship that I am going to need today. As you know, hunting requires precision.”

He glanced sidelong at her, his ever-present smile curling his lips up.

“Do your guardsmen also know you do not really hunt? Are they in on your secret scheme?”

“But I do plan a hunt,” Robert replied, flashing a grin.

“Will you stop jesting? Aren’t you worried that your people will figure it out?”

“Figure what out?” Robert shrugged. “When they’re eating greasy, plump smoked pork at board tonight, I assume they’ll figure we had a successful hunt.”

“Do you know how to say anything without your nauseating witticisms?” She huffed.

“What? No roll of the eyes with your complaint?” Robert goaded her.