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Authors: Roberta Gellis

Tags: #Romance, #Historical

Joanna (64 page)

BOOK: Joanna
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“So you did think of that. I was afraid that in the heat of the fighting you would forget and be tempted to pursue them.”

“Will you stop thinking of me as an idiot babe! It is one thing to play at games with you. It is quite another to play the fool in battle. I am too well taught to be carried away by the ‘heat of fighting’ or any other kind of heat either.”   It was the truth. Adam was a man, completely a man. Joanna saw that he had even given orders to the men before coming to her. The whole were already binding up the wounds of the injured and getting them on horses, those sorely hurtof whom there were very fewtied pillion behind others lightly hurt but not sound enough to fight. These Adam then ordered to ride ahead with Joanna, Sir Guy, Sir Léon, and about twenty unhurt men. The remainder would stay behind with him to guard the rear.

“It remains only to decide where you want to go,” Adam said.

“I had thought to go to Dover and take ship there for Flanders with a Lowlander who does not love the French and would agree to some tale concerning whence I came, but nowDover is too far, I think, and my last wish is to Feed to wait for the ferry to cross the Thames while those from the keep ride down upon us.”

“If that is best for you, I will make shift to hold them off,” Adam assured her.

“No,” Joanna replied. “I think now I will ride for Mersea. The distance is not much farther and I can be sure of a safe haven from FitzWalter or anyone else if there is no ship to take me at once.”

The first hour of their journey was tense because it was necessary to ride back almost under the very gates of Horndon to strike the road for Mersea. They drove their horses as hard as they could, considering the work the beasts had already had. When all except Adam’s great gray destrier were stumbling and plodding with hanging heads, Adam at last called a rest. Joanna went at once to see to the wounded men as well as she could with only the few salves she carried for a chance hurt on a journey. She had a full stock of medicine packed away, but that was for Geoffrey if he needed it and she would not use a fingerful for any other purpose.

Adam had had no rest at all since dawn the preceding day. Even the tameless energy of his big body and his youth must be a little worn down by thirty-six hours of responsibility and violent activity. When Joanna was finished doing   what she could for the men, she found her brother asleep. She moved away knowing she would disturb his rest if she sat and stared at him. Probably she should follow his example, Joanna thought, but she was too keyed up to rest and, after a moment’s consideration, sought out the prize that all this effort had won.

Sir Léon was sitting with his back against a tree with Knud’s eye upon him. When Joanna approached, obviously about to speak to him, Knud prodded the prisoner roughly to his feet, hissing, “You stand and bow when the lady comes near, hear!”

“That is not necessary, Knud,” Joanna said caustically, “Sir Léon is not my man, after all. If his manners are of the gutter, it is no affair of yours or mine.” She waited a moment, but the man simply gaped at her, and she shrugged scornfully. “Ah, well, I see the ‘gentleman’ is too proudin spite of the fact that I have just bought him free. I will accept your courtesy, Knud.”

Having been his mistress’s escort many times, Knud knew what was expected of him during a rest period too short to bother unpacking. He whipped off his cloak and laid it doubled on the ground for Joanna to sit upon. “Shall I make a ‘rest’ for you, lady?” he asked.

Joanna smiled. “No, move the cloak to the tree. Go and lie down. I will give warning if our ‘guest’ should take any odd notions.”

Obediently, Knud moved a little distance away, too far to hear low voices but near enough to get at Sir Léon should he try to run or make a threatening gesture toward Joanna.

“Madam,” Sir Léon said at last in a voice made thin by bewilderment, “what do you mean ‘you have bought me free?’ Who are you? What is going on? Was that fight over me? If so, someone is badly mistaken. I am a simple knight, of no value to anyone except my own family.”

Joanna’s cold expression softened somewhat. Perhaps the man was not deliberately rude but simply bemused. It was true that she had not told him anything, but she assumed he would have been told by the castellan that his ransom was being paid. She gestured to him to be seated.   “I am the Lady Joanna of Roselynde and I have paid your ransom. The fight had nothing to do with you. That was a private matter and need be no concern of yours.

Sir Léon plumped down on the ground as if the strength had gone out of his legs. “Paid my ranson,” he breathed, “Why?”

“Because your wife holds my husband and she would not agree to free him unless I brought you as well as the money.”

“My wife? Gilliane?” There was blank incredulity in Sir Léon’s face.

