Fires of Winter (19 page)

“Ulle?” I gasped. “You will take me to Ulle?”

“If you make yourself pleasant to those at Jernaeve and give me no reason to think that you will do anything to spite the king or lessen his power over your lands…”

I knew Bruno went on speaking and my eyes were fixed on his face, but I neither saw nor heard. A cold horror had overtaken me. Could I go back to Ulle, to those halls and chambers haunted by my brothers and father? Bruno had spoken about getting back the lands, but that had been a thing in the distant future. I suppose I had believed that it would be years before I need see another man seated in my father's chair, other hands than those of my brothers' holding cups at a high table. I heard a strange sound, like the whimpering of a small lost beast, and suddenly there were warm arms around me and a man's smell in my nostrils as I was pressed against his chest, and a deep voice crying, “Melusine, Melusine, what is wrong?”

All my life I had been comforted by men. My mother loved me, but she felt I got petting enough, and when I was hurt or frightened, it was always Papa or my brothers who held me and begged me to tell them what was wrong and kissed away my tears. I clung to that broad warm chest, to the man-smell that meant safety and comfort, and sobbed out my hurt.

Bruno

I had good reason to believe, as did the queen, that Melusine had been pretending to be half-witted for some purpose of her own. After all, she had almost succeeded in sticking my own hunting knife into me. But as I sat looking down at her after she had at long last cried herself to sleep, I began to wonder if perhaps she had not intended to deceive anyone but had been living in some world of her own because she could no longer bear her grief in this one. I was shaken to my core with pity for the child within the grown woman, who still believed she had murdered a good part of her family just because they had come to celebrate her birthday. And that clinging memory of the ice crystals whitening her murdered brother's eyes—I shuddered at it myself.

Had I known the burden Melusine carried, I would have been more careful in introducing the subject of taking her home. I had thought that she would be overjoyed and my only problem would be keeping her at Jernaeve until I had finished the king's errands. Now I did not know what to do. I had told her that there was no need to go to Ulle, but I do not think she heard or understood me. And if we did not go now, I was not sure when I would be able to get leave again and I was eager to look over what had been Melusine's property.

I had been totally indifferent to everything except the immediate problem of taking the manor when I was there with the king's army. I had no idea I would ever have any special interest in Cumbria. When I thought of the grant of lands I might someday receive as a reward for loyal service, I always thought of lands in Northumbria. And it was always a thing very far in the future so I did not, like many of those who expected favors from the king, look at every keep and manor he took with an eye to asking for it. Thus, Ulle and the area in which it lay were only dimly remembered. I had intended, with Melusine as a guide, to examine her lands to see if there was some great source of wealth in them. I did not think there would be, nor that I would discover any strategic reason I had missed when we passed through for the king to hold those lands in his own hand. But I had to be sure before I approached the subject of reclaiming Melusine's estate.

She was still sobbing in her sleep, so I stroked her hair and she grew quieter. One good thing about her tears and terror was that they had cooled my lust. When she had accused me of setting my whore to serve her as an insult, I had barely held myself back from proving that I was as hungry for her as for any whore—and perhaps a little more. She might be too big and too dark with features too strongly marked for my taste, but she had been a sweet-smelling armful when I held her in the queen's hall, and the way she laughed when I teased her had sent waves of heat through me. I had to let go of her and step away lest my rising lust show openly.

Even though I felt no desire now—poor Melusine was too much like a hurt child to think of coupling this night—I wished I had not so lightly given my oath not to demand my marital rights. Tomorrow it would not be easy to lie in this bed with her without some relief, and the next day would be harder yet. Perhaps I could find some reason to leave before the week the king had set for our departure. Once on the road, separate pallets or camp beds would keep us well apart and I might have time to slake my thirst on some girl without Melusine's knowledge. Or, would it be better if she suspected? Had her anger about Edna been more than that of a dog who keeps an ox from his manger out of pure spite? She had been angry when I showed myself indifferent to her charms even soon after she had tried to kill me.

A wicked notion came to me then. Perhaps I would ask her permission. I could flatter her at the same time by saying she was so beautiful and desirable that I was finding it hard to keep my promise not to couple with her. I considered that as I slid down to lie flat, enjoying my memory of how her dark eyes seemed almost to show a flicker of red when she was angry at me in the queen's hall, and how laughter had overcome her anger. A quick temper, but not a sour or stubborn one, thank God. The king and queen might not have done so ill for me as I thought at first—unless Melusine, who I was now sure did not remember that I had been the man who “took” Ulle, suddenly recalled it.

