A Witch's Tale (17 page)

“I
think it obvious he wishes to have you accused of cheating after, my lord.”

“I
will take care. Inform the men to keep watch over all.”

Alastair
gazed at Madeline in gratitude after Gavin retired to the tent to remove his
gear.

“No more
spying upon Rohan, Madeline,” Alastair told her under his breath, dark eyes
boring into hers. “You’ve given us enough to be wary in the coming days.”

“What
is Lady Strathmore’s game?” Madeline asked, her eyes meeting his and saw his
avoid hers now.

“She
and Gavin were involved for a time while she visited the Scottish court,” he
told her grimly. “The lady has no doubt learned of your presence here with
Gavin. She can be quite vindictive. You must take care, Madeline.”

Madeline
nodded and retreated to get her things, eager to bathe after cleaning up after
Rohan’s horse. One sniff told her she needed a bath. She hoped Gavin was too
tired to smell the stench of hay and horse dung upon her during their trip into
the city. She’d have a hard time explaining it.

Gavin
was quite tired and talked little on the way to the brothel. They made short
work of attaining baths. She saw his weary features and felt for him. The last
days were wearing on him. She brightened to recall a remedy to give him some
relief.

When
they returned to camp the men sat about the fire, speaking quietly with
Alastair. All appeared outraged to learn Strathmore intended to cheat once
more. All vowed to keep an eye out for the man and Rohan in the coming days.

Madeline
decided another visit to the tiltyards was forthcoming. She could get closer to
Rohan than the others. He thought her to be Mad, the groom. He would pay her
little mind and she could find out what Strathmore intended. He would ignore
her presence and she could glean far more than the men.

The
thought of her daring disguise gave her a feeling of excitement. She grew bored
these last days before the main tournament. Gavin fell into an exhausted
slumber each night, too tired to do more than kiss her lips before falling
asleep next to her. When she woke before first light; he was gone.

Mad
the groom would arrive to care for Sir Rohan’s horse on the morrow. She was
certain there was more to Strathmore’s scheme that met the eye. She was
determined to learn all before the match to warn Gavin. He could not lose. This
one thing she could do for the man she loved before he left her.

****

Madeline
changed quickly after the men left and secured the tent. She knew Henry was
lingering behind today and sent him on an errand before she left for the
tiltyards.

When
she arrived to the barn, she approached Sir Rohan’s horse and the animal
snorted at her, ungracious for her efforts the day before. She petted the
animals’ silky nose and offered him some grain.

“Don’t
over feed him or he will be sluggish today, Mad,” Sir Rohan snapped as he
approached, making her jump at the sight of him. The man glared at her and
raised an eyebrow, dark eyes snapping. “Where did you run off to yesterday? I
had need of you.”

“I
got other jobs to see to,” she grumbled and climbed down from the slat in the
stall. “You’re not the only knight needing a groom, Sir Rohan.”

Rohan
grinned at the boy’s surly tone. His dark eyes twinkled as he reached into his
pocket and withdrew a coin and tossed it to him. Madeline caught it in midair,
hand snaking out to catch it.

“My
thanks, let it not be said I do not reward those efforts,” he said as the boy
pocketed the coin. “We’ve a busy day and I need you to look sharp.”

“Who
ye be challenging today, Sir Rohan?”

“Sir
de Mortaine meets me on the field today,” he informed her. “We have two full
days before the tournament begins. I would see what the man is made of before
he meets me on the field.”

“I
hear he’s the one to beat, Sir Rohan.”

Rohan
glared at his words. “And beat him I will! I have not come all this way to do
any less. I will send de Mortaine running back to Scotland, you will see.”

“Ye
got a problem with Sir de Mortaine?”

Rohan
shrugged and his handsome face reflected no deceit. “I don’t even know the man.
It is my noble sponsor who has issue with him.”

“That
would be Lord Strathmore?” Madeline asked and poured water in the horses
bucket. “I heard the tales.”

