The Innocent (31 page)

"I thought you meant for Pax to have your place one day," Sim said bluntly. "Will you forsake him for me?"

"You are both my blood kin," Fulk replied, "but Pax will be the lord’s squire, and if, as I hope, he does well, he might even be knighted one day. One does not need to be of noble birth to be knighted. Only brave and freeborn. He will earn his freedom, and then, who knows."

Sim nodded, satisfied. "I had best get going," he said.

"God go with you, lad, and be careful," Fulk cautioned him. "Remember, you are not expected to rescue the lady. Only find Merin ap Owen’s place, and ascertain that the lady is in his custody. Then you must return to Ashlin, and tell me all you have learned."

"I understand," Sim said, "and I promise to be cautious." He mounted his horse, and moved out of the stable yard toward the gates.

Fulk watched him go, half regretting he had agreed to Sim’s suggestion, but more than aware that the lad was right. His experience was of more value here at Ashlin right now than on the trail in search of Lady Eleanore. He went off to find the priest to tell him of the change of. plan. Father Oswin was openly relieved to learn the captain was remaining.

"The men are not as certain of Sim as they are of you, my friend. He needs a bit more seasoning as does any young man," Father Oswin said. "You will be happy to learn I have seen the young lordling, and he is thriving with his new wet nurse. Maris is a good woman. She and Alyce will see the child is well cared for, and old Ida will watch over both of those two young women," he concluded with a chuckle.

"That is one less worry, praise God," Fulk said, relieved. "Now all I must do is wait for Sim to seek the answers we need, and then decide how to go about retrieving the lady."

"With God’s help we will succeed," the priest said firmly.

"In the meantime I worry how my lady has fared these past few days," Fulk replied. "It has been so wet."

***

Wet.
She had never been so wet in all her life, even in a bath, Elf thought. Her mind was as clear as a cloudless sky on a summer’s day now, but it hadn't been at first. She had been so tired when she had gone to bed that night.
Four days back?
Her dreams, at least she had thought them dreams, had been a jumble of confusion. Whispers in the darkness. She was lifted up. She floated away again, only rousing slightly when she felt the cold air on her face, but it was daylight then. Arwydd brought her a warm drink, and then she slept again, and again, and again.

She realized now that her mind was fresh, that she had been carried through the rain in a litter. Where she was she hadn't the faintest idea, but she knew her captors were Welsh by their language. She also realized that Fulk had been wise in being suspicious of Arwydd. The girl had ingratiated herself into the household at Ashlin for the sole purpose of betraying them. And yet, Arwydd remained kind. Today she had spoken softly to Elf so that no one could hear her, pushing a small bag into her hand.

"Hide this, lady," she whispered, "and for mercy’s sake, take it to stop your milk. If my mistress learns you have a child, nothing will suit her but that the child be brought to her. You were good to me, but this is all I can do for you. We will be at Gwynfr Castle in a few hours, and after that I am her obedient servant once again."

Elf sniffed the bag. It was sage. "Have you been feeding me this in my drink?" she asked.

Arwydd nodded. "Like you, lady, I know how to heal," she said simply. "My mother taught me before she died."

"Was she really English?"

"Aye, she was, poor woman," Arwydd said. "She wasn't a captive who was enslaved, though. She ran away with my father against her family’s wishes. My English grandfather was a wool merchant, she once told me. I was told to tell you that terrible story, although my life after she died has not been a happy one. My father drank himself into the grave, and then his brother, who is a whoremonger, took me in, but only to be a servant in his whorehouse. My mistress rescued me, and so I owe her my loyalty, but, as you were good to me, I have done what I could for you. From now on, however, we are even, lady," Arwydd finished.

Elf nodded, understanding the girl’s reasoning. "Tell me just one thing, Arwydd. Who is my captor?"

"Merin ap Owen, lady" came the answer, and then Arwydd moved away from Elf.

She looked about the encampment for its leader. She spotted him immediately, a tall dark-haired man with a decided air of command. No sooner had she set eyes upon him, then he turned and pierced her with a fierce look. Elf flushed, but she did not look away.

