Breath of Heaven (16 page)

They would both pay. De Remy with his life and Eliane with bits and pieces of her body. The first thing he would take would be the tips of her ears and after that…he would just take whatever part tired him first.

He summoned one of his men to his side. “Ride ahead. Make sure there is a woman available for me when I arrive.” The man nodded wearily and spurred his horse onward into the snowy night. Renauld dropped his hand to the knife he wore tucked beneath his tunic as he shifted uncomfortably in the saddle. His throbbing cock would soon be sated and he would practice his plans for Eliane on whatever wench had the misfortune to find herself in his bed this night.

H
e had promised not to touch her unless she wanted him to. But there was no reason why he could not watch her. So watch her he did all during the day of bitter cold as they set out to answer the king’s summons.

Traveling with a wife was an eye-opening experience. It required a cart and a horse to carry a tent, bedding, household items, her wardrobe, and a maid named Khati, who was much more excited than her mistress about the summons to London.

Four men-at-arms wearing Aubregate colors and a boy from the forest named Jess, whose sole purpose was to carry messages to and from Aubregate, traveled with them. Rhys had yet to determine whether the boy had ears like Eliane’s, because he was wearing one of the woolen caps that Han seemed so found of.

Edward’s man Cedric traveled with them also. He’d sworn fealty to Eliane and, through her, Rhys and declared that he would continue his role as attendant to the Lord of Aubregate if it pleased Rhys for him to do so. Rhys had never had anyone beyond Mathias to look after his personal needs. The true test of Cedric’s worth would come at the end of the day when their camp had to be set up.

The day was waning. That time would soon be upon them. He motioned for Cedric. “Ride ahead with Mathias and see if he can find an acceptable place for
us to spend the night. I fear it has been a long day for milady and I would see to her rest.”

“I will see to milady’s comfort,” Cedric assured him, and the two rode on ahead, their horses plowing through the snow that had finally ceased falling the night before.

The snow made traveling with a cart difficult, but there was no help for it. He would not consider allowing Eliane to sleep without shelter, even though she assured him she was quite capable of doing so. Of her capability he needed no assurance. He’d marveled at it as he’d stood by her side during her father’s funeral and the swearing of fealty afterward.

Rhys found he had great doubts about his own capability. Not touching her was much more difficult than he’d imagined it to be when he made the promise. At times it was necessary to touch her. He’d taken her arm as they climbed the steps of the church for the swearing, placed his hands about her waist to help her from her horse as they came to the cemetery for Edward’s burial. It was also customary for a husband to serve his wife during meals, and this he did with great care as she watched him with those emerald eyes that were full of grief for her lost father. He could see the hurt in them, caused by his own brutal attack on their wedding night. How else would she consider it? It had been tantamount to rape. She’d had no choice but to submit.

She ought to anticipate their lovemaking eagerly and with passion. But would it ever be so? Rhys shook his head at the twisted trail his thoughts followed. He could not undo what was done. He could only hope that she would understand that completing
their union was the only way to ensure her safety against Renauld.

He turned in his saddle to check on the progress of his caravan. Four men-at-arms rode before him, two of Peter’s and two of his own. Eliane rode behind him, speaking earnestly with Salisbury. It was good that they talked. They had shared memories of Edward, for whom Peter had squired when she was just a child.

“How fares your wife, Peter?” Eliane asked.

“Lydia fares extremely well, especially when breeding. We have another child due in late spring.”

“How many does that make?”

“Four. Two sons and a daughter so far. Lydia hopes for another daughter.”

There are only daughters born to the women of Aubregate
…What would it be like to have a daughter by Eliane? To see her grow big from his seed…Once more Rhys stopped his musings. There would be no child until she chose to let it happen. He would not put her through the agony again. He could not stand to see that betrayal in her eyes.

“She has sent a gift for you,” Peter said.

“Indeed? That is kind, indeed, as we have never even met,” Eliane exclaimed.

“I admit I have told her much about you,” Peter said. He looked toward her hair. “Including the thing that makes you different from the women at court.”

Her hand went self-consciously to her ears. She should not have to hide her ears.
They are beautiful as she is.

“I do not know much about the fashions of women,” Peter continued. “But the current head gear does much to hide the hair and what lies beneath.” He pulled a
carefully wrapped package from beneath his cloak. “It is called a wimple.” He shrugged as if knowing what it was called would explain its purpose.