Rohan
eyed the boy curiously. “What have you heard, Mad?”

“The
old one’s say Strathmore had de Mortaine’s Father falsely accused of throwing
the match years ago, got him banished.”

The
knight appeared to reflect those words, his face grim. “I know nothing of that.
I was promised much to win the day for the man.”

“They
say his daughter’s hand is part of the prize.”

Rohan
grimaced and made a sound of disgust. “Ah yes, the Lady Lucinda. A pity, but
one can’t have one without the other.”

“She
be ugly, Sir?”

“She’s
nearly as round as she is tall with the braying laugh of a jack ass. Such is my
luck, Mad.”

“Or
de Mortaine’s, Sir Rohan?”

Rohan
nodded and grinned. “Yes, well one would certainly not blame me for taking a
dive from my horse at the last to avoid Lady Lucinda, unless de Mortaine thinks
of it himself.”

Rohan
laughed at his own words and took his leave. Madeline bristled to know the
baron’s words were true. She was pleased Lady Lucinda was as unappealing as
Rohan said. She cared for the horse and stole quietly out of the barn, spying
upon Rohan as he joined Strathmore. She crept under the stands to get closer,
careful to avoid being seen. She drew close enough to listen.

Strathmore
was in his early fifties now and completely grey. She could see he was once
quite handsome, if not for the cruel light in his pale eyes. Even from the
short distance under the stands, she sensed his evil aura.

“I
don’t know what you’re after, my lord, but it has nothing to do with me,” Rohan
snapped as he towered over the regally dressed older man, glaring down at him.
“You would ask me to lose now? For what; I demand to know?”

“Oh,
you will not lose, Sir Rohan,” Strathmore said smoothly, his eyes filled with
amusement. “You will win by default when it’s discovered de Mortaine cheated.
Just sit back and say nothing. You will gain Rivenhahl, have no fear.”

Rohan
looked disgusted. “Why the need for games my lord? I can beat the man! I don’t
understand why you feel the need to do this.”

Strathmore
appeared angry. “You will do as you’re told, Sir Rohan. You wanted a title and
riches, did you not? What’s one man’s honor to that? You don’t even know de
Mortaine. Why would you possibly care if he is clapped into the tower by week’s
end?”

“Why
do you hate the man, my lord?” Rohan asked. “Perhaps if you could explain what
the man has done to show such insult to you; I could accept all in my own
mind.”

Strathmore
chuckled and shook his head. “I knew his sire. I don’t know his son. The insult
is no insult at all, just my desire to handpick the new Lord of Rivenhahl. You
will owe me much when you gain your estates, Rohan.”

“I
should have known your offer bore strings, my lord,” Rohan remarked coolly.
“What is it you really want?”

“King
James buys his friends, as well we know,” Strathmore said in disgust. “Did he
not knight over three hundred men on his progress here? The man has more nobles
in this country now than peasants, never a good thing. I seek one loyal to only
my cause.” Strathmore’s chuckle sent shivers down Madeline’s spine. “I will
tell you all in due time, Sir Rohan. Let us just say; you will take a fall from
your horse. It will later be determined de Mortaine cheated. He will lose the
ear of our king, and you gain Rivenhahl.”

“I
would know why I help destroy a man’s honor, my lord.”

Strathmore
shrugged. “The man is much like his father. He has Stuart’s ear. That is reason
enough for me. If he gets back his title and estates; it is clear to me he will
stand in my way.”

Rohan
absorbed his words with a frown. “I didn’t agree to ride for you to cheat, my
lord.”

“You
wanted a title, did you not?” Strathmore asked and shrugged. “What do you care
if de Mortaine pays the price?”

Rohan
said nothing more. Strathmore left him to return to the king’s side. Madeline
backed away and scooted from under the stands. She was disturbed by the fact
Strathmore’s goals seemed far more sinister than they thought.

