The Bride Gift (23 page)

“Where is she?” His bellow shook the rafters of the hall. His sword pressed against the pulse at Ranulf’s throat. Around them, the hall had fallen deadly silent. “Where is Helena?”

A gleam of triumph lit the other man’s eyes and quickly disappeared. This whoreson had something to do with Helena’s disappearance. Guy was certain of it.

“Sir Guy,” King Stephen shouted from the dais. Guy urged his blade closer to the pulse just beneath the surface of Ranulf’s skin. He would gut the bastard like a pig and watch him bleed with pleasure.

“
Sir Guy
!” The king’s voice throbbed with rage.

Finally, Guy looked up.

“You dare!” Stephen’s face was mottled with anger and his lips compressed into a tight line. “You dare to draw steel before your king?”

Rage coloured his vision but Guy took it all in with near deathlike calm. Men were on their feet throughout the hall. His own men stood by, uncertain, their hands on the hilts of their weapons. The king’s men were drawn and ready, watching him as if he was a mad dog, but not one of them had the ballocks to come closer.

Guy cared not as he turned on the man in his grasp. “I will slit your rotting neck. Where is she?”

“Have you lost your mind?” The king thundered from behind. Footsteps drew closer, but he didn’t release Ranulf.

The king’s men drew closer, trying to keep between him and their liege. The craven curs dragged their feet, though they kept their focus on him.
Aye, you cowards
. Guy’s lips curled over his teeth in a snarl as he let his eyes drift over them.
I will slit you from arse to throat and you know it.

“Sire,” Ranulf murmured, “it seems Sir Guy is under a misapprehension. Stay your weapons.”

“What misapprehension?” Stephen stuck his chest out like a barnyard bantam. “He drew steel before the king!”

“He has my wife.” Guy addressed the king as Ranulf’s blood oozed around his blade and dripped to the floor.

A frown creased Stephen’s brow. “Are you certain?”

“Aye. And I am done with talking.” Guy pressed his sword deeper and the ooze became a trickle. Vengeance thrummed through his muscles.

“Release that man,” Stephen snapped at him. “Release him before you cut his throat.”

Guy didn’t move. Just a hair more and he would have the bastard’s blood spraying across the hall. Ranulf remained dead still. His eyes glittered up at Guy triumphantly.

“I command you.” Stephen’s voice rose shrilly. “Or I will have you shot like a beast.”

“Guy.” Crispin was suddenly beside him. The haze over his vision cleared. “You must release him. The king has called for archers.”

“Nay,” Guy growled, baring his teeth.

“You cannot help Helena if you are dead.” Crispin said the one thing that penetrated Guy’s rage. He dropped Ranulf, who hit the floor with a sharp crack of bones meeting a hard surface.

Good
. Guy sheathed his weapon and turned to face his king’s wrath.

Stephen’s eyes seemed to bulge out of his face as he tried to form words. Guy had never seen him so angry.

Finding his voice, Stephen raged, “What right have you to flout your king? I should have you hanged for this.”

Ranulf struggled to his feet. Someone had brought him a cloth for his neck and he held the linen to his wound. “Sire, I believe Sir Guy acted under the false assumption that I have harmed his lady.”

“Lady Helena?” Stephen’s frown deepened. “What has this to do with Lady Helena?” He glanced over the faces before him. “Where is Lady Helena?”

The need to reach for his sword almost overpowered him, but Guy held his peace.

“That, I believe,” Ranulf said affably, “is exactly what Sir Guy was trying to ascertain.”

There was a light smattering of laughter from the hall at Ranulf’s tone.

Now Guy was even more certain Ranulf was behind Helena’s absence. His gut clenched, hard.

“God’s bones, man!” Stephen roared at Guy. “What has Sir Ranulf to do with any of this?”

“Might I?” Crispin spoke quietly, but his manner arrested the king’s attention. “There has been much bad blood betwixt Lystanwold and Dartmoore. Sir Ranulf has made no secret of his desire to wed the Lady Helena. I believe my brother’s assumption is not so ludicrous as it would appear.”

“Verily,” Ranulf replied with a nod. The smile didn’t move from his lips but malice glittered in his eyes.

A quick glance from Crispin confirmed Guy’s increasing worry. Had he just delivered himself neatly into Ranulf’s hand?

