The Falcons of Montabard (21 page)

'I see.' Gerbert frowned at her. 'So this is for your father's sake?'

She nodded and kept her eyes on him. Not once did they flicker. 'And for Sabin's too.'

'You are remarkably protective of Sabin FitzSimon,' Gerbert said. 'If I were a less reasonable man, I might be jealous.' He almost laughed at his own words. Of course he was jealous. The demon was perched on his shoulder, its leathery wings brushing his cheek.

'You would have no cause,' she said quietly. 'I would have to be mad to take up with him. Nor, for all the stew he is in at the moment, would he attempt to lay a finger on me.'

'You sound very certain of that.'

'I am,' she said. 'Sabin may have difficulty keeping his braies tied, but he will not play where he is not invited.'

Gerbert shook his head. 'I do not know what to say.'

'I will understand if you refuse, but I am asking you as a boon, please.'

His lips twitched. 'And if I say yes, you will wash my feet in scented water, and dry them with your kisses and your hair?'

She did not return his attempt at humour. 'I know that my stepmother will not stay faithful when Sabin has gone. Eventually my father is bound to discover, but it will be someone else.'

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Gerbert frowned. His instinct was to refuse. Left to his own devices he would have done so, but faced by the wide, anxious eyes of his bride, he hesitated, and, while he paused, it occurred to him that if Sabin left on his own, some might attach the wrong woman to the scandal. He sighed heavily.

'Very well,' he said. 'You can count it part of your morning gift - and the greater part at that. But you must do something for me in exchange.'

'What?' She raised her face to his and looked nervous.

He cupped her face, gently this time, and kissed first her cheek, then the corner of her mouth. 'Forget everything for the moment.' He kissed her again, above her top lip, on her chin, and then, softly, fully on the mouth. 'Everything, that is, but me.'

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Chapter 12

Strongfist looked askance at Gerbert. 'By all means you may take Sabin if he agrees,' he said with a question in his voice. It was early morning and the men were standing on the battlements of Tel Namir to watch the sun rise over the hills to the east.

'I am grateful,' Gerbert said. 'I am short of good men for my own garrison. I can and do hire mercenaries, but Sabin will be a boon to me.' His tone was level but his face wore an unconscious grimace. He hated telling lies. Anything less resembling a boon he could scarcely imagine, but he had promised Annais, and she had held him to it with a soft murmur as he had left their bed in the first stealing of dawn.

'Still, I am not sure that it is honourable of you to use your wedding feast to poach my best knight.' Strongfist mitigated the words with a smile to show that he was partly in jest.

'My lord, if you would rather I—'

Strongfist quickly raised his hands. 'No, no. I was but teasing you. I am sure that you did not have to persuade him very hard. I am aware that he is less than stretched at Tel Namir and it will not harm him to broaden his horizons. Indeed, I have sensed a restlessness in him of late.'

Gerbert folded his arms and tucked his hands against his ribs in a gesture that was almost defensive. He did not tell Strongfist that he had yet to speak to Sabin on the matter. 'I am sure I can do something about that,' he said, thinking that

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if Sabin displayed any of the kind of restlessness shown at Tel Namir, he would very quickly have an accident over a precipice.

'You'd not guess his prowess from the amount of meat on him,' Strongfist said, 'but I've been with him in battle and I have never seen anything as fast or as sure.'

'In all likelihood, I can promise him several skirmishes. The Saracen leader Balak of Khanzit has been a sharp thorn of late.'

When Strongfist looked dubious, Gerbert unfolded his arms and said quickly, 'Montabard is strong and well defended. I would not have you think that I am endangering your daughter. She will be well protected.'

'I know that,' Strongfist said gruffly. 'If I did not trust you to look after her, whatever your wealth and prestige, I would never have allowed this marriage.' He cleared his throat. 'I hope ... er ... I hope you were satisfied with .. .' He made a gesture, his complexion reddening.

'Very.' Gerbert gave an embarrassed shrug of his shoulders. 'Annais is everything I could want in a wife.' He looked into the distance. It was easier than speaking eye to eye. 'She was rising when I came out, but I left her to her women. I thought she might be grateful for some time to herself.'

