Immortal Warrior (25 page)

Lord Robert mounted and took his place beside Alaida as they rode out the gate, leaning close to say something to her that made her smile. Good, he was starting to work on her already. Neville watched them away, then went off and found a dark corner of the barn. There he spilled into the hay after only a few quick strokes, imagining how she would look when Robert put her on her knees and took her from behind, like the bitch she was.

 

DE JEUNE VEERED north and west out the gate, headed toward the Aln woods. Ari immediately caught Alaida’s eye. “Your pardon, my lady, but did you not say you wished to ride Swinlees soon? Perhaps today would do.”

She had said no such thing, but there was a tautness beneath Ari’s words that made the hair rise on the back of her neck. He didn’t want her in the woods with Lord Robert and his men—and if Ari didn’t want it, that was reason enough.

“You’re good to remind me,
messire
. My lord, may we ride south instead?”

Without waiting for de Jeune’s agreement, she turned Lark toward Swinlees, with Ari and her men following in close order. Lord Robert shot an irritated glance at Ari as he and his knights came about to rejoin her. “Of course, my lady. The outing is for you, after all.”

The problem then became finding some purpose for this visit to what was, after all, nothing more than pasture. She asked Ari to remind her of the bounds, which he did with impressive accuracy for one so new to Alnwick, discussed the number of sheep the field could support, and was trying to come up with some other pressing reason she had wanted to see it when Edric pointed out a small herd of deer grazing far to the south.

“Shall we give chase?” asked Lord Robert.

“We are in the Easter fast, my lord,” said Alaida. “’Tis wasteful to hunt game we may not eat.”

“Not hunt, my lady, merely chase.” He reached across to lay a hand over hers. “For the sport of it.”

She could find no fault with that, so she nodded and they were off, running the deer until they finally bounded off into a thicket of furze. Alaida pulled up, unwilling to shred her gown on the thorns.

“Well done, my lady,” said Lord Robert as he reined in beside her. “You have a good seat and ride fearlessly. Shall we continue on?” He motioned south.

“Much farther and we will be in the mire.”

“Then you lead. We will go where you wish.”

She hadn’t realized how tightly she’d been holding her shoulders until they turned back toward Alnwick. It really was just a ride with a well-mannered nobleman—though he was riding a bit too closely, she noted when his calf brushed hers for a second time. He proffered a charming smile. “Your pardon, my lady.”

“Of course. Have you had a chance to look down on the castle, my lord?”

“With the weather, I have not.”

“Then I know the place. You can see how the land lies.”

She led him to the wide clearing at its crest, where they could see village below with its half-plowed fields all around. The hall and its outbuildings squatted like giants among the tiny cottages and huts, but from this vantage it was clear the tower and motte would soon dwarf them all.

“I still think it foolish to leave the high ground to the enemy.” Lord Robert gestured toward the ancient hill fort that lay ruined nearby. “They knew that even in the old days.”

“But this fortress fell or was abandoned, my lord, and those who came after settled below for good reason,” said Ari. “Lord Ivo elects to follow their lead.”

“The manor has survived a good many years in its spot, Lord Robert,” added Alaida. “A well-built castle with a strong force to defend it will stand a good many years more.”

She hoped for Lord Robert to answer in some way that would let her broach the subject of that force, so much of which moldered in the king’s dungeons, but he merely nodded. “Perhaps.”

He studied the land a little longer, until Alaida finally pointed out the fading afternoon. “We should return before it grows chill.”

“Mmm.” He straightened and gave her a brilliant smile, one that made him look twenty years younger. “I propose a race to take us back. My men against yours, from here to the edge of that first field, with the winner having a prize from each of us. What say you, my lady? “

She looked to Ari, who shrugged as though he didn’t care, though she knew he had a fast horse. “Excellent. It will be good entertainment.”

“For judges, I suggest your serving woman and groom, and my Sir Wakelin here,” said Lord Robert.

Again, Alaida nodded, and the three of them cantered off.

“Now, for prizes,” said Lord Robert. He twisted a heavy silver ring off his forefinger and held it up. “This ring from me. And from Lady Alaida . . . ?”

