Read The Black Lyon Online

Authors: Jude Deveraux

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General, #Man-Woman Relationships, #Love Stories, #Historical Fiction, #Adult, #Europe, #History, #Romantic Suspense Novels, #Ireland, #Ireland - History - 1172-1603

The Black Lyon (37 page)

BOOK: The Black Lyon
10.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

"Nay, I have not been so cursed as you with a swollen belly. I prefer my pleasures without such punishment. Should your labor begin, have Alice fetch me and I will send someone from the village. Do you understand my words, Alice? You are to come for me if your mistress has an ache in her belly."

Alice looked at her blankly, a study in ignorance, and nodded vigorously at her, eyes shining, mouth slightly open.

"How you bear her presence each day and remain sane is not of my understanding," M argaret said with a sneer.

"Her intent is good and she attends to my needs most adequately."

"I must go now. I have hired new guards to see to your protection. M orell assures me that all is right, but I cannot help but be uneasy."

"Oh?" Lyonene looked at the fire. "Are these guards as fierce and ugly as my other four?"

Lady M argaret laughed, a quick snort of laughter, making her thoughts known. "Nay, they are in truth most handsome men, strong and vigorous. When you are no longer as you are now, I shall ^ive you to one of them. You will like their looks, as I hear you favor dark men." She turned and left them.

Lyonene felt Alice's hand on her shoulder. Their eyes met "Aye, I know 'twas wrong and I came too close, but she could not recognize them as Ranulf's men. I am pleased Sir M orell leaves. Ranulf says he will have no problem with my guards, but I am pleased there will be fewer men to fight."

Nightfall came and still she waited, a small bundle of clothes by her side. Her nervousness increased as she thought of Ranulfs danger, the danger her foolishness had caused. Before she went to bed, she spent hours on her knees in prayer. Only Alice's mute commands made her retire.

Surprisingly, she fell asleep quickly, awakened in the dark, again, by a large, warm hand over her mouth. She looked into Sainneville's dark eyes.

"M y lady, it is good to see you again."

253

She took his hand for a moment, joyous to see a

familiar face, a friend.

"He is not worthy of such attentions, I assure you. Can you believe I had to force him to climb down that rope? He said he feared the castle crumbling about his ears."

She smiled at Corbet, his jests and light words tearing at her, so glad was she to hear them again. "Nay, I cannot believe it. You are well, both of you?"

"Only now that the sun has come out again. M alvoisin is a dark place without its golden mistress."

She smiled and then laughed, joy filling her, tears clouding her eyes. "Sir Corbet, you have not changed and it is most pleasant to see you again. Sir Sainneville, do you work to keep him from mischief?"

Sainneville winked at her. "I see you know him well. But it is not he who has caused the problem of this journey."

She put her hand before her face. "Nay, do not lecture me. M y husband has not lost a moment in recounting my misdeeds. Tell me true, has he actually chopped wood?"

The two dark guardsmen grinned. "Aye, he has," Corbet said. "It was an easy task for him, and we often gave him our encouragement from our posts atop the battlements."

"You did not!"

"We could not lose such a chance. How many men ever are put in charge of their lord?"

"It is Hugo who will need to fear for his life."

"What could Sir Hugo have done?" she asked. "He is a most quiet and peaceful man."

Corbet tried to keep his laughter quiet. "Lady M argaret put him in charge of the serfs. Lord Ranulf thought to escape his duties as serf, but Hugo had other ideas. He is a brave knight."

"M y husband?"

"Nay," Sainneville said, laughing. "Sir Hugo had more courage than any of us. He leaned against a wall, ate an apple and then pointed at our lord. I can just hear him, 'You there. You look to be a sturdy fellow. You chop while these lesser men tote.' I wonder that Lord Ranulf's curses did not char the wood."

Lyonene covered her giggle. "It will not be Sir Hugo who suffers, but I for causing all these problems." She looked across the room and saw Alice sitting quietly on her pallet in the corner. "You know these men, Alice?"

Corbet smiled. "It was she who obtained our jobs."

Alice pointed to her eyes, then theirs and Lyonene laughed. "Alice must have realized you were of the Black Guard, for I often tell her of M alvoisin."

"We are honored to be mentioned by one so lovely. A damsel in distress is our most favorite mission. I wish only there were a fiery dragon to slay in your honor."

