The Conqueror (Hot Knights) (11 page)

She moved away. The miller’s harsh whisper made her stop in her tracks. “What of the rebels?” he hissed. “Are they not going to come and save us?”

Edeva whirled, and then glanced around the hall. There was no sign of any knights within listening distance, but her heart still pounded in her chest. She glared at the miller. “I know nothing of any rebels, nor of their plans.”

She went to where the kitchen women were gathered. They moved aside as she approached, and she saw stout Edwina lying on one of the benches, her singed forearm cradled against her chest.

The woman struggled to sit up. “I put some lard on it,” she told Edeva, “but ooh, it hurts yet.”

“Lie down and rest,” Edeva said. “I will fetch some healing salve after I examine Wulfget.”

Edeva’s body went tight with worry at the sight of Wulfget. The young woman’s face was ashen, her breathing weak and shallow. Edeva bent over her and felt the thready, faint pulse at her neck. Guilt tightened around Edeva’s neck like a noose. She was responsible for Wulfget, had promised the young woman’s parents that she would be safe. If she had warned the Norman about her brothers’ plan, she might have prevented this.

She looked toward the doorway. Soon the men waiting behind the granary would realize that she did not mean to bring their quarry to them, and they would attack. She must find a way to stop them.

“Rest now,” she said hurriedly to Edwina. “I’ll be back anon.”

She left the hall and found the Norman leader outside, surrounded by a dozen knights.

“How fare the wounded women?” he asked.

“I fear that one of them is quite ill from the smoke.”

He nodded.

From the shadows nearby, the man Fornay spoke, “And where have you been, Lady Edeva? Why are you not fighting the fire? ’Tis your home that is threatened.”

“I was seeing to the injured.”

“You were not around when we rescued them. Even stranger, you were not in the hall when the alarm was sounded for the fire.” He looked to Brevrienne. “Jobert commented on it, did you not?”

The Norman’s gaze pierced Edeva and her throat went dry. Now was the time to tell him about the rebels. But she could not. He and his men would kill her brothers and the rest of them.

“I must leave the fortress,” she said. “The miller’s wife told me of some herbs she has that make a soothing salve for burns. Besides Edwina, there will likely be others who suffer burns this night.”

“Are there no simples and salves in the bedchamber upstairs?” the Norman asked.

“Not like this. The miller’s wife told me about this special preparation only a moment ago.”

The Norman frowned at her. “You mean to leave the palisade? Now?”

“Oh, she is clever,” Fornay sneered. “She leaves the fortress and then the rebels attack. No doubt it is some sort of signal.”

“You cannot go alone,” the Norman said.” ’Tis not safe.”

“I don’t mean to go alone,” Edeva answered. “I want you to accompany me.”

“This is richer yet.” Fornay gave a mirthless laugh. “Now she plots to lead you into an ambush.”

“I’ll take Rob and Hamo,” the Norman said. “We’ll be fully armed. I don’t think a handful of Saxons can defeat us.”

“What if there are more than you expect? Nay, my lord! You cannot risk this!”

“Nothing would please me more than to draw the cowards from their forest den where they skulk. They are like a burr in my flesh. I know they wait and watch for their time. I would fight them now and have done!”

Edeva took a deep breath. ’Twas a risky thing she did. By convincing the Norman leader to leave the fortress, she might deter her brothers from attacking. It appeared that they desired his death most of all.

On the other hand, her brothers might see this as their best chance of taking the fortress. If Brevrienne returned to find the palisade in the hands of the enemy, he would never forgive her.

“I would not wait, my lord,” she said. “Edwina is in grievous pain, and I would bring her some relief. Detain me no longer, I beg you.”

“We go,” he said.

T
he night was cold and clear, the black velvet sky adorned with glittering stars, like an unharvested field rampant with poppies and cornflowers. Jobert breathed deep of the crystalline air outside the palisade, eager for a breath not tainted by the noxious reek of smoke.

A shame about the kitchen shed. He’d enjoyed the first truly fine meal he’d had in months. Now the source of that delicious repast stood a blackened ruin.