She thought quickly what she might have of similar value. “A sturdy belt, with a bronze buckle and strap end.”

“May I race, too, my lady?” asked Tom, who had managed to keep quiet all afternoon.

“Let the boy try his luck,” said Lord Robert, so she nodded assent.

The judges reached their spot, the riders lined up, and with the drop of Lord Robert’s arm, they were off. Laughing, Alaida made to go after them, but Lord Robert cut her off and grabbed Lark’s bridle.

“Loiter here with me a little, my lady. We have not made a wager between ourselves.”

Alaida looked after the racers vanishing down the hill, Ari well in the lead. “Hurry then. What would you have?”

“If my man wins, a kiss. And if your man wins . . . a kiss.”

Alaida felt a sudden chill that had nothing to do with the breeze. “I am married, my lord.”

“You are lonely.” He tugged Lark closer, so his leg pressed the length of Alaida’s, powerful and lean. “You’re barely a bride, and have been apart from your husband as much as you have been with him. It has been in your eyes all week, how you long for a man’s company.”

“I long only for my husband.”

“In his absence, another man may suffice. It is the way of the world.”

“Not my world.”

He smiled as though she’d said something amusing. “You need not pretend here, sweeting. We are alone. I desire you, and you desire me.”

“You are mistaken, my lord. I do not.”

“You will find me a considerate lover, Alaida. I will give you great pleasure, as you will me. Say yes.”

Alaida’s heart raced in alarm. If she angered this man, he could destroy her, her grandfather, her uncle, her husband, Alnwick, all with one word to the king. Lord Robert read her hesitation as consent and quickly snaked his free hand behind her head. She pulled back, but he was fit and strong, and short of falling out of the saddle, there was nowhere to go. He drew her to him easily. His lips touched her cheek, cool and dry.

“Imagine lying beneath me, feeling our bodies meld,” he murmured against her skin. “Send your women elsewhere tonight. I will come to you in that lonely bed of yours and make your body sing.”

“I am a faithful wife and will remain so,
monseigneur
.” Her voice was low and even as she gathered herself to fight if she must. “Release me.”

“One kiss first, to show you how it can be.”

His mouth covered hers, greedy and hard, his tongue stabbing into her lips as he sought entrance to her mouth. She brought her crop back, ready to lash his face, king’s emissary or no.

Something fell from the sky before she had to make that choice, a screaming storm of wings and talons that shrieked past them inches overhead. Lord Robert was jerked away, cursing, as his horse reared in fright. Freed, Lark skittered backward, Alaida clutching at the saddle for balance. The eagle streaked past her again to hit Lord Robert like an arrow. Robert howled in pain as the bird pounded off with his coif and a chunk of his scalp. Blood poured down his face.

Alaida put her heels to Lark and left Robert to bleed, pelting down the hill before he could regain his wits. Below, Edric or one of the others saw her flight, and the Alnwick men raced back with Lord Robert’s men hard on their heels. Ari was first to her.

“Lord Robert is injured. See to him,” she shouted, barely slowing. Ari snapped a few quick orders and the other men closed around her. They pushed the horses hard, whipping into the village past startled cottagers, not stopping until she was safe within Alnwick walls.

 

“UGLY WOUND THAT,” said Bôte as she entered the solar carrying her box of salves and herbs. “’Tis clean, so it will heal well, but he’ll not grow hair there again.”

“How unfortunate,” said Alaida, thinking the opposite. She had not said a word about their guest’s attempt at seduction, not even to Bôte, instead letting them all think she had fled from the eagle. Unless he was a fool, Lord Robert would tell the same lie, at least in front of others—and there would be others every moment from here forward, Alaida vowed to herself, if she had to order the entire village into the hall to ensure it. She had no less than ten women with her right now.

“I wonder what demon got into that eagle, to make him go after Lord Robert like that,” said Bôte as she busied herself lighting more candles.

“No demon but the fur on his lordship’s coif,” said Alaida, blessing the coif, the fur, and the eagle all in one silent prayer between words. “The poor creature likely thought he was getting an easy meal.”

“Poor creature?” said Hadwisa doubtfully.

“How would you feel, if you thought you were to have squirrel for supper and got only boiled wool and hair?”

