A King's Betrayal

by Sole, Linda

  Looking up at him, Beth was alarmed as she saw the queer blind look in his eyes and knew that he was beside himself with hurt and anger. He was as he had been at the cottage the day he raped her and she was suddenly afraid.

  ‘No, please,’ she whispered and tried to pull free of him. ‘Let me go, William. Do not do this, I beg you. You were sorry before…sorry that you hurt me.’

  ‘I should have hurt you more,’ he muttered. ‘I should have brought you here whether you wished it or no. You are a wanton slut and you deserve to be treated as a whore. I would have wed you but now I shall keep you as my whore. You will do as I want or you will go hungry. You will learn to please me and beg for favours on your knees.’

  ‘Let me go,’ Beth wept as he suddenly swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. ‘I beg you to let me go. I am sorry I hurt you. I did not mean to deceive you but it was too difficult to tell you the truth.’

  William was not listening. He flung her down on the bed and fell on top of her. His greedy mouth was on hers, his tongue pushing inside her mouth. Beth struggled, pushing at him as she fought to free herself of his weight. He held her with one hand while he parted her thighs with the other and then untied his breeches. She felt his heat and the smooth hardness of his male organ against her inner thigh and she pushed hard at his shoulders.

  ‘If you do this I shall hate you. I had begun to like you, even care for you – but if you rape me I shall hate you until the day I die.’

  ‘You are mine and I shall have you when I want you – whenever I want you.’

  ‘No! Please let me go. I beg you.’

  William was not listening. Lost in his bitter thoughts and heated with desire, he sought her soft moistness and thrust his finger inside her. For a moment he rubbed frantically at her nub, then he lifted himself and thrust into her. Beth was not wet but she had born a child and his entry caused her less pain than the first time he’d raped her. At first she tried to thrust him away but he slapped her, bringing tears to her eyes. She lay still then and let him have his way, knowing that there was nothing she could do to stop him. The humiliation and mental hurt was more painful than the physical pain, shaming her and making her feel she wished to die.

  When William had done with her he rolled away. Then in another moment he had left the bed. Her eyes were closed but she knew that he stood looking down at her.

  ‘You will hate me now,’ he said in a voice filled with pain and self-loathing. ‘I shall marry you, Beth, no matter what others say. Perhaps one day you will forgive me again. I love you. I cannot let you go.’

  Beth rolled over on the bed and put her feet to the floor. She looked at him, her eyes misted with the tears she could not hold back.

  ‘I shall not stop with you now,’ she said. ‘I would have wed you and been a good wife to you for I did like you – but you have killed any feeling I had for you. I am leaving and you cannot hold me.’

  ‘No!’ he cried, pleading and anger mixed as he grabbed hold of her arm. ‘Forgive me, Beth. I love you. You haunt my dreams and I am never free of you. If you go I shall be only half alive.’

  ‘You destroyed what we might have had,’ she said and began to walk past him. ‘I must look for my child.’

  ‘You shall not go!’

  William grabbed at her arm. Beth gave a cry of fear and reached for the iron chamber-stick standing on the coffer close to her right hand. Her fingers closed about it. She lifted her arm and struck at his face, the metal cutting him above his eyebrow. It was a glancing blow but for some reason it sent him off balance and he fell, hitting his head against an iron sconce on the wall. He made a small sound of pain and fell to the floor like a stone.

  He looked pale and still. Had she killed him? Beth’s heart stood still as she bent over him and touched his face.

  ‘William…’

  ‘What have you done?’

  Beth glanced round and saw Ruth staring at her in horror. ‘We struggled and I hit him with the chamber-stick,’ she said, feeling sick. ‘It was not enough to hurt him but he fell and hit his head against the iron sconce. I – is he dead?’

  Ruth bent down and placed two fingers to his throat. She shook her head and looked up at Beth.

  ‘He lives but he may die of such an injury. There is blood seeping from the back of his head.’

  ‘They will hang me,’ Beth said, a hand going to her throat. ‘He saved me from the mob but now they will hang me.’

