The Conqueror (Hot Knights) (27 page)

The cook approached Edeva with a steaming jar. “Whist now, drink this down. ’Twill strengthen your blood and hearten the babe.”

Edeva met her gaze. “What makes you think there is a babe?”

Beornflaed rolled her eyes. “I saw your mother through six pregnancies, not to mention all the slutty kitchen wenches I’ve had to endure, puking out their guts a few weeks after your brothers—and now these damned Normans—had their way with them. I know the look of a woman who’s breeding, and you have it.”

Edeva took a sip of the hot broth and then another. As her stomach settled, she released a long sigh.

“’Tis a good thing, my lady,” Beornflaed said. “The two of you will make a son as can hold Oxbury against any man. You are both brave and strong, lusty and proud. ’Tis a fine match and it bodes well for all of us.”

Edeva felt a sudden stab of anxiety. If only she could be as certain of the future as Beornflaed. All she could think of was Jobert returning to find Oxbury burned and ruined. Worse yet, what if he never returned at all? What if she never had a chance to tell him about the babe?

“Drink it all,” the cook ordered sternly. “You won’t feel better until you learn to eat and drink soon after rising.”

Edeva obeyed, and then got to her feet. She would not dwell on her worries, not when there was so much to do.

She left the kitchen shed and started toward the well, intending to see if the men had drawn enough water so the women could do some washing. The sudden clanging of the chapel bell made her change direction.

By the time she reached the gate, she saw that Osbert and Alan were already up on the tower, conferring. She rushed up the ladder, shouting, “What’s happening? Have they brought siege engines?”

Osbert shook his head as she arrived on the tower. “Nay, they look as if they mean to negotiate.”

Edeva went to the tower wall and gazed down at the trackway. It did appear the enemy came under truce. Their weapons were not drawn. “What if it is a trick?” she said.

“It does not hurt to hear what they have to say,” Alan responded. “Mayhaps there has been a mistake—mayhaps they did not mean to attack us yesterday.”

Edeva and Osbert exchanged a skeptical glance. They both knew there had been no mistake.

Alan climbed up on the battlement so the approaching army could see him. “Halt and state your intentions,” he called out.

Edeva saw Bourges signal his men to stop, then he rode forward alone.

“Who are you?” Bourges asked as he saw Alan.

“I am Alan of Fornay, first captain of Lord Brevrienne’s mensie.”

“Sir Alan,” Bourges spoke ingratiatingly. “We are pleased to treat with you. I fear our actions yesterday were misconstrued. We come today in the hope that we can settle things peaceably.”

“What do you want?” Alan asked.

“We have a message from the king. If you will allow us entrance into the palisade, we will share it with you.”

Alan gave a snort of contempt. “I am no more a fool than Sir Rob. I will see the king’s seal ere I order the gates opened.”

“That is not possible,” Bourges said smoothly. “But mayhaps we can find agreement on the matter. We hold hostage one of your knights. We are prepared to exchange him for the Lady Edeva.”

“What the devil?” Alan whispered under his breath. Then he shouted, “What business do you have with Lady Edeva?”

“The king himself has asked that she be brought to him. He is prepared to recognize some of her father’s—that is Earl Leowine’s—claim to property in several other shires. The king will not grant these claims unless he first speaks to the lady herself.”

Alan shot Edeva a puzzled glance. “Know you anything of this?”

She shook her head. “’Tis true that my father held charters for other lands, but I thought all that was forfeit, as was Oxbury itself.”

“But is it possible that Bourges’s assertion is true?” Alan demanded.

“I know not.”

“Enough of this damned foolishness!” Osbert sputtered. “We cannot exchange the lady for Rob, no matter what skein of lies this man spins. I’m astonished you would even consider the matter, sir!”

“Let us not be hasty,” Edeva said. “I can see merit to the exchange. With Rob returned, you would have one more knight to defend Oxbury. And I cannot imagine that Bourges would hurt me.”

“I do not like it.” Alan fidgeted with the pommel of his sword, his face as stormy as the winter sky. “I think Bourges means to use you to lure Brevrienne into an ambush.”

“I am willing to take that risk,” Edeva said. “At least it draws them away from Oxbury. You’ve said yourself that we cannot defeat such a force under these circumstances. Would it not be better to placate them and save the manor?”

“You would go with them willingly?” Alan asked.

Edeva nodded. “From what I’ve learned of Norman men, I do not think that they would abuse me. And I would do near anything to save Oxbury from destruction.”

Alan eyed her carefully, as if considering the matter, while Osbert looked on, clearly distraught.

