She staggered to her feet and gazed at her house; she could only stand by helplessly as the flames consumed her home. Her heart felt like a stone inside her. She had loved this house, but with her husband and son gone from this earth, it had been a lasting reminder of the sadness of their deaths. She wept afresh for them and the happy times spent inside its walls, as well as for Marjorie.
‘Why has fate dealt me such agonising blows?’ cried Anna to the skies. ‘Are you punishing me, God?’
No heavenly voice answered her and, frustratingly, the storm clouds had passed, spilling hardly any rain. But where was Will and his accomplice? She could not place any faith in his caring about her safety, but what about his wife? She doubted he would accept that she had tried to save Marjorie. Instead, she was convinced he would use that timely flash of lightning and his wife’s death to strengthen his accusation that Anna was a witch. A chill of fear ran through her. She had to leave here now, in case the two men returned, and ride for her old home at Rowan Manor. Owain and his wife, Kate, had reared her from babyhood and she could trust them to help her.
Fortunately the fire had not spread to the outbuildings and she went in search of her saddle and bridle. On finding them, she paused only long enough to drink some water and pack her belongings in a pair of saddlebags, before hurrying to where her horse was cropping the grass in a nearby field. Nervously, she kept looking over her shoulder. No doubt Will would realise she had survived the flames when he saw that her horse was missing. It was possible that he might even guess her destination and follow her. But hopefully, she would have enough of a head start to manage to escape his clutches. Rowan Manor lay several leagues away; although she felt weary with fear and grief, she prayed that God would have mercy and enable her to reach Owain and Kate before nightfall.
Anna darted a look behind her and thought she caught sight of a lone rider half a mile or so to her rear. Terror caused her heart to jerk within her breast. She could not see him clearly, but was convinced it was Will and wondered what had happened to his accomplice. She had ridden some five leagues along byways and tracks through the Palatine of Chester and her whole body ached after her ordeal. But she was now within a couple of miles of Rowan Manor and urged her palfrey from a canter to a gallop. She was relieved that the sky had cleared and the ground was neither too wet nor too dry, only yielding slightly beneath her horse’s hooves. God willing, she would reach Rowan before Will caught up with her. She whispered encouragement in her horse’s ear and dared to risk another glance behind her.
To her dismay, the rider was now close enough for her to recognise Will’s cadaverous features and tall, bony figure. She told herself that she must not let fear disable her, causing her to lose control of her horse. Ahead lay the crossroads that signalled the turning into the lane that led to Rowan. Once she was within the bounds of Owain’s lands, then most likely there would be men in the fields and she would be safe.
As her horse took the turning, Anna saw too late the sycamore split in half, so that part had fallen and blocked the path. Her horse reared and, despite all her effort to remain in the saddle, she was thrown to the ground. Luckily she landed on grass, but the breath was knocked out of her. The shock of the fall affected her vision so that colours appeared to be washed out of everything. Feeling half-blind, she gasped for breath, scared that her horse would lose its balance and crush her. She forced herself to make the attempt to claw her way out of the reach of its flailing hooves. Then, unexpectedly, she was seized by the back of her cloak and hoisted into the air. Deposited in a sprawling heap in front of a saddlebow, she was aware of the scent of sandalwood and male muskiness. She struggled frantically to gain control of her limbs and get a grip on the horse.
‘Hold tight,’ ordered an unfamiliar, steely voice.
Relieved that it was not Will who had arrived on the scene first, Anna did her best to comply with the man’s order. Still suffering from the effects of her fall, obedience proved difficult; she could feel herself slipping from the beast. Simultaneously, she realised that her rescuer had managed to control her horse. Its front hooves were on the ground; despite a great deal of snorting and blowing from the animal, all this had been accomplished in a matter of moments. But before Anna could catch a proper look at the man, she completely lost her balance and toppled to the ground.
This time she managed to land on her feet. Finally upright, on solid ground, her first thought was for the horse that had been hers since it was a foal. She loved her mare dearly and hastened to comfort her, stroking her nose and whispering soothing words into its flickering ear. So it came as a complete surprise to find herself being seized again from behind. This time she felt as if she was being strangled as she was yanked off her feet and placed face down across a very different horse. She was in no doubt about who dared to mishandle her in such a way.
A hand pressed down on her head and Will snarled, ‘Keep your eyes away from me, witch’s daughter, or it will be the worse for you.’
‘By the Trinity, what do you think you’re doing?’ demanded Anna’s rescuer in a harsh voice. ‘Release her at once or you will taste steel!’
She tried to get to get a glimpse of him, but that proved impossible with Will’s hand crushing her face into his horse’s neck. ‘Keep out of my affairs,’ said Will. ‘This one’s a witch and a murderess, just like her mother, and will burn for her latest foul deed.’
‘It’s not true,’ gasped Anna in a muffled voice.
‘Shut your mouth, madam!’ ordered Will, pressing down harder on her head.
‘Did you not hear me?’ thundered her rescuer. ‘Release her at once, I say.’
‘If you value your life, I suggest you keep out of this,’ warned Will. ‘I repeat, this woman is a witch and she is dangerous.’
‘If that were true, then you should have more sense than to treat her so disgracefully,’ said her rescuer, his tone deceptively soft. ‘I will not ask you again to release her.’
‘Who are you that I should obey such commands?’ sneered Will, reaching for the amulet about his neck. ‘This protects me. Now go before she bewitches you.’
As soon as Anna felt Will remove his hand, she lifted her head so as to see how her rescuer would respond. He had manoeuvred his horse alongside Will’s mount and her first sight of him was of long muscular legs clad in black hose and leather boots, clamped against his horse’s flanks. Raising her eyes, she saw that he sat tall in the saddle. His shoulders were broad beneath a black woollen doublet that was open at the neck to reveal a white shirt and sunburnt throat. A scar snaked down his right cheek, lending a certain harshness to his features. Suddenly she became aware of chilling blue-grey eyes beneath hooded dark brows returning her gaze. Her heart performed a peculiar somersault; there was something familiar about this man. Yet she could not remember where she had seen him before.
Even so she said, ‘Of your courtesy, sir, I beg you not to listen to him. None of what he says is true.’
Her rescuer inclined his dark head. ‘From my experience it is a great mistake to leave women to the mercy of cruel bullies.’
Will flushed with anger. ‘You should not have gazed upon her. Already, she has bewitched you. I tell you that she has bad blood in her. Not only is she a witch, but murdered her husband because she had a lover!’
‘You speak false,’ cried Anna indignantly, digging her gloved fingers into Will’s leg in an attempt to drag herself upright. Instantly he slapped her hand away.
Within seconds her rescuer had seized Will’s wrist and had his knife at his throat. ‘I did warn you,’ he said in an icy tone.
Will’s eyes glinted with fury. ‘You’ll rue this day, for daring to set your will against mine, stranger.’
‘You would be wiser thinking before you open your mouth. First, you threaten a so-called witch and then the man holding a knife to your throat. You will beg the lady’s pardon or I will slit you from ear to ear.’
Her rescuer’s voice reminded Anna of iron encased in velvet and she shivered, despite herself.
‘If