Eliane took the packet and dropped it into the pack attached to her saddle. She looked at Rhys with confusion plainly written on her face.

“I am certain you will know what to do with it once you look at it,” he said simply. “But I will leave the choice of whether you hide your ears or reveal them up to you. It matters not one way or the other to me.” Except that he would not see her hurt.

“We should camp soon,” Peter commented. “I fear the wind is ever increasing and with it the cold.”

“I sent Mathias ahead to find us a place. And Cedric to make sure it is practical.”

“ ’Tis a good way for Mathias to learn,” Peter agreed. “And Cedric is wise enough to let the boy think it through on his own. That is the way I learned from Edward.”

“I feel I do not spend enough time giving him the instruction he needs,” Rhys said.

“Is not the best way to learn by watching?” Eliane asked. “And asking questions? Mathias seems to have no fear of asking if there is something he does not understand.”

“Believe me, he has no fear of talking at all,” Rhys replied dryly, and once more her musical laugh brightened his day.

“A rider approaches!” one of the leading men-at-arms called out. Rhys and Peter immediately put hands to their swords, but it was only Mathias.

“I have found a place,” Mathias said eagerly as he rode up. “Not more than a mile ahead.”

“What thinks Cedric of your choice?” Rhys asked.

“He must approve, milord, or he would not have sent me back to tell you.”

“I will surely beat you,” Rhys said as Mathias grinned wickedly. “Only the fact that you are well padded at the moment and numb from cold keeps me from doing so.”

“Surely you will not,” Eliane exclaimed. “ ‘Twould serve no purpose except to warm him up, and that would be a reward on such a day as today.”

“It would also take too much effort.” Peter joined in the teasing. “It is hard to achieve a full swing when one’s arm is hindered by a cloak.” Mathias merely shook his head and made his way back to the front of the troop to lead them onward.

“My grandmother found neither her cloak nor her robes to be any hindrance at all,” Rhys said. “As she usually had some sort of weapon handy such as a stout stick or a willow branch, which was especially painful when applied to bare skin.”

“Rhys!” Eliane exclaimed. “Surely she did not.”

“Every chance she got.” Rhys shrugged. “Do not let it trouble you,” he said when her look conveyed her dismay. “It was simply the way of things. She was convinced I had the devil inside me and the only way to remove it was by beatings and prayer.”

“ ’Tis a shame she did not have Vannoy in her grasp,” Peter commented, then rode ahead.

“While Vannoy’s ways are not pleasing to me, I find I owe him much,” Rhys said softly with his eyes steady upon her face. Her concern for his childhood beatings heartened him. Could it mean that she cared for him somewhat, despite the horrible events of their wedding night?

“Whatever for?” Eliane’s curiosity was piqued.

“If not for him, I would never have met you.”

The campsite chosen by Mathias was tolerable. It sat in a hollow and was surrounded by trees, which would help break the wind. The branches were thick enough that the snow was not deep and a stand of yews had kept the snow from drifting into it. There was a stream that ran beneath a sheet of ice close by. Cedric had taken advantage of his time alone to snare several unsuspecting rabbits and had those roasting by the time the group arrived. The tents were quickly set into place, the horses cared for, and all concerned ready to seek their rest in whatever warmth they could find.

Eliane, with Llyr by her side, yawned from her seat by the fire. The dog yawned also and stretched as Khati went to Eliane’s side and whispered into her ear. Eliane nodded and with a gracious smile to the men about the fire followed Khati to the tent while the dog went off to sniff at the trees before retiring with his mistress. Eliane stopped for a word with Cedric, who nodded and pointed to a small tent at the opposite side of the fire. The boy Jess was rolled up in a fur-lined cape by the fire and the men-at-arms were visiting the trees to relieve themselves before seeking their rest.

“I have told William to set the guards.” Peter interrupted Rhys’s perusal of his bride as she went into the tent. “I will retire now. Shall we try for an early start?”

Peter was, no doubt, most anxious to see his wife. “Yes,” Rhys agreed. “I think I will check on Yorath before I sleep.” He used his horse as an excuse to avoid his wife.

Peter looked toward the tent where Eliane had
disappeared, then back at Rhys with a bemused expression on his face. “It seems to me that you have found exactly what you most wanted to avoid.”

Rhys well recalled their conversation on marriage, held after the king’s edict. “At least I did not have to choose a bride. I had one chosen for me.”

