Alinor

by Roberta Gellis

  That question nearly turned Alinor to stone, but in the next moment she could not help laughing. “He would not obey you,” she said. “No servant of mine would obey that kind of order unless it came from me. A fine state I should be in if my servants would obey any lordly-seeming man who gave them an order. I would not permit you to be insulted, my lord, but in a less anxious moment, if you will dress one of your men in fine garments, you can watch what my servants will do upon my order, even as you bid them cease. I promise you, I will call a halt before murder is done, but that they would do also, if I bid them.”

  “Lady?”

  The full impact of Alinor’s remarks had not hit Salisbury because he had been watching Beorn arrive at a dead run. He had thought, until Beorn spoke, that this must be some urgent news. Then he realized it was a normal response to a sharp order given by this woman.

  “If the reavers that Lord Ian captured were to turn upon him, how many men would you need to quell them?” Alinor asked Beorn.

  The master-at-arms looked startled. “Them? Lady, now that S—that their leader is gone, a rabbit with a loud squeak could put them to flight.”

  Alinor frowned. If Beorn was so sure, whatever danger there was, if there was any at all, did not come from the prisoners. Ian had kept only his few Welshmen and northerns with him, and she feared a rebellion of the captives could have overwhelmed them. Beorn did not suffer from the vainglory of a young knight who thought he could conquer the world, however. If anything, he was overcautious when asked for an opinion. Thus, if he said the captured reavers were no threat, they were none. If some other armed group had attacked, she would need information before she could act with intelligence.

  “Take a few men, then, and seek out Lord Ian. If all is well, tell him that the Earl of Salisbury and Lord Llewelyn are asking for him. If some ill has befallen, discover if you can what force we will need to set it right. In any case, send back to me in haste whatever news you find.”

  “It will be late, lady.”

  “At any hour day or night, Beorn.”

  “As you will, lady.”

  Salisbury had listened to this exchange with a growing sense of amusement. It was apparent that the impression of Alinor he had received from Ian had been misleading, to say the least. A frown flickered across his face as he wondered if that could have been deliberate. Many men tried to take advantage of Salisbury’s affectionate relationship with his brother. It was only a flicker of doubt that disappeared at once. Ian had never asked for anything. Nor, now that Salisbury thought of it, had Ian actually said anything much about Alinor to him. The talk had always been of Simon, of his strength and wisdom. It was from that Salisbury had assumed that Alinor was even more helpless and dependent than most women. In fact, Salisbury had openly warned Ian against marriage with a weak and stupid woman. He had been mildly piqued at the offhand assurance Ian had offered that he had no intention of seeking out such a one.

  No, Salisbury thought, looking at Alinor’s vivid, lovely face while she watched Beorn’s retreating back, she is neither weak nor stupid. “Come in, Lady Alinor,” he said, touching her arm gently. “It is cold and you have no cloak. I begin to think I was a fool to raise this worry in you.”

  “Never that, my lord,” Alinor responded with a slightly absent smile. “It is never hurtful to discover the truth of an unusual happening.”

  Night had fallen, but the merrymaking was still going strong in the great hall. Alinor was well pleased with her guests. Their spirits were high and the talk and laughter were loud enough that from time to time the dancers had to shout for silence so that they could hear the musicians. Although her toes tapped to the measures, Alinor had refused all offers to dance. She would, of course, have danced with Ian, but since he was not there she did not think it fitting to give her company to any man merely for the sake of pleasure so soon after Simon’s death. Unfortunately this thrust her into the orbit of the older ladies, or those who for some other reason would not dance, the most demanding of whom was the Countess of Salisbury. Whatever small irritation had remained in Alinor regarding Salisbury’s tentative assumption of authority disappeared completely. Poor man! No wonder he thought all women were idiots.

  “And of course I could not go to France,” Ela of Salisbury continued in her high-pitched yet drawling whine. “My health would not permit it. William is so inconsiderate. He knows I have not the strength to attend to the children and the estates, yet he is forever rushing off here and there—”

  “I am sure he does not do it apurpose,” Alinor murmured—not at all sure.

