By Right of Arms

by Robyn Carr

  His jaw tensed and his blue eyes glittered. The hand that was wrapped around the shovel tightened, causing his muscles to stand taut. “I have a position, my lady.”

  Faon leaned against the stable wall, oblivious to the contradicting pose she created in the street. She was the only woman dressed in finery, the only one not carrying something or rushing to do some chore. But she was enjoying this young man, whom she judged to be in his mid-twenties. “Surely this does not suit you. You were telling me how you view this new lord.”

  Verel’s eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at her more boldly. “Until this morning, my lady, I regarded him as the devil, landed with his black angels. But I had not seen you.”

  She threw back her head with a lusty laugh, her green eyes twinkling in delight. “You are a brazen lout, speaking to me in such a manner. How do you know I won’t have you flogged for insolence?”

  “I trust you would not detain me for so long, if you meant only harm. Tell me, my lady, how do you see the new lord? You must have traveled here with his people.”

  “I did. He is a good leader of men, but if he has overlooked your talents, he is not a good judge of strength. ’Tis obvious you are strong and able.”

  Verel looked at her closely, his eyes dipping to her swelling bosom and narrow waist. “I am able,” he said softly.

  “Are you chained at night?” she whispered.

  “Nay, but I share a stable tackroom with seven other serfs; all were knights once.”

  “Are you guarded?”

  He smiled. “Nay. The gate and wall are kept tight and we have no weapons.”

  She gave her head a toss. “Mayhap I will wander to the stable when the moon is set …”

  He lightly grasped her elbow. “If you tell me when you will come, I will wait for you beneath the loft. These men who were de Pourvre’s know how to look the other way.”

  “Do you seduce me?”

  Verel chuckled. “I thought ’twas much the other way around. But if it pleases you, yea, I beg your favors.”

  “Then …” Her voice trailed off as she noticed that Verel’s gaze was drawn away from her. She turned to see where he looked, for his blue eyes had clouded with anger and pain. Aurélie was backing out of a peasant’s hut, a basket hanging from her arm. She seemed to be consoling the woman there, or giving instruction. She did not look about the streets, but was much engrossed in some mission.

  Faon felt a moment of indecision and confusion. Aurélie’s gown was less fine than her own. In fact, the lady’s habit was conservative, roughly sewn of brownish wool. Her wimple covered her hair and the hem of her apron was frayed. It was typical that Aurélie did not adorn herself much, except on those rare occasions when she attempted to beautify herself for the evening meal or for mass on the Sabbath. Yet frequently the knights looked longingly in her direction. Faon thought her looks plain and ordinary, although when Aurélie wore finery and let her hair fall freely down her back, she was comely, but in a quiet way. What was her allure? Faon wondered.

  She looked back at Verel. The handsome young man’s eyes were misty with passion. But the object of his desire did not expose her bosom, swing her hips, or let her hair trail seductively down her back. She seemed to have captured men by some other means, unknown to Faon.

  Aurélie departed from the hut and began a hurried step toward the hall. She paused when she saw Faon and Verel in discussion. “Why, Mistress Faon, have you come to help tend our injured?” Faon wrinkled her nose in distaste and looked away. “I thought not. Forsooth, your beautiful gown would be damaged.”

  Aurélie laughed lightly and continued on, Verel’s eyes following her with pained attention. Not a dozen steps were taken by the lady of the hall when a fully costumed knight of Hyatt’s colors approached her, bowed and begged the chance to carry her basket as he escorted her to the hall. Aurélie willingly turned over her burden, gave a brief smile and nod, and walked with the young, besotted knight toward the inner bailey. She was out of sight before Verel could pull his eyes away from her departing form.

  “You betray your lust for her,” Faon said angrily.

  “Lust?” he laughed. “ ’Twould be an ill-fitted shoe, should I lust after the Englishman’s woman. I do not seek death so eagerly as that.”

  “What makes you think he values her?”

  “Only a fool would not, madame. And in addition, I see that she places high value on her husband, even if she tries to spare us all the agony of her final betrayal.”