She leaned back against the stone wall and looked at them. They laughed, but their mission was indeed serious and could cost them their lives. Yet they acted as if 'twere no more than an afternoon's outing. She started to rise and Alice came to help her. She had slept in a woolen garment, ready for a quick escape.

The two guardsmen stared at her, her new shape unfamiliar to them. "I can see what has happened to the sun."

Lyonene looked at Corbet in puzzlement.

"You have swallowed it."

She laughed at the jest. Now was not the time to reprimand them for insolence. Now they were bound together by the ancient tie of friends amongst strangers. Later, at M alvoisin, they would return to the old formality, but now the circumstances were changed.

Alice helped her into a heavy surcoat and mantle—warm, sturdy clothes.

"You will not change your thoughts and come with us, Alice?"

Alice smiled, touched Lyonene's hair and shook her head. Her family and her ways were Irish. She did not wish to leave her home.

Further talk was silenced by a cry outside the door. Lyonene was astonished at the speed with which Corbet and Sainneville moved. The two men put their backs to the door, keeping out the men who so violently tried to open it.

"Get her near the window!" Sainneville commanded to Alice. "If need be, lower her down the rope. Herne waits below."

They could hear the clash of steel outside and loud voices. The pounding on the door decreased by half and then ceased altogether as Ranulf and his men engaged the guards in battle. Lyonene sat on a stool near the
255

window, her face white, her nerves taut, threatening to snap.

Ranulf's battle cry was heard through the oak door; indeed, it seemed to fill the very stones of the donjon. Lyonene could but wait and listen, listen to the horrible cries, the sounds of steel and iron as they struck wood, stone and human flesh.

Sainneville and Corbet watched her. They could do nothing to help their fellow guardsmen or their liege lord and the waiting was harder for them than the battle.

When she thought she might not live much longer, so great was her paralyzing fear, Ranulf's voice sounded outside the door.

"Open!"

Corbet and Sainneville threw back the heavy door to reveal a blood-encrusted Ranulf. His expression was wild—fierce and frightening.

Lyonene tried to stand and greet him, but her legs would not support her. Alice helped her.

Ranulf merely glanced in her direction, satisfied that she was unharmed. "M orell gathers men together, a few hundred. Gilbert has seen them riding hard toward us. He must have gotten word of our presence. I have sent a messenger to Dacre's cousins and they will meet us due north of here."

Ranulf took one great stride across the room and lifted Lyonene into his arms, hardly looking at her. "Heme holds the horses below. See you to my weapons," he instructed, nodding to Corbet.

Lyonene buried her face against Ranulf's mail-clad neck, the smell of blood overpowering. She did not know whether it was the smell or her terror, but her stomach tightened and pained her. There was time only for a brief farewell look to Alice.

Eight black horses awaited them outside the donjon, with Tighe at the head. Ranulf lifted her into the saddle, and she clutched the pommel as another pain gripped her.

"You are unhurt?" Ranulf demanded, his haste making his words harsh.

"Aye, I am well."

"Then I must see to my man."

She turned in the saddle to see M aularde being helped to his horse. His left leg was bleeding profusely and his tabard showed a long, jagged cut.

Ranulf exchanged a few words with his knight and then returned to Lyonene, mounting behind her.

"He can travel?" she asked.

"Aye, for a while. He took an ax blade in his leg. He must have it attended soon or he may lose his leg, if not his life."

Lyonene looked ahead as Ranulf took the reins and spurred Tighe into a gallop. Another pain left her breathless, and she realized the babe had decided to meet his father. She gave a silent prayer for time, time enough to escape Sir M orell's army that followed them.

They rode fast and hard for near two hours when Ranulf called a halt. Lyonene clutched her stomach, grateful for the stillness, the relief from the jolting horse. Ranulf dismounted and walked to M aularde.

"I fear he has fainted, my lord." She heard Hugo's quiet voice.

Lyonene whirled to look at the guardsman. The strong, dark knight slumped forward over his horse's neck. Blood covered one whole side of rider and horse. The sight did nothing to relieve the pains she already felt.

"He can ride no further," Ranulf said, his voice serious. "M y wife also grows weary. I will stay here with them, there is a shack beyond those trees. You must ride even harder than before, for if M orell's men see you and know I am not with you, they will return here and find us."

