Authors: Shari Anton
With goblets filled, Corwin said, “I imagine William sent you a report on how this whole thing got started.”
“I have also heard from others. William said the last he saw you, you were riding west and had planned to return to Romsey Abbey before nightfall. I have also heard from the sheriff of Hampshire, who feared you might have fallen victim to Judith’s kidnappers because you did not return to Romsey as you told him you would do.”
Corwin recognized the signs of an upcoming lecture, but didn’t dodge it, wanting to hear what Gerard knew.
Gerard rummaged among the parchments on his table and came up with what he looked for. “Three days ago, this arrived. ‘Tis a request for payment for a mare you borrowed but did not return. She must be coated in gold for the price de Saville asks.” He tossed the paper aside, his ire rising. “It badly upset Ardith on a day she did not need upset. She had been able to brush aside the sheriffs concerns about you until this came.”
Corwin voiced his sudden insight. “That is why I felt her pain so acutely. Her thoughts must have been focused on me.”
“I hope it hurt.”
“Oh, it did. She caught me in the midst of a sword fight. Imagine being hit in the gut with a plank while blocking a downstroke.”
Gerard winced, then asked, “Where were you?”
“Norgate. We were making our escape when-”
“What the devil were you doing clear up there?”
Corwin smiled. “Saving England.”
Gerard picked up his goblet and dipped it in the bucket. “I think you had best start from the beginning.”
Corwin picked up the story where William had left off, telling Gerard of finding Judith’s kidnappers, learning of. the rebellion and deciding on a plan of action.
The story poured out as the ale went down. Gerard sat back in his chair, listening, asking few questions, looking over the papers Corwin gave him. Soon Corwin found himself back in the stable, facing Duncan.
“Oswuld was waiting for us to get the horses. Judith ran toward her mare and Duncan popped out of a stall with his sword drawn. I no more than drew mine when I felt Ardith.”
Corwin checked the ale bucket. Empty.
“You managed to overcome Duncan, I gather.”
“Nay. I managed to hold him at bay until Judith rescued
me.
She backed my destrier out of his stall and I used his training against Duncan. Woman could have gotten herself killed.”
“You could have all died.”
“But we did not. We need more ale.”
Gerard tossed Ruford’s papers on the table. “You need food, then sleep. I will send a fast messenger to London, to tell Matilda her niece is here, and inform Henry that I send knights and foot soldiers to Norgate. If the rebels have not all fled, mayhap we can catch a few, especially this Ruford Clark.”
“The king is back from Normandy?”
“He is.” Gerard smiled. “You will be happy to learn he intends to bestow a handsome reward on whoever returns Judith safely to his care. It seems Alexander of Scotland has been hard on Henry’s nerves over an apparent lack of protection for a certain Canmore heiress. When these two kings find out that you have also saved England from a rebellion and Scotland from a good deal of embarrassment, I imagine the reward will grow larger. I do believe you are about to become a rich man, Corwin.”
Corwin rose from his chair and tossed his goblet into the empty bucket. “I do not want their reward.”
“Now I know you have had too much ale.”
Corwin shook his head. “They can keep their coin or land. I want none of it.”
“Corwin, that is…witless.”
Corwin picked up the list of lords’ names, scanned them, wishing he’d had but one more day at Norgate. “Nay, ‘tis simply a matter of refusing one reward for another. You are right. Henry is spared a war for his crown. If Alexander
had imprisoned Ruford instead of banishing him, the rebellion would not have had a ready Saxon noble to rally around. Both neglected to protect Judith. I can give the kings names, not only of Ruford Clark, but his captains. I wish I knew if these lords supported the rebellion or were intended victims, but mayhap that is for Henry and Alexander to ponder. Either way, I
do
deserve a reward, a hefty one.”
“You have a reward in mind. What?”
“Judith Canmore.”
Gerard’s initial surprise faded to disbelief, then to deep thought. Corwin silently watched his overlord’s reactions, sure only of that, in the end, he could trust Gerard.
Gerard rose from his chair. “Corwin, Judith Canmore is-”
“Mine. She is mine, if she will have me.”
“-an heiress. A Canmore. Her royal heritage runs thick in her blood.”
“And I love her despite it. Gerard, as you love Ardith, so I love Judith. As you once risked all-Wilmont, your very life-for my sister, so I am prepared to do for Judith.”
Gerard lowered his head, then raised it again. “The difference being that I risked all from a position of power. I hate to say this, Corwin, but you are not a Norman baron with the power to risk the king’s wrath and come out unscathed.”
