by Leila Snow
"Did you have a good sleep my dear?" he questioned solicitously as he also rose. Madeline averted her eyes from his nakedness. No man could ever match Nate's beauty and she didn't want to betray Endle's goodness by comparing him and finding him lacking.
"I did, my Lord," she replied.
"Endle," he interrupted her. "We are husband and wife now my love, please call me Endle."
"Yes, Endle," she acquiesced. "And how was your night?"
"It was excellent, of course," he chuckled. "With you in my bed every night is a dream come true. "
Madeline flushed and went to summon her maid, who slept in an adjoining alcove. The maid's pallet was empty. Madeline turned back to Endle, puzzled, just as Muriel rushed in the door of their chamber.
"Apologies my Lady," she asked pardon of Madeline with a small curtsey. "I woke early and decided to go to the kitchens to arrange a meal to be packed for your sojourn to the village this day."
Madeline smiled at the thoughtful maid. "Thank you Muriel," she said sincerely. "That was very considerate."
The maidservant nodded uncomfortably and bobbed again. Just then Endle's man arrived, and together they made the Lord and Lady of Marbourne presentable for the day.
* * *
A short time later, Madeline stood in the inner bailey with Sir Hugh and prepared to mount her horse. Nathaniel had been absent yet again, as they broke their fast. But Madeline had decided that she was not prepared to postpone her visit to the village for another day.
Sir Hugh had just lifted her to the saddle when Nathaniel swaggered into the courtyard. His long hair was mussed and Madeline could see bits of straw clinging to it. He had obviously slept in a barn again, as Lord Endle had commented upon the day before.
Madeline eyed him worriedly and tried to meet his gaze but he kept his head lowered as he mounted his great gelding. Perhaps she would have a moment to talk to him during the journey. She nudged her horse forward and followed Sir Hugh out of the castle, Nathaniel trailing behind.
The steep trek down the slope of the escarpment reminded Madeline of her wedding procession days earlier. Now, as then, she hugged the cliff face as closely as possible and kept her focus away from the sharp drop to her left. The three rode in a single line and as such, little conversation was to be had between them. Madeline turned a number of times to see how Nathaniel fared but he never looked at her, his chin bobbing morosely on his chest to the rhythm of his horse's steps.
Madeline found herself distracted from her thoughts of Nathaniel as they entered the village at the base of the bluff. The peasants and villagers streamed from their cottages to dance about her horse and congratulate their new Lady on her marriage. Madeline delighted in passing out the coin and gifts that Sir Hugh had carried down on his horse. She made mental notes of the state of the cottages and ways she could improve the peasants’ lives. Nathaniel remained sullenly silent throughout, lending a hand only when specifically asked. She could see Sir Hugh's questioning gaze on him frequently. And Madeline herself was growing more and more frustrated and angry by his ill-humour. He may not enjoy life at Marbourne but he was not the one forced into a marriage with an old man and required to submit nightly to his desire. As such, she was having a progressively difficult time summoning sympathy for whatever small complaint was at the source of his incessant irritability.
They had just finished visiting a small group of locals near the village inn, when a well-rounded and comely peasant woman stepped quickly past Madeline and launched herself into Nathaniel's arms. The first smile she had seen from him in days split Nate's face, reminiscent of the usual good-humoured grins he used to send Madeline's way. She stared at the pair, her heart developing a raw throbbing ache somewhere in her chest.
"Brigit!" he exclaimed.
"Ye're looking a might better, knight," the shapely woman observed. "Though it seems ye've spent yet another night in the barn," she said with an intimate wink as she drew a piece of straw from his hair.
Nathaniel gave a low chuckle. "I promise I'll come looking for you next time," he uttered for her ears only, although the whispered promise reached Madeline's as well.
"See that ye do, knight," the peasant trilled saucily with a wink. She then turned to Madeline. "My apologies, m'Lady. Congratulations on yer nuptials."
Madeline nodded shortly at her and the woman grinned coquettishly again at Nathaniel before she hurried off.
"Who was that?" Madeline asked him curtly. She caught Sir Hugh's surprised expression at her questioning of Nathaniel.
"A friend," he chirped back at her, meeting her regard. "One can never have too many."
Madeline reddened and turned to ask Sir Hugh to assist her to mount.
"I believe we have exhausted the coin we brought," she informed them haughtily. "Let us be on our way back to Marbourne and my affable husband," she added pointedly. As she pushed her horse into a trot through the village, the knights followed her, one confused and one broken-hearted.
They had only gone a few strides before a commotion came to their attention. Madeline pulled her horse down to a walk and focused on a small, raggedly dressed boy and girl who ran towards them. Behind them, a man with a cart yelled for them to stop. Madeline could see the apple clutched tightly in the little girl's filthy hand. Her dark hair and the boy's towheaded waves immediately ushered Madeline back to her own childhood romps with Nathaniel. She instantly swung down from the saddle and stepped in the path of the two fleeing children. They skidded to a halt before her and Madeline's compassionate heart went out to them. Their little faces were pinched with malnutrition and their clothing was little more than rags. The boy stepped protectively in front of the smaller, dark-haired girl and stared Madeline down with a fierce look of determination. She saw fear spark in his eyes when he looked past her, to see her two knights already off their horses and moving to Madeline's side. Quickly, he grabbed the girl's hand and they darted together down a nearby alley, disappearing into the gloom therein.
