De Warenne Dynasty 01 - The Conquerer (2 page)

She lay spread before him, and the sight of her pink woman's flesh drove him to the edge. He released her wrists, violently ripping open her bodice, exposing full, lush breasts and a small pouch she wore on a thin chain. The sight momentarily froze him. With a shriek, her nails flew at his face, butRolfe 's reflexes were honed by years of battle, and he caught her hands again, the grip cruel, causing her to cry out.

Already his shaft was huge and thick, straining his hose, ready to burst.Rolfe transferred her hands to one of his, yanking them high over her head, hard, effortlessly, even though she still fought him. And then he was taking a nipple into his mouth.

She began to writhe again. He came down on her, his arms going around her, steel bands, unyielding, and he felt the heat of her against the stiffness of his groin. He pressed against her, grunting with pleasure.

Her sobs mingled with his labored breathing. But that was not what stopped him. It was the sound of galloping destriers. One more moment and he would be deep, so deep, inside her. He was on his feet, his sword battle-ready in hand, in the next scant second.

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"Rolfe, my lord, stop!"

Guyreined in, andRolfe , standing there with blade upraised, was a hair's breadth from killing his best vassal.Guy knew it, for he shouted, "She'sMercia 's sister! Good God, she'sMercia 's sister!"

"What?"

"She'sEdwin 's sister,Rolfe .Edwin and Morcar's sister."

Rolfeturned, stunned, to look at the wench who lay curled up on the ground, the wench he had been an instant from raping. His intended.

Chapter 2

Ceidre crouched panting and shaking in the dirt.

She could still hear the rumble of thunder that was the massive destrier's hoofbeats as the Norman knight had ridden her down. She could still feel the steed's hot breath, and her own terror. She had been inches from being trampled to death, and she had seen theseNormans run down hapless peasants before. This knight, like the others, would have probably done the same to her out of sheer perverted amusement.

SweetSaintCuthbert !

She could still feel his arms around her, arms of steel, holding her hard and fast to the moist brown earth.

And his hands on her womanhood, his mouth on her breast, defiling her. And the heat of his manhood . .

. Mother of God!

She understood the Norman language fairly well, but had been too shaken to comprehend the rapidly fired conversation now occurring. Yet she could not miss her brothers' names, could not miss "Mercia."

She fought to still her trembling, straining to listen, with her face still pressed to the ground.

"God's blood,"Rolfe said, and she knew he was looking at her. "She can't be."

She could feel the heat of his stare, feel the shock of whatever news had been imparted, in the silence now held between him and his man. Sweet Mary, how she hated him!

"I heard it from the villagers," his man said. "'Tis well known. And Aelfgar is not that far from here."

Ceidre tensed at the name of her home. They must know who she was. She slowly sat up, clutching her torn gown together. She fixed him with a stare of intense hatred.

His gaze, cold and vividly blue, held hers. His look darkened and warred with hers. A nerve in his jaw ticked. She could feel his anger now and knew it was directed at her. For what? For her insolence in hating him? For what he had been denied-the rape of her body? Or because he knew who she was?

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He moved. He came to her swiftly. Ceidre started to shrink away, then caught herself and held her ground, raising her chin with defiance. She could feel the thick, unnatural beat of her heart, the cloying terror. He could rape her and then beat her before killing her, but she would not show fear of this man.

But he had seen her initial reaction, and this too displeased him. His anger was a visible thing, darkening his eyes again, and his face.

And then his expression changed. He stopped abruptly, staring.

Ceidre had seen many people look at her the same way, when they first noticed her eye. Surprise, usually, was the initial reaction, then puzzlement, then comprehension and horror. Behind him, she sawGuy draw back. "I'd heard it but I didn't believe it," he whispered nervously, unable to tear his glance from Ceidre. " 'Tis the evil eye."