“Yet you still find yourself at the whims of another.” Peter chuckled as he made his way to his tent. “But still, there are benefits to be had.”

No benefits, more’s the pity.

The guards were set; the rest of the men found what warmth they could in the tent provided for them. Rhys went to check Yorath but kept his mind on his wife as he ran his hands over his steed’s legs and flanks.

What rituals did she have when she made ready for bed? Did Khati comb her hair? Did she apply lotions to her face and hands? Did she bundle up in woolen gowns and socks or did she prefer the cool feel of the sheets beneath heavy piles of blankets?

Rhys moved to the stallion’s head and ran his hand down the long nose. Yorath’s dark eyes flickered in the firelight and he tossed his head as Llyr padded silently up to them and sat down.

Rhys looked at the dog in surprise. It was the first time the beast had come to him and certainly one of the few times Llyr had not growled at him. “Have you come to the realization that we are stuck with each other?”

Llyr merely looked toward the tent.

“I hoped to delay until she was asleep. But now I find my need for warmth overtaking my need for prudence.” He took a step, then looked around. “Where is Mathias?” Neither animal had an answer. Rhys ran
his eyes over the campsite and realized he had not seen the boy since before dinner. Where had he gone?

Rhys ducked his head into Peter’s tent. “Has William seen Mathias?”

“Not since dinner, milord,” the squire replied sleepily from his pallet.

“Have you misplaced him?” Peter asked.

“Mayhap he is asleep with the men-at-arms,” Rhys said. “If not, I will call you to help search.”

“Here’s hoping that you find him. It is too cold a night for anything but sleep.”

Rhys checked with Cedric, who shared a tent with the men-at-arms and the guards. No one had seen Mathias since dinner. Rhys stopped to ask Jess, but the boy was sound asleep; the only thing visible beneath his furs was the tip of his nose and his woolen cap. Rhys went on to his own tent to ask Khati if she had seen Mathias.

The tent was cast in darkness, the only light coming from the fire beyond. The door of the brazier glowed with coals, and the floor around it seemed cluttered. He recognized the height of Elaine’s mattress to the side and was certain Khati was upon a pallet on the floor. He would bid her sleep with Eliane for warmth. But would the maid think it odd that he did not join his wife in bed? Would he embarrass Eliane before her servant?

Llyr passed him, taking a roundabout route to the mattress. Rhys realized why when he tripped, then caught himself before falling flat on his face. He peered down at what had tripped him and realized it was Mathias. He was sound asleep on a pallet and covered with his cloak and a blanket. Mathias snorted and rolled over onto his side. Khati giggled from her pallet.

Eliane sat up. The light from the fire beyond the tent wall illuminated her profile. “I bade him sleep inside,” she said in hushed tones. “There was no room in the other tent and it is much too cold outside for a boy.”

“Jess does not seem to mind.”

“Jess is accustomed to it,” Eliane said. “He does not feel the cold as we do.” That answered the question as to whether Jess’s ears were like Han’s and Madwyn’s and the rest of the mysterious forest folk.

Eliane lay down again and Llyr joined her, taking his customary place at the end of the bed. Rhys stepped over Mathias. With Mathias and Khati both on pallets, there was no place for Rhys to lie except beside Eliane on the mattress. He bumped his way around, realized that the thing caught on his ankle was a small stool. He straightened it, removed his cloak, and dropped it upon the stool. His weapons came next, and then he sat down upon the stool.

“The least he could have done was attend to me before he fell asleep.” His anger at Mathias was unjustified. The squire was just a boy and had done as he was bade by his lady.

“I am at fault,” Eliane confessed. “I saw he was weary. He did naught but obey my command.”

“Shall I attend to your needs, milord?” Khati asked sleepily.

My needs would send you screaming into the night
…

“Nay, Khati,” Eliane said. “I will see to my husband.”

“I can manage,” Rhys protested, and started on his laces. Elaine rose from the bed and came to him. She wore a thick linen gown of white and her heavy braid
hung over her shoulder. She knelt before him and he realized she was shivering with cold. Her hands tangled with his as she reached for the laces. She brushed his thigh, and his cock responded as it always did when she was near, coming to full attention. She was an innocent; she would not know what kneeling before him would do to his lustful body.
The devil inside me
…His grandmother’s beatings had done nothing to remove it.