  ‘Not if you go quickly,’ Ruth said. ‘Here, take my cloak and basket. I was going to the village for there is a fair in the meadow. I have a few silver pennies in my purse. It is not much but it may help you on your way.’

  ‘What of you?’

  ‘I must stay here to nurse him and do what I can,’ Ruth said. ‘If he dies you will be hunted as a witch and put to trial. If he lives perhaps William will let you go.’

  ‘Where shall I go?’

  ‘I cannot tell you – perhaps to the Sisters of Mercy,’ Ruth said. ‘You must go at once. Avoid the village and the fair, Beth. If you tarry you may be taken. My mother will raise the alarm and I cannot stop her.’ She stood up, then kissed Beth’s cheek. ‘I know what happened here was not your fault but no one else will believe you. You must leave this place and find a new life – and go quickly. Let no one stop you. The guards know I intended to visit the fair. Pull the hood of my cloak over your head and leave before anyone guesses what has happened here.’

  ‘Yes, I shall do as you say.’ Beth hesitated one moment more. ‘I have no god but I pray that yours will love and protect you – and bring you happiness.’

  ‘You will be in my prayers every night, Beth. Now go quickly for I must tend William or he will certainly die.’

  ‘If he recovers tell him I am sorry – and I do not hate him.’

  Beth pulled the hood of Ruth’s cloak over her head and went out. She ran down the twisting stair to the great hall below. Servants and men-at-arms were going about their business and no one glanced at her. Leaving the hall by the side door, she walked through the inner bailey where the craftsmen were at work. She could hear the ring of steel as men practised swordplay and others worked at cleaning their armour. Her heart was racing and at any moment she expected to hear a shout and cries that she was to stop. Once it was known that the lord was badly injured she would be blamed. Anne Redfern would name her a witch and a murderess and start a hue and cry. Sir William’s men would search the woods and the surrounding area. They would hunt her down and when they had her they would show no mercy.

  Ruth had warned her to avoid the village and the fair that was going on in the meadow. Beth knew that she must make for the woods. There she might visit the hut and recover a few things she had left just in case she had to leave the village in a hurry. She had always known it could happen – but she had not expected that she would be hunted for murder.

  She would pay a brief visit to the hut but could not stay there. She must leave the area, perhaps leave England altogether. A thought came to her mind that she might try to find the Marches, wherever they might be. Ruth had told her they were the borders between England and Wales. Perhaps she should try to cross the border into Wales? She had come to believe that it might have been in Wales that Marthe found her when she was a child.

  She had no idea in which direction Wales lay but that was for the future. For the moment she must leave the lord’s castle and his land.

  No one stopped her as she left the castle through the side gate, which was used by villagers coming and going about their business. During the night it was locked and a heavy bar was placed over it to stop anyone entering but during the day it was freely available for visiting peddlers, villagers or pilgrims on their way to worship at a shrine. Sir William seldom closed his gates during the day, though at night they were heavily guarded against surprise attack.

  Walking down the side of the hill where the herbs grew, which was out of sight of the village and the meadow, Beth resisted the urge to run and w
alked at a sensible pace until she reached the wood and knew she could no longer be seen. Suddenly, the danger of her situation swept over her and she began to run. Her heart was pounding as the fear coursed through her. She could not stop to take her leave of Mistress Grey. She could only hope that her friend would take the livestock and whatever else she needed from the cottage. Beth would have no more need of it now. She could never return to Sir William’s land.

  She ran until she saw the hut, stopping then only because her side was hurting and she could scarce breathe. Panting, she leaned against the tree under which Marthe was buried, feeling the sting of tears. This and the village were all she knew. Where could she go? Her hand reached for the cross she still wore on a ribbon beneath her gown.

  ‘Mother,’ she whispered. ‘Mother…help me. I am so alone.’

  ‘Tears won’t get you anything.’

  It was Marthe’s voice she heard. She could not hear the soft gentle voice she loved or see the face of the beautiful angel, but Marthe’s image was clear in her mind.