Not for a moment did he believe it was a chance fire, set by a spark from oven or spit. ’Twas clearly part of a larger plan to distract him and his men.

Yet, the Saxons had not attacked. Why?

He could not fathom the enemy’s motives. If the blaze were set to draw them out of the hall and into the unprotected yard, then it made no sense that the enemy took no advantage of the situation.

Unless they had another plan—mayhaps for the woman to lure him and his men out of the palisade and then strike.

Jobert’s caution increased, as did his wariness toward Edeva. He’d believed her resigned to having Normans control her home. Now he feared she plotted and schemed like the most hardened of soldiers. How far would she go to dislodge him from Oxbury?

The thought made his stomach clench. He and his men might be walking into a trap. Even full armor would not protect them from a large force of attacking Saxons. Ten men or less they could fend off. More than that, they were doomed.

Why did he go? Why follow the woman to what might be his death? Was it because he wanted so desperately to be wrong? To find that she cared for him?

Only the most green-gilled squire would risk his life on a woman’s soft heart. And this was not some tender maiden, but a fiery, determined Saxon. What little softness Edeva had shown him had been drawn out of her as a barber pulls an aching tooth. Why could he not accept the truth—that she hated him and wanted him dead!

He glanced ahead, taking in her proud silhouette. She still wore that splendid dress. Though it might be smoke-scented and soiled, and its golden glow hidden under her mantle, that did not diminish his memory of how she looked in it. Like royalty. A provocative, alluring princess. An enchanting beauty who made his cock grow hard and his head spin.

He moved closer to her, thinking that if he survived this night, he would not be put off any longer by her skittish behavior. She had let him bed her once, and he would see that she did so again. He had been too long the courteous, patient knight. ’Twas time he forced her to accept what was between them.

His men’s footsteps sounded heavily behind, and Jobert suddenly regretted taking an escort. There were things he needed to settle with the woman, and he wanted to do it without three pairs of eyes looking on.

He paused on the pathway. They were near the village. If they were going to be attacked, ’twould be soon. “Go on ahead,” he told his men. “Search the area and make certain no one lies in wait for us.”

“But milord,” Rob exclaimed, “what of you and the lady?”

“She and I have something to discuss.”

Edeva felt the breath leave her body as the knights disappeared into the shadows. This was the moment she had dreaded. The Norman meant to confront her with her deception.

He moved closer. His hand came up and rested on her neck. With his other arm he drew her against him. She could feel the heat of his body, the strength. He leaned down so his breath wafted gently against her cheek. “Where are the rebels?” he whispered. “Do they watch us now? Will you betray me with a kiss?”

His lips lightly brushed hers. Edeva’s nipples immediately tightened and her loins grew hot.

He released her and stepped away, watching her.

She felt his gaze upon her like blades thrown through the dark, and her body responded with sharp quivers of longing. In the midst of the horror of this night, her desire for this man would not abate. It hummed through her flesh, an ache only he could soothe.

She longed to forget all else—her brothers, the other Normans, the servants and villagers. Banish everything from her mind except the red-haired knight. Succumb to the thrilling hunger he aroused. Surrender to the dangerous passion she saw in his eyes.

“Jobert,” she whispered, savoring the foreign, mysterious sound of his name. “I do not betray you.”

He released his breath in a sigh, then drew her close and bent his head to kiss her. His lips felt luxuriously warm, his chest so strong and comforting. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned into him. One of his thighs pressed between her legs, rubbing against her heated groin. Edeva moaned.

“Damn my wretched mail,” he muttered between rough kisses. “I wish we were alone, and I could take you into one of these cottages, find a bed and make you mine.”

Edeva mumbled some breathless assent.

He fumbled under her mantle, searching for openings in her clothing.

“Brevrienne? Ah . . . excuse me, sir, but we’ve searched the village, and all is quiet.”

Jobert swore, then released her. “Thank you, Rob,” he said in a tight voice. He took her hand. “Shall we go now and find that damnable herb you need so badly?”

