“You come late to your work, wench.”
He had sat down at the end of the long trestle table that would not be taken down until after the guests departed. The end of the table was five or six feet away from Kristen’s table. Two other women were working there, but she knew he spoke to her. They looked at him; Kristen did not.
But she did answer. “So I do.”
Several long moments of silence followed, then he said, “I see you are no longer being punished.”
“’Twas no punishment that had me chained,” she replied mildly as she continued to eat.
“Aye, I know you said ’twas because you are dangerous.” There was derision in his tone. “I might even have
believed that after yestermorn, except that you would not have your freedom now if ’twas true.”
She shrugged. “Mayhap Lord Royce feels there is a greater danger here now than myself.”
“What danger? Curse you, look at me when I speak to you!”
Her eyes lifted slowly, finally fixing on his angry features. His face was red. There was an ugly slant to his mouth. He was not so handsome in his anger.
Her own look dismissed him, as if he were no more worthy of her attention than a rangy dog. She went back to eating before she gave an answer.
“You were the danger, milord. I have my freedom to protect myself. Lord Royce knows I do that very well.”
She was ignoring him again. Eldred had never in his life been treated this way by a woman. Women fawned over him, they loved him, they fought each other for his favor. This one treated him as if he were beneath her notice, and she a slave! He could kill her for that. If they were alone, he would have her beneath him—where she would pay dearly for her contempt.
“Royce chained you,” Eldred sneered, “just as he chains those savages in the yard who build his wall. Tell me, wench, does he chain you to his bed as well?”
He heard the women beside her gasp at his crudity, but the one to whom it was directed was not affected by his words at all. She sat there in calm serenity, eating her food, and he wanted to strangle her for it. How had she managed to make him lose control? He had wanted only to taunt and ridicule her, to make her pay for what she had done yestermorn.
There would be gossip if he did not leave go, gossip such as he had heard this morn: that Royce had not even waited until he was alone to summon her to his bed, but had escorted her from the hall. Blatantly he had made
known his preference for a slave—a
slave!
—and in front of his King!
Eldred wished he had been present to see that bit of foolishness. But he had been loath to face Royce in Alfred’s presence after Alden had made clear to him that this slave was special to Royce. It would be just like Royce to take issue with Eldred for what he had tried to do, and Eldred never won where Royce was concerned. He had worked too hard to gain Alfred’s respect to lose it in an altercation with Royce over a slave.
But he still could not leave go. His anger was too great. It could only be appeased by her humiliation.
“Bring me ale, wench,” he ordered harshly. When one of the other servants moved to do so, he snapped, “Nay, the Viking wench will do it.”
She was looking at him now, by God. But Eldred felt only a moment’s satisfaction to have gained her full attention at last, for her eyes were sparkling with humor!
“If you truly want ale, milord, you had best let Edrea fetch it. If she does not, you will have to get it yourself.”
“You refuse to serve me?”
Kristen was hard pressed to keep from smiling. “Nay, milord,” she said quietly. “I follow Lord Royce’s orders—when it pleases me. And it pleases me that he has forbidden me to serve his guests.”
She had pushed him too far. It took him only a second to reach her. He yanked her to her feet with one hand, while the other drew back to strike her. She did not give him the chance, shoving him away.
Eldred came at her again, but was stopped this time by a harsh voice behind him. “Do not touch her, milord.”
He swung around, staring furiously at Royce’s serf Seldon. Another of Royce’s retainers was just behind him. Both had their hands resting on their sword hilts.
“Nay, I will not be stopped this time!” Eldred growled. “The wench will be punished.”
“Not by you. Lord Royce’s orders are that no one touches the woman.”
Unexpectedly, Kristen became angry at that. “I need no help with this cur. I would have carved him with his own weapon.”
Before they knew what she was about, she snatched Eldred’s dagger from his waist. It was pure contempt that made her stab it into the table instead of keeping it to ward him off. For that humiliation, he ignored the warning he had been given and backhanded her. Kristen retaliated by joining her fists and swinging at his jaw. The blow slammed Eldred into the table; he half fell over it. Royce’s men helped him up, but did not let go of him, though he was struggling and blustering.