  ‘You’ll manage, as we all have to. Life is hard and we endure.’

  How many times Marthe had said something similar when Beth had wept as a child, crying out for a kiss or a pair of gentle arms to hold her. Marthe had given her only a sullen glare and harsh words, forcing her to find a way of living in the cruel world that was all they knew. Beth realised that the woman had given her independence and taught her how to stand up for herself.

  ‘Yes, I shall manage,’ Beth said and lifted her head proudly. She walked towards the hut but as she did so, she heard the sound of a horse’s hooves and her heart caught. Had they come for her already? Where should she go? If she went into the hut she would be trapped. Better to face whoever it was out here.

  Lifting her head, she looked and saw the man dismounting. He tied his horse’s reins to a branch and then came towards her. In that instant Beth knew him and her heart began to race wildly. He was the Knight of the Raven – the man she had lain with by the pool: Katharine’s father.

  ‘I have found you,’ he said. ‘I went to the hut earlier but there was nothing there so I searched for the pool but you were not there either. Where have you been?’

  ‘Why do you wish to know?’ Beth’s fear had receded but her heart still thudded in her breast. She needed a moment before her breathing returned to normal.

  ‘I came to look for you. I wanted to see if you were still as beautiful, as I thought you that night.’

  ‘Am I?’ Beth looked up at him.

  ‘More beautiful than I remembered.’ He walked towards her. ‘Come with me, my lady of the woods. I am bound for London and then for France. Come with me and be my mistress.’

  ‘You would not want me if you knew what people say of me…’

  ‘What do they say – that you are a witch? I have heard that before from Sir William but I did not believe it then and I do not believe it now.’

  Beth hesitated. If she told him that she might have killed Sir William what would he do? Would he hand her over to those who would hang her?

  ‘I might be worse. I might have done things you would think evil. There are people searching for me now who think so – and they would hang me if they found me.’

  His eyes darkened as he looked at her. ‘If you were guilty of some crime you would not tell me these things. I sense you are in some trouble, Beth – did you not tell me your name was Beth?’

  ‘Yes, that is my name. Yet perhaps you should know what I have done.’

  ‘You may tell me the worst later,’ he said. ‘I do not think you evil but I will hear your story. Give me your word that you will come with me and I will take you away from the fools who would hurt you.’

  ‘Yes, I shall come,’ she said. For a moment her heart cried out that she must search for her child, but her head told her that she dared not make inquiries for Katharine. If she did she would be taken as a witch. Everyone knew that the lord had made a search for her child and soon they would know that she had killed him.

  ‘Forgive me’ she whispered in her heart. ‘Forgive me, my darling child. I promise that I shall find you one day. I pray that someone has you safe and will keep you safe – and one day I shall return to look for you.’

  In her heart Beth knew that her daughter might already be dead. If the woman that took her had abandoned her she would have died where she lay on the roadside, but if she had cared for her she was safe.

  One day Beth would find her. Perhaps if she told her knight that the child was his he would have a search made for her. Suddenly, the weight lifted from her shoulders. His name was Raoul and he was Katharine’s father. Surely when he knew the truth he would send men to search for her.

  He might succeed where she would almost certainly fail. It was her only chance. She must go with the Knight of the Raven and be his mistress.

  Part Three

  Forty Nine

  ‘I would see Sir William,’ Lord Tomas said as he dismounted from his horse in the courtyard and a man who was clearly Sir William’s steward came towards him. ‘I sent a servant ahead with a message that I would be here yesterday, but my squire was foully robbed and murdered and we stopped to bury him. We searched for those responsible but could find no trace of them; they had disappeared as if they had never been.’

  ‘Forgive me, my lord,’ the steward said and bowed. ‘I am sorry for your misfortune and the murder of your squire, but Sir William cannot see you today. He lies ill upon his bed and we fear that he may die of his wounds.’

  ‘I am sorry to hear that.’ Tomas frowned. ‘What ails your master?’

