The Agents of William Marshal Volume II: A Medieval Romance Bundle

by Kathryn Le Veque

“I do not want you here!”

  “And I do not care.”

  Thwarted, she growled and grunted as he dragged her over to a small table which now contained a large platter of food and a full pitcher of wine. He could see it steaming. He tried to sit down with Emelisse on his lap, but she stomped on his feet and tried to kick him in the knee, so he rethought that strategy.

  It had been easier on the floor.

  He couldn’t very well stand up with her all night, or even lay on the cold floor. Somehow, he had to secure her so he wasn’t on his guard all night long, for he knew he could not leave her, not until this madness passed.

  If it ever would.

  One big arm held her fast as he used his free hand to unstrap the belt at his waist, the one that secured his sheath for his broadsword. It took some doing as she continued to fight. At one point, she got away from him, but he grabbed her by the hair. That effectively stopped her, but she tried to beat him with her fists as he separated his belt from his sheath, and the strips of leather that secured the sheath to his belt and to his thigh.

  On and on it went, with him holding her by the hair and her trying to kick him and hit him. All the while, she never said a word and neither did he, but they didn’t have to. The stakes were established. Caius knew what would happen if he let her go, and Emelisse was trying her very best to force him to release her.

  But he wouldn’t.

  Somehow, he managed to maneuver her into a chair and, using his belt, he tied her wrists and secured them to the back of the chair. He feet were a little more challenging and at one point, she kicked at him so hard that she topped the chair backwards, onto her arms. That was a painful fall, but as she lay there mostly unmoving because it hurt her arms the way the chair had fallen, he managed to tie off both of her ankles to the legs of the chair.

  Finally, when she was completely secured, he righted her. Wearily, he sat down on the chair opposite her.

  “Now,” he said, his patience strained. “Lady de Wrenville was kind enough to bring you food and you will eat it.”

  Trussed up, with no way to escape, Emelisse simply turned her head away from him. “You cannot make me.”

  “You are mistaken if you believe that.”

  Mostly, she was right. He tried to feed her some bread with butter, but she refused it. When he did manage to cram some of it into her mouth, she spit it all out at him. The first time, it went on the floor, but the second time, he had been too close and it hit him in the chin. Every time he tried to put food in her mouth, it came spraying out at him.

  If it hadn’t been so frustrating, it would have been comical.

  Patiently, Caius wiped the bread from his chin and neck, wiping his hands on the cloth that had come covering the food. He could see that the solid food wasn’t going to work, but if he could get her to drink enough of the wine, perhaps she would pass out from the drink. Perhaps sleep would give her the time she needed to recover her wits.

  He knew that he could use the reprieve.

  Pouring a full measure of warmed wine into the cup, he stood up and came around behind her. Emelisse eyed him warily, almost panicky when he stood behind her. Reaching around her head and trying to avoid her teeth, he pulled her head up against his torso, hugging her tightly to keep her from moving around, and pinched her nose shut. The second she opened her mouth to protest, he poured the wine down her throat.

  Emelisse sputtered and coughed, but the wine made it into her belly. The second time he tried it, however, she was smarter about it and tried to spit it out, but he held her mouth shut and she had no choice but to swallow. Caius continued that until he was able to force the entire cup down her throat, more or less. Because she hadn’t eaten in more than a day, the effect of the wine was almost immediate.

  She started weeping again.

  “Why?” she gasped as he poured more drink into her mouth. She swallowed and coughed. “Why do you care what happens to me so much? Why would you do this to me?”

  While she was sobbing, he poured himself some of the wine and drained the entire cup. He let go of her head and went back to the table, shoving bread and cold beef into his mouth.

  “Why would I keep you alive?” he said sarcastically, chewing. “Because I would be a careless fool, indeed, to let you kill yourself. I told you before that it is the coward’s way out. You seemed like a calm, reasonable woman when I first met you, but I am coming to see that I was wrong. Maybe you are weak and foolish. Will that be my impression of the House of de Thorington?”

  That brought a reaction from her. “My family is not weak and foolish,” she said. “But everyone has their limit. Everyone has their point of no return, when you are at your wit’s end and cannot fight any longer. What is your point of no return, Knight?”

  He looked at her. “I do not have one,” he said. “But you… you are faced with what you consider something insurmountable and your only reaction is to try and kill yourself? There are people willing to help you, my lady. You shame their efforts, not the least of which are Lady de Wrenville’s efforts. The woman is willing to plead your case to her husband and she does not even know you. Would you truly show such disregard for her?”

  Emelisse looked at him, those dark blue eyes swirling with turmoil. Her manner seemed to calm a good deal at that moment, reflecting on his words. The fire of panic in her eyes flickered and faded. From a raging madwoman only moments before, it was as if a candle had been blown out. She sagged and dimmed, the fight gone out of her.

  “It was not my intent to show her disregard,” she said. Then, she swallowed hard and lowered her gaze. “It was not my intent to show any of you disregard. But I have lost my father today and my home. You have just told me that there is a plan to marry me to my family’s worst enemy. You will forgive me if my behavior is not as it should be.”

