by Robyn Carr
“Nay, only that you be informed. And he did say that he hopes to find you well.”
A half-smile appeared on her lips. “The courtesy was unexpected,” she said, trying to explain away the sudden flush that came to her cheeks. “I shall see that extra game is set to roast for a hungry troop.”
“He would be appreciative, my lady. The work has been hard on this ride.”
“Oh? Were there many French to quell?” she asked hesitantly.
“None at all. The countryside is quiet. But did you not know he rode to see what Sir Hollis had done?”
“Who is Sir Hollis? I heard nothing of Hyatt’s plans.”
“Hollis Marsden is his enemy, my lady. They were both called to arms for Edward in this campaign, but when left to their own ends, the challenges between them are many. Sir Hollis is a friend to Sir Hyatt’s brother, Sir Ryland.”
Her eyes rounded with question. “Brother? Ryland?”
The sunburned face brightened more as he blushed. The young man shuffled his feet slightly. “I would be in your debt if you made no mention that I …” He straightened. “ ’Tis only gossip among the men, my lady. And I have only lately learned of this rivalry between Sir Hollis and Sir Hyatt. Sir Hyatt does not speak of family, but insists he has none.”
“I see. Do you know the reason for this?”
“It would be considered a breach of conduct for me to speak of rumors I heard, lady. Please forgive me.”
“But was he in grave danger?”
The lad sighed. “We did not rest easy in Hollis’s keep, and we spent many days evading Hollis’s troop. But I understand now that Sir Hyatt was correct; we are safer to see what Hollis does than to sit idle here and suffer some bad surprise. Hollis would not be above attacking one of his own and reporting to the king that it was a French battle in which so many English were killed.”
Aurélie shivered slightly, hearing something that had never occurred to her. “And Hollis’s keep? Surely it is one that was French …”
“The Château Innesse south of Limoges. Do you know the place?”
“I have visited the castle twice in my lifetime; a more beautiful place does not exist.” She noticed a sudden sadness in the young man’s eyes. “Was the quest of your English knight hard on the people?” she asked with almost fearful reluctance.
“Sir Hollis is not a tender heart, my lady.” He swallowed. “Leave it to say that it is better we know how he fights, and you may thank whatever divinity you worship that ’twas Hyatt, and not the other, who took De la Noye.”
“It has been said that Hyatt was intent on De la Noye before leaving England.”
“Aye, this place and others like it were once firmly held by the Duchy of Aquitaine; the plans were made well in advance. In kind, Hollis was aware of Château Innesse.”
“Then why did Hyatt not push his forces to Innesse?”
The knight smiled. “Hollis’s troop triples ours in size, and Hyatt kept secret his intentions toward De la Noye. In fact—” he grinned “—Hyatt did not tell any of us where we were bound until we were nearly here. If you’ll forgive me, my lady, it has been said that your suffering was a good deal more than planned. Sir Giles was to be released and pensioned after a short imprisonment.”
Her head snapped suddenly in attention. It was not the first time that there had been mention that pardons were the order of the battle rather than death, but she and Giles had always been mentioned together, as a pair. This young man specifically referred to only Giles. “And … I?”
“I … ah … that is …”
“What had you heard was to be done with me?” she asked.
“ ’Tis only gossip, my lady, and …” Aurélie gave a sharp, insistent nod of her head to show that she was not willing to excuse this bit of gossip. “An old Flemish lord saw Sir Hyatt in Bordeaux after our troop landed. It is said that the marriage was arranged and De la Noye spoken for before we began our advance. But I think a divorce or annulment was planned.”
“How did anyone imagine that Giles, held prisoner or freed, would agree to such a thing?”
His eyes held a glimmer that Aurélie thought resembled pity. “By way of retirement and pension to a monastery, my lady. A rich monastery.”
She looked away from the young man, her eyes misting slightly. Giles need not have died. He would have gladly traded her and his home for a life of misery and want among monks.
“Had he known … and yet, he was killed. Poor Giles.”