Corwin smiled. “No, I am not. Which is why I am very grateful that my brother-by-marriage is a Norman baron who can help me figure out how to get what I want. I also have another Norman brother-by-marriage who is a valued advisor of the king’s. What good are the two of you if you cannot help me on occasion?”
That gave Gerard pause, but he recovered quickly, and
with a wry smile. “Now I need an ale. What makes you think Judith will accept your suit?”
She loves me.
“She loves me, she says. We have done far more these past three nights than sleep.”
“Oh, that complicates matters nicely.” Gerard came around the table and laid a hand on Corwin’s shoulder. “Corwin, be very sure it is love Judith feels and not gratitude or mere lust. If we embark on this venture, not only will your resolve be tested severely, hers will be as well. I can assure you, Henry will not give her over easily. Now, what say we see how our women fare?”
Side by side they took the stairway down into the hall. At the bottom, Gerard called out to his steward. “Walter, I need our swiftest messenger and the captain of my guard. Now.”
Corwin turned toward the hearth. Two of his sisters sat there. Bronwyn, who’d come to aid Ardith during the birthing, and whose Norman husband, Kester, could be trusted for help. And Ardith, who held her firstborn, Everart, a lad of three years. At her feet a child of six, Daymon, Gerard’s illegitimate son, sprawled on his belly, his chin in his hands. Gerard’s mother, Ursula, worked a spindle.
All looked entranced at Judith, who was obviously.telling some story-and cradling a baby in her arms.
The sight hit him square in the heart. This was what he wanted. Judith as his wife, a child or two or ten. A family. Was it possible Judith could already be with child?
The longer he looked at her, holding Ardith’s child, the more he hoped the deed done. He walked toward her, wondering if it was possible to accomplish such a feat in three nights. Three bliss-filled, incredible nights. They would have one more, at the least. Tonight. In a bed, in an upstairs chamber. On the morrow they would leave for London.
Daymon got up and ran toward him. Corwin caught the boy and lifted him up. “Corwin, did you really fight four men at one time and prevail over all?”
Apparently, Judith had been telling their tale, too, and had done so in Norman French for the benefit of Gerard’s mother, who understood not a word of English. The others in the small group who’d been listening to Judith understood and used both.
Corwin easily slipped into the language of the nobility. He leaned close to Daymon’s ear and whispered, “Truly, only three. I had already vanquished one when the others attacked. But let us keep the secret and not ruin her ladyship’s tale.”
Daymon nodded. A lock of golden blond hair that matched his father’s and half brother’s fell into his eyes. “‘Twould be rude to ruin her tale.”
“That it would,” Corwin said, giving the boy a hug and putting him down, only to find Bronwyn standing before him, tears in her eyes.
Unlike Ardith, who’d nearly knocked him over with a greeting, Bronwyn gave him a modest hug and quick kiss on the cheek. Also unlike Ardith, who preferred simplicity in manner and dress, upon her marriage to a wealthy Norman, Bronwyn had reveled in her life at court and newfound wealth. Corwin couldn’t help but wonder at the cost of her emerald silk gown, heavily decorated with gold thread.
Though Bronwyn loved her family and truly adored her husband, Corwin knew her tears weren’t for him. She wouldn’t have fretted over the safety of her younger brother as deeply as Ardith had worried over her twin. He brushed away the tear that escaped her eye. “What is this?” he asked, suspicious.
“Do you know, Corwin, how affective a tale Lady Judith
tells? I suspect she embellishes, for the boy’s sake. Still, she makes you sound almost.heroic.”
He leaned toward her, his eyes narrowed. “Are you saying I cannot be heroic?”
She smiled, wide and brilliantly. “Nay, silly. I know you have dash with a sword and a devotion to duty. ‘Tis not so much the tale she tells as how she tells it. Most entertaining and moving. I am so glad you brought her here before going on to London. I can now tell everyone I heard the tale first. My thanks, little brother.”
He’d given her something to brag about at court, the reason for her gratitude. “Happy to oblige.”
Still beaming, she turned and flounced back toward the hearth. As they followed her, Gerard rolled his eyes and shook his head. Corwin held back his laughter.
After a quick greeting to Gerard’s mother, and chucking little Everart under the chin, Corwin leaned over the newest member of the family, still firmly cradled in Judith’s arms.
“Who have we here?” he said, tugging the blanket aside to get a better view.
“This is Matthew,” Judith said, gazing down. “Is he not the most adorable baby ever?”
Was it wistfulness he heard in her voice, or did all women grow emotional over babies? On closer inspection, he decided Judith had a point.
“Well, Ardith, you did it right this time. Brown hair. Blue eyes. He looks like us. Well done!”