'Harrumph, yes.'

Proof of Annais's virginity and Gerbert's virility would be shown to all when the bloody sheet from their wedding night was displayed in the hall. No more really needed to be said, but Gerbert recognised and was warmed by Strongfist's concern for his daughter's wellbeing. That in turn fuelled his anger at Sabin and Mariamne. How could they cuckold such an honourable and decent man?

Murmuring an excuse, Gerbert left his father-by-marriage and went in search of his new knight.

He found Sabin in the stables, grooming the grey while it breakfasted on barley and lucerne. Amalric was toiling over the mule, his fair complexion flushed with the exertion he was putting into making the brown hide shine.

Sabin's tunic and belt lay on a pile of straw and he was

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working in his shirt and hose. The sleeves of the former were pushed back to his elbows, revealing sinewy brown forearms with a dusting of dark hair. He was currying the grey with smoother, stronger strokes than his squire, but the same amount of effort.

When he saw Gerbert standing in the doorway, Sabin blotted his brow on his arm and lowered the comb. 'They say that toil is a good remedy for trouble of the soul,' he opened before Gerbert could speak. 'It would be much simpler if I could change places with the horse.'

'Mayhap, and if I were your owner, I would geld you,' Gerbert said. He noticed other items in the stable: a satchel; a packed baggage roll including a mail shirt and helm; a kite shield and spear. FitzSimon must either have fetched his gear very early, or spent the night here. 'My wife told me what happened, so you need not beat around the bush with me.'

The olive-gold eyes were wary. 'I am sure she told you her version of what happened,' he said.

'And a fair one it seemed to me. I think you are God's greatest fool to let yourself be led by your cock, especially by a woman like the lady Mariamne.'

'You can say nothing to me that I have not already said to myself.' Sabin resumed running the currycomb over the grey's already sleek silver hide. 'I suppose that you are here because Annais told you everything.'

'I would not be otherwise,' Gerbert growled. 'It is only for her sake and her father's that I am doing this. If it were my decision, I'd let you rot in your own dung.'

'In your position I would feel the same. When we are free of Tel Namir, I will leave your entourage if you wish it.'

Gerbert shook his head. 'Ah no,' he said with a bleak smile. 'You do not escape that easily.' He rubbed the point of his chin where bristles were in need of a barber. 'If I am to have you, then it will be on my terms. You will commit yourself to my garrison for a year and a day — on wage-fief terms. After that, I will consider your debt paid and you may do as you wish.'

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Sabin inhaled sharply. A wage-fief meant that he would be honour bound to serve Gerbert as his vassal.

'What did you think I was going to do?' Gerbert said. 'Wave you on your way with a smile? You owe me and you owe my wife. I am going to work you harder than a Jerusalem donkey. And at the end of it, you will either be strong enough to bear the burden, or you will be on your knees and I will cut your throat.' Gerbert thrust out his chest to show that he meant what he said. 'Edmund thinks that you and I are in complete amity and that I am as eager to have you in my garrison as you are to come with me. I am not the best dissembler in the world . . . but I am sure that you will have no difficulty. Now, I have wasted enough time on you, and I have other business to attend.' Turning on his heel, he strode out.

Sabin gazed after him. He felt raw with anger and shame, but most of it was directed at himself.

'He does not like you very much,' Amalric ventured.

Sabin glanced at the lad whose presence he had forgotten. 'If I were he, I would not like me very much either,' he said.

'Well, I would rather be your squire than his,' Amalric said loyally.

Sabin bared his teeth in a humourless smile. 'And doubtless Gerbert would say that I have corrupted you already for you to think thus.' He set down the currycomb and attended to braiding Lucifer's black mane. 'All I can do is take up the burden and try to stay on my feet. I've made enough of an ass of myself to do so!'

'Your stepmother is not feeling well this morn, so I've taken over her duties,' Fergus's wife said in a voice that managed to be both soothing and brisk.

Annais had already risen from the bed, leaving the maids to strip the blood-stained sheet. Before being washed, the linen was to be paraded in the hall as proof of her virginity and the success of the wedding night. Robed in her chemise, her dark hair loose and sleep-tangled, she was seated on a cushioned

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window-seat, watching the sun rise over the hills. 'I would rather it was you anyway,' she said. 'What is wrong with her?' She knew full well why her stepmother was shirking her duties, but it would have seemed strange not to ask.