Edeva tried to quell her own fears. She thought of the baby growing in her womb. What if Bourges raped her and made her lose the child? Or, what if he used her to lure Jobert into a trap?

The risks were great, but somehow they seemed less real than the prospect of seeing Oxbury burned to the ground. With the men he took to London and the knights in the fort, Jobert’s army was near evenly matched with Bourges’s, and Edeva had no doubt that her lover was the superior warrior and battle commander.

“I will go,” she said again.

Alan gave her another look, and then said, “So be it.”

* * *

Edeva took a deep breath and shifted to maintain her precarious position on the white palfrey. She felt foolish and helpless, like a prize filly decked out for a summer fair. But from what she knew about Normans, it seemed wisest to appear in the guise of a refined and elegant lady, so that Bourges would not dare mistreat her.

To that end, she had bathed and washed her hair, then changed into her gown of bronze sarcanet, covered with the rich fur-lined mantle. She had forborne to wear any jewels, fearing that Bourges would steal them, but she had insisted that a fine horse be prepared for her so she might ride to meet the invaders looking like a queen.

A queen about to fall face-down in the snow, she thought grimly as she approached the waiting army. If it had been more than a few hundred paces, she would never have attempted it. Having never ridden a horse alone before, she was finding it much more difficult than she imagined. The mare balked and pranced, and the tighter Edeva gripped the reins, the more unsteady the horse’s gait became.

With relief, Edeva saw that this part of her trial was almost over. Bourges rode toward her, leading a horse carrying Rob. The sleet had coated the men’s clothing and helmets with a frosty film, so the whole Norman army looked like phantoms.

She pulled on the reins and the mare came to a jerky halt. Bourges stopped beside her and gave her a stiff bow. “My lady.”

He released the lead of Rob’s horse and reached out to grab the palfrey’s bridle. As he led her past Rob, the young knight met her gaze with a miserable expression. “Fare the well, my lady,” he murmured.

Bourges took the reins from her and guided her horse into the troop of Norman knights. Sudden dread clawed at Edeva’s chest. These were the faceless monstrous demons of her nightmares. The ghostly white of their attire made them seem even more chilling and ominous.

They rode through the valley and along the riverbank. The men spoke little, except a few low mutterings that she couldn’t decipher. The palfrey trotted along easily, responding to the authoritative strength of the man holding the reins.

Edeva wondered if they meant to leave immediately for London. She thought them fools if they did. Despite her fur-lined mantle and warm gloves, she was already half frozen through. The men in their armor must be even more miserable.

They passed a stand of tall beeches, glazed silver with ice, and then moved into a clearing where a dozen leather tents were set up. Edeva felt a surge of relief. They would camp here, waiting for the storm to pass. By then, Jobert would be on his way from London.

The men began to dismount. One of the knights helped her off her horse, then took her arm and guided her into the largest of the tents. By the light of a brazier, she could see the tent was furnished with two stools, several chests and a fur-covered bedplace.

She had barely taken a seat on one of the stools when Bourges pushed his way into the tent. Another knight ducked in after him.

She saw that her captor was not tall. In fact, she would have overtopped him if she was standing, but he was wide-bodied and powerfully built.

He removed his helmet, revealing brown hair thinning at the crown and a weathered, red-brown face. Rubbing his hands together before the brazier, he stared at Edeva.

After a moment, he motioned to her mantle, indicating that she should remove it.

Heart racing, Edeva did so.

Bourges’s gaze roamed over her face and neck, then her body.

“Not my taste exactly.” The other man spoke from behind Bourges. “Too big and sturdy, like a peasant. But her tits appear to be spectacular. Let’s have a better look at them.”

At his words, Edeva pulled out the dagger she had hidden in her sleeve. The blade glittered in the torchlight.

“Christ’s balls!” the man in the shadows chortled, “I do think you’ve got more woman here than you bargained for.”

“Shut up, Henry!” Bourges growled. “This business is tricky enough without the wench squawking to the king that’s she’s been ill-used.”

The other man moved into the light. “You’re going to wed with her, Bourges. Why shouldn’t you inspect your property?”

“Jesu, will you get your brains out of your chausses?” Bourges`s said. “I’ve difficulties enough without your stupidity. Even if Brevrienne is dead, even if I can claim the Saxons attacked us and Brevrienne’s knights did nothing, I still have to convince the king that I have a right to Oxbury. To do that, I need the woman’s cooperation.”

“Cooperation? That’s easily enough gained from a wench. Give me a night with her, and I vow I’ll have her begging the king to let her wed you.”