Merin ap Owen crossed his camp to where Elf sat. "How do you feel, lady?"

"How much ransom do you want?" Elf replied quietly, then added, "As to how I feel,
wet.
Could you have not sought shelter during these rains, Merin ap Owen? My husband will not pay you for a corpse."

"Your husband is in Normandy, lady, and until he returns to pay me a fine ransom for you, you will remain my guest," he told her. "Be grateful I dressed you before I stole you away," he said with a leer. Then reaching down he pulled Elf to her feet. "You are well enough to ride with me today," he said brusquely. "Come!"

Elf did not bother resisting him. It would have been an exercise in futility. He brought her over to a large dappled horse and lifted her up onto the saddle, swung himself up behind her, one arm going tightly about her waist, the other gathering the reins into his big hand. The men with him, a scruffy-looking lot, were scrambling to gain their own mounts and follow after their master. Arwydd, she saw, had her own shaggy little Welsh pony to ride. The girl no longer even looked in Elf’s direction.

Elf said nothing as they rode. Merin ap Owen was quite conversational for a time. "You may not be as comfortable at Gwynfr as you are in your own home, my lady, but you will not be badly treated. And you will have my whore for company. She says she is a nobleman’s daughter, although she is such a deceptive bitch, I cannot be certain she speaks the truth to me all the time. I believe you may know her. She claims she was your sister-in-law at one time." Merin ap Owen felt his captive stiffen within his grip. "Isleen? Isleen de Warenne," he said softly, whispering the name in her ear. "Ah, then, you do know her. So the bitch did not lie to me in this instance. That is good."

Elf could not contain her anger any longer. "That creature killed my brother! She poisoned him. You had best beware, Merin ap Owen."

"Why did she kill him?"

"She was in love with her cousin, a knight, Saer de Bude. They devised a plan between them to kill Richard. Then de Bude was to violate me so I could not take my final vows. He would, of course, do the
honorable
thing then and marry me. After a time, I suspect, I would have been poisoned so that vile creature could have her lover and my family’s lands as well, which was what she wanted all along," Elf said angrily. "I could not believe such wickedness existed, but it did. God protected me, however, and her plans were foiled."

"How?" he asked. Having heard Isleen’s version of these events, he was eager to hear the lady Eleanore’s account, which he suspected would be closer to the truth.

"De Bude moved too quickly. He tried to force me in my herbarium. One of my serfs came to my aid. My brother was dead and buried, so I escaped back to St. Frideswide's."

"But you did not take your vows," Merin ap Owen said.

"Nay. De Bude claimed he had dishonored me before the king. I was brought from my convent. The abbess and others went with me. We were able to prove that de Bude lied. The king, however, felt that Ashlin needed me more than the convent did. He also felt I needed a strong lord to hold the land. He married me to Ranulf de Glandeville. De Bude was sent to the Count of Blois’s court, and Isleen de Warenne was to be confined for the rest of her life in a nunnery."

Merin ap Owen burst out laughing. "Isleen in a nunnery? The king obviously did not know the bitch at all."

"Nay," Elf agreed, "he did not. None of us could have conceived the evil nature of that woman. It is hard to believe. And now to learn she may be at the center of this plot to steal and ransom me! It is too much to bear! I was taught to love my neighbor, to be gentle, and to be obedient, but Isleen de Warenne destroys all my good intentions, and I want nothing more than to scratch her eyes out right now!"

Merin ap Owen laughed harder. "Wonderful," he said. "You two should provide me with a constant source of amusement this winter, my lady Eleanore. Ah, look. There is Gwynfr Castl just up ahead. May I bid you welcome to my house, lady?" He mocked her.

"Go to hell!"
Elf said, for the first time in her life, swearing a wicked oath, and yet strangely she felt quite good about it.

"A bitch and a firebrand," her captor said with a deep chuckle. "This is far better than I had ever anticipated."