Through the round of laughter, Corwin heard the sound of booted feet hurrying across the plank floor. Gerard’s messenger and captain had arrived with far more haste than Ruford’s men had when summoned, yanking Corwin back to the business at hand.
“Ardith, have you a chamber ready for Judith?”
Her eyes went wide with horror. “Oh, dear! I was so busy listening to her story I forgot.”
Ardith made to get up, but Bronwyn pushed her back down. “You are not running away from me again. Lady Judith may have the chamber I was using until I took a pallet in the nursery. My trunks are in there, but the chamber is clean and the bed linens fresh. I will get a maid or two to show her up.”
“I will do it,” Corwin said. “Which chamber?”
Bronwyn’s eyes narrowed. “The one you normally use when in residence. But Corwin-”
He interrupted the upcoming protest regarding propriety.
“As you have heard, the lady and I have had a long journey, and we have much to discuss on how to proceed from here. When we are finished, I will send for maids.”
Judith rose from her chair. “He is right, Lady Bronwyn,” she said, and handed the baby over to Bronwyn’s care. “Our tale is not yet finished. We have much to discuss and I would prefer to do so privately.”
Bronwyn bowed her head. “As my lady wishes.”
Bronwyn relented, Corwin knew, not because she wanted to, but because of Judith’s royalty. Of everyone here, Bronwyn knew her place within the strict confines of the classes. His sister’s quick acquiescence and deference brought home just how difficult getting his reward might be.
Provided Judith wanted it, too, and was willing to stay the course. She’d said she loved him, had taken him as her lover. But was she willing to accept the censure of two kings, give up a life of privilege, to be the wife of a noteven-noble Saxon knight?
J
udith entered the bedchamber, noting how the same cozy feeling prevailed in this room as in the hall below. Open shutters admitted light. A huge, drapery-enclosed bed dominated the room. A small table near the bed held a basin and towel. A high-backed chair stood in the corner near a brazier.
Three enormous trunks lined the far wall. Bronwyn’s trunks. Likely filled with gowns of the same splendor as the emerald silk she wore this morn. One would think Bronwyn intended to live at Wilmont forever and beyond instead of merely visiting to help Ardith with the new baby.
A precious baby. A tiny new life made more dear because he so resembled his mother, and thus Corwin.
Judith didn’t need to look back to know Corwin had followed her into the chamber and closed the door. She felt him there, her awareness of him heightened by knowing he sometimes used this chamber as his own.
Judith ignored the bed as best she could while walking over to the window. The view without included the portion of the bailey where merchants’ shops lined the high palisade that surrounded Wilmont. Beyond the palisade she
could make out only the tops of trees from the nearby woodland.
How many times had she looked out a high window of Romsey Abbey, wishing she were free to go roam among the trees? She’d done so the morning of her kidnapping, and then convinced Sister Mary Margaret and others to escape with her.
“‘Tis nearly over, is it not, our adventure?” she said,
perversely wishing it wasn’t.
“Almost,” Corwin answered. He came to stand beside
her and share the view out the window.
“What happens now?”
Corwin pointed toward Wilmont’s gate, where soldiers and horses were gathering. “Gerard sends men to Norgate, to rout any of the rebels who may still be there. I have a feeling ‘tis a useless venture. Ruford knows we will tell authorities of his stronghold and his purpose. I imagine the troops have moved from Norgate, if not scattered throughout the kingdom.”
Judith didn’t care what happened to the troops, only to the man who’d vowed to hunt them all down and take his revenge.
“And Ruford?”
Corwin shrugged a shoulder. “If he stays in England or Scotland, he will be captured eventually. Gerard also sends a messenger to London, who will inform the king that you are here and safe, and give him the information we have on the rebellion. Henry will not only increase the palace guards but send word to a number of his trusted vassals and have the seaports watched closely. What the king wants, the king usually gets, and he will want Ruford Clark with a passion.”
Just as she wanted Corwin.
She’d always known this time would come. Letting Corwin
go to get on with his life was the hardest thing she would ever do. He would come to London with her, for King Henry would want to question him extensively on the rebellion. There was likely a reward waiting for him to collect. He certainly deserved a reward for all he’d done. Then Corwin would leave London, and she might never see him again.
She didn’t want to think about the reward Henry likely had waiting for her. Marriage, to some high-born, wealthy noble. A man who would lock her up within a strong castle and keep her there so Henry needn’t worry about her anymore. Corwin had the right of it. What the king wanted, the king usually got, and Henry would marry her off where he thought it would bring him the most benefit.
“I imagine we leave here soon,” she said.
“On the morn.”
“We will not be alone this time.”