The six men nodded gravely, understanding the situation.

"Dacre's men await you. Give me any cloths you have for M aularde's leg. Go now and do not return until it is safe."

They nodded and several prayers for safety were said as they quickly removed extra clothing from the leather bags behind their saddles.

It seemed incredibly quiet when they were gone. Ranulf took the reins of both horses and led them into the woods to a little stone cottage with a pegged, half-missing thatched roof that offered some shelter. Ranulf left the horses and riders hidden under some trees as he drew his sword and thoroughly checked the property. Only when he was sure that it was empty did he return to the horses.

257

He lifted Lyonene from the horse and set her to her feet. She leaned back against a tree for support.

Removing M aularde from his horse with the gentleness that was needed was not an easy job, but Ranulf knew the man's life depended on his care. Ranulf's legs bent under the weight of carrying his guardsman into the dark hut He carefully stretched him on the dirty floor rushes.

Lyonene clutched her stomach as another pain gripped her. They came closer together now, and each was stronger than the last.

There was no time to be frightened as she thought of M aularde's life. She entered the little cottage.

"Here," she said as she knelt by M aularde. "I will tend him. You must lift him as we remove the chausses. Fetch the extra cloths.

Can we not have a fire?"

"Nay, we cannot. I but hope M orell's men do not see this place. M orell! I should like to meet him myself."

"Do not waste the time thinking of him. Go and find water and a vessel to hold it. I must cleanse this wound and bind it."

Ranulf left her silently, before he saw her eyes close against the tightening of her stomach.

"It is the babe?" came M aularde's ragged whisper.

She smiled at him and smoothed back his sweat-dampened hair. "Do not speak now. We will care for you and you will be well, but you must rest also. And aye, it is the babe, but do not say so to Ranulf."

"I think he will know soon enough."

"I fear your words are true. Quiet now. I will hurt you more, for I need to remove some bits of iron from your leg."

Ranulf returned with a large pottery bowl of water. "It is broken, but it still will hold some water. M aularde speaks to you?"

"Aye." She looked at the guardsman fondly. "He worries for my safety."

Ranulf looked at her for the first time, saw the strain on her face. He touched her hair, caressing her cheek.

Lyonene bent forward against a pain. Ranulf pulled her to him.

"The babe kicks you again?"

"Aye, he kicks most vigorously. Now tear some linen and wet it so that I may help your man."

They worked together, silently, as Lyonene carefully removed the bits of iron with a green stick that had the bark stripped from it. She had to stop often to hold herself against the pains that were closer and closer together. Ranulf said little when she bowed her head against the pain, but supported her back and shoulders.

At last M aularde's leg was bound, and although they thought he slept, he opened his eyes and spoke to them.

"Now it is your turn, my lady."

"Aye," she agreed, smiling, "I fear you are right" The pains had little time between them now.

"What is this?" Ranulf demanded.

"Your babe comes, my lord," M aularde whispered.

"It cannot. There is no woman here to tend to the birth."

Lyonene managed a bit of a laugh as an even stronger pain gripped her.

"Lyonene, you cannot deliver now. You must wait until I fetch someone."

"Nay, Ranulf, do not leave me. Help me to lie down."

He pulled her to his arms gently and she felt his strong body begin to shake.

"I fear I add to the blood on you, for birthing is messy work. Ranulf! I but meant to make a jest. Do not take on so. It is easy work."

He laid her carefully on the rushes. "I will fetch moss to make a bed for you." His voice showed his strain. "There is time?"

"Aye, a few moments."

Ranulf hurried from the cottage.

Another pain gripped her, and as her hands clawed at the floor rushes, she felt a warm, solid hand in her own. M aularde's strength and nearness reassured her.

Ranulf returned quickly and spread the moss beneath her. He saw the hands held between his wife and his guardsman. He did not break the contact, but was glad for it. Lyonene drew her legs up, pushing downward at each pain.

BOOK: The Black Lyon
10.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Melt Into You by Lisa Plumley
War Against the Mafia by Don Pendleton
The Inquisitor's Mark by Dianne K. Salerni
The Morning After by Matt Coolomon
Practically Perfect by Dale Brawn
The Bone Triangle by B. V. Larson
A Pure Double Cross by John Knoerle