Astonished at his surprise, Joanna raised her brows. “Is there some reason why your wife should not desire to have you back?”

Before he could reply to the provocative question, Sir Guy came to ask Joanna if she wished to eat or drink. His deferential manner and the fact that he served Joanna himself and then discreetly withdrew out of earshot, made Sir Léon’s eyes open.

“The lord of Roselynde must be a great man,” he said.

“There is no lord of Roselynde,” Joanna snapped. “My mother is the lady of Roselynde. I will be the lady after her, and my daughterGod grant me onewill be lady after me. My husband is Lord Geoffrey Fitz William. His sons may have his lands.”

For a minute that proud speech held Sir Léon mute. He blinked, cleared his throat, and recalled his mind with some effort to what was more essential to him than the inconceivable fact of a woman with power and the will to use it.

“Then I am free? But”

“You will be free when Lord Geoffrey is by my side.”

“But how is that to be managed? I will give parole gladly, of course, but it will be difficult for me”

“You have nothing to say or to do except by my order,” Joanna remarked succinctly, “until, as I said, Lord Geoffrey is at liberty. I will take you to France and to your keep, and I will hold you straitly until my husband is released.”


You
will take me to France? Butbuta woman I   have heard little news, it is true. Is the war over? Is a treaty signed?”

“What are wars to me?” Joanna snapped. “I go to free my husband, and with God’s helpwhich I do not doubt to have because God helps those who help themselvesI will accomplish my purpose. Until then, I will take your parole not to try to escape, but there will be sharp eyes and strong arms to see that you do not. If you do not wish to be trussed like a fowl and carried like a sack of oats, you would do well to keep your word. If you are honest, you will have as easy a journey as I. If you are notI will give you reason to be sorry for it.”

Joanna pulled back her skirt a little and curled her legs under her preparatory to rising. She looked at Sir Léon, even extended a hand toward him, but he merely stared at it uncomprehendingly. Before the hand was withdrawn, both Sir Guy and Knud were beside her. Rank has its privileges. Joanna placed her hand in Sir Guy’s and he lifted her to her feet. She looked down at Sir Léon, shook her head, and laughed.

“I hope, Sir Leon, that your neglect was owing to resentment. If it was not, I understand well why you were surprised that your wife should want you back. Certainly I would not. I imagine any woman could do very well without the company of so coarse a lout. My common servant is more ‘gentle’ in his manners.”

Until that moment resentment was very far from Sir Léon’s mind. His emotions were compounded equally of amazement at Joanna’s personality, puzzlement at how his wife had come to hold so important a prisoner, and gratitude to everyone and anyone for having brought about a thing he had almost ceased to hope for. The contempt with which Joanna regarded him stung, however, specially as he did not see how he had deserved it. He had been taken prisoner, but certainly not through tame yielding, and that could happen to any man overwhelmed by superior force. Besides, her own husband had been taken prisoner. That Joanna felt no contempt for Lord Geoffreyin spite of the queer things   she said about his propertywas clear enough.

Each time she sneered at him Sir Léon thought, she had demeaned his manners. Wherein had they failed? He had not spit nor stuck his fingers in his nose nor passed wind. And what had manners to do with whether Gilliane wanted him back? Of course she wanted him back. She was a woman, capable only of sewing and overseeing the duties of the house. He watched, bemused, as a dozen men hastily shed their cloaks so that some could be spread on the ground, the knight’s folded and used for a pillow for Joanna to lie down upon. Ridiculous! If they had to fight again the men would be stiff and cold. Voices then were hushed; if a man wished to speak, he plucked his partner by the sleeve and drew well away. One would think the creature was made of glass, and yet Sir Léon himself had seen her ride as hard as any man and watch a battle from scarce a spear’s length away without blanching.

From the time of that rest, from which all rose greatly refreshed, everything went right. The weather was good; they were not pursued; and when they came to Mersea there was a ship in harbor that would admirably serve their purpose. The merchant had cargo for Bruges. He would deliver that, then sail to Dunkerque, where Joanna and her party would debark. If they were questioned at the port, the master would agree to a simple tale. Sir Léon had gone to Bruges to bring home a recently widowed, childless sister. There he had fallen ill and was still too weak to bear arms. Thus, he had hired Sir Guy and five other men to protect him, his sister, and her dower (the excuse for the baggage carrying Geoffrey’s ranson) which was, of course, being returned with her.