“Never!” Edeva cried, unable to remain silent any longer. “You can kill me now, for I will never agree to wed you!”

The two men stared at her. “Quite a fiery little bitch, isn’t she?” said the man named Henry.

“Shut up,” said Bourges. “She obviously knows more Norman French than we anticipated.”

The dagger cast sparkles of light on the ceiling of the tent as Edeva shifted it from one hand to the other. Her voice came out in a hiss of fury. “I’ve heard every word, and I know you’ve murdered Jobert. And now, I’m going to kill you.”

“Jesu,” breathed Henry, “I think she means it.”

Bourges gave a weary sigh. “I told Valois that this was madness. Jesu, I don’t even want Oxbury—not enough to endure this sort of trouble. I have land enough in Normandy.”

“But you hold that of Valois,” Henry argued. “And if you refused to do his bidding, you well know what will happen.”

Bourges sighed again. “Lady,” he said, “I did not kill Brevrienne, and, in truth, I mean you no harm.”

“If you did not kill him, who did?”

“Valois sent an assassin to murder him in London.”

Jobert was dead. Edeva’s hand went limp on the dagger. She felt numb, utterly empty.

“I mean you no disrespect, Lady Edeva,” Bourges said, “but you are the heiress of Oxbury, and to claim it, I must wed with you.”

“A
ll looks peaceful,” Jobert said, gazing across the snow-covered valley toward the palisade on the hill.

“’Twould appear you near killed yourself for no reason,” Hamo grumbled. “I told you another day would not matter. You have a whole lifetime to be with your ladylove.”

“I feared that Oxbury might be in danger,” Jobert said “I had to get here and see for myself.” He swayed on his mount as the numbing fatigue caught up with him. “Jesu, I swear I could sleep for a week.”

“Let’s get on with it then.” Hamo urged his mount forward and Jobert and the others followed.

The ride from London had been hell. They’d lost their way twice, then had to stop and build a fire near midday lest some of the men lose fingers or toes to the cold.

A few hours earlier, the snow had ceased and they’d suddenly found themselves riding through a silent, almost magical winter world. Ice covered the curve of every branch and dried leaf and transformed the scenery into a lacy white tracery. Then the sun came out, and their eyes were dazzled by the light from a trillion sparkling ice crystals.

The beauty of the landscape had helped keep them going, despite their fatigue and cold. Now they were almost home and the effort to guide their horses along the slippery, slushy trackway took all their strength. Jobert found himself shivering from head to toe as his muscles protested this final test of endurance. What he would not do for a hot bath, and then have Edeva massage his sore muscles and crawl into a warm clean bed with him.

He jerked himself upright as the lulling images relaxed him so much he slipped sideways in the saddle. God’s toes, he’d better concentrate on what he was doing or he’d end up in a snowdrift!

He forced himself to focus on the peaceful landscape around them. Odd how wrong his instincts had been. He’d felt almost certain that Valois would send someone to seize control of Oxbury. His death alone would not be enough to satisfy his enemy. A greedy man like Valois would also seek to take control of his property.

But obviously nothing had happened. The palisade walls remained intact, although there seemed to be another burned place along the east end by the gate. Jobert squinted, trying to see better.

A helmeted head appeared at the top of the gatetower. There was a shout as the guard spotted them. Only a few more steps and they would be home.

The gate opened and they rode in. The yard seemed strangely quiet. Jobert had expected a more exultant welcome. And where was Edeva?

Alan stood stone-faced, but one look at Rob, and Jobert immediately knew something was wrong.

“What is it?” he demanded, sliding from his horse. “Where’s Edeva?”

The two knights exchanged a glance, then Rob said, “Bourges took her to the king. At least, that is what he said he was doing. In truth, I fear for her.”

Jobert’s insides seemed to turn to ice, but the anger spilling out of him was hot and furious. “How could you let anyone take her? I charged you both with protecting her, yet I return and find no signs of a battle, and her gone, and you know not where!” He could barely contain himself from the urge to grab one or both of the men and throttle them to death.

“She went willingly,” Alan said in his tight-lipped manner. “She offered to go.” His mouth curled. “Mayhaps she was lured away by Bourges’s promise that the king meant to award her property elsewhere in England. Or, mayhaps she has planned this all along.”

Jobert stared at Alan, slowly realizing what he was saying. As his mind screamed in protest, he turned to Rob. “Think you that Lady Edeva... that she...” he could scarce get the words out, “... that she betrayed me?”

Rob shot Alan a glance, then shook his head. “I think she went with Bourges in order to save Oxbury.”