Rolfe's gaze was riveted upon hers. Ceidre hated the deformity that had haunted her her entire life: Her right eye sometimes wandered away at will. It was not a frequent occurrence; usually it happened only when she was extremely tired, and was only noticeable by those in close proximity. People thought she could gaze in two opposite directions at once-'twasn't true. Strangers who did notice this defect crossed themselves for protection when they saw her "evil" eye and kept well away from her. It had been that way her entire life, since she was a tiny toddler in swaddling. The villagers at Aelfgar, her own people, many her own kin on her mother's side, were long used to her, knew she wasn't evil. Yet that she could heal the sick as her granny did only confirmed their belief that she was a witch. So even her kin were overly aware of her, in awe. Only her brothers, well used to her, seemed entirely indifferent, and Ceidre had long since said prayers of thanks for this blessing. Yet even they were not beyond begging a boon-Morcar had once asked her to bewitch a lass who had been leading him on a merry chase! Now Ceidre flushed, hating this deformity more than she ever had in her entire life-hating being exposed before this man.

His cool blue gaze swept her features one by one, returning finally to her eye. Then he spoke. "She is no witch. She is flesh and blood. That is enough."

"My lord,"Guy protested nervously. "Be careful."

He was standing above her, his sword sheathed, hands curled into angry fists on his lean hips. "Are you the ladyAlice ?"

She blinked in surprise. And then she understood his misconception; he was confusing her with her half sister. Ceidre was no fool.Alice was not a by-blow. Being nobly born, she was of more import than Ceidre herself was. Depending, of course, on circumstanceon which game of war this Norman pig chose to play. For now she would go along with the false belief, to save herself from a certain rape, or worse.

Ceidre said, "Yes."

Her answer seemed to please him, for suddenly he smiled. Ceidre was momentarily stunned. Not by his response, or by the fact that he actually could smile. She remembered how he had looked charging after her on his destrier, like a golden pagan god. How he had looked, sitting there so impassively as she had pleaded with him to spare the corn. Now she realized he was devastatingly handsome with his short golden curls, his blue eyes, straight white even teeth, and features that were sensually, ruthlessly chiseled.

She stared at his proudly sculpted face, unable to stop herself.

"What do you think, Guy?" He was grinning, not tearing his gaze from her as he asked his knight the question. For a moment their gazes held.

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Guydidn't answer. His dismay was answer enough.

Ceidre didn't like the possessive way theNorman 's eves were stroking her body, and her anger returned in full force. Anger and something else, uneasiness. She started to get up, and he was there. His touch infuriated her, and she wrenched away; she did not need his help, would never need it. But why wasn't he afraid of her now that he knew the truth? Instead, he was angry at her response, but he was obviously a man of discipline for he held himself carefully in check. Gone, though, was the beautiful smile. "My lady,"

he said stiffly. "What are you doing away from Aelfgar? Dressed as you are? It is not safe in these times."

He would show concern for her safety? It was a mockery! "And what affair is it of yours? Am I your prisoner?" she demanded, chin high, eyes flashing. Yet inside she was quaking.

His own jaw came up. His mouth was tightly compressed. A few moments passed before he spokebefore, Ceidre thought, he trusted himself to speak. "You are not my prisoner, my lady. I will escort you”.

"Perhaps we should let her go,"Guy said, low. "Lest she cast a spell on us."

Rolfe's gaze was like a lance. "Perhaps she needs to be wedded and bedded. To learn a woman's true place."

Momentarily distracted, his eyes brightened at some vivid imagery. Then they narrowed. "Guy-she is here, the rebels were here. Who better to pass along a message? Look at her clothes! To heal a sow? I think she came disguised as a peasant to pass a message to her traitorous brothers! I think she is very smartthinking to fool me by so openly admitting such a thing."

'JESUS , "Guybreathed. As one they turned to look at her.

Ceidre hastily looked away, pretending she hadn't understood. But she had. Oh, why hadn't she kept her mouth shut! How, in this time of war, could she have declared herself a spy in her fit of temper? Now what would they do? She was already a valuable hostage, and that would keep her alive and safe, as long as they did think she wasAlice . But if they thought she was a spy . . . And what was all this reference to wedding; and bedding? She was struck with foreboding.

-No wife of mine will spy against my king,"Rolfe stated savagely. And he seared Ceidre with a blazing look.

