April Munday (17 page)

Thomas considered that possibility. They had previously discounted the possibility of Sit Walter having allies prepared to engage in such an action. It would certainly demand a devastating response from the duke, who had the men and the engines of war to punish those who took up arms against him. It might even attract the attention of the king. “Can anyone see the standard?” he asked. It would help them to know the identity of the man who led the small army.

Richard shook his head, “No, they are too far away.”

From the activity in the town below, Rosamunde realised that Sir Walter had also become aware of the approaching army, although it was hard to tell whether he was expecting friend or foe.

“Sound the alarm,” said Rosamunde. “It may be that they bring with them siege engines and they are numerous.” She could not see any, but the baggage train that always travelled with an army was still out of sight.

Thomas left to obey her command and Rosamunde stood with Richard’s arm still around her waist looking out at the approaching army. She wondered whether he knew that he still held her. A sudden desire to place her own hand on the hand that held her swept through her, but she did not move. Such an act would alert Richard to his own inattention and he would release her.

“Do you carry your knife?” asked Richard.

She nodded, forcing herself to concentrate on his words. They had been this close many times before when he had been teaching her, but she had never been as aware of him as she was now.

“And you remember what I taught you?”

“Yes,” she said, turning to look up into his face. “I remember everything. You have been a good teacher.”

“Then I stay at your side until this is over.”

Rosamunde bit her lip, remembering her dream of his dead body. She knew now that she loved him and did not want to think of any harm coming to him. But although he was much healed, he was not particularly agile and in any prolonged fight he must come off the worse.

“My lady!” The shout from the tower brought her back to the problem at hand. Nick, a young boy form the town had been sent up into the tower, for his eyesight was better than anyone else’s in the castle. “I can see the standard!” he shouted.

“Describe it to me,” Rosamunde called back.

 “It is the king’s standard!” she said in surprise, before he had got very far. Why had the king chosen this moment to send a messenger to the castle? It could not be the king himself, since the negotiations with France must be taking up all his time.

”This could be another trick of Sir Walter’s,” warned Richard.

“I know.” She looked down at the army camped below in time to see a rider leaving under a sign of parley. He rode up to the approaching army and then rode back with three men. By the time they arrived below the castle walls Sir Walter and some of his men were also mounted. Rosamunde saw that one of the men wearing the king’s colours was a herald. When he reached the castle wall he took out a roll of parchment which he gave to Sir Walter, who had followed him there, so that he could inspect the seal. Taking it back, he broke the seal, unrolled the parchment and began to read loudly enough for those on the castle walls to hear.

After the usual greetings came the king’s message.

“It has been told to me that Sir Walter of Linn has undertaken to lay siege to the castle of my loyal subject William, Duke of Winton for the purpose of forcing Lady Rosamunde de Winton to become his wife against her own will and against that of her father. Sir Walter is hereby ordered to abandon the siege and to give himself over to Sir George de la Chapelle the bearer of this letter and to accompany him to Westminster where I shall decide upon his punishment.

Signed this day Edward, King of England.”

It was a short letter, but it meant that the siege was over. Rosamunde sagged against Richard in relief and felt his grip on her waist tighten in response. The army that backed up the letter was enough, with the castle garrison, to put Sir Walter’s men to flight. Although there still lingered in Rosamunde’s mind some doubt that it had actually come from the king. It was possible that in the three months of the siege Sir Walter had thought of another ruse to make her leave the castle and what better way than to make her think she had been rescued by the king. Sir George was a friend of her father’s, however, and she recalled that Sir Walter had met him at the castle some years before. It would be a good choice if he wanted her to believe that she had been rescued.

“At last,” said Thomas who had come to stand beside her on the wall.

“What do you mean?” she asked. She turned towards him carefully, still not wanting Richard to relinquish his hold on her. Thomas was smiling so broadly that she had to smile in return, despite her doubts.

