Defiant Surrender

by Tamara Gill

  Maddie’s blood froze in her veins. The wise woman stilled, her eyes snapping open. Ancient orbs stared at William.

  “Tell me, m’lord, would you be prepared to wait for your time with Lady Madeline?”

  Maddie swallowed. What did that mean? She looked at William, who sat like set in stone. Maddie shifted in her chair, uncomfortable by the turn of events.

  “I’m married to Lady Madeline. There is no need to wait for her,” he laughed, the sound strained.

  Maddie kept her eyes on the wise woman, who nodded slowly. “Answer the question, m’lord. It is all I need to know,” she said, her brows raised.

  William cursed and stood. His face marked in strain, he turned and walked to the door. Maddie turned in her chair and met his gaze, his features softening in affection when he looked at her. “I would wait all eternity for her,” he said, and left.

  Maddie’s eyes prickled with tears. She looked back to Tshilaba and tried to smile. Mistress Rhode stood and poured wine for them all.

  “I do not mean to frighten you, m’lady. But there are other forces at play here. Your future may not be within your control.”

  “What do you mean?” Maddie asked. Every word from the woman seemed cryptic. The lady looked at her with sad eyes. An awful premonition that something bad was going to happen settled in Maddie’s belly.

  “You were born many years into the future. 1102 is not your time, m’lady. Your future here is not for you to decide,” Tshilaba said.

  More cryptic words. Maddie strove for calm. Did the woman not know? Or did she not want to say?

  “I will not leave, Lord William. Nor will I allow anyone to make me go. Some other dimension placed me here, and it can now live with its choice. I will not be sent home to a future now foreign to me,” Maddie said.

  Tshilaba stole a speaking glance to her daughter. “This was a mistake, m’lady, an error in the makeup of this world.” The wise woman paused and took a sip of wine. “The magic that sent you here will correct its fault. ’Tis as certain as the sun warming the soil and bringing forth life.”

  Maddie placed her wine down with shaking hands. “You are wrong, wise woman,” Maddie said, refusing to believe such words. “He’s my soul mate, why put me here in the first place to find him to only throw me back when I do?” she asked, her voice trembling.

  “I do not know, my child,” Tshilaba said, her eyes consoling. “Perhaps I am wrong.”

  Maddie swallowed the lump in her throat. No, the wise woman wasn’t wrong. She shouldn’t be here. She had known it from the very first when she landed in the carriage. Their love was doomed. And now they both knew it.

  Chapter Sixteen

  William watched his wife stride from her friend’s cottage. A smile tweaked his lips when Beth, a cook in the castle, ran out and passed Madeline her forgotten mantle. He looked up at the sky, the breeze warm on his face; but change was in the air.

  Spring was upon them. Pruning and new plantings would take place. William walked along the battlements and stopped to look fondly over Aimecourt. A home he had never thought to call such. Nor love as much as its mistress.

  He looked down at the carriages loaded with trunks and supplies for the journey south. And conceded he did not wish to leave. Did not wish to lose one ounce of time he had with Madeline. The wise woman’s words chilled his skin on this warm day.

  A bellow from the bailey yard pulled William from his thoughts. “Are we sparring, m’lord? Or do you have other…more urgent matters to attend?” Sir Alex said, his laughing voice carrying across the distance.

  William climbed down the stone steps and walked toward his first knight. He rolled his shoulders and unsheathed his sword, prepared his stance.

  “‘Tis your lucky day, Sir Alex. I have need to bloody someone’s lip. Better yours than any others,” he said.

  Sir Alex laughed then lunged.

  Swords clashed and rang throughout the yard. Sir Alex swiped at his chest and William threw himself back, the wind from the steel ruffling his tunic. He parried back, sliced high at his knights attempt to unbalance him, before falling low to fend off another strike.

  “‘Tis the best you can do, Sir Alex?” he mocked, coming to a stand.

  Sir Alex grinned and lunged. His sword swiped to William’s side. William counter hit his knight’s blade. Their strengths, well matched, held a moment, neither giving in. William won the battle then waited for his knight’s next move. They circled each other, both men gauging how best to strike.