Stunned, Ceidre stared back. No, it could not be. He could not mean . . . "I don't understand."

Rolfe's face darkened at the lack of respect in her address. "Soon you will have to call me my lord,"

he, said. "Whether you like it or no."

"No!" Ceidre cried.

"Oh, yes,"Rolfe said. "We are to be wedded, my lady. You are to be my wife." And he smiled.

back to Aelfgar to ensure no harm comes to your person."

"I don't need an escort," Ceidre managed. "'Tis not far, just six kilometers or so."

"Have you never learned respect for your men?"

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"For my men-yes."

He stared. "I will escort you to Aelfgar. We will ' camp here for the night."

"You are keeping me prisoner!" Ceidre cried.

"You are my guest," he said, very firmly. "AndGuy will see to your welfare."Rolfe gaveGuy a hard look.

"But you still have not answered my question."

She was a prisoner and she knew it, a prisoner of her hated enemy, maybe even one of those who, for all she knew, had captured, hurt, or killed her brothers! "Spying," she said, oh-so-sweetly. "Whatever else would I be doing so far afield?"

"Do not test my charity of spirit," he breathed.

"I am good with herbs." She glared at him, rememberingthe sow. "I came to heal the sow." He stared.

"To heal a pig?"

Her chin lifted. Was he dumb or deaf? Both, of course, being the Norman pig he was and no pun intended. "Yes," she said through gritted teeth. "After all, I am a witch-or have you already forgotten?"

His lips might have curled up in the slightest of smiles. "You did not cast your spell through the air?" he asked.

Ceidre gritted-now he was making fun of her. "She was a prized breeder and suffering with congestion.

Newly bred too. Of course, it no longer matters." "You traveled six kilometers to heal a sow?"

"Six and a half."

Rolfeturned toGuy . "C est incroyable! Do you believe this?" He had automatically reverted back to French.

Chapter 3

The ladyAlice and Aelfgar were the attainment of his every fierce ambition after a dozen years of servingWilliam , and serving him well.

Less than a sennight ago,William had been pacing his tent furiously whenRolfe had arrived. LikeRolfe , he was still sweaty from the recent battle that had freedYork from the Saxons and sent the Danes back to the coast and their ships. His bearded face was fierce with frustration, andRolfe knew exactly why.

"What news?"William demanded.

"The Saxons are routed, Your Grace."

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Their eyes met,William 's darkening with what was not being said. "Those bloody traitors?"

"There is no sign ofEdwin or Morcar,"Rolfe informed him.

William's brother,BishopOdo , and one of his most powerful nobles, Roger of Montgomery, were the only others present. They sat relaxed, although alert, with refreshments. "I hope, Your Grace," Odo said smoothly, "that there will be no clemency this time?"

RolfeandRoger both winced at Odo's blunt referral to the past.Edwin and Morcar had not taken up arms againstWilliam atHastings (fortunately forWilliam ,Rolfe knew), for they had been weakened in the years prior by an attack from the king ofNorway . Both had sworn allegiance toWilliam at his coronation, and had followedWilliam and his court back toNormandy when the south ofEngland was secured.Edwin had been given what amounted to one third ofEngland , including most of his lands inMercia , and Morcar's ' Northumbrian holdings. He had also been promisedWilliam 's daughter, the lovely Isolda, as a bride. Any other Norman bride would not have been al,ual, but evenRolfe was leery of the magnitude of power that this would give the dangerous Saxon eaorl. In the end,William had reneged, andEdwin and Morcar had gone home furious.

A year later they had almost takenYork , having roused the entire north to arms against the king.

AlthoughRolfe had participated in the battle forYork , abruptly thereafter he was sent to quell disturbances inWales .Edwin and Morcar had repledged their allegiance, giance, but this timeWilliam had left loyal vassals in their territory, to build and garrison and man royal castles.

And now it had happened again. The two northern lords had again led a rebellion, this time with a concurrent (coincidental?Rolfe thought not) invasion by the Danes. This time they had escaped, and there would be no royal forgiveness for their treason. ForYork had been demolished. A hundredNormans had been slain.