  If she had been Salisbury, Alinor thought, she would have left for the outer edge of the world—and stayed there. Either that or strangled the woman. The fact that Salisbury’s wife not only bore no bruises but was obviously not afraid of her husband convinced Alinor that Ian was right about him. He was a good man. More than that, he was a saint, Alinor decided, as the countess’s voice began again.

  “You think he must do whatever the king orders,” she whined, “but it is more than that. I tell him he loves his brother better than his wife or children. He is always eager to run John’s errands, as if he were a nothing. Lesser men should be employed. And John knows how weak I am. If William said I was ill—but he does not believe how tortured I am.”

  And neither do I, Alinor thought, so annoyed by the pitch of the voice and the fluttering, repetitive gestures that she did not notice the very shrewd expression in Lady Ela’s pale blue eyes. She looked only at the plump body and the very pretty, rosy face. You are as strong as an ox, you lazy bitch, Alinor thought.

  “Men often do not understand such matters,” Alinor remarked, concealing her contempt. “I have always found it best not to speak of my health at all.”

  “That is easy to say for someone who does not suffer ill health,” the countess drawled.

  There was a note of pride in her voice, Alinor noted, and in spite of her distaste for the woman, she felt a touch of sympathy. The ill health was her one distinction. Alinor raised her eyes and happened to catch sight of Isobel, who was dancing as lightfootedly as a girl with Robert of Leicester. If Isobel had not married William, who patiently taught her to handle such responsibility as she was capable of, Isobel would have become as much a bore about religion as this woman was about her health.

  Farther down the hall a flash of red hair made Alinor smile. Joanna was in seventh heaven, romping with the other noble children. The two ideas connected in her mind. Better suffer boredom than need the distinction of ill health or excessive faith. Joanna would not be taught the pleasures of idleness. She would be taught that she was a necessary and valuable part of life and thus she would set a high value on her own worth. Alinor would enquire among the guests for a suitable middle-aged gentlewoman. With such a woman and Father Francis to guide her, Joanna could be left to manage Roselynde while Alinor and Ian went on progress.

  “Lady Alinor,” Lady Salisbury whined, “I asked you if you were never ill.”

  “I beg your pardon, madam. I was watching my daughter at play. No, I am never ill.”

  “You are not troubled by your flux?”

  “Not at all, nor, to speak the truth, by breeding. I have found the last month tedious because it was difficult to ride, but—” Her voice checked. Sidling down the room, pressed as close to the wall as he could get for fear of touching and thus contaminating the gentlefolk, was Alinor’s chief huntsman. “I beg you excuse me, Lady Ela,” Alinor said hastily, controlling the tremor of nervousness in her voice. “I see a servant of mine where he should not be, and I must speak to him.”

  Deaf to the plaintive protests that reprimanding servants was the work for higher servants, not for a lady, Alinor rose and hurried toward her man, gesturing him to go back to the stairwell.

  “Lady, we have him,” the huntsman said eagerly, as soon as Alinor reached him.

  “Who?”

  “The messenger.”

  Alinor had almost forgotten him in her anxiet
y about Ian, but she did not allow her disappointment on one subject to blind her to the importance of the other. “Come,” she said briefly, and led the way upstairs. If this was the king’s messenger that had been taken, no ears but hers must hear of it. The huntsman looked around curiously when they emerged into the women’s quarters. He had never been above the great hall and never expected to be, but aside from instruments for weaving and spinning now pushed all together near the walls to make room for the beds of some of the guests, there was nothing to be seen. All the women were below.

  The luxury of Alinor’s chamber made his eyes bulge. He stopped in the entryway, reluctant to tread upon the glowing rug and, when Alinor gestured him forward impatiently, he was so impressed with the softness and warmth beneath his feet that he almost lost his voice.

  “Well?”