“Save Oxbury? From what?”

Alan started to speak, but Rob interrupted him. “Nay, let him hear it from the beginning.” He turned to Jobert. “It is not as if Bourges rode up to the fort and Edeva ran off with him. Indeed, she was the one who urged us not to let the envoy in. She insisted that they meant us no good. And they did act in bad faith. They took me hostage when I went out to speak with them.

“They treated me well enough, but I sensed that they were plotting something. Besides, they did attack the palisade with burning arrows. ’Twas not a full-blown attack, and they soon retreated, but ’twas clearly an act of aggression. Then, they brought me back the next day with the proposal to exchange me for Lady Edeva.

“I thought it utter madness to let her go, but I think she felt that she would be safer than I was, and that by going with them, she would draw their attention away from Oxbury. I know she assumed you would return shortly and be able to set things right.”

“Huh,” Alan said. “If you ask me, she was all too eager to go once she heard she was heiress to other property.”

Jobert took a deep breath, trying to expel his anger and fear so he could think clearly. “Who is Bourges?” he asked. “And what is this about Edeva having other lands?”

“Bourges is the leader of a troop of well-armed Norman knights,” Rob said. “In truth, we know no more than that. He came here demanding admittance into the fort, claiming he had a message from the king. Edeva insisted he furnish proof of his mission. Bourges refused, then took me hostage as I went out to speak with him. The next day they returned to the palisade. This time Bourges said he had come to fetch Edeva, that she was heiress to other property in England, but William would not recognize her claim unless she came to him in person.”

“Based on that, you gave him Edeva?” Jobert felt his outrage building once again. “He showed you no writ, no proof of who he was, and yet you let him take her!”

“But she wanted to go,” Alan said. “She is not your wife yet, lord, else I would not have allowed it.”

“But I told you to guard her! I meant that you should protect both Oxbury and Edeva!” Jobert turned and took a few stumbling steps. He was bone-weary and trembling with cold, and that did not help him make sense of this disaster. Whirling around, he demanded, “How long have they been gone? Did they ride toward London?”

“They took her back to their camp at the end of the valley,” Rob said. “I had one of the village boys follow and watch. He came back to say that they seemed to be settling in for the night. But the next morning, when he went again to spy on them, he found they had broken camp before daybreak. Their tracks led not toward London, but to Winchester.”

Jobert struck his fist into his palm. “How could you? You let them take my woman, my wife-to-be!” He whirled on Alan. “The king gave me his consent to wed Edeva! If you had not let her go, we would be in the chapel at this moment saying our marriage vows before Father Reibald!”

Rob cleared his throat. “I’m sorrowed to say that Father Reibald is dead, although we are not certain how or why. He died of an arrow in the back. It appeared to come from a Saxon bow, but even that is not clear. Edeva thought that the priest was somehow connected with Bourges, and that they might have killed him for some reason.”

The spy.
Jobert’s sense of frustration increased. He had suspected all along that Valois had planted a spy at Oxbury. Who better than a priest, a man who could come and go as he pleased?

As he had thought, Valois’s scheme was much more complex than simply murdering him. And the villain had now entangled Edeva in his sinister plans!

“Have water heated for a bath for me, and some warm food prepared,” he said. “As soon as I have refreshed myself, we will set out.”

Hamo, who had been listening to the exchange, stepped forward. “If you have a care for Lord Brevrienne,” he advised the other men, “you’ll make him take a day of rest before he rides. He is already so tired he can scarce keep his seat on a horse.”

“He’s right,” Rob said. “Why not let Alan and me pursue Bourges while you get your strength back?”

Jobert shook his head. “I cannot rest until I have Edeva safe. Tie me to my horse if you must, but I will go after her.”

* * *

Bourges had half a day’s head start, but the weather would have slowed them down, and with their baggage carts and servants, the army troop could not travel as quickly as a handful of men. Jobert had considered taking a larger force himself, in case he was forced into combat in order to rescue Edeva. But he had decided that ’twas more important to catch up with the enemy quickly. He hoped that once Bourges knew he was being pursued, the knight would abandon whatever plans he had regarding Edeva.

That is, if they had truly taken Edeva hostage. As Alan kept insisting, there was always the possibility Edeva had gone along willingly.

Unthinkable, Jobert told himself. The woman he knew would not desert him for another man. Even if Edeva had discovered that she was a greater heiress than supposed, he could not imagine that she would turn against him.