Over the noise Eldred was making, Kristen could hear Darrelle shrieking and looked to see her rushing toward the entrance. Then she groaned inwardly, for Royce stood there—and not alone, but with Alfred beside him. And Royce looked fit to kill. He dismissed Darrelle with a sharp word.
Eldred heard Royce and stopped struggling. The two men saw him now and let Eldred go. Not one of them moved as Royce and the King crossed the hall to them.
Nothing of what she was feeling showed in Kristen’s expression. Outwardly she was calm, while inwardly she trembled. This was all her fault. She had deliberately provoked the lordling. She had hoped to make him furious, and had. And now she would pay for that spite. Royce looked furious enough to do worse than merely chain her again.
Eldred saw a chance for revenge and took it, beseeching Alfred before Royce could speak. “Milord, I demand retribution against this slave. Twice she has raised arms against your nobles. Lord Randwulf lies
abed with a broken rib from a chain she wielded against him. Now she dares to strike me and—”
Seldon broke into this recital to tell Royce, “He was warned, milord, that ’twas your will no one touch her.”
“Is that true, Eldred?” Alfred asked quietly.
“She provoked me!” Eldred insisted.
“It matters not the why,” Alfred replied. “She is not yours to chastise, and you were warned against it. This disturbance in the home of your host is transgression enough. You will leave us, and will not return to court until you are summoned.”
Eldred paled at that announcement. He seemed about to protest, but must have thought better of it, for he nodded curtly and withdrew.
Royce watched him leave the hall, his fists clenched at his sides. “I would you had not done that, milord.”
Alfred was wise enough not to smile. “I know. You would have preferred to draw your sword against him. But have patience, my friend. Wessex needs every man at this time, even those of Eldred’s ilk. When we have a true peace, you may settle your quarrel with him.”
Royce glanced sharply at his King, and then some of the tension left him and he nodded. He then looked to Kristen. He stepped toward her, putting his large hand over the red mark on her cheek.
“Are you all right?”
Kristen could have crumbled right there at his feet, her relief was so great. That look of black rage had not been for her. Unfortunately, once relief took hold, Kristen’s anger shot to the fore. No longer fearing reprisal, she remembered what had made her lose her temper earlier.
She pointed a stiff finger at Royce’s two men. “I do not need your watchdogs, milord.”
His hand dropped away from her cheek. “So we saw.”
They saw? Unease tempered her anger. Very well, they had seen, but they had not heard what happened. She glanced at the two retainers to see if they would say anything more. They were looking at her too. Seldon was grinning at her. They did not speak up now, but they might later. And what they could tell Royce was that she had goaded Eldred with her tongue, that with her insults she had courted the slap he gave her.
More of her anger was tempered. Only resentment remained, and this she voiced quietly. “I know why you set them on me, milord. ’Twas not for my protection, for you know I am my own protector. They replace my fetters, to see I do not escape. Is this how you trust me?”
Royce frowned now. With Alfred privy to the conversation, he would not placate her. He could not. Yet he knew Kristen well enough by now to know that to have her angry with him made all dealings with her most difficult, and he was the only one to suffer for that.
“Until we strike our bargain, vixen, do not question what I do.”
His tone was harsh, the dark emerald of his eyes telling. Too late Kristen remembered Alfred’s presence. She stole a glance at him, to find that he was amused by this argument between slave and lord. God’s teeth! How could she be such a fool as to challenge Royce in front of his King? And she had indeed forgotten about that bargain Royce had mentioned.
She was not too proud to admit her mistakes. She offered Royce a hesitant smile. She offered him more to make amends.
“Forgive me, milord. My tongue ofttimes runs away with me. And I am sorry for the disturbance. Lord Eldred meant to anger me—and I meant to anger him. We both succeeded, but I regret you had to witness such folly.”
Royce was stunned more by her apology than by her confession. But it was the confession that made the King of Wessex throw back his leonine head and laugh.
