Lady Knight (32 page)

“How is she?” Riannon said.

“Unwell,” Joan said. “And choosing to keep to her bed this day.”

“Does she need a healer?” Riannon said. “I can fetch one from the nearest
grove.”

“I offered her the services of my woman,” Joan said. “But she declined. She
claims that she suffers merely a light stomach upset and no great malady, but
feels it best to remain quiet. Or, rather, her woman did. Eleanor remained in
bed and didn’t speak with me.”

Eleanor was ill enough to remain abed but refused aid? She would admit Riannon
to her chamber. And, mayhap, accept her offer to fetch a healer. Riannon strode
out of the hall and headed for Eleanor’s chamber.

Eleanor watched her hand on the stone embrasure. She could not make it stop
trembling. Everything in creation had slipped from her control, even her own
body. She was unworthy of being protected. Less than a wife. She had become a
shameful thing to be kept hidden.

She hurt. She deserved it. She asked for it. Ralph had been in the right to do
it to her.

Or had she always been an object to Geoffrey? A rich, younger wife to show off
before other men.

They would deal with her when they got her home.

Eleanor’s nails scraped the stone as her hand tightened into a claw.
Holy
Mother, what more could they do to her?

A hand rapped on the door. Eleanor squeezed her eye shut and pressed herself
against the wall.
No! Please, no.

Riannon repeated her knock. Agnes cracked the door open.

“My sister tells me that your lady is unwell,” Riannon said. “I wish to speak
with her.”

“She wishes no visitors, Vahldomne, your honour,” Agnes said.

“If she is so stricken, I’ll ride to fetch a healer priestess for her. You or
she have but to say the word.”

Agnes cast an uncertain look back into the chamber behind her.

“Please,” Riannon said. “I would help her or see her.”

Agnes bit her lip. Something more was amiss than a stomach upset. Eleanor would
not have refused her admittance if that mild complaint was truly what she
suffered. Riannon wanted to shove the door aside and stride inside to see for
herself.

“Please,” Riannon said. “Your lady’s health is dear to me.”

Agnes visibly made a decision. She whispered, “I’ll talk with her.”

Riannon scowled as the door shut. What, in the name of fiery hell, was wrong?

Eleanor put a hand to her mouth and swallowed with difficulty. That was
Riannon’s voice.

Agnes’s feet scuffed the rushes as she approached. “Lady? I know your lord
husband forbade you to receive any visitors, but… it’s the Vahldomne.”

Eleanor’s face hurt as she frowned out at the rain. Riannon could make her feel
safe in a world where that illusion of safety had been brutally and bloodily
smashed from around her. She craved protection and reassurance as much as she
needed her next breath. Her husband had denied it to her. Worse, he blamed her
for what Ralph had done. He threatened more.

Riannon loved her. Riannon had never looked on her as a possession to be used.
But would Riannon believe she had brought it on herself?

“The Vahldomne has offered to fetch a healer priestess,” Agnes said. “Mayhap
such services might be helpful.”

Eleanor stared through unshed tears at the relentless water pounding the world
outside. Geoffrey had forbidden her to admit anyone. She had vowed obedience to
him when she married him. But as part of that same ceremony, he had sworn to
protect her. What else would he allow Ralph to do to her? Distant thunder
rumbled as if the sky broke and collapsed to the earth.

“My lady?” Agnes said.

Eleanor nodded. “Let her in.”

Agnes’s footsteps hurried away.

Holy Mother, what’s happening to me? Help me.

Eleanor knew the approaching footsteps belonged to Riannon, but she could not
stop herself gripping the window’s edge as if she expected to be pulled from it.
Every nerve tightened with fear. Her face hurt where her bruised flesh pressed
against the cool, hard stone.

“I missed you in the hall,” Riannon said. “My sister said you’re unwell. I’ll
fetch whatever help you need.”

At the sound of Riannon’s voice, Eleanor bit her split lip and tasted fresh
blood. Relief spilled out as tears.

“Eleanor?”

Eleanor desperately wanted to feel safe. She remembered clinging to Riannon and
how it felt to have Riannon’s arms around her. Riannon would not let anyone
touch her – not even if Geoffrey and Ralph both barged into the chamber. Shame
held her immobile. Turning to Riannon would mean exposing her injuries and
having to explain. Why did she have to think? Why must she face decisions? She
wanted everything to stop, and stop hurting.

