Read To Touch The Knight Online
Authors: Lindsay Townsend
To Touch The Knight (19 page)
“The fine great lords in their castles are not without guilt. They feast and hawk and ride out in fine silks while the poor at their gates are left with nothing. Not even the scraps they feed to their lapdogs! God sees and punishes them, the pestilence reaches even them, for no tower or door can hold back the wrath of God!”
The crowd about moaned and nodded. Silently, Ranulf removed his cloak and wrapped it about Edith, covering her bright silks. “We should leave!” he hissed.
Edith said nothing, merely pointed to where Maria swayed with the rest, taking up the rising chant as if born to it.
“Death to the devil!”
“He stalks amidst us!” the preacher screamed, his eyes bulging with effort as he raked the heavens with his staff and cross. “The evil one is with us! In our food, when we do not share it. In our love of luxury! In the knights who play at war here while you, good people, toil and break your backs in the fields! Shame on them! Did Adam, the first man made by God, sit in a tower and leave his sons to labor alone? He did not! So why should they?”
Ranulf had heard more than enough. He shoved sideways through the mob toward Maria and whispered urgently to her, promising her much gold if she would come away.
“We need no gold in our new kingdom,” returned Maria, clapping her hands as the preacher spat another gobbet of words at gentlewomen and their liking for spices. “I will stay here.”
“Then your babe will be born here, for your shift is wet with blood,” said Edith roughly as she came alongside.
“For pity's sake, girl!” begged Ranulf, disliking Edith's ready lie but going along with it.
Maria chewed on her lower lip. “You must carry me,” she ordered Ranulf. “If I am so near my time, I must not walk.”
She was as large as a hut, so perhaps she thought her demand impossible, but Ranulf was already moving.
“Done!” He stretched his arms about her shoulders and beneath her knees, braced himself, and lifted. She was heavier than a sack of treasure and limper and smellier in his arms than a day-old fish, but he carried her with care, taking small steps to ensure that he did not trip.
His arms ached as they did in training by his twentieth step, and his back burned as it did after a day in the lists, but that was all right: they were leaving. They made good progress through the ranks, Teodwin leading, then him and Maria, then Edith. Breathing deeply to absorb the weight, Ranulf heard Edith ask urgently after the childrenâWhere were they and who was with them?âbut a shriek from the church porch raised the hairs on the back of his neck. He almost dropped the bulging maid, especially as she clawed at him to stop.
“The Holy Man is speaking to us!”
“Would he were not,” Ranulf growled, but a space had already opened around them as the people shrank back, reluctant to be tainted by what was coming next.
“Perhaps the high-and-mighty knight, the black knight, believes he knows more than God?”
Ranulf turned to face his tormentor and Maria squirmed in his arms. It was like wrestling with a man, except that he could not pound her. Edith also turned, but he snarled, “Look to your maid and leave this to me!”
He seized Maria's wrists and clamped her hands over her middle. “Think of your babe!” he hissed. Bracing her partly on his leg so he could handle her with one arm, he spoke to the crowd and the preacher.
“You asked me a question?”
He heard those close to him suck in deep breaths and felt Edith stiffen and start forward, clearly aching to speak, but he ignored all but the rabble-rouser.
The monk's face darkened. “Seize him!” he yelled, clearly furious at any kind of interruption and uninterested in any kind of debate. “Stop that spawn of the devil!”
Ranulf set Maria behind him and lashed out with his fist and feet, ruthlessly felling any who stood in his way. A shepherd dropped his crook and he snatched it up, swinging it like a club.
“Stop him!” shrieked the preacher again, but neither the shepherd nor peddlers wanted to close with him. Ranulf barged forward, flailing about with the crook and giving Maria a rough shake as she tried to bite his ear.
“Move!” he growled. “Be silent!” he warned Edith as she trotted alongside, her color high. Teodwin at least had sense and had slipped into the greater mass, working his way out of the tumult. Although at that moment the crowd were eerily silent. The preacher mouthed something he did not catch when he sensed a change, a movement, closer to hand.
