A clamor of rooks exploded through the trees, nearly drowning out the woman’s scream.
Morgan’ head jerked up, his mouth quirking into a grim smile. At last! Trouble. It had been a boring patrol thus far. He put his heels to Arnicus’ flanks and the big grey gelding quickened its pace along the narrow trail. The raucous calls of the birds faded as they flapped off. A watchful silence overtook the woods, broken only by the thud of Arnicus’ hooves on the summer-dry earth.
Morgan scanned the undergrowth for the source of that cry. There was no good reason why a lady, screaming or otherwise, should be in the middle of the King’s forest. But whatever the reason, he had to find her. Help her, if possible. Avenge her, if not. He’d never been one to shy away from trouble. No soldier was, or he didn’t remain a solider for long.