  ‘He was attacked by the witch,’ a woman’s spiteful voice said, making Tomas turn to look at her sharply. She was a thin woman with a pale face, her mouth twisted with malice. ‘The witch deceived and bewitched him into thinking the child she bore was his and when he discovered her lies she tried to murder him.’

  ‘Mistress Redfern, have a care what you say,’ the steward said uncomfortably. ‘We do not know what happened. If you defame Mistress Beth’s character Sir William may be angry. We must wait to hear what he has to say when he recovers his senses.’

  ‘If he recovers them,’ Anne Redfern said, her mouth hard with spite. ‘If he dies I shall see that the witch is taken and punished for her crimes. If she was not responsible why did she run away?’

  ‘I cannot answer you, lady, but I know that my lord intended to wed her and I shall not speak ill of her until I know the truth.’

  Her eyes flashed with temper. ‘If Sir William dies I shall be mistress here. You would do well not to forget it.’

  ‘I do not mean to insult you, lady, but my master is the lord here.’

  Anne Redfern glared at him but made no further reply.

  ‘Would you and your men care to rest and eat with us, sir?’ the steward asked as Mistress Redfern turned away. ‘Will you come into the castle and take some refreshment?’

  ‘I am not sure I should intrude at such a time,’ Tomas said. ‘I was told of a young woman who lived in Sir William’s woods and I would find her if ‘tis possible. I am searching for my daughter, who was stolen from us when she was but a child, and I believe she might be living near by.’

  ‘A young woman who lived in Sir William’s woods?’ The steward hesitated, then, ‘Perhaps you should speak with Mistress Ruth. Her mother speaks ill of Beth but I have heard good of her and I think Ruth might tell you more.’

  ‘You mean it was she that Mistress Redfern spoke of as a witch? My daughter would be in her nineteenth year and has a small child.’ Tomas gave a muttered oath as the steward’s expression confirmed it. ‘Why has she been condemned as a witch? What crime has she committed?’

  ‘The priest preached against witchcraft and raised the village against her, though I have heard that all she did was to try to help people with simple cures,’ Master Steward said. ‘Sir William rescued her when they put her to the test and brought her here. She was a sweet gentle lady and in much distress b
ecause her child was lost.’

  ‘Her child lost – how?’

  ‘Come into the hall, my lord. I shall call Mistress Ruth for she will tell you more. I believe they were good friends. I do not know what happened to Sir William. He was found with a wound to his head in Mistress Beth’s chamber and she had gone. Mistress Redfern cried murder and ordered the men to look for her, but though they searched the wood they could not find her.’

  ‘We shall rest here for a few hours,’ Tomas said. ‘I have searched for the girl for such a long time. I thought that I was close to finding her. If I must go home and tell my wife that I have failed it will break her heart. I would hear what Mistress Ruth hath to say, and then I shall search for the lady I seek. If she has run away because she fears that she will be accused of murder, she may be hiding. It will not easy but I am determined to find and protect her if I can.’

  ‘Mistress Ruth will help you for…ah, here she is now…’ Master Steward looked anxiously at the young woman who approached. ‘What news, mistress? Is the master recovered?’

  ‘He is much better, though still has some pain. I have given him a tisane and I think it will ease him,’ Ruth said. ‘He has given orders that Beth is not to be harmed. She is to be searched for until she be found – but if any man harms her he will be punished. What happened here was my cousin’s fault and an accident. No blame attaches to Beth.’

  ‘It is as I told your lady mother,’ Master Steward said and nodded. ‘I shall pass my lord’s commands to the men and they will go out to search for her again – and we shall let it be known that he is not at death’s door. Perhaps then the lady will know it is safe to return.’

  ‘I do not believe she will return,’ Ruth said. ‘She was in such distress over her lost daughter. I think she may try to search for her on her own.’

  ‘Forgive me, lady. May I take a little of your time?’ Tomas said removing his heavy leather gauntlets and throwing back his hood of mail. ‘Master Steward tells me that you knew Beth well. It was she that I came to find for I was told that she lived in Sir William’s woods?’