  She was starting to sound reasonable and levelheaded again, and he was feeling the least bit guilty for scolding her. She was right – she’d lost her father and home today. Everything had changed today. He wasn’t entirely sure that if he’d known such an upheaval, he wouldn’t behave erratically, either. He had told her he’d never reached the point of no return in his life, ever.

  He hoped that was always the case.

  But he could see that she was surrendering, at least for the moment. That was all he wanted; a moment of calm with her, of peace, to help her understand that the situation wasn’t completely hopeless.

  At least, he didn’t think so.

  He hoped he was right.

  “It is understood and you are forgiven,” he said quietly. “But it would help us all tremendously if you were to keep your wits about you. It makes it much easier to help you.”

  She looked at him, then. “You?” she said. “Will you help me, too?”

  He nodded, without hesitation. “I will,” he said. In a moment of weakness, he sat down and faced her. “My lady, I have heard a great many things today and none of them pleasant. Almost all of it revolves around Covington de Wrenville, but I want to explain something to you and I hope you will understand. Will you hear me?”

  Emelisse nodded, but there was utter exhaustion in her movements. “I will listen,” she said. “And… and I promise I will not run for the window again if you untie me.”

  Caius hated to be suspicious of her because she’d calmed with unnatural speed. His hesitation was obvious because she nodded as if to acknowledge his thoughts.

  “I swear that I will be honorable,” she said. “It’s simply that the bindings are causing my hands to go numb.”

  “I hope that is true because I will not be fooled twice. My trust is given only once.”

  She nodded in resignation and, after a moment’s indecision, he stood up and unfastened his belt and the ties on her ankles, realizing how very tight he’d tied them. Her feet were nearly purple. Tossing the belt and ties onto the bed where his sword was, he sat back down again as Emelisse rubbed at her hands, trying to restore the blood flow.

  “N
ow,” he said. “What I speak of will not leave your lips. Do I have your vow?”

  “You do.”

  He leaned forward on the table. “I told you that de Wrenville married Lady Alice de Gras,” he said. “That makes him related to William Marshal, which is why I have come. Originally, my intent was to lend support in his quest against Hawkstone because he has told everyone, including the king, that your family is loyal to the French. That is my whole purpose here. But in speaking to you, and to a great many other people, I am coming to see that it is not the truth.”

  Emelisse closed her eyes and hung her head.

  “Nay, it is not the truth,” she said, her head coming up and her eyes bright with unshed tears. Reaching out, she impulsively grasped his big hand, the same one that she’d bitten earlier. “Thank you for believing me, my lord. I swear to you that we would never do such a thing.”

  Caius felt the heat from her hand like a brand. He almost pulled away, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He liked the feel of her hand, holding his. He simply let her hold him without reacting when the truth was that he wanted to respond.

  “While I am not here to pass judgment on the motives of men, I am here to determine the truth,” he said. “It seems to me that the truth is that Covington, or his son, or the king, or all three of them, have concocted this story in order to justify the attack on Hawkstone. I am telling you this for a reason. My explicit instructions from William Marshal were that I cannot use his army against Winterhold. That means I cannot help you with the army.”

  She was gazing into his eyes, steadily. “I would not ask you to,” she said. “All I ask is that you call the man off. Have him recall his men from Hawkstone. Let us try to pick up the pieces of the shambles he has created and resume our lives as best we can.”

  Caius sighed heavily, averting his gaze. His focus fell on her small, battered hand as it clutched his and he felt something tug in his chest. He lifted his free hand to pat her fingers, but something stopped him. It wasn’t a natural gesture with him, but he very much wanted to do it. He wanted to give her comfort.

  God, what is happening to me?

  “I cannot call the man off,” he said. “I am not his liege, but Wolverhampton is. He is trying to force de Wrenville to recall his men. It may be that a stalemate will be declared, and the situation must go to the king for a resolution, but I assure you that Wolverhampton will be on your side. He knew your father and his death has distressed him greatly. My lady, I am telling you all of this so you know there are people willing to help you. Killing yourself… that is not the answer. We are willing to stand with you, so you must be willing to continue standing until the end.”

  Emelisse nodded, accepting the fact that she was not alone in this situation. It was surprising that people she did not even know were willing to fight for her. It did wonders for her manner, her expression, even the glimmer in her eyes. Caius could see that the woman truly thought she had been fighting this battle all on her own.

  But no longer.

  “Then you have my thanks,” she said after a moment. “I am very grateful to know you understand my plight and very grateful for the intervention of Wolverhampton. You cannot know how much better it makes me feel. But… but may I ask you a question?”

  “You may.”

  “Will you help me escape? I do not want to be a prisoner here, especially if Marius is coming. Will you please help me?”

  He cocked his head, looking at her seriously. “Where would you go?” he asked. “You cannot return to Hawkstone. Most of it is filled with Winterhold troops. They would capture you the moment you showed your face.”

  She nodded bravely. “I know,” she said. “I will still return home. I will simply return to the mountain, where they cannot find me. No one could. Hawk Mountain will protect me until this is all over with. Until Marius de Wrenville is no longer interested in marrying me.”

