Keeper of the Stone (3 page)

“What is your name?” He demanded in his deep, autocratic voice.

“Lady Rhiann.” She replied quietly though she was unsure whether or not it was proper for her to still use the title of lady.

She missed his narrowed glance.  “Whose daughter are you?”

He didn’t even know who she was, whose life he stole. Why the knowledge surprised her, she wasn’t sure.  Why it angered her, she guessed she knew.  Everything angered her these days.  “The Duke of Weston’s.” Rhiann wondered if perhaps she offended the Norman duke by not placing the word former in front of her father’s title.  Thank God he was not alive to witness this final humiliation at his enemy’s hands.

“Where is your mother? I instructed the duke’s entire family be brought to London.”

“My mother is dead.”  Rhiann was surprised by the lack of emotion in her voice.

“Dead?  How?”

Rhiann was unable to keep the disbelief from her expression or the bitterness from her reply.  “By a Norman sword. Would you like me to detail her injuries for you?”

Shocked gasps at her audacity filled the hall.  The king’s eyes flashed angrily but he swallowed his instinctive reaction and warned instead. “I will forgive your insolence because of your youth and the great trials you have obviously suffered.  However, I would advise you, Lady Rhiann to keep a closer watch over your tongue.”

Rhiann released the smoldering breath she was holding and nodded bitterly.  Seeing her surrender he asked, “How old are you?”

Rhiann thought the inquiry bizarre under the circumstances but she answered honestly, “Six and ten.”

The king considered this information for a moment, “I was under the impression the duke’s daughter was older.”

Rhiann wasn’t certain if the king was accusing her of lying or if he was unaware her father sired two daughters.  “I imagine you are referring to my older sister.”

“Where is your older sister?” Rhiann dropped her glance beneath his.  In truth, she could not know for certain but she felt in her heart her sister was dead.  “She is dead.”

The king sat back in his chair, absorbing her news. “Your father, your brothers?”

“Dead.” Rhiann barely recognized the hollow voice responding to the king’s questions as her own.  She was forced to swallow the lump in her throat and bite down hard on her bottom lip to keep from crying out. Could he not just pronounce her sentence and be done with it?  Why these endless questions? 

She swayed unsteadily on her feet and would have fallen but for the quick action of the knight who followed her across the hall and now stood close behind her.  Forgetting for a moment he was her enemy she smiled gratefully at him then pulled away when she regained her balance.  She did not wish to embarrass herself by fainting at her enemy’s feet but if she was not allowed to sit down soon she was going to do exactly that.

“We will discuss the matter of your future after you have rested.” The king announced, not unkindly.

Rhiann quickly lifted her head to regard him with a quizzical glance.  The matter of her future?  Was her execution something needing discussion?  Her thoughts were so thick and fuzzy in her head she was having difficulty thinking straight.  She was barely conscious of the king summoning a servant to take her to her room.  Room?  Should she not be assigned a cell?

“You will rest from your ordeal, Lady Rhiann and change your gown and join us for the evening meal.” Rhiann made no effort to stifle the bitter laugh at the king’s pronouncement.  At his sharp glance she explained.

“If you would like me to change, sire, you will have to provide me with suitable attire.”

“Why is that? Where is your travel bag?  Was there some mishap on the road?”

This time Rhiann swallowed her sarcasm in time. “No, sire, we met with no mishap to my knowledge. However, my escort informed me if I were to attempt to remove any personal items from my father’s estate I would be labeled a thief, a crime apparently punishable by death under Norman law.”

She was aware of his quick glance to the skies as if begging God for some much-needed patience, an action that brought her father to mind, but he merely replied in a mild tone.  “I will see to it you are suitably clothed this evening.”

She nodded and then at a curt nod from the king, the housekeeper approached and led her out of the hall and up a wide staircase to the second floor.  The room she was led to was spacious and well furnished.  She was surprised to be given chambers which she guessed were normally reserved for important guests, but she was too tired to question the housekeeper.  The room was cold after the relative warmth of the crowded hall and when an involuntarily shiver passed through her the older Saxon woman quickly lit a fire in the large stone hearth.