“Nell? I wish to help. If you’ll let me.”

Riannon moved closer. She stood just behind Eleanor. Eleanor frowned down at her
hand gripping the stone. This was madness. She should never have let Riannon in
here. If Riannon saw her, she would want to know what happened. She should have
obeyed Geoffrey and kept herself hidden.

“I begin to think the worst,” Riannon said.

Riannon stepped to the side of the chest Eleanor sat on. She was so close that
her leg brushed against the skirts of Eleanor’s overtunic. Eleanor averted her
head. Riannon squatted. Eleanor could feel Riannon looking at her.

Riannon gently rested a hand over the one with which Eleanor clutched the bottom
of the window. “Love?”

Eleanor snapped. She turned, flung her arms around Riannon’s neck, and pushed
her face against Riannon’s shoulder without caring how much it hurt. “I’m so
scared.”

“Scared?” Riannon slipped her arms around Eleanor. “What cause have you to
fear?”

“I thought he was going to kill me.” Unshed tears threatened to choke her. Her
body shook. She couldn’t control what she was doing. “He believes him. Not me.
Nonnie, what am I going to do?’ “Kill you?” Riannon stroked Eleanor’s back.
“Who are you talking about? Your husband? What has he done?”

Eleanor dug her fingers into Riannon. Solid. Safe. She burst into tears.

“Love?” Riannon said. “What has happened? Why should you fear anyone?”

Eleanor tried to stop her sobs, but couldn’t. Riannon held her. Eventually,
Eleanor’s weeping subsided and gave way to shivering. She felt winter cold
despite her fur-lined mantle and clinging to Riannon’s warm body.

“You ought to be abed, love,” Riannon said. “This sickness –”

“No!”

“Nell?”

“Not the bed,” Eleanor said.

Eleanor felt Riannon stiffen.

“What did he do to you?” Riannon asked. “Nell?”

Eleanor’s teeth chattered. The ice gripping her body froze her thoughts.

Riannon turned her head to speak to Agnes. “Bring an extra mantle. Or cloak.
Yes, that will do. Wrap it around her.”

Riannon and Agnes settled a woollen cloak around Eleanor’s shoulders. She didn’t
feel as though she would ever be warm again, no matter what they wrapped around
her.

“You ought to be close to a fire,” Riannon said.

“No. I… I can’t go anywhere.”

Riannon went still and taut. “Let me look at you.”

Riannon urged Eleanor to straighten. Eleanor should have locked her arms around
Riannon’s neck and resisted. But she yielded to Riannon’s gentle pressure.
Riannon gasped. The shock on her face as she stared at Eleanor swiftly
solidified and hardened into implacable anger. Eleanor again looked at a
stranger in Riannon.

“Who did this?” Riannon asked. “Your husband?”

Eleanor shook her head.

“Has he gone to call the whoreson to account?” Riannon asked. “But he did wrong
to leave you here. I expect this is the last place you wish to be. Let me take
you to my chamber. You’ll be safe there. Can you walk?”

“No. I can’t let anyone see me. Not like this.”

“As you wish. But you need healing, love. Let me send Alan to fetch a priestess
from the nearest grove.” Riannon gave Eleanor’s hand a reassuring squeeze, but
she went tense again and her thumb touched the charmed ring on Eleanor’s finger.
Her gaze snapped back up to Eleanor’s face. “Did he –?”

Eleanor reflexively averted her face. But why was it her shame that he had done
that to her? Riannon did not move away from her in disgust, though. Instead, her
fingers clasped Eleanor’s hands with reassuring strength.

“Who?” Riannon’s voice sounded remote with controlled anger. “If your husband
needs help bringing this cur to justice, I will do all I can.”

Eleanor shook her head and clung to Riannon’s hand as if it were her only
lifeline. It might be. What had Geoffrey said?
Ralph and I must decide how to
proceed. We’ll deal with you when we get home.
He would hit her again. And
worse. Geoffrey would do nothing to stop him. He’d see no wrong in whatever
Ralph did to her.

“If the offal masquerading as a man who did this is beyond your husband’s
reach,” Riannon said, “he’s not above mine. No one is.”

Eleanor heard the danger in Riannon’s voice as she stared down at their joined
hands. Riannon’s sword hand. If she spoke Ralph’s name, she knew what Riannon
would do. She flinched at the memory of Ralph’s fist punching her. The look on
his face as he’d ripped her chemise. The pain when he rammed himself – “Has your
husband gone to Humphrey to lay charges and ask for an arrest?” Riannon said.