  Sir Alex stabbed forward. William hit the blade to the side, circled his blade around, and flicked the sword out of Sir Alex’s hand. It landed with a thump some distance away from its owner.

  William threw his own sword away. His breath burnt fire in his chest. He barreled into Sir Alex and took him down. Punches rained. His knight landed a solid blow to his nose. William ignored his blood and punched Sir Alex’s jaw, the sound of cracking teeth making him smirk.

  They gained their feet. William wiped his nose with the back of his hand. Sir Alex working his jaw, ensuring it still functioned properly. They both started as a woman’s voice rang out from the crowd that surrounded them.

  William shook his head at his wife’s boldness. He inwardly sighed and watched her walk toward them. Her flawless skin was marred with a smudge of dirt. William fought the urge to smile.

  “What do you think you two are doing?” Madeline said, hands on hips.

  William crossed his arms over his chest. “Training,” he answered. “’Tis not your concern, my lady.”

  Maddie’s jaw fell open. “I didn’t think training for war would warrant fist fighting. Do you intend to get that close to your enemy?” Maddie asked, a sarcastic tone to her words.

  William’s lips twitched. “Aye, when the need arises,” he said.

  Maddie’s gaze snapped to Sir Alex when he swayed. She gestured toward William’s first knight. “How long were you going to continue punching each other to a pulp? I think our villages have seen enough testosterone induced madness for one afternoon.”

  “For as long as this testosterone you speak of, ma chère, takes to wear off.”

  Maddie frowned at her slip, William noted. She flushed. “It seems to be a constant in this time. A hormone that doesn’t wear off for centuries,” she quipped back, smiling.

  “Glad to hear it,” William said, his eyes locked on hers. Maddie looked around at the knights that stood watching their lord and lady argue. She smiled down at the squires, their bright eyes gazing up at her.

  “Well then, don’t let me detain you from your training,” she said and turned into the crowd.

  “Will you tend my wounds later, my lady?” William yelled when she made the keep’s door.

  Maddie looked back at him and shook her head. “Perhaps,” she shrugged and walked inside.

  William laughed as his wife retreated into the castle.

  *

  The next day, Maddie watched from the keep as William made final preparations for his departure to London. Lady Veronica and Lady Ribald had already settled into their carriage.

  Maddie pasted on a smile and tried to hide her unease over William accompanying Lady Veronica all those miles. Tried to hold onto instead how he awoke her this morn. The love and passion in his every touch should reassure her mind. And it did, to a point.

  William finished speaking to his page, turned, and strode toward her. His chain mail hung over his broad shoulders, his sword swaying with every stride. Her mouth dried and she sighed. William grinned as if knowing his person please her, which of course it did. Maddie walked off the steps and straight into his arms and hugged him. Never wanted to let go.

  “Please stay safe, William.” She felt his kiss at the crown of her head and she held him tighter.

  “I will, ma chère.”

  She fought the tears that threatened. “And hurry back, won’t you?” she said, the words almost a plea.

  “I will, love. I shall not be gone long. Sir Alex wi
ll ensure you’re kept safe. The castle itself is impenetrable as long as you stay within its walls.”

  Maddie looked up at him, his strong, callused hands cupping her chin. He kissed her. A chaste goodbye. Maddie swallowed her tears and willed herself to be strong. Yet, her lip trembled.

  “Keep well, wife.”

  “Of course, husband.”

  She watched him mount his horse, the action swift. The conveyances pulled away and set off. She kept watch until the drawbridge rose and cut off her view. She looked to Mistress Rhode and shrugged, not sure what to do. She was the lady of a castle. Ruler and responsible for of all the people who lived here. And now, she was on her own.

  *

  Three weeks after William’s departure, she heard the first word from him. He had arrived in London quicker than he had anticipated, because Lady Veronica and Lady Ribald had decided to stay at their family home in Cheshire with Veronica’s brother, Lord Ribald.

