The Verderer?!?

"Good God! In the King's name, stand clear of the lass." The Verderer's deep baritone filled the silence of the room and Christine craned her neck in the stocks to confirm it was really the handsome forester. "Get her out of that." The Verderer's tone was firm and carried the expectation of being obeyed. It was much like what her father had tried to teach her. With a creak, the upper bar of the stocks lifted off her neck and wrists and she was able to stand upright for the first time in hours. The Verderer's eyes swept over her nude body, but with kindness, not lust.

"Are you unharmed, Miss Evelyn?"

Was she? After the shock of Bishop Anthryl's lechery and the trauma of being groped like a Christmas goose, Christine didn't know how to answer. Luckily, the Verderer had a pretty good idea of what he might find in the cellar under Lady Scarlett's establishment and tossed an old tunic to her so she could dress. Before she could answer, the man turned to Scarlett's henchmen and placed his hand on the pommel of his sword.

"I'm taking this girl." There was no equivocation in the Verderer's voice. "Tell your Mistress that if she has a problem with that, she can make her appeal directly to the King." He then turned back to her and took in the tears that had started flowing from her eyes.

"Easy, my lady." The Verderer seemed unsure what to do with the sobbing woman, "We're getting you out of here as soon as you are dressed." At the mention of her lack of clothing, Christine pulled herself together and hurriedly stepped into the tunic and started pulling it up over her legs.

She could only imagine what this good man must think; to find her here in a whore house and completely naked at that. It took her a while, but she realized that her rescuer was no longer speaking or even moving.

The Verderer realize too late that he was staring at the Lady Christine, distracted by the sight of her nakedness as she awkwardly stepped into the rough tunic. The poor young woman was clearly disoriented by the horrors that she had undergone, her tear-streaked face was smudged with dirt and her hair a messy tangle, but to him she was as beautiful as he remembered from their first encounter in the forest. More times than he was comfortable to admit, Werner had caught himself thinking about the pretty maid he had freed from the groping hands of the lawless trio in the King's Forests. He should have gone with her to see this Merthin of Gold Street; if he had, he might have saved her from this horror.

When young Erik had showed up at his house, he had been surprised and skeptical, but as the lad had poured out his sad story Werner knew he had to act. Even if this poor refugee hadn't been young and beautiful and innocent, he would have had to get involved. He owed it to her now dead brother, Sir Godfrey. Baron Gerard's lands were on the Western border of the King's Forest and Werner had ridden patrols with the Baron's older son dozens of times. More than a half dozen years ago he had gotten to know Sir Godfrey quite well and was genuinely sorry to hear of his untimely ****.

To hear from the young lad how their respected family had been victimized first by the Bastard Prince, then the greedy Notary and finally by this brothel Madam was more than Werner could take. Now here she was, still just stepping into the old tunic he brought. It was all he could do to turn away while she dressed but he did not want to stay here any longer than he had to, so he coughed softly to hurry the poor young woman. He knew too well how the local brothels preyed on young women, judging by where he found her and the haunted look in the young noblewoman's eyes, he could only imagine that this innocent maiden did not willingly go along with Scarlett's plans for her.

Even after she had pulled on the threadbare tunic, Christine realized just how poorly the linen rag covered her flesh. She pulled frantically at the lacing trying to close the gap in the tunic her face getting redder and redder. Even though just a few minutes ago she had been stripped and groped by the Scarlett's guardsmen, this was far more embarrassing, those men had been coarse strangers, the Verderer was ... well she didn't know what he was, but other than perhaps her father, she could think of no man she would rather be rescued by.

"We must go, Miss Evelyn." And perhaps as aware as she was at how little the ragged tunic did to cover her filthy body, Master Werner took off his cloak and handed the woolen garment to the barely dressed young maiden. "I have to get you somewhere safe until we can figure out what your next steps might be."