Malia Martin (18 page)

“I would that I could take away your pain, Aleene. That I have hurt you like this, I shall never forgive myself.”

His lies struck a hurt so deep within her, Aleene cringed. “Do not dare, Robert!” Aleene spun around, her anger fueled by smoldering pride.

Robert did not move and so they stood very close. Aleene took a deep, shaking breath into her lungs, strengthening herself. “You come to my bed, witless, then bring invaders into my castle, heartless.” Her words held all the vehemence that pounded mightily through her veins. “And now, dear husband, you come into my chamber full of humility. I wonder how you shall be tomorrow?” Surging forward, Aleene brushed past Robert, knocking him aside.

“Out!” she yelled, opening the door. “Get out!”

Robert stared at the door then at her. “I
am
sorry. But know this, Aleene. If I do not return, I have William’s word that you shall stay unmolested here at Seabreeze.”

Aleene gripped the door with all of her might, her chest heaving with the fury that felt trapped there.

“If, on the other hand, your King Harold is victorious, you may return to your life of fighting tooth and nail for what is yours.” He left then without looking at her, and Aleene shoved the door closed behind him.

With a disgusted oath she raked her gaze over the chamber she had spent two days in.
Two days of wallowing in self-pity: not eating, not speaking, barely breathing. That
he
had reduced her to such a pathetic creature made her blood boil.

Aleene crossed the room quickly and stared again at the old Roman fort now teeming with another invader.
He
had made her weak, vulnerable, again. She had opened her heart and trusted. And this is what became of such stupidity.

Whirling away from the window, Aleene paced the floor, willing her thoughts away from her folly, her husband, and forcing them to formulate a plan. She would avenge the harm done her, the harm done to her people, if she died trying.

Robert stared through his mount’s ears at the road before him. His back ached, his back
side
was numb, and his heart seemed to be crumbling away with each step. William had split up his troops, leaving some to stay with the ships and fort, ferrying the foot soldiers across the harbor mouth and leaving the knights to ride around. All of them, of course, set on the same goal of reaching the land owned by the Abbey of Fecamp. Not knowing the area at all, William felt that he could defend his position better amongst friends.

Robert sighed largely and switched his reins from one hand to the other. The wind whistled through the trees around him, biting through the seams of his chain mail and making him shiver. Cold, he could add cold to his list of grievances.

And sad. A deep, soul-taking sad. Every town they passed through the men around him went mad, ransacking homes, taking food, killing men, raping women. It made Robert want to vomit. But he didn’t. He stopped the killing and raping where he could and shouted for the men to move on.

His long years as one of William’s most loyal knights suddenly seemed trivial. Never before had he questioned what he did. When he turned his back on the life his father meant for him, his great scholarly father who never believed in wars and fighting, Robert knew what he wanted was right for him.

His father felt words and knowledge to be the most important thing a person could own. Robert did not. He wanted land. He did not want to spend his life at the whim of others. He wanted land and the power to live his own life that land would give him.

But now, suddenly, he wondered if both he
and
his father were wrong. What was land, what was knowledge, what was anything, if one could not look deep inside oneself and respect what one saw?

With the thought of land and wealth guiding him, he had hurt another very deeply. From the very first night of his farce he had known that his new wife was a fragile creature. And he had begun to care for her, even as he set up the scene for her demise. If only he didn’t care. If only she had been some ugly termagant with a heart of stone.

It was his mother’s fault. Her caring nature had left its mark upon him. It was completely impossible for him to see a wounded creature and not feel the need to help it. Even as he shunned her way of life, and his father’s, he kept within him the values they had taught him from the time he could speak.

“Robert!”

The call from behind broke into Robert’s thoughts and roused him from his melancholy. With a great effort, he focused his mind on the task at hand and turned.

“Robert!”

A rider came pounding up the dirt track, red hair flying. Duncan.

“I need you to stay at Seabreeze, Duncan!” Robert said as his friend came abreast of him.
“I realize you don’t wish to, but I need someone who . . .”

“She’s gone, Robert, gone!”

