Rufus shook his head and returned inside the castle, followed by William. He looked at the map of the interior of the castle the de Montmorencys had taken from the de Courcys. “It is nothing but a distraction. This”—he stabbed once more at the castle—“is where our attention needs to be now. Only by pushing the de Montmorencys out of Norfolk and winning the castle back for the de Courcys will we ever hope to secure our lands, our prosperity and our safety.” He glanced over William’s shoulder at his sisters, Celestria amusing Lora, while Katherine went about her domestic duties. “If we succeed here, then…”
“Anything’s possible,” William replied. “Including safety for our family. Including peace where you might learn that love is not such a fearful thing.”
Rufus turned away. Many things were possible, but not that.
Suddenly he heard the dull thud of a horse galloping at great speed up the land. He was at the door when Kezia jumped off her horse and came running over to him.
“What’s happened?” he asked.
Kezia was breathless after her fast ride back to the castle. “Men. Around fifty of them, are expected at de Montmorency’s castle tomorrow, under cover of darkness.”
Rufus nodded grimly. “We must attack tomorrow.”
“If the hermit hadn’t told us we’d have been none the wiser,” said William, resting one foot on the side of the chair. “Does he know when the attack will happen?”
Kezia shook her head. “No. One of the men said they’d find out as they took the daily load of peat to the castle. But he won’t be able to return until this evening. I’ll find out then.”
Rufus shook his head. “No. It’s too dangerous for you now.”
“It is more dangerous for anyone else to go. The hermit is wary of strangers. Now is not the time to introduce new people to him and, besides, anyone else could be noticed. No, I shall go alone.”
He beckoned Kezia to one side while the men gathered over their maps.
“You will not go, Kezia,” he said in an urgent low tone. “It is too dangerous.”
“For you and your men, maybe. But no one looks twice at me. Remember? I can be invisible.”
“You’re no longer invisible.”
One silent heartbeat followed another. She swallowed. “I am to everyone else,” she said softly.
He shook his head, frowning, unable to believe that no one else would look twice at her. Rufus inclined his head still closer to hers, scarcely knowing if he’d repeat his command for her to stay, or whether his lips would brush hers.
“Rufus!” called William, bringing Rufus’s attention back to where it should be. “Come, we have much to arrange.”
Rufus swept his hand along Kezia’s arm and stepped over to the group and nodded to one of his squires. “You will go to the hermit. See to it.” He looked at Kezia who was quietly fuming. “When will the man return to the island hermit?”
“An hour after dusk,” came Kezia’s quick reply.
As the men turned their backs on her, Kezia went into the hall, away from the confusion of men and horses. She’d lay low until she had to leave and then she’d slip away and return before anyone had noticed she was gone. Besides the meeting was to be an hour before dusk, which should give her plenty of time to accomplish the task and return before the squire had even thought about leaving.
At the appointed time, Kezia slipped away from the castle unseen and was soon at the river and using the oars to push the boat away from the shore. Wraith-like swirls of mist drifted up from the surface of the water, which she cut into, expertly now, barely disturbing the silky surface of the pale gray water. Sheaves of barley was grouped now and then in uncanny bindings along the river bank, startling Kezia as she came upon them, looming up through the mist which clung to the bank. There was a gap above the water where there was no mist, then the mist, and then the last of the sunlight trying valiantly to pierce the low cloud. She felt a low thrumming inside her. She knew it for what it was. Danger. But she’d soon get what she wanted and then return to the safety of the castle.
The song of the marsh birds filled the air, warning others of her approach. She disturbed a duck which squawked out from behind the rushes, pulsing its wings across the translucent water. She stopped rowing for a moment, almost forgetting her mission, overcome by the beauty of her adopted homeland. A flock of birds flew overhead, hidden by the mists, followed by another booming sound—the redshank. Redshank’s warning, that was what Hawise called the sound. She smiled to herself at Hawise’s superstition and rowed on. She turned back to check her direction. It wasn’t much farther.