They trailed the army all the way to Winchester, but when they arrived in the town there was no sign of Bourges or his men. Jobert and the others stopped at an inn to rest their horses and to eat some hot food, while Rob made inquiries at the farmhouses near the roadway.

Soon after they delved into the leek soup and fresh bread the innkeeper offered, Rob came bursting in. “They have been here and have gone on to the priory. It seems they stopped and watered their horses at one of the farmer’s wells. While they were there, they inquired as to where they could find a priest, and the farmer advised them to seek out the holy men of Wherwall Abbey.

“A priest!” Hamo exclaimed. “What need do they have of a priest?”

Frightening thoughts went through Jobert’s mind. Edeva was hurt and her captors sought a man learned in the healing arts, as many priests were. Rob’s explanation horrified him even more: “They said they needed a priest so that the Norman lord could wed the lady traveling with them.”

Jobert put down his chunk of bread. He shook his head, willing himself to believe his own words, “She would not wed any other man unless they threatened her. And if she was coerced, the marriage will not be valid.”

The men were silent. Hamo rose and said, “If they passed by here only recently, ’tis possible the ceremony has yet to take place. You know how tedious holy men are. I doubt that they could perform a wedding without praying over the matter for hours beforehand.”

Jobert got to his feet. “Let us go. The priory is only a mile or two from here.”

The porter at the priory gate refused to admit them at first, grumbling about “hordes of soldiers disrupting a place of peace and refuge.” He finally agreed to allow Jobert and Rob to enter, as long as they left their weapons behind.

Jobert felt naked and vulnerable without his sword as they followed the brown-clad brother to the chapel. If there was trouble, how would he fight? He had made up his mind to claim Edeva even if she appeared unwilling. He’d made her love him once, he could do so again. If only he could have time alone with her. Time to remind her of what was between them.

He heard the sound of monks chanting prayers as he approached the Saxon-styled chapel. His body grew tight. What if he was too late? What if Edeva was already bound by vows to another?

Rob opened the arched door and they went in. Candles lit the high-beamed building with wavering light. Rows of monks stood praying along the length of the nave. At the far end of the long, narrow building, near the altar, stood a knight and a lady.

Jobert waited motionless as his eyes made out details in the dim light. Then he recognized the rich bronze of the woman’s gown and the glint of golden braids beneath her veil. He strode forward. “Stop, priest,” he called out. “This woman cannot wed this man. Lord William, king of England and duke of Normandy, has given her to me!”

The knight and the woman turned. The monks paused in their singing. For a long moment, the church was silent. Then Edeva picked up her skirts and dashed toward Jobert. “You’re alive! Thank God!” She threw herself into his arms, near knocking him down.

“Oh, Edeva, my love,” he murmured into her hair as he found his balance. “’Tis true, the king has agreed to let me wed you. Let us do it now, before something else comes between us.”

She pulled away, her eyes wide. “Bourges,” she whispered.

Jobert held her close to his body as the knight at the altar moved toward him. Although Jobert had no weapon, he had no intention of relinquishing Edeva. Not while there was a breath in his body.

“Brevrienne?” The man stopped a few paces away and surveyed Jobert carefully.

“Yea, I am Brevrienne.”

The man nodded. He glanced briefly at the priest behind him, then said, “As God as my witness, I never meant you harm. Valois forced me into this thing. He made it seem a simple matter. That you would meet with an accident in London and all I had to do was claim your demesne.” He paused, and when he continued, his voice sounded desperate, “He is my liegelord. How could I refuse him?”

“Did it not trouble your conscience at all that he meant to murder me?” Jobert said coldly.

“He said he had good cause. That you had ruined his daughter and then abandoned her.”

“That is not true. Even if it was, do you think for that I should have my throat cut in some filthy London alley and my property stolen?”

Bourges gestured helplessly. “He is not the first father to seek such brutal vengeance.”

“Valois is not some doting parent who seeks redress for his daughter’s shame,” Jobert ground out. “Let me tell you the facts, Bourges. My relationship with Damaris de Valois was chaste and innocent. She chose to enter a nunnery because she believed it to be her true calling, not because she was shamed. If I am guilty of anything, it is for exposing Valois for the greedy, scheming wretch he is. His anger arises not out of concern for his daughter, but from having his plans for a profitable marriage alliance come to naught!”

Bourges digested this a moment, then ran a hand over his balding pate, looking near as weary as Jobert felt. “I beg your pardon, Brevrienne. I knew none of this.”

“Of course, he knew nothing!” Another man stepped from near the altar and spoke in a harsh, mocking voice. “The fool was merely a pawn of my lord Valois.”