“Killed? My lady, he—” The man stopped himself and stiffened his lips. “I say too much, my lady, if you tell Sir Hyatt that I …”
The young man was so discomfited by his loose tongue that Aurélie deemed it wise to reassure him. “I will say nothing to Sir Hyatt. You must be hungry after your long ride. The evening meal is nearly ready if you wish to eat in the hall.”
“Thank you, my lady.” He started away and then turned back. “Oh, and Sir Hyatt did say he was eager to be home.”
She smiled, though her lips trembled, and turned away to finish her errand. She collected a basketful of eggs for the next day from a peasant woman who owned six laying hens and was en route to the hall when she heard her name being called. She looked this way and that, failing to see who called to her, until she finally noticed Verel lurking behind a grain barrel at the side of the stable. “Aurélie! Here!”
She approached him warily, suspicious because of his sneaky manner. When she got near enough, he pulled her inside the dark stable and along to a stall in which bridles and saddles were stored for the knights.
“What is it, Verel? What’s the matter?”
“My lady,” he breathed. “Nothing is wrong; all is right. I have found a means of getting away from here. I can take you with me.”
“You are mad.”
“Nay! You, of all people, know that I cannot stay and abide this demesne held by an English warlord. Nor can I abide his possession of you. You deserve better than this …”
In spite of herself, Aurélie burst into laughter. Here stood a ragged young man who smelled of horse dung, driven by nothing more than some farfetched vision of glory, enticing her to flee.
“Oh, Verel, forgive me … but the numbers of people who know how much I deserve seem to increase, yet my lot worsens with each good intention. Now, do you think I deserve to flee with you, to battle my way through the forests and marshes and …”
“I have a horse,” he said defensively, straightening proudly. “And a shield, sword, and crossbow. I may leave without armor, but I can take you safely to Avignon, or farther. And we can secure a troop to bring De la Noye to her knees.”
Her laughter fled instantly, noting that he was deadly serious. “How have you come by a horse and arms?”
“Oh, nay, my lady, I cannot tell you who helps me. But I can save you from the brute before he returns.”
“He will hunt you down, Verel. Do not do this.”
He grasped her suddenly by the upper arms and forcefully claimed her lips with his. The basket swung on her arm, spilling the eggs. His breath was desperately labored; his arms released hers only to go around her waist and pull her more violently against him. Verel’s peasant hose and light linen shirt were little protection against desires that Aurélie could feel raging forth. Her innocence was fast disappearing; she knew he would take her away not for the sake of France and De la Noye, but because of his own lust.
“Let go of me,” she demanded.
“I love you. Aurélie, I swear I do.” His lips were hot and moist on her neck and she pushed him.
“My God, even he wed me before he tried to bed me.”
He released her abruptly. “Aurélie, Aurélie, I have wanted you since I first saw you, so many years ago. I would have spirited you away long ago, had I believed you would go … but it was easier to serve Giles and be near to you, knowing that Giles valued me and that he would not last long.”
“What do you mean?”
“Giles was destined to d
ie in the first battle he fought. He knew nothing of fighting; he could not even protect himself. I stayed here all the while for you. I did not wish to serve de Pourvre as much as I wished to be here when he was gone, to rule this place as it should be ruled.”
“I thought you were his most loyal. Verel?”
“I was! God above, I worked harder for him than anyone. But it was for you that I was fighting. I have always loved you. And I have always loved De la Noye. Can’t you see that? I have wanted strength and order for this place … as it was in the old days, with the old Sire, so it is said.”
“As it is now,” she said softly.
“Nay,” he said, shaking his head as if hurt. “You cannot cast your lot with the English bastard.”
“He is my husband. He is the lord of this place now.”
“Aurélie? Have you given up?”
“Given up?” She laughed again, but it was a bitter sound. “I have never seen the place better than it is now, only two short months after he has come. Even under the old Sire there was not such order. For once the priest does not run the town and is properly placed at prayers rather than counting his money. There is more broken ground for crops than ever before and while my villeins wear sour faces, they are plump with his food. Given up? Are you truly such a fool?”