THE CAPTIVE

WALES 1154-1155

“
So," Isleen de Warenne said, "you have returned at last,
and
you have the little nun with you. Put her in the deepest and darkest of your dungeons! I have explored them, and they are deliciously rat-infested, my lord. Let her pray to God to keep from being eaten alive."

"Do not be absurd, my pretty bitch," Merin ap Owen said. He slid from his saddle, reached up, and lifted Elf down. "Our captive will be housed in my private apartments until her ransom is paid. That way I can be fairly certain you will not allow your evil nature to harm her and cost me a pretty penny."

"I should rather be in the dungeons," Elf snapped. She was cold. She was hungry. And she had had quite enough of Isleen. Holy Mother of God! Why had her brother not seen the creature for what she was?

"No!"
Isleen’s voice had an edge to it. "You cannot keep
her
in your own apartments, my lord. You allow no one there, not even me, and I at least am your mistress."

"I cannot trust you, Isleen. Your desire for revenge is greater than your common sense," Merin ap Owen replied.

"Revenge?"
Elf’s voice was tired, but outraged. "You want revenge upon me? For what cause, you murdering witch?"

Isleen was startled by both Elf’s tone and her attitude. This was not the meek and gentle little nun she remembered. "If," she began, "you had married Saer-"

Elf cut her short. "I should be as dead as my brother right now! Do you take me for a complete fool, Isleen, that you think I do not know what you planned in order to have your cousin
and
Ashlin?"

"My ladies, my ladies," Merin ap Owen said, his dark eyes dancing with amusement. They would come to blows if he did not stop them now. While eventually he might allow it for the amusement of those in the hall, this was not the time. "Cease your argument." He turned to Isleen, his fingers caressing her jawline. "I am master here, my pretty bitch. Remember it, or I will make certain that you do in a manner I promise you will not like. Do you understand me?" He smiled, then addressed Elf. "You cannot trust Isleen, my lady Eleanore. She will harm you given the chance, because she is basically ruled by her emotions. Do not allow yourself to be alone with her at any time. Do you understand?" He tipped Elf’s face up to his glance.

The silvery eyes glared back at him. "Do you think I do not know what she is, my lord?" Elf said coldly. "You may trust I will not seek her company or bear it willingly unless I must."

He laughed. His little captive was like a wet and spitting kitten, but he was wise enough to realize that the kitten had very sharp, claws, and would use them if provoked. "Let us go into the hall," he said. "Are you as hungry as I am, lady?"

Elf nodded.

"Good!" Merin ap Owen said, and taking her hand led her into the room and up to the high board, where he seated her on his right, much to Isleen’s outrage. His mistress took the place on his left, not at all pleased, which only increased his amusement. "Food!" the lord of Gwynfr Castle roared, and immediately a line of serving men hurried forth with platters and bowls. A young boy filled the goblets, which were set at each place.

Elf noticed that the goblets were of heavy silver, decorated with black onyx. There were silver plates and spoons at each place. She wondered from whom he had stolen them, for the castle itself was a half ruin. The meal was more than decent. There was fish, game, poultry, and lamb, accompanied with lettuces, bread, butter, and cheese. Elf did not stint herself. She was ravenous, and the food was good. She ate and drank until she was filled. When she had finished, she said bluntly, "I will want a bath, my lord. I am still badly chilled and have been traveling four days. Have someone take me to my apartments."

"By the rood, little nun, you have grown bold," Isleen said scathingly. "A bath? Do you think this is a palace?"

"Unlike some, I have been taught to bathe regularly. I do not cover my body in scents to disguise the odor of being unwashed," Elf said sharply. She was surprised at the fierceness in her breast against Isleen de Warenne, but she realized if she showed the slightest weakness, Isleen would be on her like a beast on its prey.

Merin ap Owen chuckled. "Can you care for yourself, my lady Eleanore? The only women here are you, my pretty bitch, and Arwydd."

"I am not some helpless creature, my lord. Remember, I was raised in a convent to do for myself. I had no servants until I returned home again to Ashlin. I can take care of myself, and I want neither Arwydd, nor
that creature
attending on me."

"Let Arwydd at least help you haul the water for this bath you so desperately desire, my lady Eleanore," he told her.