“Lady Helena is a prize to make any knight lose his head,” Ranulf continued. “Because of that, I would hear what Sir Guy accuses me of.”

Frustration rose like bile in the back of Guy’s throat. He had no accusation because he had no idea where Helena was.

Crispin came to his rescue. “Guy suspects foul play.”

“Foul play?” Ranulf had twisted his expression into one of concern. “Is the lady dead?”

“Nay,” Guy growled. “She is missing.”

“Missing?” Stephen threw up his hands. “Have you checked her chambers? Women are apt to take issue and go to ground. For this, you break my peace and draw steel before your sovereign?” Stephen’s mouth tightened into a furious line. “Take him.” He motioned to his men.

“My liege.” Crispin hastened forward. “Mayhap we should discover if Sir Guy’s fears are baseless before we accuse and find him wanting?”

“An excellent notion.” Ranulf rubbed his palms together.

Stephen turned to Ranulf. “You are in agreement? You have been most grievously insulted.”

“Who am I to judge a man when he fears for his lady?” Ranulf cast his eyes downward. “I lost my dear lady not so many years back.” He turned back to the tapestry. An unseen lady sighed softly as Ranulf gazed lovingly at the beautiful, flaxen haired girl whose image wove into the threads.

Guy wanted to spill his belly. He clenched and unclenched his hand. Steel was too good for the whoreson playing this game with terrifying skill. Guy vowed he would rend him limb from limb with his bare hands.

Crispin touched his arm and he started. The desire to kill the bastard was like a sword through his vitals and he fought down the cloud of red obscuring his vision.
For Helena, I must remain in command.

“Very well.” Stephen nodded abruptly. “Search for the Lady Helena.” He snapped out the command. “And include Dartmoore Keep in your search.”

Ranulf looked slightly affronted but inclined his head in agreement.

“Sir Ranulf remains here.” The king pointed at Guy. “Chain him.”

As two men approached Guy cautiously, Ranulf drawled, “Might I suggest you include the good Colin in your search? I do not believe I have seen the lady’s kinsman in the hall this eve.”

“Eh?” King Stephen looked from Ranulf to Guy. “Is that not the cousin she sought to wed?”

“A sorely disappointed man, to be sure,” Sir Ranulf replied.

Something within Guy snapped.

Venting on all who attempted to restrain him, his fury burst forth. Bone shattered beneath his fist. His boot lashed out. Blood sprayed in an arc as he rained down vengeance on his attackers. His pulse pounded in his neck. When a hand fastened on his arm, Guy twisted and brought his fist down. A cry of pain sounded.

He exulted in the sound.

As Stephen’s men sought to subdue him, Guy raged, impervious to pain. More men joined the fray. Their blows rained down upon his head and body as, by sheer weight of numbers, they forced him to the ground. And still Guy fought.

He was dead to the pain as they dragged the chains about his wrists and ankles. His eyes locked with Ranulf and violence boiled in his blood.

He would break Ranulf over his fist and leave him bleeding on the stones.

This was not done. It would not be done until Ranulf lay dead at his feet.

Chapter 26

The hours bled past slowly. Helena heated water and Rosalind bathed the stranger’s wound. He awoke intermittently, mumbling words that made no sense. They discussed escape, but Rosalind wouldn’t get far.

“Guy will come for you.” Rosalind leaned over the man, bathing his head in cooling water.

“Aye.” A rush of love warmed Helena from the inside. Guy would come for her, wroth with her or not. If only she hadn’t followed Colin into the forest, but found Guy instead and spoken with him. “I made him angry. When he would not challenge Ranulf, I . . . spoke badly.” Confessing her troubles to Rosalind seemed to keep the dread at bay.

“Guy is not the easiest of men.”

“He has been nothing but kind to me,” Helena defended hotly.

Rosalind threw her a wry look and bent back to her patient. “He is quite a handsome devil.” She finished ministering to the wounded knight and returned to the bench by the low fire. “I am beginning to regret calling out to you in the woods.” Rosalind winced as she lowered her body onto the hard seat.

Helena sighed, troubled. Rosalind had been roughly treated for one so far into her term.

“Why did you?” she asked.

“I must have been desperate for company.” Rosalind snorted with weary laughter. “Considering how cordial we have been.”

“Aye.” Helena glanced past Rosalind to the man in the bed. He seemed to be resting more comfortably.