  “What say you? She fears him, from all I can see.”

  Verel chuckled ruefully. “So I thought, but as the peasants approached with the injured bearing Hyatt’s blazon, the lady fair tore asunder two guards to see who came. It was clear that she feared ’twas Hyatt who was hurt. Do you want to see how a woman cares for a man? Tell her that he is injured and you will know.”

  “Bitch …” Faon muttered, looking down at the dirt.

  “What ho! Do you perchance trouble yourself to be jealous of Lady Aurélie? Perhaps you had your sights set on the Englishman. I will tell you something, madame, to save you much misery. It is said that Hyatt does not do anything against his desires; he wed the lady. I know her well, and if he does not see the prize that he holds, he is a fool. I hate him truly, but I suspect he is wise, or we would not have fallen so easily.”

  “You have been watching her?”

  “When I can.” He shrugged.

  “Do you think she comes to love him?”

  “If she does not, she may in time. Women often look the way of the man with the most power, and there is little question of Hyatt’s dominion here. And I know something of the woman. She is steadfast, whether the man is deserving or not. It was her way with our Sire de Pourvre, even though he certainly did not deserve her. There is naught I can do now. I should have taken her when I could.”

  “When you could?”

  “Aye. While the Sire de Pourvre paid me as the captain of his half-troop, there was talk that the woman suffered as his wife. He did not put much stock in women; he was more keen to young boys and priests. A sweet word in her ear might have turned her away from her spouse. The Sire de Pourvre promised the castle and towns to me, since there was no heir.”

  Faon smiled, but it was an evil gleam in her eye. “Would you get away from here if you could?”

  “Do you lay some trap for me?”

  “Oh nay, I would not harm you. But mayhap help you.”

  “Then I tell you true, if I could find some French force to reclaim this place, I would do to Hyatt what he did to the Sire de Pourvre. I would take the castle, make her a widow, and reclaim it all.”

  “But if you already had her?”

  “Then, madame, this place would mean little to me.”

  Faon lowered her lids seductively. She ran a hand along Verel’s arm, taking no notice of how passersby would look. The beaten people of De la Noye were very cautious with the way they stared at her.

  “I think perhaps we will be friends, Verel. We will talk again.”

  “You take a grave chance in talking to me, lady. I am the one they watch most closely.”

  “I do not worry, Verel. I don’t plan to talk to you in the light of day again. But the loft; now there is a place for whispering.”

  He looked into her eyes and his own came alive with mischief. He made a sweeping bow, like a well-trained courtier. “I am at your service, my lady.”

  * * *

  The smoke from the Château Innesse could be seen darkening the sky from twenty leagues away. The keep was so named because the moat that surrounded the front of the enclosure was wider than the widest river. A full bridge rather than short drawbridge was built for entrance, and the rear of the wall and keep was built into the side of the hill. An approaching army could be seen on all sides from the highest citadel. At first sight Hyatt was struck by its magnificence, for it was easily twice the size of De la Noye. And his heart was somewhat saddened, for he believed the conquest had been succ
essful days before, yet still she burned.

  The stench worsened as Hyatt’s troop neared. It was the flesh of the beaten that burned and filled the air. The outer wall was not battered, but within the outer bailey were the charred remains of wooden houses, wagons, sheds, and people.

  Hyatt’s bearer carried the banner of Edward, and they were admitted. A pitiful number of captives were chained or tied throughout the streets and pathways to the keep. Doors were torn apart and the stain of blood was everywhere. Armored knights clamored through the keep and stood watch on the wall. A woman lay in the ashes before what was once a house and wept. Her clothing was torn to shreds, and dried blood stained her forehead and hands. Only stone buildings still stood, but the roofs were burned.

  The troop dismounted before the central hall and tethered their horses. All the men looked around, frowning, grimacing. Hyatt went directly through the doors into the hall to meet the captor.

  “What ho! A knight of English blood.”

  Sir Hollis Marsden sat on a jeweled throne on a dais that must have once belonged to the lord of this estate. On the floor beside him was a woman, her dress torn completely open, her ankle shackled to the leg of the chair.

