The Shielded Heart

Though they’d been lucky so far. Anna had escaped abduction, only some of her men had been killed, and they had vanquished their foe—for the nonce. Much of their success was due to Anna’s guards. William had trained his men well; they were efficient fighters. He doubted that the grizzled captain had learned his craft in this remote backwater of the Marches. But whatever drew him here, ’twas to Anna’s benefit to have him lead her escort.

It wasn’t William’s fault she’d nearly been taken, Swen thought as he settled her beside the fire. Despite the fact that he’d been busy, he’d noticed her roaming about the clearing as the battle progressed. He was certain the older man had told her to keep away from the fighting. She shouldn’t have been there.

Though who could say she’d have been any safer in her tent?

If she’d been abducted from there, the farthest edge of the camp, they’d not have seen or heard a sound if she’d called for them.

He sat down next to her. “What happened back there?” Fingers tingling in anticipation, Swen reached to move her unruly curls out of the way. Her hair was so soft…

She turned slightly away from him to allow him better access to the lump. “The man lay hidden in the bushes.” She winced as he drew a finger over the bruise. “He grabbed me by the ankle and pulled me to the ground.”

“How did you get away?”

Her breath escaped in a hiss when he blotted the blood from the swelling. Surprisingly, she chuckled. “I hit him in the head with a rock—the one you used as a hammer.”

“So you gave him a bruise to match yours,” Swen said with a smile.

Her answering smile was so fleeting, he wondered if he’d imagined it. “Nay, it did naught but dent his helm. But when I kicked him in the face he released me at once and ran away.” She reached up and captured his hand in hers, bringing it to rest briefly against her cheek. “’Twas what he said that frightened me worse than being held down,” she added, frowning. “He told me he was to take me captive, but he must not harm me—” she met his gaze, her own steady “—in any way. Though he wanted to. But ’twas worth too much to him to keep me safe. Someone is willing to pay very well to gain my services, it seems.”

Swen tightened his grip on her hand, then released it. “Don’t be afraid,” he told her. “Do you imagine William would permit any harm to come to you? Especially after tonight’s events?”

“This is all too much to consider. That my guards laid down their lives for me…” She shuddered and wrapped her arms about herself. “It’s not right. They shouldn’t be at risk because of me. I only wish to do my work, without interruption, to the best of my ability, for the abbot keeps me busy with commissions. I don’t have time to worry about whether someone will try to take me from Murat. I’ve too much to do.”

Was her work so important? He knew he was ignorant about many things, especially life here in the south. A man who could fight and protect his family, or who could provide well for his loved ones through his skill in trading—those were talents of great value in his world.

And they were occupations for men. He’d never met a woman whose worth was not tied to her beauty, her family bonds or her dower. Anna de Limoges must create objects of great importance to be so valuable herself.

Despite the roaring fire, Anna continued to shiver. Swen looked around and spied his cloak where he’d tossed it aside earlier. He retrieved it from the ground and, after shaking it out, draped it around Anna’s shoulders.

She snuggled into the heavy fabric with a murmured word of thanks. He drew the fur-lined hood up around her neck, his fingers lingering to stroke along her cheekbone.

He’d been right earlier when he’d likened her skin to silk—soft and smooth to the touch, sending a shiver of awareness over his own skin before he forced himself to back away. “Does the cloak help?”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

One of the guards brought them a trencher of bread and cheese and a wineskin. Anna picked at the food, her thoughts clearly elsewhere. She looked troubled, tired, and her face had not lost its pallor.

What could he do for her? he wondered, for her uneasiness weighed heavily upon him.

“Mistress Anna, don’t feel you must stay here on my account,” he said. “You’re weary, and dawn will arrive before you’ve had a chance to get much rest. Come, let me escort you to your tent.”

Her eyes grew round. “I don’t wish to be alone.”

“I’ll guard you myself. No harm will come to either of us, I promise you. Who would be mad enough to attack me?” he added with a grin, patting the hilt of his dagger.

Her answering smile was faint, but beautiful. He rose and helped her to her feet. “William,” he called, “Mistress Anna is retiring to her tent.”

The captain turned, set aside an ale horn and joined them, bending to kindle a torch in the leaping flames. “Get some rest, lass. ‘Tis the best thing for you.”

William went into the tent first, sword at the ready, and lit a lamp. “Come, lass,” he said, opening a bundle of furs and spreading them on the ground. “You look ready to swoon. Sit you down before you fall.”

Swen held back the door flap and led her into the tent. “I told her I would stand guard,” he said. “She is concerned that her attacker might return with more men.”

“Aye, ‘tis a good idea. There’s not enough of us left to sleep in shifts. We’ll all stay awake for what’s left of the night.” He gazed at Anna, curled up in the furs. “All except you. You might as well sleep, if you can.”

She nodded, though Swen didn’t believe for a moment that she’d rest. He could see too many questions in her amber eyes. But she’d stay put in the tent.

He’d see to it himself, if need be.

“Good night, milady.” He raised her hand to his lips. As he turned to leave her, an image suddenly filled his mind, a picture so vivid and real he felt it like a blow to the heart.

Swen drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly as he willed his feet to carry him a short distance from the tent. He slid his knife from its sheath and leaned back against a tree, letting the knife’s familiar weight soothe him.

He knew now why Anna de Limoges seemed so familiar to him, an awareness he felt deep within his being.

He’d seen her before—many times before.

In his dreams.

Chapter Four (#ulink_7d232514-e41e-5fa5-b385-d9bc2413200b)

By the time the sun began its slow climb into the sky, they’d tended the wounded, bundled the dead onto the pack animals and set off upon the last leg of the journey to the village of Murat.

Anna pulled her cloak high about her chin against the morning chill and fought to remain upright in the saddle. She hadn’t slept at all. Every time she closed her eyes, a confusing melange of images and feelings whirled through her brain.

And no matter how she tried, she could not regain her usual clearheadedness.

Her gaze strayed once again to the broad back of Swen Siwardson as he rode beside William at the head of their motley party. Mayhap she should blame him for her lack of sleep, for she’d felt his presence outside the thin walls of her tent all night.

She had no words for the sensation he evoked. It reminded her of the warmth radiating from a fire, more intense when he was near, lessening with distance.

It was as if some invisible cord bound them together.

He drew her toward him with no effort that she could see, yet like the flames, he tempted her nearer, pulled her toward the heart of the fire.

Anna closed her eyes and sought to clear her mind. Her puzzling reaction to this newcomer in their midst was naught but an aberration. She’d never met his like before, ’twas nothing more than that.

For the remainder of their brief journey, she sought to focus her vision on the brightly garbed trees, to keep her mind fixed with grim determination upon the tasks awaiting her return to the workshop.

Yet it seemed, for the first time in her life, she’d encountered a distraction that made the lure of her craft pale in comparison.

Siwardson’s face appeared before her mind’s eye, his ice-blue gaze intense.

And try though she might, she could not erase the image from her brain.

They reached Murat much sooner than Swen had expected. By his estimation, they’d traveled little more than a league or two from where they’d made camp. But given last night’s attack, he understood why William had stopped. If they’d sought to finish their journey by moonlight, they’d have made an even easier target.

Though Anna had ridden in silence behind him, every time her gaze lit upon him, he felt it as clearly as if she’d reached out and trailed her fingertips along his spine. He’d swear her eyes’ caress had the weight and substance of a physical touch.