Sir John had gasped with shock and then argued violently against Joanna’s trip to France. He had offered himself as her deputy. He had reasoned, appealed to Adam for supportand failed. Adam was aware that most women were not capable of such things, but that had nothing to do with his mother and his sister. Most women were good only for futtering; one could not talk to them nor depend upon them for anything. Barring going into battle, however,   Alinor and Joanna could do anythingand they were the only women
worth
anything.

Even Adam had protested at the small force Joanna planned to take, but she had pointed out that Philip’s France was a quieter and more orderly place than John’s England. Moreover, a large force of any kind traveling near the Flemish border would be greatly suspect and sure to be stopped.

“And can you imagine what would happen if the men were overheard speaking English?” Joanna said, exasperated with their silliness. “Where will I find a larger force of men that speaks French? As it is, Knud and the other four will have to mind their tongues.”

It was an unanswerable argument. Sir John gave up and switched to another problem. “Do you trust Sir Léon? With so few men, once he is in his own country, what is to stop him from betraying you or simply riding off and abandoning you?

Joanna smiled. “I think he is an honorable man, even if he is a clod, but I will be safe rather than sorry, I assure you. Sir Léon will neither speak a false word nor escape because ‘his sister,’ as is fitting, will ride pillion behind him and that ‘dear sister’ will carry in her hand a long, very sharp knife, which will be hidden by her cloak and pressed into Sir Léon’s back.”

Sir John cleared his throat and closed his eyes; Adam began to laugh.

“That sounds all right,” Adam agreed, “but do not poke him for fun, Joanna. His wife probably wants him with a whole skin.”

“I,” Joanna said indignantly, “do not consider sticking people with knives funny.”

How sweet and soft she looks, Sir John thought, but even if she did not think it funny, there was no doubt that she would stab the man without the slightest hesitation.

“That will be safe enough while riding,” he pointed out, “but it is too far from Dunkerque to Baisieux to go without a stop.”

“For that there is also an easy answer,” Joanna replied.   ‘‘Remember that Sir Léon has been ill. Whenever he dismounts, Knud and Sir Guy will help him down and ‘support’ his faltering footsteps. And should he say anythingerout of the ordinary, his poor ‘sister’ will burst into tears and beg him to recognize her and cease from raving.”

Adam began to laugh again. “Oh, Jo, let me come. I will be far better than Sir Guy at comforting Sir Léon’s poor distracted sister.”

Joanna giggled but shook her head at him. “No, someone from Roselynde with authority must be in England to watch over the lands. Besides, you would only make me laugh and spoil everything.”

The planning had been done in private, but at dinner that day Sir Léon was informed of the excuse that would be used to cover Joanna’s trip to France. He acceded with great willingness to all except the need for the precautions against his escape.

“I may be only a simple knight,” he protested, “but I am a man of honor. In any case, why should I wish to escape? You are taking me where I wish to go and you are also paying ransom for my wife’s prisoner.”

The men looked rather self-conscious. All were in sympathy with his feeling. Even Adam rubbed his nose in embarrassment. “You know, Joanna,” he said softly, “I would not like it if my word was not good enough. Perhaps”

“I,” Joanna pointed out icily, “am not a man and have no honor. Poor weak woman that I am, I must protect myself. If Sir Léon breaks his word, can I go and demand that he meet me body to body to make good his promise? Either he goes as I say or he goes bound hand and foot and loaded with chains in England and drugged into sleep, a sick man, in a horse litter in France.” She stared at Sir Léon, her eyes pale, brilliant stars in her angry face.

“Say yes,” Sir Guy, next to Sir Léon, whispered urgently. “She will do itor worse.”

Thus urged, Sir Léon agreed quickly. Actually, he did not much care and had protested for form’s sake. What he had said was perfectly true. He had no intention of escaping. Joanna was fulfilling his sweetest dreams; why should he try to run away from her?

What was more singular and therefore more absorbing to him was the deferential attention paid Joanna by
all
the men, not only her own servants. Sir John, the master of this great keep and wide estates, bowed to her, kissed her hand, assisted her every step, although he must have known she was strong as a dray horse. Even the big, magnificent fighter that Sir Léon now knew was Lady Joanna’s brother bowed and scraped, pulling the bench out for her to sit upon and serving her attentively, cutting all the best pieces from the haunch for her trencher.

BOOK: Joanna
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