  He watched her face as she spoke about her beloved mountain. He’d seen it before, earlier in the day when she’d first spoken of her ancestral property, and there was great love and awe present in her expression. He admired those who loved the land as much as she clearly did. Being a wandering man, he didn’t exactly understand it, but he admired it.

  “You have piqued my interest enough that I must see this Hawk Mountain someday,” he said. “This mountain that men will go to war over.”

  She smiled faintly. It was the first time he’d seen her smile and it was as if something suddenly came alive inside him. He could feel it growing in his chest, warming him, flowing through his limbs and making him feel just the least bit giddy.

  Oblivious to Caius’ reaction to her, Emelisse spoke.

  “There is a formation of rocks at the top of the mountain,” she said, her eyes taking on a distant look. “It is a pile of rocks, the color of bronze, and they face the east. When my brother and I were children, my father used to take us to those rocks before dawn, because to watch the sunrise from them is to see the world as it was always meant to be – rich, lush, radiant, and pure. It is a moment when you become one with the earth, and the earth with you. When I told you that Hawk Mountain had mystical qualities, that is what I meant. At the end of all things, I want to be on those rocks, watching the sunrise. I have always sworn that, if it was within my power, that is where I would breathe my last. It was where my father wished to breathe his last, also.”

  She suddenly lowered her head, swallowing hard, and Caius was certain the tears were about to come again but she was trying hard to fight them off. She was still holding his hand and he didn’t want to disrupt that grip, so he used his free hand to push a bowl of cabbage at her, stewed with vinegar and wine, in the hopes that it might be something to distract her from her sorrow. They’d made good progress and he didn’t want to see her slip back into the oblivion of despair.

  The distraction worked.

  There was a spoon in the bowl and Emelisse eyed it for a moment before finally reaching out to pick up the spoon. In doing so, she released his hand. Though he was sorry she had, he was glad that she was at least showing interest in the food instead of focusing on the loss of everything she held dear. He poured her more wine, putting it in front of her as she took a spoonful of the cabbage. Finally, she began to eat and drink without spraying food all over the place.

  Finally, there was some peace between them.

  But it had been hard fought.

  When Hallam returned later that night, he carefully cracked the door open to find Caius sitting at the small table, watching something. Hallam thought it was the hearth but as he pushed the door open fully, Caius turned to look at him, put a finger over his lips for silence, and pointed to the bed.

  He’d been watching the lady sleep.

  Hallam was quiet when he entered the chamber, but he held up the blanket and hammer that Caius had requested for the shutters. The winds were still howling and the shutters were still flexing, so with the greatest stealth, Caius and Hallam proceeded to cover the shutters with the blanket and nail them right into the wood to keep them secure, all the while believing the very next hammer blow would awaken the exhausted lady.

  But Emelisse slept right through it all.

  She slept all night as her jailers made her more comfortable.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Her head was killing her.

  Emelisse awoke the next morning to a pounding inside her skull, knowing immediately that it was because she’d had too much to drink. She didn’t usually drink wine at all if she could help it, or if she did, she ingested very little of it because it made her head hurt. Her preferred drink was boiled apple juice or boiled water flavored with berries or even rose petals.

  Wine simply didn’t sit well with her.

  But the knight with the black eyes had forced it down her throat. She’d ingested a good deal, plus more besides when she ate her meal. Truth be told, yesterday had passed in a blur – a blur of horror, of pain, of upheaval. But one thing had remained constant.
r />   Sir Caius d’Avignon.

  She’d fought him, bellowed at him, told him she hated him, and tried to hurt him. She’d been all shades of terrible to him. But he’d been calm and rational, and even soothing at times. Through all of her panic and wild behavior, she realized that the man was trying to help her. After all of the terrible things she’d done, he was the last thing she saw before she drifted off to sleep.

  It was unimaginable comfort.

  But he was gone now and she was alone. Rolling over, she groaned as she sat up, looking around the chamber and seeing that someone had already been there to stoke the fire and bring her a meal. The little room was surprisingly warm and she noticed the woolen blankets hammered over the shutters of the windows. She stared at them, trying to remember when those were put up. She honestly couldn’t recall.

  Through the cobwebs of sleep, the blur of events the day before began to fall into place. Her first thought was of her father and tears sprang to her eyes at the last memory she had of him. She fought the tears, however, and the sadness. There would be time to grieve her father, but now was not the time. She was in a bind of her own and she knew her father would want her to think of herself, to take care of herself. She hadn’t done a very good job of it yesterday, unfortunately.

  But she wasn’t alone.

  Thoughts of Caius swung back on her, stronger than before. He wasn’t the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, but he had a certain quality that made all women sit up and take notice. Something that made him so unconventionally alluring. His coloring was striking; black hair and eyes, but a pale English complexion underneath the stubble of a black beard. And he was big; enormously big and taller than any man she’d ever seen. The man was a giant. He’d spoken to her calmly, he’d been honest and forthright with her, and she’d acted like a madwoman. When he’d told her about Marius, she’d tried to kill herself.

  In hindsight, it had been foolish.

  Oh, she’d meant it at the time. She was fully prepared to throw herself from the window, out into the snowy night, and hoped she broke her neck in the fall. The day had taken its toll on her in that sense.