“No.” Eleanor felt Riannon’s frown in the tightening of the hand she held. This
was the only protection she had against it happening again, and again.
“Geoffrey will make no complaint.”

“But –”

“He holds his son blameless.”

“Ralph.” Riannon surged to her feet. “I’ll return. I won’t be long.”

Riannon strode away, told Agnes to bar the door and let no one in, and then she
was gone.

Eleanor lifted her gaze from her empty hand to the continuing rain.

“The Vahldomne will kill him,” Agnes said.

“Yes.”

Riannon stalked across her chamber to the chest. Her two swords lay there in
their scabbards. She grabbed the sword that had been a gift from Prince Oliver
and strode to the stairs. She marched into the hall and paused to locate her
quarry. Ralph stood at the far hearth with his back to her. Geoffrey was nowhere
to be seen. Riannon strode through the hall. She shouldered one man aside and
shoved Ralph in the back.

He turned. “What the –”

Riannon punched him in the face. Ralph staggered, tripped, and dropped to his
backside.

Riannon ignored the surprised outbursts of the onlookers. She drew her sword and
levelled the point at Ralph’s chest. He stared up at her with blood trickling
from his nose.

“I’ll give you the chance to fight back that you didn’t give her,” Riannon said.

Ralph’s mouth dropped open. “
You?
”

“Riannon?” Henry pushed through the startled spectators. “What’s the meaning of
this?”

“He knows,” Riannon said. “Well? Do you fight or do I butcher you where you lie
like the pig you are?”

“Nonnie.” Guy put a hand on her arm. “What –”

“Stay out of this.” Riannon kept her gaze on Ralph. “Well?”

“Fetch my sword.” Ralph eased himself from under her sword point and to his
feet.

“This is breaking the queen’s peace,” Henry said.

“If he committed some offence under my roof,” Humphrey of Northmarch said, “the
onus is on me to enact justice.”

Guy stepped between him and Riannon. “We all heard a challenge issued and
accepted.”

“Aye.” Ralph wiped the blood from his nose on his sleeve, and sneered at
Riannon. “I’m more than willing.”

Riannon wanted to kill him. To hack him apart. To make him hurt and scream and
regret every seen and unseen bruise he had inflicted on Eleanor. Make him feel
helplessness and fear. Ralph’s squire hurried back with his lord’s sword.

Geoffrey elbowed his way through the ring of men. “Ralph! What is this?”

Ralph drew his sword. “It seems that this self-claimed Vahldomne would play the
man in the bedchamber as well as on the battlefield. It’s past time someone
showed her that she’s not a man.”

Riannon ignored Guy’s questioning look as she strode past him towards the doors.

Rain hammered the muddy courtyard. Cold wetness pelted her shoulders and bare
head. She took a stance with a two-handed grip on her sword. Ralph swaggered out
to meet her. People poured out of the doors to press against the walls under the
shelter of the eaves to watch.

“Stop this!” Geoffrey called. “Please. My lords. You cannot let this happen.
Neither wears armour. It will be a death!”

Ralph acted as if he had not heard his father. He swung his sword before taking
a stance. “You face no soft imperial pig this time.”

Mud oozed over Riannon’s feet and sucked at her as she tried to move. Ralph
suffered the same hindrance. They shifted warily. Ralph smiled.

“She begged me for it,” he said.

Riannon’s grip tightened on her sword. If he wished to ignite her temper into a
reckless strike, he mistook her completely. Her mood cooled and hardened
further, like a new-forged blade plunged into a smith’s bucket. When he stepped
forwards and swung, she met his blade with her own. The clang reverberated
around the courtyard. The skies answered with a banging of thunder.

Ralph retreated and shook his head to dislodge rain trickling down his face.
Riannon did not want to remember the pulpy face she had left upstairs. Her boots
splashed in a puddle as she advanced on him.

“She felt so good around me,” he said. “Wet with lust. Tight. Hot for me.”

Riannon swung. Ralph’s sword smacked against hers in a solid parry. He grinned.
Blood from his nose stained his teeth pink.

“She wanted it,” he said. “Moaning for me. You wouldn’t know what that felt
like, would you?”

Riannon swung. Ralph threw his sword up to block the strike at his head.

“She told me how good I felt inside her.” He smirked.