'Headache and sickness,' Lady Margaret replied with an amused sniff. 'The same as half the folk in the castle. You should see Fergus ... or perhaps not.' She looked at the red smears and streaks on the linen. 'I have some salve if you are sore.'

Annais began to shake her head, but changed her mind. She had a journey to begin, and sitting a horse was going to be uncomfortable after a few miles. 'Thank you,' she murmured.

Margaret looked at her shrewdly. 'It will become easier,' she said. 'When I married Fergus, I couldn't sit without a cushion for a week! Mind you, he was as impetuous as that hair of his and had about as much gentleness as a charging bull.' She wrinkled her nose. 'He had the speed of one too, so at least it was over soon enough.'

Annais gave a small grimace, knowing exactly what Margaret meant. The place between her thighs was raw and burning. Gerbert had tried to be gentle with her, but she had been nervous, and he had been brimming with his need. In the end, when he had forced forward, she had pressed her face into his shoulder and buried her scream of pain against his taut muscles. His weight had pressed her into the mattress until she could not breathe, but as she started to panic, he had lifted off her, and she had gulped air into her starving lungs. He was still rigid as he pulled from her body and the agony had caused her to arch like a bow.

He had stroked her hair and apologised, had told her that it always hurt the first time, but that soon the pain would ease. Then he had pulled her into his arms and fallen asleep. All she had wanted to do was crawl to the other side of the bed and hug her hurting body. Unable to do that, trapped within his warm, breathing bulk, she had done her best to cry quietly and not disturb him. But Gerbert had woken. Clumsy, groggy with sleep, he had nevertheless dried her tears, kissed her softly and

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murmured more reassurances. He had promised her that they would not do it again until she was ready.

'When does it become easier?' she asked as a serving woman, eyes downcast, brought her a bowl of scented water for washing and a freshly laundered chemise with green silk ribbons at neck and sleeve.

Margaret shrugged. 'When to the man it is less of a novelty,' she said, 'and when the woman is more experienced.' She studied Annais. 'Of course, you can always help matters along.'

Annais raised an enquiring brow. Shortly thereafter, armed with enlightenment, she found herself stowing a flask of olive oil in her coffer alongside the fleece and the vinegar.

By the time she had strategically applied the salve, washed the blood from her thighs and been helped into the fresh chemise and a gown of deep green silk, Gerbert had returned from his various errands. His expression warmed at the sight of her, and he strode across the room to wrap her in his arms and kiss her soundly. The serving women cooed over the gesture and Margaret beamed in a proprietorial fashion.

'A moment alone with my wife, ladies, if you please.' Gerbert smiled round at the women. 'I have things to say that are for her ears alone.'

'I imagine you have.' Margaret raised a knowing eyebrow. 'But do not be too long about it. You've a journey to make.' Arms outspread, she ushered the maids out of the room and closed the door behind them and her.

There was a brief silence. Gerbert touched her cheek. 'You are well?'

Annais nodded. The salve had numbed the soreness between her thighs. 'Yes, my lord,' she replied and was able to give him a genuine smile.

'I am glad. I do not like to see any woman weep, and when I know I have caused it . . .'

'Give me a little time and I will adjust.'

'As much time as you need.' He kissed her again, and Annais responded, thinking, even after last night, how strange it was

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to have a man's lips on hers, to smell and taste another person in such proximity. Prior to this her father had been the only man who had kissed her - and then no more than a peck on the cheek or a swift paternal salute on closed lips. This husbandly embrace was very different indeed . . . even without the carnal demand.

Gerbert drew away and inhaled a swift, shaken breath. 'You have no notion of what you do to me,' he laughed. 'Giving you time is one of the hardest things I will ever have to do.' He dug his fingers through his cropped brown curls in a steadying gesture and went to sit on the bed, bereft now of its bloody sheet.

'I have spoken to your father about FitzSimon.' he said, 'and although I would say he is a little annoyed that I am taking away a trained fighting man, he has agreed to let him go.'