“But you cannot abide his presence in your bed? In Giles’s place?”
“Giles never used that place,” she said hastily and angrily, wishing immediately that she could withdraw the statement after it was issued. Instead, she rambled on, hoping he would forget. “If you do not see what has happened, there is nothing I can do to change your mind about it. So you carry a hoe or shovel rather than a lance, but it comes to me that Hyatt is not the fool to ignore good fighting skills, and if you would but show your talents and that you could be trusted, he would use you better than Giles did. If you try to flee or plot against him, he is within his rights to slay you. It would be a pitiful waste, Verel. You are too good to die.”
“You return none of my affection, do you?”
She bit her lip in indecision. It was in her mind to tell him that had he pleaded his case of passion before, when she hungered for love, for a touch, she was not certain that she would have had the strength of conviction to deny him. But now his admission did not tempt her.
“Would you have some useless prattle of love and longing and make me witness to the rivers of blood that would spurt from your neck? I would be forced to pass daily the place where your head would ride a pike on the wall. Nay, I return none of your affection and I bid you remember ’tis for your own good.”
“You no longer mourn your husband?”
“Mourn him? He rides toward De la Noye now and will arrive anon! My husband, Verel, is Sir Hyatt. It is written in the vows of the Church, of property, and of my body as well. There is no one in all Christendom who will argue that he has wed me, albeit by right of arms. Do you know the penalty of an adulterous wife? The peasant’s woman may be tied in the courtyard or stoned. The lord’s wife is guilty of high treason. If I loved death so well, I’d have taken my life by my own hand. To speak of love is to speak of death. Nay, I return none of your affection.”
“You love him.”
“I speak naught of love. I speak of reason and life. Your choices are as simple as mine, if you will but see them. No French force will travel here; Hyatt has sent the marriage papers to both kings—De la Noye is a married estate, no matter the victor in war. If you flee, you will either be hunted down and killed, or spared only to starve along the road as you search for a sympathetic army. Do not be a fool. Hyatt has use for good men; you could prove yourself to—”
She was cut short as Verel spat in the dust. “I will never seek to win favor from the bastard. I would rather die first.”
She backed away from him, conscious for the first time of the few eggs that had spilled from her basket and lay crushed on the stable floor beneath her feet. “And so you shall, Verel. I’m sorry I cannot help you.”
“Will you betray me?”
“Nay. ’Twould only serve to quicken your death. I think perhaps it is better if you go. You will not return.”
She turned to leave the stable, noticing that the sun was sinking as she reached the door.
“My lady,” he called, “if I do return, for whom will you fight?”
“As I always have, Sir Verel. For De la Noye and the man who owns her.”
* * *
The noise in the common room was louder than usual. There seemed a great deal of laughter and jesting and at first Aurélie thought that it was because word had been delivered of Hyatt’s return. She passed what remained of the collected eggs to a servant, listening closely to the men. She soon realized that it was another matter that caused such riotous glee from the knights.
“Had she but ridden a bit farther into the copse, she might have worn the horse into exhaustion and been forced to ride him all the way to Brittany.”
“Or better still, straight into Hyatt’s camp … in which case her privy arse would’ve been injured by other than a fall.”
“I only lament that she didn’t break her bloody neck. ’Twould make for less bickering among the women.”
Aurélie listened to the laughter, slowly approaching Girvin. He occupied a stool near the spitted fowl on the hearth and pounded dents out of his shield.
“What amusement so pleases these men?” she asked him.
“Faon,” he grumbled. “She took a good stallion to mount, like the hellion she is, without permission or escort.” He shrugged. “The beast threw her and left her to limp home alone.”
“You do not share their jesting.”
Girvin looked up at her, his eyes narrowed to slits. “It was a good horse,” he said slowly, with much irritation in his voice.
“You truly hate her, don’t you, Sir Girvin?” she asked.