  Hollis tipped a horn to his mouth while the other hand lazily held a whip. His jowls were sagging with plenty, his gut round and full, and one leg was outstretched before him in lazy indifference.

  “You seem to have quelled the place, Sir Hollis,” Hyatt said, looking around at the rubble in disgust. “You have little need of my assistance.”

  Hollis threw back his head and laughed. “As if that’s why you’ve come. Give the man drink,” he shouted. “Aye, give my enemy drink, for we will never drink together again, God knows!”

  Hyatt smiled lazily and stepped into the room. A few of his men began filtering into the hall behind him, while others stayed without to keep watch. A young boy rushed toward Hyatt with a filled mug and, as he accepted the drink, he looked at the youth. The lad wore Hollis’s colors and was likely a servant or page, yet his face was swollen from a beating. Hollis did not even place much value on his own people. Hollis did not rise, but cracked his whip lazily into the rushes on the floor.

  “Did you let anyone live?” Hyatt asked.

  “The useful ones,” Hollis replied. He glanced at the tattered woman on the floor.

  “Who is she?”

  “She was daughter by marriage to the old lord’s son. But he is dead. She is a widow now.” Hollis began to laugh wickedly. “She had some high-flown ways … but no more.”

  Hyatt tried not to look at the woman. Her dirty blond hair was matted and covered much of her face. A bruise marked her cheek and her clothing was in unsubstantial shreds that might once have been a gown of quality. Dark, swollen marks dotted her exposed calves. Her feet were bare.

  Inside, Hyatt began to seethe. He did not understand why anyone would take something of beauty and destroy it. The castle, the woman, the land, all ruined by Hollis’s greedy hand. But he did understand that Hollis would do the same to him in a moment.

  And the woman chained at the knight’s feet could be Aurélie.

  “Do you require anything of me?” Hyatt asked. “Some French adversary that may threaten from nearby?”

  “Nay, we circled the area before I took Innesse. There is no one to attack us.”

  “How did you get in?”

  “There was no trouble getting inside, once the entire keep was surrounded. I have two hundred and fifty now. One hundred are archers. The sky was black with arrows.”

  “I have long wondered how you could afford such a large troop.”

  “It is easily done.”

  “It must have been a harrowing fight.” Hyatt smirked, looking around. There was little doubt that the place had surrendered and been destroyed.

  “Three days and nights. But I lost only a few men. Ours are better, that is all. The word is that you have taken a castle south of here on behalf of the prince. True?”

  Hyatt nodded. “But to your credit, Hollis, you did a great deal more fighting than I. We were engaged in only a skirmish. The castle surrendered.” Hyatt shrugged. “Of course, not a door latch was broken and the people already work the fields.”

  Hollis began to glower, his cheeks pinkening. Little could be raised out of his plunder to make Innesse a decent place to live. It was as if he had only just realized his mistake in razing the place with Hyatt’s mention of it. “What is the word from Edward?”

  “There is no word as yet. He ordered me to secure De la Noye and look to your needs. Since you need nothing, we will depart.”

  “Not a meal? Won’t you stay and share the spoils?”

  “Spoils. Indeed.”

  Hollis frowned blackly. “Do you insult me? You are captive within my walls, Hyatt. Do you think it wise to be impolite?”

  “I left a good army at De la Noye. They have my letters ready for the prince in Bordeaux. I will not dally with you, Hollis. If you kill me now, it will be murder, and Prince Edward will be told of it. He has two thousand. I will not waste my good men on you, even after death.” He raised a brow. “I swear the king told me you gave your word to fight only England’s battles until this demesne is settled for the prince.”

  Hollis glowered at Hyatt. “It is nearly settled.” He cracked his whip once. “We will meet again. Soon.”

  Hyatt bowed. “I never doubted it.” He turned and walked out of the hall. His men separated to let him pass and in the courtyard they mounted their steeds.

  When they had cleared the bridge and were well on the road away, a young knight urged his horse beside Hyatt’s. “I heard, Sir Hyatt, that Hollis means to attack you.”