Surprised that he would expect her to carry her own bathwater, but refusing to give way in the face of Isleen’s smug glance, Elf said, "I should appreciate the help, my lord."

"Go along with the lady Eleanore, then, Arwydd. You know where the tub is. Set it up by the fire in my apartments," he instructed the servant calmly. "The lady Eleanore will sleep in the little chamber next to mine. While she is bathing, see the room is prepared."

"Yes, my lord," Arwydd said dutifully. Then she looked to Elf. "Will you come with me, my lady?" Her voice was devoid of any emotion.

Elf arose and followed Arwydd from the hall.

"Do you mean to spoil the bitch, then?" Isleen asked jealously.

"I hardly think making her bring enough water for her bath up two flights of stairs and then having to heat it herself is pampering the lady," he replied dryly. "Besides, it will give me a few moments' entertainment watching her bathe. I have never seen you bathe, my pretty bitch."

"Do you mean to have her, then?" Isleen demanded. Her tone was extremely pettish, and she glared at him.

Merin ap Owen smiled a slow smile, rendering the handsome side of his face even more handsome, but he did not answer her. Instead he said, "Stand up, Isleen, and place your palms flat upon the table, even as you bend your body well over."

Isleen stared at him. "You did not answer my question," she said harshly. "Do you mean to have the little nun?"

Merin ap Owen stood, yanking his mistress up by her long golden hair and forcing her body down into the required position. Leaning over her he said, "Shut your mouth, Isleen. If you refuse to obey me instantly again in front of my men, I will be forced to kill you!"

"Jesu!" she half whispered, "you do not mean to take me here before the entire hall, do you?"

In reply he lifted her skirts up slowly, tucking them into the back of her neckline. He had always thought Isleen had a particularly fine bottom. Now he viewed it at his leisure, running his hands over the smooth, round globes of flesh. When she shivered, he inclined himself again over her body and murmured softly in her ear, "Ah, you have been faithful to me this time, my pretty bitch, haven't you?"

"Did you think any of your men would service my needs after you hung those two fools before your little foray into England, my lord?" she returned scathingly.

"Are you ready for my pleasure?" he demanded.

"Nay," she said softly.

"Then, I must see you are prepared," he told her with a chuckle. He stood again, and raising his hand brought it down hard upon her buttocks.

Isleen squealed sharply, and the men at the trestls below the high board now looked up with interest, several of them grinning and making lewd gestures with their hands.

"For each time you cry out," he told her, "I shall add an additional two strokes. I shall now render you twelve instead of ten, my pretty bitch." His hand descended upon her hapless flesh again, smacking her until the correct number of blows had been properly delivered and her buttocks were a bright pink. "Are you ready for me now?" he said.

"Yes!"
Isleen cried out, and then gasped as he thrust himself into her female channel.
"Ahhhh!"
She shuddered, feeling his thick manhood probing her lustily.

He laughed as she ground her hot bottom into his groin. "You are the perfect whore, Isleen," he told her as he eagerly pumped her. His fingers gripped her hips, leaving red marks on the white skin. He used her hard, making her cry aloud again and again as his men watched avidly, their mouths open in admiration, some of them even fondling themselves in their excitement. Finally Merin ap Owen was well satisfied, and he withdrew from her.

For a long moment Isleen lay prone over the table, and then with a deep sigh of satisfaction, she arose. "You are a fine lover, my lord," she told him, pulling her skirts down. "I will wager the little nun will not satisfy you as I can."

He sat back down again and drank deeply from his goblet. "Are you jealous, my pretty bitch?" he asked her mockingly.

"Why will you not imprison her?"

"Because she has done nothing to displease me," he replied. "She is a gentle and good lady. I have no quarrel with her. I simply want a ransom from her husband. It is a business transaction, my pretty bitch. Nothing more."

"Then, why not give her her own rooms?" Isleen persisted.

"Because, as I told you earlier, I do not trust you; and because there are no other rooms fit for a lady such as the lady Eleanore," he said. She was jealous, and it amused him to taunt her.