“I imagine you would like a nice hot bath.”  The housekeeper suggested as she bustled about, pulling drapes and turning down the bed.  She went to the door to order a servant to see to Rhiann’s bath, all the while keeping up a steady stream of conversation. “You must be starved as well, traveling on your own with a bunch of men.  You would have thought one of them would have the sense to see to it your maid accompanied you, but if they could not be bothered to display the courtesy of bringing a traveling bag for you, I suppose it is too much to expect they would realize a lady would have need of her maid.”

The older woman gently pushed Rhiann down on the thick bedding and helped her with the ties of her cloak.  She helped her stand once more to assist in its removal then pushed her back down on the bed.  When the bath arrived moments later, the housekeeper disappeared for a few moments and returned carrying soaps and oils for her bath.  She helped Rhiann undress and watched as she carefully stepped into the large tub, then assisted her as her fingers struggled to loosen her thick braid and wash her long hair. 

Rhiann was so tired after her bath and being wrapped in a large soft cloth warming by the fire she barely managed to swallow any of the food on the tray sent up for her.  The older woman led her to the bed and gently lifted her legs and tucked her warmly beneath the thick quilt.  Rhiann whispered a thick thank you, her words as muddled as her thoughts.  Her last conscious thought was filled with confusion.  Why are they being so nice to me?

CHAPTER FOUR

Nathan was in the great hall when Lady Rhiann was brought in.  His friend, Baron Bruce, was given the task of assuring the lady arrived safely.  Bruce was called away from his escort by a more urgent mission and sent a young contingent of knights to see to the safety of the duke’s family on their way to London.  Bruce gasped audibly when the lady revealed her mother was killed by a Norman sword, and then turned a shocked glance in Nathan’s direction when the lady informed the king his men had not allowed her to pack a traveling bag. 

“Was it necessary for me to instruct them to see to it the lady traveled with sufficient gowns for the road and for her stay here?” His urgent whisper was filled with disbelief at his men’s stupidity.

Nathan grinned sympathetically in response. He experienced his own trials with his youngest knights during the course of the invasion.  Like most young men on their first foray into war, they were an unpredictable mix of too much brash ego accompanied by too little common sense. Despite his shared empathy he still could not resist teasing Bruce about his own difficulties.

“Do you think one of your men was responsible for the death of the duchess?”

Bruce raised a horrified glance to Nathan’s smiling face, the thought apparently just occurring to him.  “If they were, I will refrain from offering even a mild protest when the king decrees the idiot responsible meet a similar fate.  I might even volunteer to carry out the execution myself.”

Nathan’s eyes lit with amusement, but he swallowed his laughter, not wanting to interrupt the king’s questioning. “I doubt that will be necessary.  I am quite certain the lady herself would be only too happy to carry out the king’s judgment.” 

Nathan didn’t blame her. Young Lady Rhiann was obviously sorely treated by her escort.  She almost fainted during the king’s questioning about her family – whether from hunger or exhaustion he could not be certain.  Her face remained hidden beneath the dark cloak she wore.

“Baron Bruce.” William’s voice interrupted their speculations. Nathan raised his hand to smother the discreet cough he used to disguise the amused bark of laughter that escaped him at the king’s summons.

“Yes, my lord.” Bruce threw a sharp, annoyed glance in Nathan’s direction before hurriedly approaching the king.

“I believe your men were responsible for escorting Lady Rhiann to London?” Paradoxically, the monarch’s mild tone only served to emphasize his extreme displeasure.

“Yes, my lord.”

“It would appear the lady is without suitable attire for the evening meal.”

“Yes, my lord, forgive me.  I will see to it Lady Rhiann has a gown to wear this evening.”

“And since it was your men responsible for the lady finding herself in such reduced circumstances, please see to it she has everything she needs for her comfort as befits her status as a guest in my home.  Apparently your men did not see fit to allow the lady’s maid to accompany her, so I suggest you see to that as well. I imagine one of the local women would be willing to serve in such capacity for the generous wage you will no doubt be offering.”  After voicing his displeasure, the king waited for his vassal to bow his assent and then dismissed him.