They walked quickly to the miller’s house. One of the knights opened the door for Edeva while another held the torch, lighting her way.

She looked around the main room of the dwelling and wondered where the miller’s wife kept her simples. Or, if she had any. Such a timorous creature as Azelina might well wring her hands and run to her mother to treat the slightest ailment.

The torchlight drew Edeva’s gaze upward to the loft. Most women kept their simples and herbs either with their foodstores or near their beds. Since she knew Azelina to be a poor cook, that left the other option.

She began to climb the ladder. The wooden rungs creaked. Behind her, she heard the groan of a heavier step as the Norman followed her.

“Can you see?” he asked as she reached the top.

“Yea, well enough.”

There was a straw pallet well padded with blankets and cushions. Next to it stood a large chest. Crouching over to avoid hitting her head on the sloping eaves, Edeva opened the chest.

Only the barest traces of torchlight reached this far, so she had to examine the contents by feel. Clothes. A leather bag that appeared to contain jewelry. Another bag, soft to the touch, containing tiny seeds.

She opened it and inhaled. A familiar but indefinable fragrance tickled her nostrils. She could not discern what it was, especially without looking at the color of the seeds. But no one could deny that it was a herb of some kind.

“I have found it,” she said.

She turned and saw Jobert, his head and broad shoulders rising above the top of the ladder. “Come down now,” he said. “Unless you wish to try the miller’s bed for comfort.”

“You’ll hit your head if you try to come up,” she answered. The heated promise in his voice made her breathless.

He made a sound of frustration, and then backed down the ladder.

They walked back to the manor. No one spoke. The tension hovering over them earlier remained, but in a different form. Edeva’s whole body throbbed with unfilled longing.

At the gate, they were met by Fornay and the other guards. “Nothing happened?” he asked, sounding incredulous.

“Nay. She retrieved her herbs as she said she would.”

“They must have been scared off for some reason. I cannot believe—”

“Forget it, Alan,” the Norman said. “Let the rest of the Saxons leave. The danger has passed, and they will want to return to their homes.”

“Should we not search them?”

“You think they rob us?”

“Of course. The thieving wretches will try to take all that is not nailed down or guarded!”

“So they steal a loaf of bread or a chicken. We have food to spare.”

“I speak of weapons and valuables.”

Jobert turned toward Edeva. “Then they rob from their mistress. What say you?” he asked, looking directly at her. “Do we search your people as they leave?”

She shook her head. “Nay. I do not think they will take overmuch. They have seen your generosity, and they will trust you not to let them starve with winter.”

“And the weapons?” he asked. “Do you think they steal arms from us?”

“Surely they can see you will look to their defense better than they could themselves.”

“Jesu, you cannot take her word for it!” Fornay complained.

“We have no proof that she has done anything deceitful,” Jobert said.

“She left the hall before the alarm was even sounded, and she has no good explanation for where she went.”

Edeva went rigid, wondering if Fornay would ruin everything. To her relief, Jobert answered, “She does not have to make excuses every time she leaves my side.”

“But milord... ”

“No more,” Jobert said. The tone of his voice brooked no argument.

“I must go to the hall,” Edeva said. “The herbs require some preparation.”

“While you are there, tell the villagers that they are free to leave the palisade.”

“What of the miller?” Fornay demanded.

Jobert rubbed his jaw. “I suppose I should punish him. Not for his quarrel with Jocelyn, but for lying to me.” He put his hand on Edeva’s arm. “What do you recommend, lady? If I show him mercy, do you think he will cease his struggle against my will?”

“If you keep your soldiers from his wife, I think he would gladly do whatever you ask.”

He nodded and released her. “’Twill not be easy. Jocelyn appears to have a genuine fondness for the wench. But the miller’s services are valuable to Oxbury. I will ask Jocelyn to turn his attentions elsewhere.”

Edeva excused herself and hurried off. Before going to the hall, she took a quick detour to the granary. To her relief, she found no trace of her brothers or their men. They must have dispersed when they discovered she did not mean to bring them Jobert. Her plan had succeeded.