Edith cried, “'Ware!” just as he brought up the crook and the tip of a sword skidded off the wood with a huge crack. As the knight swung again and four men-at-arms muscled through the people to join in the fray, he left Maria to Edith: these five, Sir Henry and his supporters, would set on him all at once.
“Fredenwyke!” Sir Henry missed, his strike going long. Ranulf ducked under the next sword cut, hearing the whine of the blade, and smashed his elbow into the bellowing mouth. Sir Henry toppled and he butted him with the crook as he sprawled.
Ranulf whirled round, jabbing with the crook, and two men-at-arms screamed, one clutching his bloodied nose, the second coiling into a ball, huddled around his battered groin. The other two backed off, giving Ranulf a clear way out of the mob.
He seized Edith's arm and hauled her along.
“Maria!” she gasped, but at this point he did not care if the maid came or not: this brief gap would close like water over a drain and then they would all go down.
“Move!”
He stalked back a pace and grasped a handful of Maria's curls. Near her time or not, it was time she used her legs. “Get going!”
The maid shrieked as loud as the preacher had done but she obeyed, trotting as he dragged her by the hair. Ranulf stalked swiftly, expecting a knife at his back any moment, but the crowd was already closing on the fallen men-at-arms.
New, urgent screams rent the churchyard behind them, and now Maria was waddling as fast as she could.
“In here!” Edith had found the priest's house open and empty. They piled into the little low-thatched dwelling and, an instant later, Teodwin burst in, too.
“No one saw us enter!” he gasped, to Ranulf's barked question.
As Maria sank sobbing onto the rushes, Edith closed the door, standing with her back to it. “Was that well done?” she asked.
Ranulf ignored her, threw down the crook, and looked about for some ale.
“I could have got us out,” she said.
“Our lord brought us here to safety!” protested Teodwin. He, not Edith, found Ranulf a cup and some fresh, young wine.
Edith tugged down her veil. Her face was white with shock and anger. “I could have done it,” she repeated. “Without harm and without danger. Your way could have found us ripped to shreds by a mob!”
Ranulf raised his cup in a mocking salute. “You did not need to thank me, Princess, although that would be more courteous. Your way would have been through lies. Mine is better.”
“Ohh!” She launched herself at him, but he smothered her clumsy arms-and-legs attack by simply gathering her in.
“Peace,” he warned, as she tried and failed to knee him. “I have had a trying morning so far and have no appetite for nagging.”
He spotted the priest's pallet and sat down on it with her, offering the wine, which she stiffly refused. “More for me, then,” he said.
He had won. He had brought them out. So why did this not feel like victory?
Chapter 26
Edith sensed his disappointment. A new weight of dread settled into her belly and bones, making her feel heavy and inert.
He dislikes me. Soon he will despise me. I am losing him
.
.
How can I win him back?
She had played the only coin she had: her body. Now he had enjoyed that, she had nothing more to offer.
I am losing him!
Close to her feet, Maria gave a low moan and tried to rub at her back.
“I ache everywhere,” she complained. “No thanks to some.” She thrust out her lower lip and glowered at Ranulf, who did not notice. He was steadily drinking, filling and refilling his cup.
Edith looked at Maria properly for the first time that morning. She looked weary but her eyes were very bright. She had taken no obvious hurt from Ranulf's mauling, although Edith was ashamed that she herself had said nothing when he had yanked on Maria's hair.
He would not have done that to a lady, would he?
But she was obsessing again about Ranulfâhis thoughts, his actionsâand she should be paying heed to more. She drew back from Ranulfâhe let her go with a shrugâand padded to the door. Listening, she could hear no sound of any approaching mob, which gave them a little time, at least.
She crossed back to Maria. “Let me see. I can help.”
Luckily, Maria was used to her touching her, accustomed to her checking the position of her babe within. As Edith massaged the rigid muscles of her maid's back, she felt over Maria's belly.
Her breath stopped. She felt again, to be sure, then glanced at Ranulf.
At once he stopped drinking and came to her. “What do you need?” he asked softly.
If she had believed in God, she would have thanked him then for that heartfelt response.
“Gather the rushes together here. If you can find a hearth and build up the fire, that will be good. Alsoâmay I have the rest of the wine?”