“I did not tell you in case nothing came from it, after all the king has other worries, but your father sent a messenger to London to ask for the king’s help should Sir Walter lay siege to the castle.”

“Of course,” said Richard, remembering the rider who had left the ship the moment they had docked, “Martin.”

“Yes,” smiled Thomas, “Martin was sent to the king with a letter explaining what the duke thought would happen. “He thought the king might not believe him, or, believing him, might not have the men available to help him immediately.”

“He has come to our aid,” breathed Rosamunde.

“Yes, my lady.”

“Then we must go down and greet our rescuer.”

As she turned, Rosamunde slipped in the ice and Richard tightened his hold on her. “It would be a shame to come to harm now, Rosamunde, when there is no longer anything to fear from Sir Walter.” His breath was warm against her ear as he spoke to her as privately as possible.

“I shall be more careful,” she promised, steadying herself against him. Through all the layers of clothing keeping them warm, she felt his laboured breathing and wondered again at what it must cost him to bear her weight. It seemed as if the effort must tire him, but she did not want him to let her go. If anything, his hold on her tightened as he helped her down the steps. He seemed to be bearing all her weight and she felt as light in body as she did in spirit. He did not release her until they were in the bailey, where the snow had been cleared to make a path to the gate.

Sir George was already at the gatehouse when they arrived. Rosamunde recognised him and knew that he was no part of any deception arranged by Sir Walter. She ordered the gate open and curtsied low as he entered.

As she raised her head, he entered the bailey and presented her with the king’s seal for her inspection. He was accompanied by Martin, who received a loud cheer from the people in the bailey. Rosamunde glanced at him and smiled, then returned her attentions to the duke.

“I am most grateful for your aid,” she said, curtseying formally again.

“I was pleased to come, Rosamunde. I was with the court when your father’s messenger arrived and I was dismayed to think that the daughter of my old friend should be in such danger.”

Rosamunde read the letter quickly, although she did not doubt that the herald had read its contents accurately. “Come and eat with us,” she offered once she had finished, extending her father’s hospitality to his friend.

“Thank you, but later, if I may. I must see that my troops are settled. But there is one thing I should say to you before I go. Sir Walter said that he has merely come to claim what is his, but has been denied him.”

“What do you mean?" asked Rosamunde, puzzled, suspecting yet another trick.

“He claims that you were promised to him before you were betrothed to Simon de Purlieu.”

“That is not true,” protested Rosamunde. “I was never promised to Sir Walter. He came to ply his suit, but my father did not approve of him.”

“So the matter cannot be settled until your father returns.” The duke seemed dissatisfied with this answer, as if it upset plans of his own.

“So Sir Walter will go unpunished,” said Richard flatly. Although Rosamunde detected an edge to his voice that no one else seemed to notice. He stood close behind Rosamunde, closer than etiquette allowed, but he was her own bodyguard and she felt safe with him almost touching her.

The duke looked hard at Richard, startled by his accent. His eyes narrowed as he looked him up and down, taking in the twisted leg. “He will be punished. But we must wait for the duke’s arrival, since Rosamunde’s word is not enough.” Richard snorted, as if surprised that any man should require more than Rosamunde’s word. Thomas also protested, but weakly, knowing that a knight’s word would count more than that of a mere woman.

“What will happen to Sir Walter in the meantime?” asked Rosamunde, trying to regain control of the situation.

“He will return to his property with some of my men to keep close guard over him.”

“Then I am content,” lied Rosamunde. This was as good as letting Sir Walter go unpunished and she did not need to see Thomas’ and Richard’s faces to know that they were angry. For herself the fear that had left her when she had seen the duke now returned. There was little to prevent Sir Walter finding some other way to take her by force before her father returned. At least when he had been laying siege to the castle they had known where he was and what he was doing. She could only hope that the guard provided by the duke would prove to be effective.

