The Sword and The Swan (11 page)

A rich and completely satisfactory sensation of pride filled Catherine. "There can be none stronger than Sir Rannulf," she said firmly, and then with narrowing eyes, "No doubt Sir Herbert leads that party also."

"Aye, that is true." Another thoughtful glance raked Catherine, but she had nothing to hide and ignored it.

"He was ever a maker of trouble. He caused my father much grief from time to time."

Catherine was about to tell Sir Giles to bring the problem to Sir Rannulf's attention and not trouble her with such matters when Lady Warwick's advice came to her mind. She no longer thought of needing her vassals' protection against her husband, but if she and the vassals stood together against involvement in the king's war, Rannulf might have to listen.

"Certainly," she continued, "the way things lie I would be a fool to align myself with one faction or the other among my own men, even if Sir Rannulf were not to my taste."

Sir Giles nodded in agreement. She was quick to see that, whatever might have been good before, now an outsider was needed to keep the men from struggling among themselves. If he, himself, had not been married, there might have been a benefit in Catherine taking him because the men, whatever their faction, were accustomed to obeying him. Since that was not possible, it was indeed likely that Sir Rannulf was best, providing he did not interfere too much in the old, established order in the earldom.

Catherine, meanwhile, flushed with confidence because of the assurances of loyalty Sir Giles had given her, had decided that since the men believed they were hers, hers they would remain.

"Of Sir Rannulf," she said with a certain asperity, a mistress' impatience with doubt in a servant, "you have heard the truth. He is both strong and just. For all your decision to do this or that, it is lighter, with such a man, to say than to do against his will. You had better leave him to me. Thus far we have no quarrel about the management of my lands or the disposition of my monies, so do as he bids you. On the matter of the war, I will tell him of your desire to remain apart from it."

Suddenly she smiled, looking at once like the Catherine he loved as a daughter. "Truly, I know little enough of the whys and wherefors of this madness that makes men tear each other apart," she admitted. "Do you wait on Sir Rannulf here about the prime tomorrow and hear what he has to say on the matter. Then, with your guidance I can decide what is best to do."

The remainder of the conversation was of commonplaces, her health, that of Sir Giles and his family. Catherine called Richard from the room below where he was playing among the men-at-arms and introduced Rannulf's younger son to Sir Giles.

The boy did her proud, his burnished hair neat, his clothing pretty and well-fitting, and his manner such a combination of innocence and childish dignity that stepmother and vassal had much ado to maintain their gravity. Catherine's devotion and the child's affection for her could not be mistaken, and Sir Giles saw that, whether she cared for the man or not, she was already irrevocably bound to him through his son.

Unfortunately the stimulation and excitement, the feeling of assurance that Catherine had in Sir Giles' presence, departed with him. When she thought over what she had done, she was appalled.

It was simple enough to say to Sir Giles that she would tell Rannulf this or that, but what reason could she propose to Rannulf for her interference? Sir Giles might say that she was still his lady, but Catherine was sure that Rannulf would not see it that way. Or, since he had said the money was hers, might acknowledge that the men were hers but had no right to follow the will of a fool of a woman.

Catherine bit her lip, her hands idle on the shirt she was sewing. She could tell him of the plan to murder him, she thought. Surely that would be excuse enough for her to have spoken her mind. No, she could not. To do so would surely set him against her vassals, and if they owed her loyalty she must protect their interests.

When Rannulf came in to dinner, she had still decided nothing, and she sought in vain throughout the meal for an opening that would not enrage his irascible temper.

"You are strangely silent, madam," Rannulf said at last.

It was not that Catherine was a chattering woman, but she had a well-bred way of making pleasant conversation at the table about things she knew would interest her husband. Having sought without result during the unusual silence that greeted his remark for something he could have done to annoy her, Rannulf turned on his son.

"Richard, have you distressed the Lady Catherine today? Do you have something to confess?"