Their gaolers had pushed some bread and charred bits of meat through the door. After Rosalind boiled the meat into a broth, they had taken turns feeding it to the man, who was as weak as a kitten. How long he had been left to suffer?

“Do you know who he is?” Helena nodded toward the pallet.

“Not an idea.” Rosalind arched, pressing her fists into the small of her back.

“He must be important for Ranulf to have kept him alive,” Helena mused. “How do you fare?” she asked as Rosalind shifted her bulk into a more comfortable position.

“This babe sits heavy,” Rosalind replied.

Outside the men had grown raucous and Helena suspected they were drinking. They wouldn’t have dared if Ranulf were about, for he demanded mindless obedience from those who served him.

With a sore heart, she thought again of Colin. She had known he was bitter when she was married to Guy. But this? As deep as her anger had grown, still she ached for the boy who’d shared her childhood.

“I do not understand,” she said. “About Colin and Ranulf. Why he did it.”

“You are very sheltered, my lady.” Rosalind gave a soft laugh, but there was nothing mocking about her tone. “I would guess Colin is in love with Ranulf. It must have been a long-standing, unrequited sort of love. Ranulf used it against him.”

Helena gaped at her. Such a thought had never occurred to her.

“You must not judge your cousin too harshly. It can be a lonely existence for men such as Colin, and Ranulf would have exploited his pain,” Rosalind said.

“Is that not a sin?”

“The church considers it to be so.” Rosalind closed her eyes and rested against the wall behind her.

“Do you?”

Rosalind lifted her shoulders wearily. “I do not know. In my life I have found many things I took to be truth do not appear the same under closer scrutiny.”

“That sounded very . . . sage.”

“Aye, well . . . even a whore like myself is capable of profound thought.”

Helena had no answer for that.

“Such as Guy,” Rosalind continued. “He appears to be this omniscient knight, but he has a weakness.”

“He does?”

Rosalind gave a snort. “Have you never wondered why he speaks so little?”

“He is a fighting man.” Helena pretended to dismiss the question.
As if the question has not caused more than a little annoyance.

“Guy is a tangle tongue. He has been afflicted with it since he was a boy. He does not speak because he believes it weakens him to tumble and trip over his words as he does.”

Helena’s jaw dropped. Guy was always so powerful and in control. He didn’t seem to be the sort to have a weakness. Her main irritation with him was that he never spoke enough. Now, it made so much sense. Of course, he kept his words limited. Guy would hate the weakness of a slack tongue.

“He is a good man.” Rosalind shifted her legs restlessly. “Guy promised to help me. He knows if Du Basson discovers me like this, he will never let me see my boys again.”

They sat; waited. Guy must have noticed their absence by now. Would he be frantic? Helena had to smile at the notion of a frantic Guy. Nay, he would wear his grim expression and appear calm, deadly, intent on his purpose.

“I am afeared,” she whispered at last.

“Aye, he is a bad one.” Rosalind didn’t need to explain whom she meant.

Somewhere deep in the night a fox barked, a melancholy yip that sent shivers down Helena’s spine. The silence was more terrible than anything. In the quiet, it became harder and harder to keep the fear at bay.

“He was wed to my sister. He killed her,” Helena murmured softly.

“How?”

“Slowly.” She ached, remembering. “He squeezed the life out of her day by day until Bess just lost the will to live.”

“Did he beat her?”

“Aye.” Cold rage washed away Helena’s fear and she clung to the strength it gave her. “Bess would never say, but there were always marks on her flesh. At first, she came often. Then her visits became less and less. Finally, she did not come at all.”

Rosalind didn’t offer any words of comfort or sympathy and for that Helena was grateful. They sat, bound together by an ages-old feminine understanding, sharing the burden of their womanhood, the pain and the cruelties.

Something caused Helena to look up. The man on the cot was awake and staring at them. Had he been listening? She nudged Rosalind as excitement coursed through her. What a victory, to have snatched this man’s life away from Ranulf . . .

Even for just a few hours.

Chapter 27

Guy paid no mind to the guards dicing in front of his prison. They were the least of his concerns. He’d been chained and left in the dungeons beneath the keep. The king worried he might escape. It was a just concern.

He shifted to ease the pain in his shoulder. As he sat in the dank confines of the keep, each ache and pain inflicted on him by his jailers made itself known. A wiser knight would have gone quietly and chosen to fight another day.