"Quickly, after them Hugh!" Madeline cried. "Find out who they are but do not harm them. I have an interest in giving assistance to both the children and their families."
Sir Hugh rapidly complied, sprinting off down the alley after the urchins. Madeline turned her tear-filled eyes to Nathaniel. "They looked like you and I so many years ago," she whispered. "What has happened to us?"
She thought she heard a choked sob before Nathaniel turned away from her. He strode over to the apple-seller and handed him a coin that would more than compensate for the apple then returned to Madeline.
"You need to be getting home to your affable husband, if you recall my Lady. Perhaps you're anxious to return to his bed," he reminded her calculatedly. He hardened his heart against the look of pain she sent him, and reached for his wine skin. He prayed its numbing would take effect quickly to dull the ever present ache that sat in his chest.
I felt that I breathed
an atmosphere of sorrow.
~Edgar Allan Poe
CHAPTER 14
The moment they arrived in the inner bailey, Madeline dismounted. Tossing her reins to Nathaniel, she stormed off towards the keep. She found Endle in his solar with his steward. He looked up when she entered.
"Ah! My bride. You have returned to me," he said with a happy smile. He held his arms out to her and she moved into them, in need of the comfort he could provide. "Was your visit to the village successful?" he asked.
She nodded. The memory of the peasant wench stroking Nate's hair and the obvious invitation she gave him caused a lump in Madeline's throat that made it impossible to say more.
"Good, good," Endle said genially as he put her from him gently. He softly stroked her cheek with his finger as he gazed fondly down at her. "I found myself missing you whilst you were away today," he confessed. "I believe you may have my heart at your mercy, my lovely Madeline."
Madeline looked down as the tears that had been threatening, spilled over.
"Now, what's this?" he as
ked compassionately, pulling her back into his arms.
"I'm sorry, Endle. It's just that you are such a good man. I don't deserve you," she sobbed.
She felt her husband smile against her hair. "I am certain you have it the wrong way around," he chuckled. "Now, why don't you go to our chambers and I will have Muriel attend you. If you wish you could have a short rest before we sup," he suggested.
Madeline agreed and left Endle in his solar.
* * *
Madeline still felt downcast throughout the evening meal. Nathaniel hadn't entered the hall and she wondered if he had gone to visit the peasant woman. The one bright spot was Sir Hugh's arrival with the information she had been hoping for, the names of the two children from the village. Lord Endle recognized the family names and promised Madeline he would provide them some added succour. Relieved that Endle was in agreement with her own wishes, Madeline purposed to visit them in the near future. The children had so resembled she and Nate that she felt an almost kinship with them.
Geoffrey was unusually cheerful this evening and made an extra effort to engage both she and his uncle in conversation. Madeline hoped he was finally ridding himself of the resentment that had plagued him since her arrival.
As the meal drew to a close, much to Madeline's dismay, she could see the amorous sparkle that brightened Lord Endle's face when he looked her way. She had been hoping for a reprieve from his attentions but it appeared her hopes would be in vain.
Just as she suspected, Lord Endle rose from the table and put out his hand to her. She placed her own in his and allowed him to lead her upstairs to their chamber.
Geoffrey gave an ominous grin and winked surreptitiously at Muriel who rose and followed after them.
* * *
"Here is your digestif, my Lady," said her maid as she handed a tankard of warm, mulled wine to Madeline. "And yours my Lord," she passed the other to Lord Endle.
"Thank you Muriel," Madeline responded, warming her hands on the cup. "You may retire now."
The maid smiled and nodded as she made her way to her alcove.
Lord Endle sipped at his wine as he gazed admiringly at Madeline over the rim. Madeline took a big gulp of hers.
* * *
Madeline's husband woke the next day feeling slightly queasy but by the noon meal he was once again feeling fine. He suffered the same illness over the next several days, taking longer and longer to recover after each episode. Some days he did not rise at all but remained in bed from morn til night. Madeline was concerned for him and visited the chapel daily to pray for her husband's health. She had several tinctures drawn up but they didn't seem to have much effect. Her Lord's appetite diminished quickly and he ate very little, but she insisted that he at least take wine to keep up his strength. Nevertheless, the healthy man of several weeks ago seemed to be deteriorating before her eyes. He did somehow still summon the strength to bed her almost every night. It seemed to her that he took less pleasure in it than when they had first married. She suspected it was now more an act of desperation, to sire an heir before his illness bested him.
During the days, they sat together for hours in his solar or in their chamber. They talked a great deal about Endle's plans for his estate and his relationship with the crown. He talked to her of his concerns should Geoffrey become heir to the earldom. Madeline told him of her idyllic childhood and how her friendship with Nathaniel had begun. He enjoyed hearing how her father had insisted she be trained in swordsmanship since the incident when she was a small child. When Endle was too fatigued to talk, Madeline read to him.