He gave a short burst of laughter. “Nay. Gerard will provide an escort worthy of your rank, I can assure you. Nor will the earth be your bed any longer. We will spend tomorrow night at an abbey halfway between Wilmont and London. The abbot will give you the best bed to be had in the ladies’ court. The day after, we will go to Westminster.”
She’d rather sleep on the ground, in a patch of long grass, with Corwin beside her-loving her so thoroughly she couldn’t help but fall into a contented sleep when done.
She edged closer to him, to the man she already missed with all her heart. Her ire rose against the unfairness of having to give up the one man she would ever love. What good did her royal blood do her when it made happiness impossible?
Corwin put his arm around her shoulders and continued to stare out the window. He would miss her, too, she knew,
at least for a while. Until some other woman took her place in his bed, maybe even engaged his affections. Became his wife.
She shoved the future to where it belonged, beyond her ability to change. For now,
she
belonged beside Corwin, and a huge, drapery-enclosed bed stood only a few feet away. Mercy, she’d become a wanton in a short time, ready to tear the chain mail off Corwin with the slightest encouragement.
“I have given a great deal of thought to what form the king’s reward will take,” he said.
“Land and coin,” she said immediately. “‘Tis the norm. The only question is where and how much.”
He nodded. “All I have is one small manor, Lenvil. The demesne is not large but serves my needs. It boasts a village and church. The people are hardworking and friendly, and pay their rents on time. ‘Tis not much, but more than many have.”
“Now you will have more. If one of the holdings within the reward suits you, you can make another manor your home.”
He shook his head. “Lenvil will ever be my home, so long as Gerard sees fit to let me keep it. I truly do not wish for another. I have no need for the king’s land or coin.”
‘Twas the first she’d ever heard of a man who had no wish for money or land. In wealth and property were power, and those who owned it ruled.
“What will you do with the reward then?”
“I am thinking of refusing it.”
Shocked, she blurted out, “Refuse? Corwin, that is.”
The corner of his mouth quirked with amusement. “Gerard called me witless.”
‘Twas as good a word as any. “All right then, witless.
You deserve a reward, and must take what is offered or you insult the king.”
“Oh, I deserve a reward. So do you. I am hoping we might agree on what form the reward might take.”
Confused, she tossed up her hands. “I will have no say, nor will you. ‘Tis for the king to decide.”
“What if I asked for something in particular, something I want above everything? Might he listen and consider it?”
“Mayhap, if what you ask for is within his power to grant.”
“He is the only one who can.” Corwin ran a hand through his hair. “I know I do this badly, but I fear to.ah, hell. I have no right to ask for what I want, and at a word from you will take what Henry offers and go my way.” He turned slightly and gripped her shoulders. “I have no place within your world. You move in circles I am only permitted to view from a respectable distance. I am not of royal blood or even noble, merely a landed knight.”
Corwin took a deep breath. Judith held hers, hardly daring to hope where his words and upset seemed to be leading.
He cupped her face in his large, warm hands and said softly, “I love you, Judith, and want you as my wife. I intend to turn down whatever reward Henry offers and ask for you. I swear, if you agree, I will fight heaven and hell and Henry to make it happen.”
Judith’s heart swelled to beyond bearable. “Say it again, Corwin, just so I am sure I heard you aright.”
“I love you, Judith.”
She grabbed hold of his chain mail, tugged him down and kissed him hard. “I love you, too.”
“Be my wife.”
“Find a priest.”
He wrapped her in his arms, held her close. “Ah, my
love, if I thought for one moment that Henry would not have our heads, I would. For myself, I would risk it. But I will not endanger you or Gerard.”
If they married without Henry’s permission, the king would not only punish them for doing so, but punish Gerard for allowing it. Corwin would risk himself, but no one he loved.
Corwin loves me.
But love rarely played a part in royal marriages. Political alliances were considered first and above all.
“Oh, Corwin, do you think it possible? I fear to hope.”
“I wish I could give you some surety, but there is none. Many besides the king will object. Right now, having done the king a great service, we are in the best position to have our petition granted. Gerard will help us, as will Bronwyn’s husband,’ Kester. We can but ask. Much may depend upon our resolve.”
She smiled up at him. “I can be quite stubborn when I set my mind to it. Only talk to Abbess Christina. She and I had some mighty rows over my refusal to take vows.”
“This will be different. We will face the court’s censure as well as the king’s disapproval. Standing firm may be harder than either of us imagines.”
Judith stood on tiptoe and wrapped her arms around Corwin’s neck. “If the prize at the end is you, I will not only stand firm but will help in any way I can.”
“Take no undue risks,” he said, his fingers undoing the ties of her gown.