That brought my mind back to Melusine's violent reaction to my offer to take her home. I turned my head but could not see her face, which was nearly buried in the pillow. Her breathing was quiet now, not troubled even by the little hiccups that follow prolonged weeping. I sighed and closed my eyes. I would not force her if every mention of the place drove her into a frenzy of grief and fear—if it did, what would be the use of trying to reclaim the property? But only time would tell. If she did not broach the subject herself, I would try again in a day or two after she had time to grow accustomed to the idea.

Since Melusine was still asleep when I had to leave, my duty requiring me to be in the king's outer chamber before he woke, I could do no more than tell Edna that Melusine should ask the queen to send for me if she needed me. I hope she did not need me, because I was away from Winchester soon after the king broke his fast. Stephen's spirits had been so elated by the defeat of the Scots that he cast aside all business and took those of his court that favored the sport off on a great hunt. Being in attendance as Knight of the Body, I had no choice but to go.

That solved—for a little while anyway—my troubles with sleeping beside Melusine. We were away three nights, two spent in hunting lodges and one in Alresford. I was not on duty that night, so I sought out a woman—a thing I doubt I would have done had my appetite not been whetted by my wife. Not that I had forgotten my little plan for inciting Melusine's jealousy, but it was safe to seek relief in a town miles from Winchester without asking permission. I paid to keep the woman with me all night and used her well, striving to leech all the hot spirits out of my body. And so I learned from a whore a second lesson I would never forget: Using the whore of London taught me that pleasure increases with caring, not with beauty; using the whore of Alresford taught me that the act of futtering does not reduce desire. The moment I laid eyes on Melusine, I was as ready as I had ever been.

If she had tried to find me and been angry at my absence, she had forgotten or put the anger aside. She seemed glad to see me; her dark eyes were bright when they found me, and she took my arm and clung to it as we all, huntsmen and stay-at-homes alike, trooped into the great hall to eat a much elaborated evening meal. For this meal there was no formality or precedence. Except for the king and queen on the dais, everyone seized food from the trays as they were borne about or set down and found seats where they could. The heads of the greatest kills were brought in—one of the boars was the king's but another, even larger, was mine—and Melusine smiled at me, glowing with pride, and joined the shouts of approval before asking, “Were you hurt?” Clearly she knew that wild boars were not easy to kill, and it warmed my heart that she should ask about my safety.

“A little bruised,” I replied. “I went over and the devil stepped on me before I finished him.”

“I will look to it later,” she said calmly.

I was strangely torn between relief and disappointment. I certainly did not want Melusine to express concern for me too openly before the whole court; to draw the eyes of others always makes me feel hot and desire to hide my face. But if she cared, would she not have sounded more anxious or tried to drag me away at once to make sure the hurt was not dangerous as Audris would have done?
I
knew I was telling the truth and had no more than a few bruises, but how could she know? Before I thought, I voiced the question, and Melusine laughed.

“Because I am not likely to misjudge a man's health no matter what he says. You rode here and were steady on your feet when you dismounted and you are eating well and with good appetite, so no great harm can have been done. I saw your color and the way you moved. I was only nine or ten years of age when I began to tend bruises and sew up rents in the hides of my bro—”

Her voice quivered and stopped, and she closed her eyes. I took her hand and said, “Melusine. Melusine, do not—”

She opened her eyes again. All the brightness was gone, but there were no tears. “You need not fear that I will fall to weeping again. I am sorry if I was a burden to you Monday last. You took me by surprise, and—”

“You were no burden,” I said quickly, cutting her off. “Never mind that. Tell me instead what you decided to do about Edna and how you have managed with the queen's ladies?”

She shook her head, and her full lips twitched, but she told me that she had decided to keep Edna, at least until we left, because she had been able to tell the queen that I had given her a fool for a maid and use Edna as an excuse to spend nearly all her time in her own chamber. I think she was annoyed with me for believing she would say too much in public, but I would rather have her annoyed than take the chance that word of my plan to visit Ulle would get back to the king or queen and I might be forbidden to take Melusine into Cumbria. I would have tried to pacify her, but I had no chance. The parade of the kills had signalled the end of the meal. Before Melusine could finish her tale, several men who had not accompanied the hunt came to congratulate me on my kill and stayed…to talk to Melusine.

