As the Executioner Knights lay in wait, the Scots entered the forest.
From what Cole could see, there were only five or six Scots walking along with the wagons. The man with the dark beard was walking with them, unfortunately for him, close to the wagon containing Corisande and Gaia. Cole looked at Addax and Essien and indicated that he would be the one to take out the man with the beard and silently instructing Essien to jump onto the wagon bench of Corisande and Gaia’s wagon. When the attack started and the alarm was raised, he wanted that wagon to be charging out of the trees and far away from any fighting that would occur.
Essien understood that.
The anticipation grew.
The wagons traveled deeper into the forest, including the one carrying Corisande and Gaia. Cole watched with concern because the women were embracing. He thought that Corisande might even be weeping, but he couldn’t be sure. Nearly frantic to get to her, his gaze sought out Alexander’s, back behind a rather large tree, and Alexander finally gave the signal to move out.
Everybody swept in.
Cole moved fast for a big man. He ran up behind the man with the dark beard before the man could even turn to look at him. Grabbing him by the hair, he dragged his dagger across the man’s throat, slitting it so deeply that he nearly decapitated him. Kress and Achilles were on top of two Scotsmen who tried to put up a fight, but they could hardly get their swords up before they were having their throats cut. Everyone was going for the throat to prevent the men from crying out and alerting the thousands of Scots in the encampment.
No sound, no witnesses.
As the bodies were already falling away, Essien leapt onto the wagon bench. The wagon was being driven by a de Bourne soldier, but Essien yanked away the reins and frightened the horses into a run. The wagon zinged past Cole, who didn’t even have time to say a word to Corisande. He watched her as the wagon headed towards the main road that would take them to the Ord Crossing, but all he could do was watch. She was being taken to safety and that was all he cared about.
Behind him, Addax had taken care of another Scotsman while Alexander and Bric had managed to take care of the rest. Peter and Dashiell were urging the English who were walking to jump into the wagons, which were then driven off in a rush.
As quickly as the ambush started, it was over.
Miraculously, the Scots encampment hadn’t been alerted yet. The ambush had taken place deeper in the trees so that any odd sounds were muffled, and there wasn’t an onslaught of angry Scots rushing them now. Cole and the others raced back to the horses and, quickly mounting, followed the wagons as they thundered from the trees.
Finally, they were free.
Cole was able to catch up with the wagon that held Corisande and Gaia. The women were holding on to the sides of the wagon for dear life, but Corisande caught sight of Cole and her features crumpled. He could see the tears. They couldn’t stop until they were over the bridge and back with the English encampment to the south, so all he could do was blow kisses at her as she wept.
It was absolutely heartbreaking.
He desperately wanted to hold her.
Over the bridge, the wagons roared, finally into England. It wasn’t a short ride, by any means, and took a couple of hours to reach their destination south of Berwick. They did slow the pace once they got into England, however, but they still wanted to reach the bulk of the army quickly, purely for safety reasons. They followed the road that curved around, following the bend in the River Tweed, and headed south where the armies had set up an encampment.
What they found when they came into sight of the encampment, however, was more armies than ever before.
Richmond had arrived.
The Richmond Castle garrison was the largest Marshal garrison in the north and there were at least three thousand men, all of them moving to the east towards the mouth of the River Tweed. The fog was lifting, burning off as the sun rose, and the landscape was laid open. The main encampment was visible in the fields to the south, with smoke from dozens of cooking fires spiraling into the air.
Since the pace was slower now and Alexander had called the wagons to a walk for the rest of the way, Cole directed his steed next to Corisande and plucked her right out of the wagon.
They came together in a clash of warmth and fabric, mail and hair. Her hair was all over him as she squeezed him around the neck, so tightly that she was nearly strangling him, but he’d never been so happy to be strangled. It was relief beyond measure for them both. Cole could hear her weeping softly against him and he let go of the reins so he could hold her with both arms. As Drago plodded along, weary from the run to and from Scotland, Cole pulled Corisande away from him so he could get a close look at her.
“Let me see you,” he said, his voice tight with emotion. “Are you well, love? Did they hurt you?”
Corisande shook her head. “They did not hurt me,” she said. “I am well.”
He was looking her over carefully – her face, her neck, her head – as if he didn’t believe her. He was touching, stroking, to make sure she was real. “Are you certain?”
“I am certain.”
He let out a sigh that nearly deflated his entire body. “Thank God,” he muttered. “Cori, I was so terrified that… it does not matter. Thank God you are well. That is all I care about.”
Corisande nodded again, kissing him as he returned her kisses furiously. He was just so grateful that he ended up glancing up to the sky in a silent prayer of thanks as she buried her face in his neck. Finally, she was safe, exactly where he wanted her. But as he held her and gave thanks, he noticed a little, blonde head in the wagon bed.
He found himself looking down at Gaia.
“And you, my lady?” he asked, lifting his voice. “Are you well?”
Gaia had been watching their reunion very carefully, studying every movement, every kiss. There was something wistful in her eyes.
But she nodded her head.
“I am well,” she said. “I am not injured.”
He smiled faintly at her. “That is excellent news,” he said. “God be praised that you are both safe.”
Gaia smiled weakly, watching Cole and Corisande a moment longer before looking away. She seemed sad, and dazed, and Cole attributed that to the situation they had just been rescued from. He didn’t give it another thought. He was just so grateful that he had Corisande in his arms that he really didn’t think about anything else. They rode the rest of the way to the encampment where Alastor, Ares, Atlas, and Anteaus were waiting.
Alastor scooped Gaia out of the wagon bed, hugging his youngest child tightly. Though Cole was reluctant to let her go, for necessity’s sake, he had to lower Corisande into Ares’ waiting arms. Dismounting, he handed Drago over to a squire and immediately took Corisande back into his embrace in front of her brothers and father. He didn’t even care that they were present with his unbridled display of relief and affection.
If they had a problem with it, then he invited them to say so.
He had an answer ready.
“Are you well, Cori?” Alastor asked her, Gaia still in his arms. “Did they hurt you, lass?”
Corisande shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “I am not injured.”
“Are you certain?”
“I am certain.”
“What happened?” he asked. “Can you at least tell us that?”