At the conclusion of the meal Nathan was summoned to the king’s private drawing room.  “You summoned me, my lord?” 

Though the two men’s long acquaintance matured into a solid friendship as the years passed Nathan never forgot he was merely the younger son of a lesser Norman noble while William was his liege lord to whom he owed not only his allegiance but his very life.  Nathan was placed in William’s household as a young man.  As his father’s second son he would inherit neither his father’s title nor his lands and he would therefore be forced to make his own way in the world.  All he had to rely on was his physical strength, his intelligence and a fierce determination to succeed. 

It was the latter trait that attracted William’s attention. The duke developed a fondness for the young man Nathan had been and applauded his desire to better himself.  William placed Nathan in the hands of his personal guard for training. Determined to take advantage of any and every opportunity provided him, Nathan trained hard and excelled as a young soldier, and was soon given command of a contingent of men.  He expected the soldiers under his command to be better than any titled nobleman’s knights and welcomed into his ranks younger sons and bastard sons whose determination to better themselves matched his own.

  His reputation as a leader of men grew and he was given greater responsibility within the duke’s realm.  He proved his unswerving loyalty on the field of battle.  He proved his superior judgment in handpicking his men by their relentless, merciless precision in battle.  The defeat of the Saxon challenger to the throne made William a king.  Nathan harbored a secret hope it would make him a landowner. 

William had already awarded many of his supporters with lands of their own.  Of course the majority of these were wealthy nobleman in Normandy.  They supplied ships, paid mercenaries and horses in support of the war effort. All Nathan could offer the duke were his arms, his blood, and the swords and loyalty of his highly trained men.  Not an offering to be dismissed lightly but certainly no match for the hundreds of ships other, wealthier lords could deliver.

“Come in, Nathan,” William was saying.  “There is a matter I wish to discuss with you privately.”

Nathan entered the richly appointed room and sat in the chair William graciously offered.  His father, while a landed lord, was not a particularly wealthy man.  Nathan was raised in a gentleman’s home.  His mother insisted all of her sons be familiar with the ways of the world in the finest households. So he knew his manners were acceptable; a fact he silently thanked his mother for the numerous times he was required to spend the evening in the company of the duke and the highest members of the Norman nobility.  At least he never embarrassed himself by making the kind of mistake that would mark him as a poor country soldier lacking in the trappings of a gentleman. He suspected he was accepted among the ranks of the landed lords more easily because he could so easily pass as one of them.

“I am faced with a bit of a dilemma,” William remarked.

Nathan remained silent. After their long years together he was acquainted well enough with his liege lord to recognize when he was merely thinking out loud.  When he wished for a response from Nathan, he would ask a direct question. “You were present in the hall when Lady Rhiann arrived?”

“Yes.”

“I originally intended to award the former duke’s holding to Robert or Baron Brice,” William explained, referring to two rich noblemen with already extensive holdings in Normandy.  “Both men are widows and it is time they remarried.  The duchess would need a strong man to protect her estates and I believed her marriage to a Norman lord would provide a calming influence on the Saxon inhabitants to see the duchess retain her former status.”

Nathan nodded.  He was aware of William’s plan to marry his single knights to Saxon ladies to keep the peace in his new kingdom. Nathan thought the idea a brilliant one.  Intermarriage would make it difficult to sustain the resistance for long when the sons and daughters of the new nobility would be half Norman and half Saxon.

“However, it appears the duchess is dead, though I intend to discover how it was she met her death by a Norman sword.  I cannot believe any of my men would act in such a reckless manner, particularly when I ordered the duke’s family be brought to London with all due haste.”

When William looked expectantly at Nathan, he replied honestly. “I cannot believe any of Brice’s men would be capable of putting a sword through the duchess.”

The king sighed heavily. “Unfortunately war causes men to do things they would not ordinarily be capable of, but the lady’s death and that of her older daughter leaves me with Lady Rhiann’s future to settle and the duke’s estates to award.  I believe we have exacted a high enough toll on the lady, I will not ask her to wed a man old enough to be her father.  So my friend, I decided to award the duke’s estates to you, assuming you’re willing to wed Lady Rhiann?”