She kissed him, encouraging him, letting his comment go unanswered. She’d already taken the biggest risk of all by falling in love, by giving her heart to Corwin.
They made love on a feather-stuffed mattress. Judith soared at Corwin’s touch, thrilled to his entry and shattered at his intimate thrusts just as she had on the forest floor.
Even as the last ripples of completion wafted through her, Judith thought of the days to come. Of standing before Henry awaiting a decision on their marriage. Corwin had allies in Gerard and Kester. Their influence would count for much. But Judith knew of another who might help, one closer to the king than anyone-the only ally Judith might have. Matilda, Queen of England.
His destrier wanted to run, as though sensing the stall and food awaiting him when they reached the palace. Corwin sympathized but held the horse to a pace comfortable for the foot soldiers within the escort. With London but an hour away, he had no reason to hurry except for his impatience for an audience with King Henry.
Gerard had, indeed, provided an escort suitable for a royal heiress. A mixture of knights and foot soldiers made up a small army, designed to discourage the most daring of outlaws and to impress all who saw the company.
No one could doubt the reason for this grand display. Judith rode by his side, clad in a gown of midnight blue and shimmering silver. Judith had admired the gown, and Bronwyn promptly made a gift of it over Judith’s protests. She rode her mare-now truly her own. Another gift, this time from Gerard.
She’d then stopped voicing admiration for anything, for fear Corwin’s family would hear royal desire in her voice and make her another gift. Judith hadn’t abused her rank. Bronwyn and Gerard both had their own reasons for giving the gifts. Still, Corwin couldn’t help wishing the tactic would work with Henry.
Corwin knew he’d done nearly all he could to prepare for his meeting with the king. He and Gerard had gone over all the arguments and prepared defenses for each. He’d even shucked his chain mail at today’s noon respite, in
favor of a deep green dalmatic most suitable for court, though he wore his sword. Still, it.all came down to his lack of rank, to a mere knight who reached high for a royal heiress.
Corwin turned at the sound of a horse coming up hard behind him, unconcerned that the rider could be anyone except one of Wilmont’s knights. He knew something more was amiss than a broken-down wagon as soon as he saw the man’s face, which held anger and shock.
“A group of men bear down on us. I believe they mean to attack!” he said incredulously, pointing behind and to the west.
Corwin spun his horse around. From across an open field a large dust cloud rose above the heads of perhaps twenty men, coming on hard indeed. He knew who the leader must be without seeing his face. Only one man wanted him badly enough to attack a company of highly trained Wilmont soldiers, so close to London. Ruford Clark.
Corwin shook his head at the stupidity of it even as he shouted orders for the men to form battle lines across the field.
Judith’s eyes grew round as she watched the soldiers array themselves for battle. Corwin didn’t want her to see the fighting, nor take the chance that by some strange twist of fate she might be hurt.
He called out to four knights. “To me,” he commanded. They obeyed immediately.
Corwin chose the one he trusted above all others with Judith’s care. “Alain, take lady Judith to the king at Westminster. Alert the royal guard to the presence of rebels in the area. We will protect your rear. Do not stop until she is within the palace.”
“Nay,” Judith cried out. “Come with me. You are not prepared for battle.”
He wasn’t, but he was still in command. There wasn’t time to say all he wanted to, only a moment for a brief reassurance. He positioned his destrier next to her mare, facing Judith, then grasped her hand and looked deep into her eyes.
“I send you ahead as a mere precaution. You are not to worry. I will follow you shortly. Understand?”
She pursed her lips and nodded slightly, but the worry didn’t leave her eyes. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the palm hard. “Now go. See how fast your mare can run.”
With two knights ahead of Judith, and two behind, Corwin felt sure she’d be safe. He watched her flight for only a moment before turning to face Ruford and his mercenaries.
Judith rode with her heart in her throat, pulsing to the speeding rhythm of her mare and the four destriers. Corwin had said not to worry, and she hoped to heaven his remaining knights would protect their unarmored commander.
Still, she’d known without being told who led the attack on the company. Only one man would dare, the man who’d vowed to hunt them down and make them pay dearly for ruining his plan to overthrow the crown and take it for himself. Judith knew in her bones that Ruford and Corwin would exchange blows.
Holding tight to the reins of her galloping mare as the leagues to London’s gates flowed by, she prayed so hard for Corwin’s safety she barely noticed anything around her. Judith tried not to envision the worst, of Corwin and Ruford standing toe to toe, swords drawn-Corwin unprotected save for the skill of his sword arm. She’d watched him fight
thus against Duncan and three soldiers, and took some comfort in the extent of his skill.