The duke left them and Rosamunde stood in the gatehouse and watched them lead Sir Walter away. His men began to break up their camp. Rosamunde gave orders that no one was to leave the castle until they were gone and that the town should be searched by troops from the garrison before the townspeople would be permitted to return to what was left of their homes. She and Thomas and William had given much thought as to how the town could be rebuilt, but they had expected it to happen in the spring, not now in the winter. She sighed and her relief disappeared. It seemed that the breaking of the siege would provide even harder work than the siege itself. They would have to bring the celebrations for Candlemas forward to tonight, for now they had something to celebrate. Word had spread quickly through the castle and there was much happiness and as she had foreseen many people expected to leave at that moment for their homes. The afternoon was a flurry of preparation and confusion and she finally sought solace in the still-room where she found Richard and Margaret. “You look tired,” he said. He smiled gently as he took a step towards her. “We have been making something for you,” and he gave her a cup of warmed, spiced wine.

“Thank you,” she said, “It has been a busy day.” She took a sip. She did not quite recognise the taste and realised that it must have been Richard’s recipe, rather than Margaret’s.

“Rest now.” Richard still stood by her and she felt his strength as much as she had when he had held her on the battlements.

“There is still much to be done,” she said, wearily. “Everyone wishes to go home and there is no home to go to.”

Richard made as if to say something. “You may speak freely,” she said, although he had rarely needed permission before.

“I do not think Sir Walter will consider himself beaten and I should like to remain close to you.”

Relief flooded through Rosamunde. She was not being foolish. Richard agreed with her assessment and would continue to obey the duke’s orders.

“Thank you. I shall feel much happier knowing that you are still on your guard.”

Rosamunde set to work organising the celebration and then thought about gifts for the duke and the king. She decided that she would not send anything too extravagant to the king, but would leave it to her father to decide upon a more suitable gift when he returned so she contented herself with writing an effusive letter of thanks, promising him her father’s gratitude and explaining that her small gift was limited only by the bounds of the authority her father had placed upon her. For the duke she decided on something of small value, but of importance to her father. She trusted that the duke would understand its significance. Once this was done she despatched a messenger to the court. Finally she allowed her thoughts to return to Richard. The siege was over and he was still alive. She wondered what plans her father would have for him now. Perhaps he would consider the ransom paid and send Richard back to his home. She did not like to think of him going away from her but there had been no sign from him that he regarded her with anything more than the respect that was due to the duke’s daughter. She was still in this mood of quiet reflection when Richard came upon her in the solar.

“Rosamunde,” he said, “they are looking for you to celebrate.”

“I have written to the king,” she explained, “And sent a gift.”

He nodded. “That was wise.”

“There is so much to be done,” she sighed. “I had expected my father to be here before such decisions needed to be made.”

“You have good advisors in Thomas and Guy,” said Richard gently.

“And you,” she said. “You have always given me good advice.”

“My advice was more suited to a time of war than to a time of peace.” She thought he looked even more serious than usual. Was he sad that the threat was gone, even if temporarily?

“Will you be a soldier again, now that your leg is better?”

He shrugged. “I know little else.”

“You did not marry well?” she asked curiously. “Did your wife not have property?” This was territory into which she had not strayed before, but things had changed and Richard could no longer expect to die at any moment. He must expect curiosity about his previous life.

He smiled sadly, “I married for love, not advancement. My wife was poorer even than I.”

Rosamunde had not known that. It showed Richard in a new light. She had not thought of him as a man enslaved to his emotions, but it was almost inconceivable that a man who had no fortune would marry a woman without a proper dowry.

“What will you do now?” she asked, although she knew that until the duke’s return he would not know whether he had a choice about his future.

“I will await the duke’s pleasure,” he said simply.

Rosamunde understood. The duke might not consider the ransom so easily paid. Richard had certainly contributed to the success of Rosamunde’s survival of the siege, but it was mainly due to the duke’s own foresight that the siege had been broken. Rosamunde almost smiled in the knowledge that Richard would be staying longer in the castle, at least until the duke returned.