She drew one more time on the oars and slid up into the mud. She jumped onto the bank and pulled the boat up behind her, lifting the reeds around it. There was no way it could be seen now from the river.
The redshank warning sounded over the flat land once more, but this time a shiver ran down her spine, and she turned suddenly to look behind her. A man stood there staring at her, a slight smile on his face. A man she recognized—Sir Bayard.
“Lady Winterton.” He gave an exaggerated bow. His sly smile lifted at a corner as he inclined his head.
She backed away, groping behind her for the rope to the boat, but Bayard’s hand darted out. She tried to dodge him, but he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her off her feet, and swung her roughly back in front of him. This time he held a dagger to her throat.
“You wouldn’t be trying to leave now, Lady Kezia?”
“Sir! You mistake my purpose. I’m here merely to see the hermit, to bring him food.” She indicated her basket.
“Ah, the bounteous Lady Winterton. Well, my lady. Your hermit won’t be needing anything this day.” He gestured behind him.
She looked over his shoulder and saw the hermit slumped over. Tears pricked her eyes.
“You would kill an old man who’d done you no harm?”
“Oh, he’d done us harm all right. By passing secret information to the enemy, namely you. But it matters not, because you’ve walked onto de Montmorency land, and into Gilbert de Montmorency’s life.”
“You work for him,” she said bleakly.
A sly smile spread over his face. “Of course.”
“I knew they shouldn’t have trusted you.”
He grunted. “And they should trust you, eh? Someone who doesn’t even go by her birth name.”
She twisted around and frowned.
“Aye, you heard, Lady Winterton. Or should I call you by your real name?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. And my husband will be along any moment now. So I suggest you get off our land.”
“Your land, is it? I think not. And nor do I think Lord Winterton will show up. In fact, I doubt he knows you’re even here. And nor does he know who you really are, does he? Or else he’d be rid of you by now and married to Lady Maud de Montmorency, newly returned to Norfolk.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” He pressed the blade to her throat. She winced as she felt a trickle of blood trail down her neck.
“You don’t have a clue, do you?” A grin split his narrow face.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she repeated.
“Then let me explain. It appears the king has tired of Lady Maud and the king and Lady Maud’s family all now wish for her marriage to Rufus to take place after all.”
“I am his wife.”
“You were married under false pretenses. And I can prove it. A solid reason to annul the marriage, I’m sure all the de Veres would agree. All, maybe, except you.”
Kezia shook her head. “What are you talking about, false pretenses?”
He shook his head in disbelief. He grabbed her ruby brooch. “It was that which first alerted me to your true identity. You’re from Sicily, my lady. And, if I’m not mistaken you’re a member of the d’Hauteville line. The late great Queen of Sicily was from the French d’Hautevilles. I know not your first name, but I’d lay my life on the fact you are of their
blood. Your eyes, your fair complexion, your figure, all bespeak it. And, knowing that, there’s nothing to keep you married to Rufus.”
Kezia shook her head in disbelief. A member of the d’Hauteville family? That was her name? And Sicily? Suddenly everything fell into place—the strange visions which had filled her mind as Rufus had described Sicily, the snatches of early memories, and most of all how she felt—different, as if she didn’t belong in England. But something else also solidified. Something more important than who she once was. It was more crucial now than ever that Rufus defeat the de Montmorencys for Rufus now had grounds for annulment, the lack of which had been the only thing keeping their marriage on sure ground.
“If what you say is true, then why do the de Montmorencys still wish to wage war on us?”
“Because then they’ll be the outright victors: they’ll have the land, and they’ll have Rufus to legitimize the battle. Everything will be theirs.”
She shook her head. It could not be.
“You will come back to the castle with me,” said Bayard. “A lure for the de Veres.”
“They will not come for me.” She tried to swallow but her suddenly dry mouth refused to co-operate. “Why would they?” she asked in a hoarse whisper.