  It surprised Maddie. She had not known Lady Veronica was close to her brother. Although she was thankful that the woman would no longer be around William. It was silly and immature of her to continue to worry. But old habits died hard. Once burned, twice shy and all that.

  She looked out her bedroom window and watched the waves crash against the jagged stone below. What was William doing right now? Did he miss her as much as she did him? London, even in 1102, was a thriving metropolis, full of life. Court balls and dinners were held most nights.

  Maddie pushed away her upset. She missed him, would miss him dreadfully until his return. But she was the Lady Madeline, she would hold the fort and keep everyone safe. She had a castle to run and she would not wallow away, helpless and pathetic, scared of the unknown. She would keep herself busy until his return and stop counting the minutes since he had left.

  *

  By the time the second month of William’s absence had come and gone, Maddie was no longer just sick with worry but volatile. Not one word from him, other than his original missive that notified them of his arrival in London unharmed and that he would be home as soon as may be. What was this business he had? What was he doing that was taking so long?

  Maddie snatched up her blunt sword made by the castle’s blacksmith and walked out into the bailey. She twisted her wrist and worked the weapon, mentally prepared herself for her coming practice with Sir Alex.

  “Ah, so the Lady Madeline has come back for her second bout. I must say it pleases my soul that I can beat such a fearsome warrior such as yourself, m’lady,” Sir Alex said, leaning away from the keeps wall.

  Maddie laughed and watched him swing his sword. “You will not be laughing my good sir, when I whoop your butt.”

  Sir Alex shook his head. “Your speech is most strange at times, m’lady. Pray tell, what does ‘whoop’ mean?” he asked, with a quizzical brow.

  “It means, Sir Alex that I’m going to beat you soundly.” Maddie shifted her feet for better balance. “Now, if you have finished trying to delay our match, lift up your sword and prove to all who are watching that you are indeed a man.”

  “I am all man, m’lady. Do not doubt that,” he said, one eyebrow raised.

  Maddie smiled. “We shall see,” she said, and lunged.

  Sir Alex fought with her for a time and continually stopped to show her where she had gone wrong. Her arm ached from the strain of holding a sword. Maddie wondered how knights kept up such warfare for days on end.

  The metal dragged her arm down, pinched at muscles she hadn’t known she owned. With every strike, Sir Alex counteracted and pushed her back. Maddie gasped when the castle’s cold stone met her back then frowned when Sir Alex pinned her there with his weapon.

  “Do you yield, m’lady?”

  “I yield,” she said and laughed then stilled at Sir Alex’s stricken look.

  “What’s wrong, Sir Alex?” She followed his stare and noticed the large red welt just below her collarbone. It would be black and blue by morning.

  “When did you do that?” she said more to herself than to Sir Alex.

  “Lady Madeline, my sincerest apologies. I did not mean you any harm.”

  Maddie started to giggle. “Good sir, do not worry. I assure you I’m quite fine. It is only a bruise. Did I not ask you to teach me the ways of the sword?”

  She stepped away from the wall. “Well, I had better get this looked at.” She paused and looked at her friend whose features still showed distress. “It really is quite all right. Do not look so worried, Sir Alex, I will survive,” she said, patting his arm.

  “It is not your neck on the line, Lady Madeline, when your husband finds out I have hit you. It will be I who bruises then,” he stated.

  “Lord William is not here, Sir Alex. I’m sure by the time he does arrive home the bruising will be gone,” she said, trying not to sound bitter over his absence.

  “Lord William will be back, m’lady. How could he not with a wife such as you to return to.”

  Maddie smiled at the knight’s compliment. But it did not change the fact they had said farewell to William nearly three months ago. “Yes, I daresay you are right; maybe even today we will be graced with his presence.” She walked away; she had no stomach for further reassurance or pitying stares. “I will see you at supper. Thank you again for the sword practice,” she said, smiling.

  “You are welcome, m’lady.”