  “Aye. Give the word to the men in the rear. Hollis will send out a troop immediately. We will go south until out of sight of the Innesse wall and then circle northeast. And there will be no fire for several nights. Until we are within sight of De la Noye, we will be the friends of the wolves in the forest.”

  “Is there no way to form a pact with Hollis? A peace pact?”

  Hyatt laughed. “Did you not hear? There was a pact, issued by the king. We are ordered not to attempt to settle our dispute until these lands are secured for England.”

  “Sir Hyatt, why does he hate you?”

  “Surely you’ve heard. I know my men are careful not to gossip within my hearing, but they talk.”

  “A contest of arms, I was told. Hollis lost.”

  “There was a tournament after the fall of Calais. It was witnessed by the king and his family in Ghent. Hollis was losing in the joust and when I turned to accept the token from the king, he attacked my back. Hollis not only lost all his gear and was ransomed for a goodly sum, but was disgraced. King Edward revoked his earlier promise to award the knight with admittance to the Order of the Garter. Hollis has sworn to kill me ever since.”

  The knight whistled. “Since that … how has he managed to secure the arms he has?”

  “He has managed to get money from rich nobles, and I imagine he steals, kidnaps, and ransoms hostages. When a man is as determined as Hollis, there is nothing to stop him.” He turned his head and smiled at the young knight. “Except, perhaps, me.”

  There was confusion in the young man’s eyes. “But why don’t you meet his troop, then? Even if they triple us in number, not one would live out the day.”

  “Because, lad, Hollis would have the advantage. His men are roiled up to kill and they would attack us by surprise. ’Tis Hollis’s way and perhaps the way he has taught his men. Why allow any advantage to the wily fox?”

  “You are certain he would come from the rear?”

  “Aye. Under cover of dark, I suppose. Or from a forest or overgrowth. What did you notice about Innesse?

  “It was destroyed. Completely destroyed. Hollis must have kept battering the place and the people long after the battle was won.”

  “Yea, and the charred wreckage was within the outer wall. There was not so much as the bruise of a battering ram
on the gate.”

  There was a long silence as the wide-eyed youth absorbed this. Then, breathlessly, “They let him in.”

  “Or … he crept in somehow. Got their surrender, or crept past a night guard, or tricked them.” Hyatt smiled. “You see, there is something else you must know about Hollis. Whatever values the leader boasts will often become the principle of the whole troop. Hollis is fierce, strong, ruthless, has no conscience, and is well oiled with the money to buy men and arms. But the most dangerous of his traits is this—he is a coward. And cowards use sneaky ways to fight, then lie about their methods.” Hyatt paused and looked closely at the young man beside him. They had only ridden together since Hyatt selected his troop in England, less than a year ago, but the young man was good. And he was learning. The serious look in his eyes made Hyatt feel a little more secure. “Go alert the men at the rear of our party what to look for. Some of these men know Hollis, some do not. It is up to you to pass the word.”

  “Aye, Sir Hyatt,” the youth said, whirling about on his steed to fall back in the ranks.

  Chapter Nine

  There was no sounding from the donjon when a lone messenger arrived in late June, a fortnight behind Percival’s group. Aurélie happened to be in the town and heard the large, squeaking levers of the wheels turning to lower the bridge and open the gates. She stood back to see who came, since it was not time for the farmers to return, or their spouses to take them food in the fields. A lone rider, a sunburned lad in a well-worn livery, came across the bridge and into the bailey, giving a wave to those acquaintances among Hyatt’s forces whom he knew. His teeth gleamed white against his rosy skin and he had already removed his helm as he entered. She recognized him at once to be one of those who had accompanied Hyatt on his campaign.

  He dismounted when he saw her and left his destrier to a fleet-footed page, who took the beast into the stable. He approached her and bowed. “My lady, I was sent ahead to bring word of your lord husband’s return. In two days, perhaps three, he will arrive with the others.”

  “Does he send some special instructions for me, in preparation for his return?”