Madeline
entered the barn and tugged at the heavy saddle on the stall door, knowing she
was expected to ready the animal. She could hardly lift the saddle and huffed
and puffed, before she set it down. Goldwyn gave her an indignant look,
snorting at her angrily.

She
gazed at the horse with a pained look. “I guess there is no point in asking you
to saddle yourself?”

When I was a child
there was an old woman in our neighborhood
whom we called The Witch.
All day she peered from her second story window
from behind the wrinkled curtains
and sometimes she would open the window
and yell: Get out of my life!

Rohan
returned to the barn and saw Mad’s backside presented to him as the boy
attempted to saddle his charger. His breath caught in his throat when he got a
glimpse down the boy’s shirt front as he bent to retrieve the saddle once more.
It was no boy, but a lady he saw. The sight of one full, curved ivory breast
made his breath catch, his eyes darkening.

“Look
sharp, Mad. We have much to do today,” he called out as he approached, his eyes
sliding over the delicate features in disgust. How he could have thought those
features were those of a boy just showed how distracted he was during this
match.

He
felt excitement as he watched Mad tug at the saddle. His eyes traced the
delectable derriere with interest, his loins tightening in response. His anger
at being tricked by the woman dissolved as he determined to ascertain why she
pretended to be a groom.

Those
large blue eyes avoided his. “Ye ride against de Mortaine this morn, Sir. It is
the talk of the yard.”

Rohan
smiled as he approached, wanting to jerk the knit cap off the girl’s head to
see what color her hair was, his eyes tracing her perfectly slashed dark red
brows with interest. Standing close enough, he caught the faintest hint of
lavender. His dark eyes burned with interest and more than a little desire as
he saw her bent over the saddle, having decidedly wicked thoughts of Mad. The
woman was obviously playing some game. He would get to the bottom of it.

“Who
do you wager on to win, Mad?” he asked curiously as he looked down at the woman
disguised as his new groom in consideration.

Mad
looked up from where he was bent and his blue eyes met his quickly before
looking away. “I haven’t a thought, Sir Rohan.”

Rohan
was enjoying himself now, eager to draw the woman out of her disguise. “Oh but
you must have, all this time you spend down here. Which of us would you put
your coin on to win, Mad?”

The
boy shuffled under his spearing gaze and stammered. “I…I don’t make bets, Sir.”

“You
look like a betting man to me, Mad” Rohan replied as he gazed down at the boy.
“You take risks don’t you, Boy?”

“Not
often. No, Sir.”

“Oh,
I think you take many risks, Mad,” Rohan replied with gleaming black eyes.
“Come now, don’t feel you injure my feelings. I would know which of us you
would choose as your champion.”

Mad
mumbled under his breath. “I haven’t thought of it, Sir Rohan.”

Rohan
grinned and enjoyed the game. “Think of it and tell me who you would choose.”

Mad
appeared flustered then. “Why does my opinion matter, Sir Rohan?”

“You
are my groom. I would know where your loyalties lay, Boy.”

“Certainly
I put my wager on you, Sir Rohan,” Mad said and nodded stoutly.

“Goldwyn
needs his stall cleaned out once more,” Rohan said and delighted in the way the
girl’s lips tightened in annoyance. “When you finish with that, he needs a good
lye bath. Brush him until he glows. I want only the best feed given to him.”

“Will
there be anything else, Sir Rohan?” Mad asked coolly.

“No,
that will be all, Mad,” he said and smiled mockingly. “Was there more you
wished to do for me? I want you back here before the dinner hour, so don’t run
off.”

The
girl’s face reddened and she grumbled as she turned to see about the tasks he
gave her. Rohan left the barn whistling, vowing to discover who she was. He had
matters of his own to attend to.

His
squire Burroughs took to eavesdropping upon de Mortaine and his men in the
festival tent. Try as he might, he couldn’t go through with what Strathmore
asked of him. He theorized if he could find some means to despise the man, he
could do as he asked. The bitter gall he felt told him otherwise.