The child's startled eyes proclaimed his innocence even before Catherine spoke. "No, my lord, indeed, he is very good. I—I do not feel very well today."

Rannulf turned his eyes to his plate. It was now almost a month that they had been man and wife. Possibly she was breeding. The thought gave him no particular pleasure although he liked children. He had an heir in his eldest son Geoffrey and a guarantee in Richard. True, it would be well to have a man-child out of Catherine for the better security of the lands of Soke, but there was time enough for that. Women died in childbearing.

"Do you wish that I stay within this afternoon?"

Catherine looked at her husband. His head was lowered over his food and his voice was harsh and angry, but it always was, except in lovemaking. Still, what he said in conjunction with her remark could only be meant as an offer of help and comfort.

Tears rose in her eyes at the thought of her intended duplicity. She knew he found her presence pleasant although he never spoke a fond word nor offered a caress. How could she have been so stupid as to endanger his growing attachment for her merely for the sake of a little power over her men? If she had been wiser and sent Sir Giles to him directly, her faith might have fixed his fondness on her more securely and in the end brought her more power, even if indirectly wielded. She had to think of some way out of the situation though, and to have Rannulf in the house would effectively paralyze her.

Catherine forced a smile. "No, thank you. I am only a little listless."

"Then I will take the boy that he may not plague you." He caught his wife's anxious glance. "I am only going to the armorer to see how goes my new hauberk. There will be much to interest him there. He will not plague me either."

"Will you buy me a sword, papa? Oh, please! You said I might have one soon."

"Not if you overset the table and your trencher. Sit still. Are you fed only upon rabbits that you jump so?"

"And not if you bang it upon the floor and spoil the edge as you did with your wooden one," interjected Lady Catherine.

Rannulf looked from his wife to his son and bit his lips. There was a strong conspiracy here. He had heard nothing about the damaged sword. Doubtless she had provided the child with another or had one of the men-at-arms repair it. Or had she taken it from him? This was a good time to test out a small fear he had. Sometimes women who doted upon children would not permit a boy to grow into a man.

"Go," the father said. "Go and get your cloak and wait for me below. I see you will eat no more, nor permit us to finish our meal in peace." When the boy was gone, he turned to Catherine, "What say you, shall he have the sword?"

Catherine's heart sank further. To ask such a question of her betokened no little trust. "Yes, he is more than four. It is time for him to learn how to care for it. But not too sharp an edge, my lord, or we will not have a stick of furniture left." She smiled involuntarily. "He duels mightily with the stools and bed-curtains."

Her husband laughed shortly, but his eyes were considering, and he tested further, glad of the natural opportunity to sound her on the management of male children. "He does, eh? Then it is time for him to have a tutor in arms who can give him more steady attention than I can. I will look about me."

He expected a protest at the threatened removal of the child from her influence, but Catherine nodded approval. Because of her first husband's gentleness and disinterest in the usual male pursuits, she had
thought long and often on how her own son should be raised to make him more manly.

"It is not my place to tell you how to raise your sons, but I have thought so, and wished to speak to you of it. He is large and very forward for his age. For a tutor, too, it is time."

"You see more of him than I. You always have my leave to speak your mind about the children—mine, and those I hope will be yours." He cocked an eye at Catherine expectantly, but she did not respond. Perhaps she had only pretended a desire for Richard's company in the beginning to impress him and now, still not wishing to harm the child, wanted to be free of him. "Perhaps you find Richard more trouble than you expected," Rannulf remarked to test this hypothesis. "I can send him home if he is a burden to you."

"Oh, no! I love him dearly, indeed I do. Do not take him from me completely."

There could be no doubt about the sincerity of that plea. Rannulf gave up. Whatever was troubling his wife, she would have to settle it for herself or tell him outright. He could do no more for her than reassure her of his approval of her handling of Richard.