Girvin looked directly into her eyes, a thing he rarely did. “There are women, madame, who are stupid enough to think that to disable their man will give them power. Faon is one of them. No act is too low. She is the fool to cut off Hyatt’s arms to have his dependence on her, and then bemoan the fact that he can no longer embrace her.”
“You are partly wrong about Faon. She wants Hyatt. She loves him.”
Girvin grunted. “If so, she portrays her love in ignorance. I know nothing of women’s love, nor do I wish to know more. But I have seen the likes of Faon before, under many a swinging skirt.”
“Aye,” Aurélie said. “You need not fear for Hyatt. He is more than aware of women’s shortcomings.”
Girvin looked at her long and hard. “I hope so, madame.”
“Sir Girvin, I …” Aurélie stopped herself. “Never mind. You guard him well, from men and women alike, and he is the better for it. I will not try to convince you that I am any better than Mistress Faon.”
She rose to leave him and heard his voice come softly from behind. “You need not.” She wondered only briefly what was meant, before dismissing his words from her mind.
Aurélie listened to the banter, Faon absent because of her injuries, and realized very quickly what had happened. She suspected she was alone in knowing the truth, but wondered how many had seen Faon talking with Verel on that afternoon a fortnight past.
When the meal was done and Aurélie went upstairs, she paused before her door and then, upon further consideration, walked down the long, dark gallery toward the rooms allotted to Faon. She did not knock, but the portal was not latched. She pushed the door open very slowly and Faon, whose posterior was not too bruised to sit on a hard stool, turned in surprise.
“When does he go?” Aurélie asked simply.
“Who?” Faon asked with a toss of her curls.
“You know who I mean. I do not go with him, mistress. But if it is not too late, perhaps you should. I don’t think Hyatt would search for you.”
Faon shot to her feet, staring at Aurélie with icy daggers in her eyes.
“I know what you
have done.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Faon insisted, lifting her chin.
“I could go to Girvin now. He would relish a chance to throw up your skirts and see for himself how worn are your poor hips.”
Faon stiffened and her mouth curled in a sneer. “Then go, bitch. I shall show that black devil my rosy butt and let him kill your young knight. We both know what will happen; Girvin may wish me dead, but he wouldn’t dare harm me.”
Aurélie slowly smiled. “I think I shall let it be. Verel can get to safety better without you, and I wish him no harm. Given enough time, you will slay yourself. You are too foolish to last long.”
“Do you think to betray me to Hyatt? Hah! Do not try it or you will find that Hyatt does not—”
Aurélie slowly shook her head. “Does not trust women? I pitied him for that once, but I see now the reason and think him wise to distrust women. Nay, I will not betray you. You will betray yourself soon enough.”
She turned away and closed the door, standing there for a moment. A chill in the corridor caused the hairs at the back of her neck to prickle in uneasiness. Faon did not follow to challenge her and she shrugged off the strange feeling. She walked back down the gallery toward her chamber. The hall turned and as she came around the corner she gasped in sudden fright as she came up against Girvin’s solid chest. “Oh, Girvin, you frightened me half to death.”
“Is aught amiss, madame?” he asked evenly.
“All is well, Girvin. I only wanted to assure myself that Mistress Faon did not need anything for her injuries.”
“And how does she?”
“She is remarkably well, for someone who suffered a nasty fall.”
“Do you suggest that I look in on her myself? Hyatt did ask me to watch her.”
Aurélie laid a hand on his forearm. “Perhaps you should, Girvin,” she said, smiling slyly. “If you leave her to her own ends, she may get herself in a good deal more trouble. She may even flee.”
Girvin smiled down at Aurélie and then whirled about, presenting his back to walk down the stairs, making it quite clear that he could look the other way should Faon decide to leave De la Noye. Aurélie had no doubt that Girvin would watch, as he always did, to be assured that Hyatt’s son was not taken away. She could not resist the urge to chuckle, though she kept her voice quiet. “Good eventide, Sir Girvin,” she said softly. But the hulking knight did not turn or answer.