He nodded. “It is yours.” He jerked his head at the squirming maid.
“The baby's head is on her,” Edith mouthed, hoping he was not the kind of man to start howling or panicking or shouting.
He raised his eyebrows in surprise, then began to kick and gather the rushes as she had asked into a rich, deep nest.
Edith drew Maria to it, saying, “Come, sweetheart, you will be more at ease if we loosen your gown.”
Teodwin opened his mouth, saw Ranulf's glower, and mumbled, “I will see if there is a well nearby.”
“Let no one see you,” warned Ranulf.
“Do you wish to go with him?” Edith asked as she untied the last of Maria's lacings, but he shook his head.
“I would not have you by yourselves here. What if the priest returns or someone else comes?” He stepped into the shadows of the hut and returned with a bucket, for which Edith wanted to kiss him.
Simple, practical help, without fuss. Here was another side of her lord.
By now, Maria was scowling. “I know not what is amiss with me. I think I have soiled myself.”
“Do not worry,” Edith said easily. “Squat over this bucket nowâignore the menfolk, they are busy elsewhere and can always turn their backsâthat's right!”
A spasm of pain crossed Maria's face and she reached out with her hands, gripping Edith's arm in a grasp so tight as to be painful.
“Count for me,” Edith coaxed, realizing that Maria was even further along than she had guessed. She whipped up the woman's skirts, shoved the bucket aside, and got behind her, supporting her as Maria went into a crouch. “Count, Mariaâ”
Her mother had taught her that: it gave the birthing mother something to think on and encouraged her to breathe in and out as she spoke.
“One, two, threeâ”
Maria's face turned bright red and she sagged against Edith's arms. “Fourâah!”
“Push again, sweetheart, you are almost there!” Edith encouraged. She had wanted to wash Maria's birth parts and her own hands with the wine, but there was no time; the babe was
here
.
here
.
“Five!”
An unearthly wail seemed to issue from the rushes, but Ranulf, crouching swiftly, caught the emerging, red-faced, slippery bundle.
“A healthy girl!” he announced as Maria collapsed back against Edith and Edith, unable to bear her weight, fell back onto the rushes. “Safe and sweet and whole.”
Edith felt Ranulf's eyes on her and knew he was thinking, as she was, of the half-fashioned child Many had given birth to. This time, there would be no secret burials. This was a miracle from the beginning.
She tore off her head-veil and passed it to Ranulf who, like all men at a birth, was starting to look bemused and rather panicked.
“Wrap her in this. I will tend Maria and then they should both rest.”
“I think we are all due that,” muttered Teodwin from the doorway.
Edith turned to see to the afterbirth and ensure Maria was not bleeding overmuch, although in truth she had never known an easier birth.
“Lucky,” she murmured.
“Or blessed,” Ranulf corrected her. He kissed the whimpering baby, who quietened at once, staring back at him with bright blue eyes.
Edith chuckled at his look of amazement. “Pass her to her mother,” she reminded him. Maria was snug on her side in the rushes, yawning and holding out her arms for her child.
Ranulf lowered the tiny baby girl beside the maid, murmuring something that to Edith sounded like a prayer. When he knelt back he caught her eye and gave her a winkâthis swift, happy birth had brought them together again, united them in a common purpose.
Her heart soared as high as a lark in summer; foolishly, she wanted it to last forever. “How long do you think we can stay here?” she asked, hoping he would say, “A week.”
He cocked his head, listening to the distant roar outside. “Till sunset? I think there will be preaching until then.”
“Pray God nothing more than that,” said Teodwin as Maria cooed and gurgled at her newborn.
“Amen,” said Edith.
“Edith,” said Ranulf, “come with me now to gather firewood and kindling. We can light a small, clear fire here and be more at ease. We shall not go far,” he added to the anxious Teodwin. “Have you some men with sense back at your camp?”
The steward nodded, counting off on his fingers as he reckoned how many of the former villagers had “sense,” as Ranulf termed it.
“Excellent! My men have their wits about them, too; they will scour hereabouts and find us presently. We need only wait.”
He held out his hand to her and smiled. “Come.”
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