  The sharp question galvanized the huntsman into action. He drew a scroll and a purse from his breast and passed them to Alinor. “His clothing and weapons I left in my hut with one of the men to guard them. I was afeard to bring them in among so many.”

  “Wisely done! Well done!”

  It was the king’s seal on the message. Alinor took a deep breath. As to this part of her plan, everything was working to perfection. She emptied the coins from the purse and pressed them into the huntsman’s hand.

  “This is the man I looked for. Do not stop any further messengers. You have him safe? Will he know any of you again?”

  “He is trussed like a chicken for roasting and blindfolded. He might recognize the voice of John of the Marsh, but I do not think it. John took him by jumping from a tree. The man was stunned, and we took care to blindfold him at once.”

  “Has he said aught?”

  “Only again and again that he is a king’s messenger and threats as to what would befall us if we did not release him unharmed on the moment.”

  “Oh, most excellent! Listen close. One is to tell him, disguising his voice as best may be, that it is confirmed he is a king’s messenger. Thus, instead of slaying him out of hand, one of your number will try to obtain a ransom for him from the Lady of Roselynde. If she will pay, tell him, he will be freed. If not, he will die. Now he will bid you take the message you reft from him to me. Then the one who speaks with him is to laugh and refuse, saying the lady would pay no ransom if she had the king’s message already. Do you understand? But let that man tear off the seal and give it to a forester to bring to me.”

  “Yes, lady.”

  “Listen again. On the fifth day from now, I will be married. On the sixth day—the fingers of one hand and one more, so many days—you will tell the messenger that ransom has been paid. Say, if he asks, that two marks were paid. You will carry him, bound, to some place on the edge of the wood. There, give him back this scroll, loose his hands but not his feet, and leave him some sorry, half-dead nag—ask Beorn for one of the reavers’ horses for the purpose. Do you be sure he catch no sight of any of you in your huntsmen’s garb. If needful, let the man who frees him mask his face and—” Alinor laughed, “—and let him wear the man’s own garments. After that use they must be destroyed, and so must the trappings of the horse if they be marked by the king’s badge or in any other way out of the usual. Let one of the men hide his horse. I will send one who is not known as my man to dispose of it. You have done very well, huntsman, very well, indeed. The coins are yours. When the horse is sold, I will give you its value to be distributed among your men—and I will add two shillings for the value of the clothes that must be destroyed. If the man’s weapons are not marked in any way, they can go to the armory. If they are recognizable, they must go to the smithy to be suitably altered.”

  Alinor paused and thought over the situation. Had she covered everything? In the back of her mind she found that she was wondering where Beorn was and whether he had found Ian, instead of concentrating on the problem in hand. “Have I left aught hanging?” she asked the huntsman, too aware of her divided attention to trust herself.

  “Nay, lady. Our part is clear.”

  “Do you know by sight the young knight who came with Beorn and has been teaching Master Adam?”

  “Yea, lady.”

  “Find him and tell him quietly, that none may hear, to come here to me.”

  This was a fine opportunity to accomplish a multitude of purposes, Alinor thought, staring into the fire. What a good, obedient subject she was proving herself to be, paying a ransom of two marks for the king’s messenger. And now, to add one good to another, she had a chance to test Sir Guy by offering him an enormous temptation. On the thought, the young man presented himself in the doorway.

  “Come you in,” Alinor said. “You have kept your parole, Sir Guy, and have done well and willingly each task I have laid upon you. Now, however, it is growing dangerous to have you here among my guests, and I have another task that may as well be done now as any other time. I have a horse that must be sold well off my lands, and secretly—at least the sale need not be secret, only the fact that I have had anything to do with the horse must be kept quiet.”

  “Very well, my lady.”