"Nay," he said, "if you do not desire to be free of him, I care not where he bides. I see you are to be trusted. You will put no women's garments on him, nor give him a spinning wheel in place of a sword and shield. Good God," Rannulf exclaimed as a loud crash and considerable laughter came up the stairwell, "I had better go before he wreaks greater havoc. The men are fond of him and let him do anything."

Richard was returned by a contingent of the men-at-arms in time for his supper and bed, but Rannulf did not come with him. As the usual hour for his return passed without sign of him, Catherine grew more and more nervous. Her guilty conscience kept telling her that he had met one of her father's vassals and heard from him what she had said to Sir Giles.

Slender as was the actual possibility of such a chance meeting taking place, it seemed to Catherine that it would be in perfect conformity with her uniform bad fortune. She had to speak before Rannulf met Sir Giles in the morning—that meant this night—and if she confirmed any rumor he had heard of her desire to come between her men and himself … Catherine shuddered as she heard his step on the stair and shuddered again as he came in scowling horribly. She turned pale, knowing that her worst fears had been realized, but her lips and hands were steady and her eyes met his squarely.

"Sir Herbert Osborn was your father's vassal, was he not?"

No greeting, as usual, and a voice deadly quiet with fury, but the opening was not the one Catherine had feared. Unless Catherine was conscious of some guilt, Rannulf's rages had no longer any power of really frightening her.

"Yes, my lord."

"He has laid a complaint that I married you falsely against your will, and that you were promised to him. Woman, did you hold your tongue for fear and put this shame on me?"

Catherine's color came rushing back. "No. He lies. Neither by my word nor by my father's was any promise given him. He offered for me, so much is true, but I could not even think of such matters at the time. He was no favorite with my father either, and I cannot believe so kind a father would have promised me without my knowledge."

"He says he has a letter bearing such a promise from your father. Moreover—" Rannulf was about to add that Sir Herbert said more than that. He said that Catherine had known of the promise and had been terrified into silence by the threat that he would be killed if she spoke.

"I cannot believe it!" Catherine cried, and then, incomprehensibly even to herself, she burst into tears.

It was the first time Rannulf had seen her cry, and it took a self-control made strong by many years of practice to allow him to maintain an apparent indifference.

"There is no need for this caterwauling," he said repressively. "I hope you speak the truth and that you have not dishonored me and yourself by coming, promised to another man, to my bed. Be quiet, I say. What good will this do now?"

He passed a hand across his face and came farther into the room, watching her strive to control herself. "Very well," he went on more quietly. "It is like enough that no more will come of this since the king and queen are surely my friends in the matter. Probably it will amount to nothing else than a challenge for swords as well as lances at the tourney. I will lesson him well, and he will hold his tongue."

In spite of all efforts, Catherine's tears still flowed and Rannulf was so wrenched with jealousy that he scarcely knew what he was saying. "I would give much," he burst out bitterly, "to know whether you weep for the loss of the chance to have him to husband. For him you need not weep; I will not slay him unless he forces me to it."

That brought her head up as if she had been hit, the tears like clear pearls clinging to her cheeks. "I would not weep for the loss of any man I have yet seen," Catherine spat, but the shock to her pride did her good. Pig of a man, she thought, no one but he may have honor or worth. It will do him good to learn I am no cipher and that he must walk warily lest I outfox him. "You asked me at dinner why I was so silent, and I said I was not well," Catherine began, swallowing the last of her sobs and dashing the tears from her eyes. "That was a lie. Now I will tell you."

"You knew of this?"

It was a bellow that brought a restless cry from Richard on the other side of the room screen. Catherine turned her back on her husband and went to quiet the child as if Rannulf was of no more importance than the meanest servant.

She eyed him coldly on her return. "Not of the formal complaint, of course. No doubt care was taken that it should not come to my ears, but of talk among the vassals of Soke I did know. I had hoped that you would not need to hear of it for the sake of the men involved. Sir Giles Fortesque, chief of my father's vassals, came to me this morning to ask if I had been forced against my will into marriage. I told him that it was not true and that, since the king had given me to you, I was content."