Dream of Me/Believe in Me

thoughts of killing Udell.
    H ES GONE WHERE? KRYSTA ASKED. SHE STARED AT Eahlswith in bewilderment. What was this the queen had just told her? Hawk gone after Udell and without a word to her? That could not be.
    “He left at midday,” Eahlswith repeated. She looked at Krysta sympathetically. “I know you are surprised but this is how men are. I cannot count the number of times Alfred marched to battle without saying a word to me.”
    She must still be asleep and dreaming, Krysta thought. That had to be it. Whatever the king had done, Hawk would not leave her like this. He would at least tell her he was going, reassure her all would be well, kiss away her fears and—
    Oh, lord, no wonder the man preferred to sneak off. How could he possibly want to be saddled with her worry when he needed to turn his mind to the task at hand?
    Yet she was still shocked by his sudden absence, and vaguely hurt. Her resentment faded as the day wore onand she was left with only worry. She was well aware of Eahlswith doing her best to draw her into the circle of ladies and so distract her that she would not think overmuch of Hawk. Not more than with every other heartbeat, rather than with each and every one. A hundred or more times she told herself he was the most feared warrior in all of England, leader of the most renowned army, his skills long honed in battle and fortified by keen intelligence. Beside him, Udell was no more than vermin. But even vermin could get lucky. Victory came as much by chance as by strength.
    When she could no longer contain herself, she murmured apologies and slipped away to the little church near the scriptorium. There she went on her knees to pray long and earnestly that God in His mercy would shine His light on Hawk and cast his enemies into darkness. She prayed heedless of the young priests who moved about quietly, lighting the tall candles and singing the offices of the day. Only when she realized that they were singing complines did she return to any sense of passing time. She had come at nones when the sun was high above the tops of the trees, and it was now the hour before sleep. In between, the soaring peace of vespers had slipped past without her notice. Slowly, she rose on legs that seemed scarcely able to hold her. Her body was stiff and sore from her vigil but the balm of peace had flowed over her heart. For that, she was deeply grateful.
    Outside in the cool night air, Krysta paused for a few moments to look at the stars. Was it merely a fancy of her mind to wonder if Hawk might be looking at them, too? How desperately she wished that she might reach out and touch one of the sparkling lights against the deep velvet black sky and in the doing, touch him as well.
    She was sighing, wondering how she would ever sleep alone, when a shadow moved around the corner of the church. She had only a moment to wonder who it mightbe before a hand slammed down hard over her mouth and a powerful arm closed around her waist, yanking her off her feet.
    “Bitch,” the voice hissed in her ear. “Did you truly think you could challenge me and not pay?”
    Terror roared through Krysta. She kicked out frantically and tried to sink her teeth into the hand over her mouth. For her trouble, she was hurled to the ground so hard that the air was knocked from her. Her arms were pulled behind her and roughly tied. As she tried to regain her feet, she was flung down again and her ankles roped together.
    “Quickly,” Udell ordered, his voice thick and harsh. Hard hands lifted her. She was carried away into darkness.

Chapter SEVENTEEN

    H AWK TURNED HIS MOUNT IN A TIGHT circle, carefully examining the marks on the moist ground and the signs told by broken branches. A large group on horses had passed that way just hours before and done so in great haste. Not far away, near where the road forked, a bundle lay dropped as though fallen from a saddle. One of his lieutenants opened it and with a laugh, drew out a lady's mantle. He shook it free and held it up for all to see. The back was elaborately embroidered with a garishly large butterfly done almost entirely in gold.
    “I never thought I'd say this,” Hawk declared, “but I'm glad of the Lady Esa's unique taste in garments.”
    Thus assured, they continued on the right track, the force moved quickly. Within the hour, Hawk was certain they were closing in on the Mercians. The droppings left by their horses were that fresh. He nodded grimly as he saw they were heading