She certainly knew how to please men, what to say to them to set them at ease, to draw smiles, and to manage the talk so that no one man had more than his proper share of her attention or the general conversation. I was more silent than I should have been; Melusine had to draw forth my voice more than once and I saw that the other men were looking at me and smiling. They would roast me well later and spread the word that I was jealous—but, odd though it may seem, I was not jealous.

I was glad to see Melusine's eyes gradually brighten as the talk and attention eased her grief. Perhaps I am not a jealous man, but it was also clear to me that Melusine was not trifling with the men around her; there was nothing in her manner to rouse a man's lust—unless the man was one of those who thought her beautiful, and even then I thought it unlikely for any to be tempted. I myself felt none of that hot rush of desire that had flooded over me several days ago in the queen's hall and in our bedchamber or even when she greeted me on arrival.

Rather than being jealous, I was stunned by her skill. I had seen no woman but the queen so able to control a group of men, and the queen was older and, when she wished, could enwrap men in a motherly warmth. As that realization came to my mind, I understood at once how Melusine pleased without stimulating. She was…sisterly. I recalled her desperate weeping as she recounted the roll of her losses; well, she had practice enough in being sisterly with seven brothers. But I also remembered that I had responded to her as a woman whenever we talked alone. Had her manner to me been different? If so, was that difference deliberate?

The very notion started a new rise of heat, and I forced myself to pay attention to the talk and participate in it more, meanwhile rising from the eating bench myself and moving Melusine away from the table. It was not long after that when the king and queen left the hall, and I could begin maneuvering our small group slowly down the hall toward the outer door. I made no haste, but Richard de Camville, a clever devil and a pleasant drinking companion (now that Audris was safe from him), became aware of what I had done when our slow progress stopped.

“That is a most tactful hint, Bruno,” he said, chuckling and directing the attention of the other men to the guesthouse across the yard. “But tactful or not, my friends, I fear we are being told that we are not wanted.”

“Clever man,” I remarked. “I knew I could count on you to save me. Gentlemen, Camville is seeing to the heart of the matter as he always does. You are not wanted. I have better company for this time of night.”

Although Melusine responded easily to the teasing comments made on parting by the other men, I sensed that what I had said had startled her and was making her uneasy. To shift the subject from what she feared without renewing my promise not to urge coupling on her, I said the first thing that came into my head, which was that I did want to talk of our journey north—I did not say to Ulle, fearing to set her grieving again—but that I did not wish to discuss it where a report of our plans might come to the ears of the king or queen. As I spoke, I could see the tension go out of her, and when I had finished she nodded.

“I am not a fool,” she said shortly, but without anger, and then, in the same indifferent voice added, “Take off your clothes and let me look at you.”

I gaped at her, associating what she said only with the jesting remarks I had made to rid us of our companions. I could not believe I had been mistaken in her almost fearful reaction, and this flat-voiced invitation was scarcely seductive, but a hope sprang up in me that despite her fear she wished to be fully my wife. Fortunately, I was frozen for a moment in the conflict of hope and disbelief, and Melusine cocked her head questioningly.

“I have seen you naked before,” she remarked. “There is no need to be coy.”

There was something in her voice that warned me that I had somehow misunderstood her, but my head was bemused by my rod, which had risen to attention, and I could only ask, “Then why do you want to look at me?”

Melusine had started to turn toward the door, but she stopped and stared at me over her shoulder, frowning. “To see if your bruises need salving. Do you not remember I said I would look at them later?”

My disappointment was profound but too mingled with amusement at how desire could wipe out of my mind what did not feed it to allow my rigid shaft to shrink. In the past I had tried to hide from Melusine the fact that she excited me. This time I thought it best to let her see my desire and show her too that I was not a slave to it, so I stripped off my clothes without more ado. She stood watching me as if she had forgotten that she had started to turn away, the puzzled frown still on her face; but that looked as if she had forgotten the expression too. When I was naked I found she had turned back to face me fully, and I smiled at her.