  “You may take some armor of the lesser sort, a sword, a lance, a blank shield, and the lesser brown destrier to ride. I will give you some money also. I do not care where you go or what tale you tell, so long as it be a decent distance and so long as you be returned here on the tenth day. The huntsman will tell you where to find the horse. Is all clear?”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  It was interesting that he did not ask why she wanted to be rid of the horse; was he duller or cleverer than she thought? If she had guessed wrong, she would be the poorer by two horses and some arms and armor—a proper price to pay for overgreat trust in a guileless countenance. If she were right, however, if he did not ask because his loyalty was great enough to do anything, right or wrong, on her command, then she would have gained a really valuable servant. If Sir Guy did not run, having been given arms, armor, money and two reasonably valuable horses, he was truly a young man of honor. With a sigh, Alinor rose. It was time to go and continue her courtesies to Lady Ela. As awful as that was, it was better than to sit and wonder whether Beorn, too, had been swallowed by the mysterious silence that had enwrapped Ian.

  Chapter Eleven

  Although she had been some hours abed, Alinor was not asleep. Late, Beorn had said, and Alinor knew that it was slower to ride at night than in daylight. Nonetheless, some message should have come by now, even if it was only to say that no trace could be found of Ian or of his men. She told herself firmly that she was a fool. News would come no sooner if she lay awake. Resolutely she closed her eyes. A moment later a sound brought her bolt upright. Nothing, Alinor hissed at herself, it is nothing! A bed creaked. That is all. Desperately, she stuffed her fingers in her ears and lay down again.

  The position could not be held long, of course. It was too uncomfortable. Alinor relaxed the pressure of her fingers, then pulled her hands away violently.

  “… you to leave me here. Do not wake Lady Alinor, I say.”

  The voice was so low that, had she not been awake and despite her efforts listening for every sound, it would not have disturbed her. Alinor slid out of bed and pulled on her bedrobe.

  “Lord, lord,” she heard Beorn pleading, “the lady is not one lightly to be disobeyed. She bade me wake her with news at any hour. She—”

  Alinor lit a candle from the night light that stood by the bed and came into the antechamber. Ian was in one of the chairs, his left leg stretched stiffly in front of him, and Beorn leaned over him. They both looked up as she entered with identical, shamefaced, guilty expressions, like two little boys caught raiding the honey-pot.

  Torn between overwhelming relief and exasperated rage, Alinor managed not to say a word. She quietly went and lit the candles that stood near each chair.

  “My lady—”

  “Alinor—”

  The voices blended, again identical in their placatory tone. Alinor bit her lip. “You may go, Beorn.”<
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  She could not castigate her man. He was caught between the upper and the nether millstone. He dared not disobey either one of them. Fortunately it was a rare occasion when the orders he received from his lady and his new lord would be as diametrically opposed as they had been this day. Alinor did not turn to Ian until Beorn’s soft steps had faded completely. When she did look at him, his eyes were closed and even the golden light of the candles could lend no warmth to his gray pallor.

  “Ian! What is amiss?”

  “Such stupidity,” he sighed. “Like a careless child, I stepped on a stone and wrenched my knee. You would not believe so little a thing could cause such pain.”

  “When did this happen?”

  “Almost a week ago. The day your messenger came to tell me William of Pembroke was come.”

  “Why did you not send the messenger back? I would have come to you. Or I would have sent a litter so you could be carried home. Really, Ian—”

  “Alinor, be still! I hurt. I do not wish to argue with you about what I could have or should have done. For the one thing, how could I send for you when the rest of our guests might arrive at any moment? That I should be absent was bad enough. That we should both be lacking would be too much discourtesy. For the second, to speak the truth, I could not endure the thought of being moved at first. I suppose I should have sent to tell you what had happened to me, but I felt such a fool!”

  Impulsively, Alinor bent forward and kissed him. Before he could recover from his surprise and take hold of her, she was gone. She called through the door to the room where her maids slept, sending one for bandages, another for cold water. She ordered also that two men be roused to bring more cold water every little while.

  “Can you go so far as the bed?” Alinor asked while the maids threw on their clothing. “Or should I tell them to send up some men to carry you?”

  “What bed?” Ian asked bemusedly. Had Alinor kissed him? So swift had it been that he wondered now if he had willfully imagined it when she merely bent over him.