“I hear that Rufus enjoys you in his bed.” He licked his lips. “I daresay he would not like the idea of others enjoying you also.”
He huffed a brief laugh as Kezia’s face dropped. She could not end up like her beloved Ethelinda.
He shifted his stance and there was a sudden movement behind him as the hermit, whom she’d thought dead, lunged at Bayard with a rock and hit him on the head. Bayard fell to the floor. He lay, stunned, but not dead.
Blood pooled around the hermit’s gaping wound and he stumbled and fell to his knees. “Go, my lady.” He held out a bloodied letter, which must have escaped Bayard’s notice. “Take this missive sent by a man I trust, and return to your lord and tell him that the enemy plan to attack before dawn tomorrow.”
Kezia lurched towards him. “Let me help you.”
“You must go. Besides, I am beyond help. Go.”
Kezia took a few steps back and saw the life vanish from the hermit’s eyes in that instant.
“Go with God,” she whispered, before turning and running to the boat.
Kezia galloped into the castle bailey, her sweating mount gleaming under the bright sun. She leaped off the horse and threw the reins to the stable boy. “Where’s Rufus?” she asked William, who turned from a group of men.
“Inside.”
Kezia gathered her skirts and ran up into the hall. It was shadowy, despite the sunshine without, and full of men and servants milling around trying to keep everyone fed. Katherine looked harassed and pointed the way to Rufus, who stood at the center of a group of men.
He looked up as she entered as if by a sixth sense. “What is it?”
“The enemy plan to attack before dawn.”
It was all she said. If she told him about her true identity, then she feared he might do just as Bayard had said—reject her, annul the marriage—and she couldn’t stand that. Besides, it wouldn’t stop the forthcoming battle. She persuaded herself there was nothing to be gained by telling Rufus everything.
For once, Kezia was happy to help the other women. There was nothing more she could do for Rufus. She’d done her part, but now it was down to warfare, the like of which she knew not. Rufus had used her advice to employ the watermen to ferry his men into position until the castle would be surrounded, while he and William and others attacked head on. From there, the enemy would be driven into the hands of the waiting men, ambushing them, just as she described so many months before.
So Kezia did as Katherine directed and helped organize the last victuals for the men before they lay down to enjoy one short sleep. They’d need all their strength in the early hours of the next morn to finish off what had begun so many months earlier.
It wasn’t until everyone else had sought their beds that Rufus agreed to retire to the bed chamber with Kezia. But not to sleep.
Silently he lifted her shift, caressing her legs and stomach and sex, before easing himself into her. Their lovemaking was different from before. Their gaze wasn’t broken, and they made love silently, each lost in their own thoughts and feelings, but joined physically by his gentle thrusting inside of her, and by their eyes, which didn’t waver from each other’s, speaking more eloquently than any words.
Afterward, as he stretched out beside her, he reached for her hand. It was a small gesture, tenuous, but it was everything to Kezia. No matter how Rufus fooled himself, she knew they were as one and always would be.
Long after he’d fallen asleep, she lay awake, planning her own role in the forthcoming battle. Rufus had told her she should stay at the castle, keep safe like one of his dependents. But she wasn’t and would never be dependent. She was a fighter, and was determined to fight for what she wanted—her man.
Chapter 19
Kezia watched the men move away from the castle in small bands, stealing across the lanes and waterways silently in the dark to take up their positions. Rufus’s three sisters were inside the hall having supervised the feeding of the army in the early hours. It wasn’t until the last man had left that Kezia swept her cloak around her and checked her dagger was in place.
She’d only got as far as the gatehouse when she felt a hand placed on her shoulder and she jumped, as she groped for the dagger. She swung around to find Lady Charlotte, also cloaked, standing before her. Kezia had her dagger to her throat before she knew what she was doing.
Lady Charlotte didn’t blink. “You can drop the dagger. I am not here to hurt you.”
Kezia replaced it within her cloak.
Lady Charlotte raised an eyebrow. “You believe me?”