They all laughed, but Bôte said, “Well, he had better enjoy whatever meal he finds today, for Lord Robert vows to put an arrow through him on the morrow.”

“He cannot. He has no right to hunt on Alnwick land without leave.”

“But the bird attacked him, my lady.”

“It attacked a
cap.
I will not have it killed for that.”

“I thought you were frightened of it, my lady,” said Rohesia, in for another day’s spinning. “Edric says you rode like Satan himself was after you.”

“The suddenness of the attack startled me, that’s all. And all that blood.”

That last made Bôte turn and give her a hard look. Blood had never bothered Alaida, even as a child, and Bôte well knew it. Her lips pursed and unpursed thoughtfully. “Thomas, go tell Lord Robert that my lady does not want the eagle killed.”

Tom popped up from his stool in the corner and disappeared. He slipped back in a few moments later. “Lord Robert says he would hear your reasons from your own lips, my lady, and that he will sup with you in the solar in order to discuss it.”

“He will not,” said Alaida, so firmly that Bôte gave her another hard look. “Call Sir Ari to attend me.”

“He’s gone, my lady,” said Tom.

“Is it so late already?”

“Aye, they carry out the trestles for supper now. Geoffrey calls for Mildryth and the others to come.”

The women who had duty in the hall rose to go, but Alaida held up a hand to keep them. “Geoffrey will have to do without you tonight. Thomas, how many of Alnwick’s men are in the hall so far, and how many of Lord Robert’s?”

“All of Lord Robert’s knights and their squires, plus his two pages. Of ours, Oswald, Geoffrey, Penda, Daegmund . . .” He continued listing, ticking them off on his fingers. When he had gone through all his fingers twice, she stopped him.

“And all the hired men,” he added, but she couldn’t count on them.

“Run and tell anyone still in the yard or stables to come in for supper.”

Bôte gave her another piercing look as Tom dashed out. “What are you about, my lady?”

“Seeing that everyone is fed.” She gave Tom a little time to do as she bid, then rose. “Bôte, ask Oswald and Penda to wait on the stairs.”

She waited in the doorway until the two men were in place, then took a deep breath and stepped out on the landing. Below her, the Alnwick men sat scattered around the hall, with more drifting in the door. The visiting knights filled the upper tables, and on the dais, de Jeune occupied the lord’s chair as though it were his own, while Neville bent to whisper in his ear.
Neville
. Her lip curled as she watched Lord Robert murmur something back. She should have known. If Sir Brand were here, she would ask him to gut the little stoat as a favor.

But he wasn’t, and neither was her husband. She would have to do her best without them. “Oh, Lord Robert.”

She made her voice high and sweet, so it tinkled out over the hall like a bell, calling every man to silence. De Jeune came to his feet eagerly. “My lady. I am at your service.”

“I wish to speak to you about the eagle,” she said, keeping the same agreeable tone.

A smile spread over his face and he started for the stair. The fool actually believed he could win her, bandage and all.

“There is no need for you to come up,
monseigneur
. It is more convenient to speak to you there.” She heard Oswald and Penda shift to better block the stair as de Jeune’s smile faded. “I come only to repeat the message I sent with my page. The eagle is not to be harmed.”

“You have a tender heart, my lady, but the bird is dangerous. Lord Ivo will thank me for dealing with it in his absence.”

“He will not. Especially if you do so against my wishes.” She sighed as if the whole thing could not be helped, keeping her eyes fixed firmly on de Jeune despite some sort of stir at the door. “Have you not noticed,
monseigneur
? The eagle is my husband’s sign. And that particular eagle is . . . a sort of pet of mine.”

“Then you should control your pets better, my lady,” he said, which drew snickers from Neville and some of the others.

“I said a sort of pet,
monseigneur
, though a wild one, I grant. He flies along sometimes when I ride. It pleases me.”

His eyes narrowed. “Surely it did not please you to see my head laid open.”

“No, but it will please me even less to see the creature die for being true to its nature. As I told my women, he likely mistook the fur on your chape for a . . . a wood rat.” This time it was the Alnwick men who snickered. She smiled grimly as she added, “Or perhaps he thought to protect me.”