“God’s mercy, Royce. Such honesty is frightening. And I thought to envy you your prize. Nay, sir, she is too blunt for a court rife with subtleties and false words of flattery.”
Royce snorted. “She was not offered, milord.”
Kristen gasped at that bold statement, but Alfred did not take offense. In fact he laughed again.
“I see her bluntness is contagious. I will do well to keep my other nobles away from her, or I will never again hear what an excellent hunter I am.”
Now Royce chuckled. “You will not lack such praise today, milord, not when you have yourself supplied our evening fare.”
They walked away then, but not before Royce gave Kristen a curious look, then a half smile. She had appeased him as she had intended. Later, he would have to appease her.
K
risten was sent upstairs by Eda. That she was sent alone, unescorted by Eda or her two guards, did much to improve Kristen’s disposition. She did not even think to go anywhere but to Royce’s chamber.
He was still below. The hour was late. Most of his guests had retired. But the King was still drinking and telling tales to match any minstrel’s. It would be unseemly for Royce to retire a second night before his King.
Kristen knew that and had to be patient. Last eve she had been too tired to even remember the bargain they were to speak of. Not so this night. Her load had been minimal today, many of her usual tasks taken over by others. She was allowed to rest often by the window. Eda even took her out of the hot hall for several hours to tend the guests’ chambers upstairs.
Kristen remembered last eve and knew her lighter load was by Royce’s order. She knew now what he meant by being selfish, but she took no exception to that. She was herself anticipating the pleasure a night spent in his arms would bring. There was no thought now of withholding anything from him. He gave her her freedom. He also gave her many instances that showed he did care for her.
He was coming round, her Saxon. Eventually he would admit he was her heartmate. When he did that, he would marry her. He would also free her friends, and she would get a message to her parents through them. All would work out in the end. It was just a difficult road to that end.
Kristen smiled, seeing that there were two large containers of water on the table tonight, as well as extra cloths for drying and soaking up the water. She made quick use of hers, then slipped naked under the thin sheet on the bed to await her lord. Aye, she could think of him as her lord now, for he would be that in truth once she married him.
Royce came not fifteen minutes later. It would have amused Kristen to know how distracted he had been below after she left, and how Alfred had taken pity on him and retired so that his host could too. As it was, she was warmed by his look of pleased surprise on finding her already abed.
She lay curled on her side, with elbow bent and her head resting in the palm of her hand so she could better watch him as he came forward. God’s teeth, but she liked what she saw. His will might be against her at times, but there was not a single thing about his body she could find wanting.
Since the King’s party had come, Royce had dressed more impressively than was his custom. He wore a mantle clasped on his right shoulder as the other lords did, his a dark brown with saffron lining of rare silk. The same saffron silk edged his sand-colored tunic at hem and neck, with long sleeves fitted at his wrists. The earthy colors suited him to perfection, making the deep green of his eyes all the more startling. He also wore a wide belt studded round with fat amber stones. Even the dagger in his belt was jewel hilted.
He had not spoken to her since the incident with Eldred. Now he surprised her by saying, “You gave me an apology today that I am not sure I want.”
“You have it anyway, milord, to do with as you like,” she offered.
“Then I give it back.” He sat down beside her on the bed, one knee bent so he could face her. His hand moved toward her hip, hesitated, then drew back. “I
have known Eldred long. I know how his mind works to make trouble.”
Kristen said quietly, “I did not lie, milord. I did in fact provoke him apurpose.”
“But he sought you out, not you him.”
She grinned now. “I cannot argue with that.”
He moved his hand again toward her, and this time rested it for a moment on her hip. “I did not thank you for your discretion before Alfred.”
“Aye, you did,” she replied softly.
He had feared she had not understood the smile he gave her when he left with Alfred, but she did. She knew him better than he thought, and that pleased him.
He smiled at her before he stood up to leave the bed. They would get no talking done if he stayed so close to her, and he did want his bargain agreed to. It was not much he would ask of her. As much as she loved her freedom, he did not think she could refuse.