She headed back toward the hall. As she passed the still-smoldering kitchen shed, she heard a low whistle. Her heart sank as she glimpsed Godric in the nearby shadows.

“What do you here?” she whispered as she ducked beside him. “Where are the rest of them?”

“Gone,” he said bitterly. “The fools could not agree on a course of action, so we missed our chance. Why did you fail us, Edeva? ’Twould have been so easy to defeat them once we had their leader. Does he really please you so much that you favor him over your own blood kin?”

“He’s done right by Oxbury. Mayhaps if you went to him and said you would be willing to serve him...”

“Never! I’ll serve no Norman swine! I’d rather die!”

Edeva shook her head, thinking that Godric’s angry words might well come to pass.

“Edeva.”

She jerked around and saw Jobert standing a few feet away. “Is everything all right?” he asked. “You said that you were going to the hall to prepare the salve.”

“I am... but I... stopped to speak to someone.” Edeva glanced behind her and saw that Godric had vanished.

“Who was he?” Jobert asked.

“One of the herdsmen, He does not live in the village.”

Jobert drew nearer. “The man seems brawny and strong. We could use men like that when we begin work on the curtain wall next spring.”

“I don’t know if he would be willing to serve you,” Edeva said breathlessly. “I think he would rather live in poverty in the forest than work for a Norman.”

“A pity. Men like him will find that there is no place for them in William’s England.”

Jobert’s voice was calm and matter-of-fact. Edeva could not tell if he believed her explanation or not.

“Come to the hall. You have medicine to make.”

They went to the manor hall, and Edeva stopped briefly to check on the injured women. Edwina was sitting up, eating heartily, and Edeva spared no more concern for her. But Wulfget had worsened. Her face was paler, her breathing more erratic. “Did you bring her something?” Beornflaed asked.

“Aye, but I must prepare it first. Fetch me some water and put it to boil over the fire. I will go upstairs and find some other things to mix in the brew.”

She hurried up the stairs. Thankfully, her mother had taught her something of herbal lore, and she knew how to steep thyme leaves to soothe a cough. And mayhaps there was some poppy juice left, to ease Wulfget’s pain. She would have to be careful of the dosage. Wulfget’s lungs were badly damaged. If she lay too still, she would be more like to succumb to a fever and die from that.

Edeva used the taper she had taken from the hall to light the lamp in the bedchamber, and then went to the storage chests where her mother kept her supplies. Finding the thyme, she wrapped a portion in a cloth to carry downstairs, and then remembered the herb she’d brought from the miller’s house.

She opened the small sack and spilled a little of the contents in her hand, examining it by firelight. ’Twas difficult to discern one kind of seed from another, but the color and scent of these aroused a memory.

Caraway seeds, she decided. A remedy for griping bowels as well as impotence. She recalled a peddler trying to sell the herb to her mother, jesting with her.

Suddenly Edeva knew the reason for the miller’s foolish actions. He dreaded losing his fair young wife to a more virile man. He had even sought out an aphrodisiac to aid him.

Edeva stared at the caraway, trying to decide what to do with it. No need to dose the Norman, for certes. The very thought was ridiculous. As if he was not as potent as a prize stallion already! But she could not bring herself to discard the seeds. Besides its medicinal uses, caraway was said to be good seasoning for breads and pastries.

Crossing to one of the chests, she stashed the bag inside. If the Norman checked to see that she had made use of the medicine they had gone to so much trouble to procure, she would tell him that it did not take much to make the salve.

Edeva went downstairs and brewed a tea for Wulfget over the fire. She added a bit of poppy juice and swirled it around before offering the drink to the invalid.

Wulfget drank haltingly, gasping between swallows.

Then her eyes closed and she fell back, still breathing in uneven rasps.

Edeva watched her a moment, frowning. The thought that the young woman might die brought her guilt rushing back. She’d promised to look after Wulfget. But how was she to guess the danger would come not from the Norman knights, but her own kinsmen?