"Then, give her my apartment, and keep me with you," Isleen half pleaded. "I would be at your complete disposal, my lord, and eager to do whatever you wished me to do." She caught his hand in hers.

"Nay, my pretty bitch. It is better that the lady Eleanore is where I am, and where all know I permit no one else to enter," he replied. "My prisoner is very beautiful, and I would return her to her husband as I found her.
Or almost,"
he mocked his mistress.

"You think her beautiful?"
Isleen felt her temper rising. He had never called her beautiful, but he thought the little nun beautiful? "I never before heard it said that Eleanore de Montfort was beautiful, my lord Merin. It is I who am considered a beauty." Isleen preened at him, smiling winningly.

"You are pretty enough," Merin ap Owen told her, "but you are not as beautiful as the lady Eleanore. I know the English consider golden hair and blue eyes such as yours a standard of beauty, but I do not. I find the lady Eleanore with her silvery eyes and pale red-gold hair, her translucent skin, her sweetness of expression, far more beautiful than your common prettiness. Has no one ever told you that? Or have all the men in your life fallen at your feet in awe of your golden and sapphire coloring? You are as wicked as I am, Isleen. That evil is beginning to show through in your face. The lady Eleanore, however, has a good heart, and that is what shows in her fair face."

"You are falling in love with her,"
Isleen accused him.

He laughed harshly. "Nay," he said. Then he stood again. "I am going to my apartments now, my pretty bitch. Come, and I will see you to your chamber so I may be certain to know where you are." He pulled her up, and dragged her from the high board.

Isleen swore virulently at him as they went. "You are a dog, Merin ap Owen. I will not play your bitch for much longer if you do not treat me better. Have a care! You are bruising my wrist. Owwww! Do not pull me by my hair, you bastard!"

In the narrow stone hallway of the castle, he pushed her against the hard wall, banging her head as he did. "Listen to me. You belong to
me
and me alone. You are no better than a slave, Isleen. You will do what
I
say, when
I
say it, as long as it pleases
me.
I will tell you when
I
am through with
you,
and not you me." His fingers dug cruelly into the soft flesh of her shoulder.
"Do you understand me, Isleen? "
His dark eyes blazed at her.

Isleen was afraid in that single moment. This man was like no other she had ever known. He terrified her, and yet she adored him with every fiber of her being. She would not let Eleanore de Montfort steal him away and ruin her life yet a second time! She would make Merin ap Owen love her.
She would!
"I understand, my lord," she said low.

"Good," he said. "Very good, my pretty bitch." They ascended the staircase, passing his apartment, then moving into the even narrower staircase leading to her apartment in the tower. He opened the door and pushed her through. "Do not come out until the morning, Isleen. I will send Arwydd to you. Once she is inside, I will loose the mastiffs. They will tear you to pieces if you try to enter my apartments. Good night." He pulled the door shut and descended down to the next level, where his own rooms were located. Entering, he said to Arwydd, "Go to your mistress, and be warned, the mastiffs will be loosed shortly. Remain with your lady until the morning."

"Yes, my lord." Arwydd curtsied, and hurried out.

Merin ap Owen glanced about and saw the tub had already been taken from before the fire. Walking into his bedchamber, he looked through into the tiny interior chamber opposite his bed. "You have not prepared yourself for bed yet," he said to Elf, who was fully dressed. "Are your garments not damp from the rain?"

"There is no door, or curtain to provide me with privacy," Elf told him.

"It is better that you are where I can see you," he said. "Take off your gown, lady. As you so pithily reminded me earlier, your husband will not pay me for a corpse. I am certain your chemise is a modest enough garment, and my baser instincts can be kept in check. Besides, if I wanted your virtue, my lady Eleanore, I could take it no matter you were dressed in armor."

She stared at him, not certain if she was shocked or amused by his words. "Blow out the candles on the candle stand," she said finally.

"Very well," he replied, complying. Then watching her shadow, for the bedchamber fire gave some light, he drew his own garments off and climbed into his bed. "Sleep well, lady," he said.