Robert knew immediately who Duncan spoke of. Fear hit him first, before the anger. “And you come after me?” he roared. “You should have followed her! She could be killed, hurt!”

“I swear I’ve been lookin’ all night for her. She and her maid took off in a haycart. I haven’t been able to find a trace of ’em.”

“Damn!” Robert yanked the helmet from his head and plowed his dirty fingers through his hair. “They’ll be on their way to London, I’m sure.”

“Of course, she’ll be off telling that king of hers all the particulars she’s seen!”

Robert shrugged that off. “I’m sure many have gone running to tell their king what they
have seen. I worry not about that but about her safety.” Robert turned in his saddle and surveyed the men he led.

“Damn,” he said again softly. He stared ahead of him for a moment. “Take them north, Duncan.” Robert replaced his helmet and flipped his thumb toward the men. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Robert wheeled his mount around.

“What?” Duncan’s fiery brows shot toward his hairline. “You jest!”

“Never.” Robert leaned over his horse and dug his spurs in its side. They lunged forward, leaving Duncan swearing behind them.

He looked for them for two days, his back aching and his eyes stinging from lack of sleep. He was nearly killed twice, coming upon bands of men heading for London to join the forces against William, but he quickly lost himself in the dense forests.

It was the second night when he quite literally stumbled upon them. They had no fire, and he was upon their cart before he realized he had found somebody. For a heart-stopping moment he thought it might be another band of men. And then he made out the skirts of a woman’s tunic trailing from beneath the cart. Robert dismounted with a muffled oath, his legs nearly giving out beneath him, and crouched down carefully, peering through the darkness. There was a sound, whistling air, and a dark object in front of his face and then pain, fiery and intense, splintering through his head.

“Aaaaarrrrggghhh!” He fell backwards, his hand holding his nose. He could already feel sticky warm blood seeping through his fingers. The object came towards him once more, only this time he rolled away. It cracked heavily against the ground, sending up a light spray of dry leaves.

Robert rolled again, leaning up on his elbows and finally jumping to his feet. Whirling around, he looked straight into the dark eyes of his wife. She held a thick piece of wood over her shoulder, ready to swing another blow. Robert let go of his nose and held out his hands. “Halt, woman!”

She faltered at his words.

“’Tis me, Aleene, Cyne.”

Flinging the wood aside, Aleene spit at his feet. “Cyne? I know of no one by that name.” She stomped away. “You have interrupted my sleep, Norman. Be off with you!”

Robert took a deep breath, fighting the urge to run after Aleene’s weapon and beat everything within a fifty-yard radius to a pulp. His back ached, he hadn’t slept in days, and now his face was a throbbing mass of pain. He reached out and wrapped his fingers around Aleene’s forearm. “If you know what’s good for you, ye’ll not provoke me, woman.”

She tried to wrench her arm away, but he only tightened his grip.

“Let go of me.”

“Do you realize the danger you’ve put yourself in?” Robert managed to say through clenched teeth.

The murky darkness hid her intent. The first inkling Robert had that she had slapped him was the echo of flesh hitting flesh that reverberated in the silent forest. A tiny second later he felt the stinging pain in his cheek. “God’s teeth!” Robert let go of Aleene and stumbled backward.

“Danger?” she fumed, advancing on him. “Danger? I put
myself
in danger? Do not patronize me so, you disgusting excuse for human flesh.”

Every oath he had ever muttered poured through his mind as he turned away. He said
nothing, though, just stood with his eyes tightly closed, waiting desperately for his patience to return. His head rang, his nose throbbed, and his cheek stung. He wanted to break something.

“Go back to sleep,” he said finally. “Now.” He did not turn around, he didn’t trust himself. He didn’t hear anything, though, and knew she had not gone back to the cart.

“Milady, come along.” Berthilde’s voice reached him, and he relaxed a bit.

“I will not sleep with this man anywhere near us!”

He turned on his heel. “You will sleep here with no protection and men clogging the roads and not see a problem with that? But you take exception when I come to protect you?”

A disgusted snort of laughter came from Aleene. “It seems I had protection enough.”