After weeks of worrying about and caring for Endle, she one day decided to take a stroll in the castle gardens. There was a peace to be found amongst the neat rows of herbs and vegetables. Away from the hustle and bustle of the busy castle, she could steal a few minutes of privacy and be alone with her thoughts. Thoughts that were too often occupied by Nathaniel. He was deteriorating as certainly as Endle was. She could see it in him. The good-humoured twinkle in his eyes had disappeared completely. He very rarely smiled and when he did it was only at a comely wench or a full tankard of ale. Madeline had tried to speak to him several times but had received only silence in reply to her entreaties. She felt she was losing both he and Endle.
She lowered herself down on a nearby bench and buried her face in her hands, praying silently for divine intervention for both. Slowly she became aware of the husky voices of two serfs further down the row. Not intending to eavesdrop, she nonetheless overheard the exclamation of one serf to the other.
"And what'd ye think of last eve?" the girl tittered. "The knight is a lusty one, is he not?"
Madeline stood to leave, unwilling to listen to the girls' sordid divulgences.
"That he is," the other giggled. "He was lover enough for the two 'o us at once, there's nay doubt."
Madeline felt herself redden in mortification.
"Aye, Sir Nathaniel is a man among men," the other laughed uproariously, joined by her companion.
The blood drained from Madeline's face, replaced by an icy paleness. She sank back down onto the bench until she had control of her shaking hands. Jealousy and rage exploded behind her eyes and she leapt to her feet and stormed off in search of Nate.
* * *
He was on the training field when she found him. Unusual, because more often than not these last weeks he missed training altogether. Currently, he was sparring with another knight. When she strode purposefully onto the field, they immediately lowered their swords and stepped away from each other. Madeline couldn't help but admire Nathaniel's bare torso as he stood gleaming with sweat, though he was noticeably thinner than he had been for many a year.
She tipped her head at the opposing knight, and dismissing him, turned to face Nate. Outrage coursed through her veins.
"How could you?" she ground out. "How could you do this? To me. To us."
Nathaniel stood, staring at her, a dumbfounded expression on his face. She saw when it shuttered.
"There is no us, milady," he rasped at her.
"Perhaps no longer," she spat. "But there always had been."
"Whatever we have lost is no fault of mine," he returned angrily.
"Whose fault is it then Nate?" she put her hands on her hips. "You barely speak to me anymore, and never unless forced. Yet you have attention for not one, but two whores at a time!" she blurted out.
Madeline was surprised when instead of retorting, Nathaniel chuckled. The laugh reverberated through him, though it was caustic and there was no mirth in it. "Ah, so that is what this is about." He narrowed his eyes at her. "I seem to remember, that once upon a time, you had no issue with using someone's willing body for a night."
She gasped at the unexpected blow.
"Perhaps you'd like to settle your differences in a way appropriate to the battlefield upon which you stand," they heard an amused voice utter as it neared them. They both looked up to see Lord Endle crossing the field, a fine sword held in his hand. "I'll be honest, my ears could not hear of what you speak, but since Lady Madeline told me of her skill with a sword I've been longing to see my beautiful wife in action. Perhaps a bit of swordplay will also release some of the angst between the two of you. True friendship is not to be taken lightly, but to be guarded carefully. Think on that," he said as he handed Madeline the sword and turned to stride away.
Nathaniel glared at his back. "Is he so moral and honourable in your bed as well?" he sneered quietly.
"He is a good man!" Madeline articulated through clenched teeth as she raised the sword. She arced it across with all her might to meet Nathaniel's in a reverberating blow. Recovering quickly, she corrected her stance, as he had taught her, and vented her anger and frustration whilst she rained blow upon blow down onto him. Nathaniel met all of her thrusts and parries with the skill he had long possessed. Nevertheless, Madeline continued her onslaught until they were both breathing heavily and her arms felt like jelly.
"Almost finished, my Lady?" Nathanie
l mocked. "I need my strength so I can serve the wenches again this night."
Madeline swung again at him, which he sidestepped. "You are welcome to them," she hissed. "I can assure you, I'll not be thinking of you whilst Endle is bedding me."
The torment of her statement sent an arrow piercing through his heart. In an instant his sword and body moved of their own accord, his mind set ablaze by her words and unable to function. Eventually however, his composure reclaimed control of his body, and his vision cleared to find Madeline down on the ground. The tip of his sword was at her throat. He stared down at her in stunned disbelief, the fog lifting for a brief, incredibly painful moment. She stared up at him with fear in her wide, beautiful green eyes that now glistened with unshed tears. And he was the cause. Hadn't he always said "what kind of a knight would he be if he defeated a lady?" He'd done just that. And not just any lady, Madeline. The infant he had sworn to protect. The girl he had saved. The woman he loved.
He let out a howl of pain and anguish, and dropped his sword to clatter to the ground. He sank to the dirt beside her. "Forgive me, Linny," he begged, broken, as he hunched over her.
Lord Endle's shouts and the footsteps of the approaching knights forced him to rise to his feet. Unable to face them in his disgrace, he left the field, head hanging low, moisture blurring his sight.