“Aye. You could have had me banished or killed in Yarmouth, but you did neither. You changed your mind.”
Lady Charlotte nodded. “Yes. I could not get rid of a girl in whom I saw so much of myself. When we stood by the river talking, I suddenly realized that my son needed no wealthy ninny, he needed someone with wits, someone who had a fire inside her belly. Someone like you.”
“I would do anything for him.”
“Yes, I realize that now. And that is why I’m here.”
Kezia narrowed her eyes, not understanding.
“I am here because I know you would sacrifice yourself for him. But you must not. For I also suspect you have more than a fire growing in your belly. I’ve seen how protectively you place your hands there.”
Kezia’s hands shot to her stomach as if to safeguard her unborn child from his grandmother. She turned to see Lady Charlotte watching her carefully.
“You carry my son’s child, don’t you?”
She bit her lip and nodded, letting her hands, which had betrayed her secret, drop to her sides.
“I thought as much. I used to hold my stomach thus when afraid—not for myself, but for my child.” She paused for a moment as if lost in her memories. “And does Rufus know this?”
Kezia shook her head.
Lady Charlotte cocked her head to one side, her eyes sharp. “Do you tell me the truth?”
“Yes, he does not know I am carrying our child.”
“And why not?”
“Because…” She cleared her throat, unable to hide from the truth any longer. “Because the news may not be pleasing to him.”
“You do not know my son, if you think that.” A faint smile flickered over Lady Charlotte’s lips, barely discernible in the dim light of pre-dawn. “Now, are you going to tell me of your plan? Because I do not believe you wouldn’t have one, would you?”
Kezia huffed an amused laugh. From her being her worst enemy, she was beginning to like Lady Charlotte, despite the lady’s efforts to dispose of her.
“I intend to follow Rufus and ensure he’s safe.”
Lady Charlotte shook her head. “You’re letting your heart rule your head. He will be safe. He can
fight. Nay, my concerns are here, at the castle. If the men who protect us are drawn away into battle—and we must not underestimate Sir Gilbert’s cunning—we will be exposed.”
“But there is nowhere for a large body of men to gain access. All the main water crossings and roads are covered.”
“Nowhere for a large body. But it would not take a large body of men to come here, take my daughters, and hold them hostage. That is my fear.”
Kezia suddenly realized Lady Charlotte was correct. Rufus’s sisters could be held as pawns and used to defeat the family.
Kezia looked sharply at the older woman. “Where is the weak point?”
“The sea. Rufus and William assumed a land battle, and so it will be. But I doubt Gilbert will dismiss the sea as an entrance point to our lands. And nor should we.”
Kezia’s gaze shot to the sand dunes, pitch-black against the dark indigo sky. “I’ll take some men and we can watch by the dunes.”
“I will come with you,” Lady Charlotte said.
“But you—”
“I am imprisoned? Aye, but my son didn’t lock me up. And I hardly think that is relevant now, do you?”
Kezia shook her head, remembering her notion that it would be better if Lady Charlotte fought with them.
Together they swept away back to the Hall, clothed themselves in Lady Charlotte’s chain mails, then stationed themselves low in the sand dunes, watching out to sea as dawn slowly broke over the rolling gray waves.
Rufus, with his men, lay flat on his belly on the side of the riverbank as they watched the stream of men leave the de Montmorency castle and march along the main road toward his lands. Kezia had been right. Such a party of men they could never have hoped to fight head on. But when they were taken by surprise by his men, led by William, he would have the advantage. As soon as the small army had quit the castle, it would be open for Rufus to attack and conquer.
Rufus and his small band of men listened, and as soon as they heard the first sign of fighting, they mounted and urged their horses into a gallop heading straight toward the still-open drawbridge. Within minutes they had thundered across the timber bridge, dispatched the guards, and his men had captured the gate and locked the remaining men within. He sent some of his soldiers to support William and cut off the enemy from the rear.
Defending His Lady (Norfolk Knights Book 4) Page 19