  Maddie walked into the keep and headed for her chamber. Called to a maid to fetch Mistress Rhode to attend her. Each of the stone steps to her floor seemed steeper this day. The all familiar longing settled in her chest. She missed William, longed for him more with every day that passed. She just wanted him home and back with her. Was it too much to ask? Maddie hadn’t thought so.

  Mistress Rhode diverted her thoughts over the next hour. Her maid’s flustered countenance over her wound was enjoyable to watch. That was until her maid started to put leeches over the bruising. Maddie cursed aloud and wondered why she had thought learning to sword fight had been a good idea. It was not.

  *

  Castle Dee, Cheshire

  “She is at Aimecourt and alone, you say, Veronica?” Lord Ribald asked, looking down at his seated sister.

  “Yes. The Baron of Kingston is away in London. From a letter received last week from a friend, it seems the king has kept him busy at court. He looks to return, but cannot for some weeks yet, by the king’s decree.”

  Lord Ribald contemplated his sister’s words, rubbing his hand across his jaw. What should they do? Strike now while she was unprotected by her husband? Or wait for a more opportune moment? Men were prepared now, waiting for his summons. He could be at Aimecourt within a day or two and have the Lady Madeline dispensed without problem.

  Yet Aimecourt was still a most trusted ally of the king, more so than any other Norman holding in northern England. It could prove troublesome; if the assassin was traced to his door, he would be killed and his family disgraced. He sat and drummed his fingers on the table. No, they would have to go about this some other way.

  “You said in your letters that rumors had started about Lady Madeline. What is the basis behind these tales? Is it known that the woman believes herself from the future, and is possibly a witch? Or do her people believe she is addled in the mind in some way?”

  “I believe she still assumes herself from the future. The servants are talking; their unease is starting to show. Talk is rife throughout the castle that the Lady Madeline is not all what she seems. Especially as the woman is a complete opposite from what she once was. I shared my concern with certain members of the household when I could,” Veronica smirked. “It is also understood there is a ring, which is attached somehow to her coming back in time. I have not found this piece of jewellery on my searches. Although ’tis thought Lord William bestowed a similar gift to her prior to his departure.”

  “Do you know which century Lady Madeline believes herself from?” he asked, his mind a whir of thoughts.

  “No, I do not, brother. But my maid h
as informed me there was a meeting between the Lady Madeline and her maid’s mother, a wise woman from Wales. From what my source could gather, Madeline believes this woman could help her return home. Apparently the ring can be used as a means for this.”

  Lord Ribald twisted his goblet in his hands. He nodded and smiled as the path to travel opened out like a well cobbled road in his mind. “’Twould be best, I believe, if we continue our plan to mark her as a witch or sorceress of some kind. People are afraid of other worldly beings, and her villagers no exception, no matter how well she treats them.” He took a sip of wine. “She will be killed or sent away. You will marry Lord William and Aimecourt will finally be ours.” He raised his cup in toast then took another sip.

  “Brother, I do not believe Lord William will have me. Furthermore, I no longer want him,” Veronica said. Lord Ribald looked up and focused on her. Had not missed the venom in his sister’s tone.

  “Why not? What have you done to displease him?”

  Veronica swallowed and he noted the sweat beading on her brow. “Nothing that I was not told to do,” she said. “I believe he suspects me of the arrow attack on Madeline. He thinks I harbor trouble for her ladyship. I may have been his mistress, but I still have my pride.” Veronica paused. “Mother’s revenge is not the only reason I want to see her dead. Lord William deserves to be hurt, too.”

  “Why kill her at all, if we cannot get you back where you were, married to a man and mistress to two of the greatest holdings in England.” His fist slammed against the table. He welcomed the fear that entered his sister’s eyes.

  “Because I want her dead, that is why,” Veronica said. “Her death would hurt Lord William very badly. Secondly, I would love nothing better than for Aimecourt to slip under Kingston rule. The high and mighty Vincent name a dream long gone. I believe Mother would be happy with this plan and concur. Both of us would get our revenge this way,” she said.

  Her brother strode to the window. The last rays of the day’s sun were warm on his skin.