“You think a plank of wood is going to stop someone with intentions far worse than mine?” Robert advanced on his wife, grabbing her arms and bringing her body flush with his. She struggled, but he held tight. She was a tall woman, and strong, and he had to exert much of his energy to keep her within his hold. “You, milady, need a lesson in your limitations.”

For some reason he could not fathom, Robert bent and took her lips in a bruising kiss. He wanted to show her how easy it would be for a man to overtake her, but seconds into the kiss his senses scattered and he only wanted her close. He could feel the ripe fullness of her breasts against him, and her long legs against his thighs, and he wanted her. The memories of those nights where he had to remain pliant as she drove his blood into a roiling boil came back to him and he deepened the kiss.

All thoughts of sensual bliss left his mind immediately with the pain that sliced through his tongue when her teeth clamped down. He pushed away with a loud yell.

“Oh, yes, you are to protect us?” his hellion of a wife sniffed. “You shall bring down every person in the vicinity upon us with your screaming. And then they shall kill us all for you are a Norman.”

Robert swore as he fingered his tongue and felt new blood against his fingertips. Then he whirled around and gave a tree a vicious kick.

“Let us retire, milady.” He heard Berthilde say to Aleene. “This shall do us no good, and we must be rested for our long journey on the morn.”

Robert swore again, his toes now throbbing in pain. William would be furious with him for leaving his post, the men were probably pillaging and raping right and left without his staying hand, and evidently Aleene truly needed him not. No man would have the patience to stick around and keep trying to do anything to such a shrew.

“When I awake, I want you gone, Norman!”

Robert kept his gaze on the tree that had probably broken his toes, but listened as Berthilde hustled his wife away. The sounds of settling down echoed around him, then silence. Robert stood there for a very long time, then slowly went to his horse, found his sword, and sat up against a tree. He kept himself awake by alternately sucking on his tongue, which stung, and pressing gently on the side of his nose, which still managed to trickle blood now and then.

He must have dozed off right after dawn, for he remembered watching the forest around him lighten from complete darkness into shades of gray. The next thing he heard was his beloved’s voice.

“I am awake, but you are still here.”

Robert bolted to his feet, his lids like sand against his eyes. Early morning sun filtered through the trees.

Aleene threw a wet rag at him. “Clean your face.” Then she turned to the cart where Berthilde sat waiting with reins in hand. The maid did not even look at him as Aleene jumped up next to her and they started out of the small clearing.

Robert watched for a moment before it registered in his foggy brain that they were actually leaving. He bent quickly, then, to retrieve the sword that lay on the ground where he had been sitting. The world rotated in a dizzy whirl when he straightened, but he made his way to his horse and mounted.

Through the long tiring day the two women in the cart did not acknowledge his presense. At one point they pulled out some dry bread and cheese, not bothering to stop and not bothering to share their bounty, although Robert was sure they could hear his growling stomach.

Finally, just as the sun began its final descent they stopped. Robert was just in front of them, his attention intent upon the forests around them, and he did not realize they did not follow him anymore until his wife yelled.

Robert whirled his mount around, ready to fight to keep safe the woman who had made his life a living hell in the last day. She stood in the road behind him, a tied bundle in her hands. He blinked and quickly checked everywhere he could see, his sword at the ready.

“You can go no further,” she said.

He frowned, taken aback when she came toward him. In reality he feared some new punishment awaited him at her hands. He could not take another whack to his head, and thanks to his mother’s careful teachings he could not find it within himself to retaliate against a woman.

“Here.” She shoved the bundle in her hands toward him. “Go on, take it. ’Tis only food.”

He bent to take the cloth-covered offering from her.

“You cannot continue. We are within Harold’s lands. Go now.”

He stared at her, but she averted her gaze.

“You could take me as your prisoner. ‘Twould probably make your way easier with your king.”

“Go!”

He watched as she worried her lip, her eyes dark pools of uncertainty. Then she turned quickly and made her way back to Berthilde. The maid stared at him. No uncertainty lived in her gaze, just pure hatred. The old woman slapped the reins against the tired pony and the cart moved slowly forward over the rutted road. Robert pulled back so they could pass, watching Aleene intently. She kept her face forward and never turned again.