Conquer My Heart

Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE

England 1066

The air was crisp, the world smelled clean and new. Lady Briana stopped to draw a long, cool breath and gaze at the vast blue sky and the meadow beyond. Behind her the crunch of frost covered leaves made her shake her head and smile.

Gilford.

Would he never give up? Of late, he had shadowed her wherever she went. If she stopped suddenly, it was likely he would fly right up her arse.

Hunting was her only refuge—her only escape. But this morn she had not been able to give him the slip. The chink and rattle of his mail shirt set her teeth on edge, adding to her distraction. Not that she could lay all the blame at his feet. This morn her heart wasn’t in it—her heart was in Hastings.

Still, the weight of the bow in her hand felt good. It gave her power. It gave her something to do. She could not fight for her people, but she could bring back food. And she could pray. She had gone to the chapel every day since her father left to ask God for his safe return.

And yet, he had not come.

She sucked in a long trembling breath. She would not think of it. He was alive. He had to be. He was the only person in the world she had left.

A slight movement at the edge of the thicket caught her eye. She lifted the bow to her cheek and aimed.

“Fire!”

Briana whirled around; bow in hand, ready to give the squire a sound cuff side the head. “Gilford! What did you do that for? I just about had him! We could have been eating a fat hare this eventide. Instead we’ll be choking down another meal of salt pork.”

“No! Fire, my Lady! ‘Tis coming from the village!”

Her gaze traveled northward to the cluster of thatch roofed dwellings in the distance. Swirls of thick black smoke rose above an orange fiery glow. Even now the smell of ash drifted to her nostrils on the morning breeze, causing her heart to leap. Sweet merciful heaven, don’t let it be him!

She turned to Gilford, forcing a firm authority into her voice. “We must get back.”

His chestnut curls bounced as he shook his head. Then his mouth flattened into a grim line. “Nay, my lady, I must get you to safety.”

Briana barely heard him. She was already slinging her bow over her shoulder. She sprinted to their mounts at the edge of the wood. In one agile leap she was in the saddle, reins in hand.

If they were under attack, the stone keep was their only sanctuary. Fear raced along her spine as they galloped across the valley toward the gleaming white, limed fortress that was her home. Briana had hoped her people would escape the ravages of war in this recent upheaval. She had prayed her father’s loyalty to the recently crowned Harold Godwinson would keep them safe. But the Norman dogs had come.

Her father had marched south to support the king at Hastings. When word of the Saxon defeat had reached them a few days past, she began planning their defense. But she hadn’t thought the invaders would reach them this soon. What chance would she have with only a small number of men-at-arms and the few serfs and villagers who had reached the safety of the keep?

But despite the odds, she knew she must try.

With her father gone she had no choice but to face the enemy alone. Her father had become very powerful in the north. His strong alliances had kept their lands safe. She could not risk losing all he had fought and worked for these many years.

When they reached a grassy summit, they halted their winded mounts. Thick black smoke swirled up from the burning village below, like eerie ghosts. Terrified screams from the villagers prickled up her back to dance along her scalp. A powerful cold dread crept over her. Her best friend, Nyssa, was down there somewhere, running for her life.