THE WARLORD (22 page)

"I should take comfort, knowing Remmington lands will run red with the blood of my people?" Tess shook her head, feeling secure again in her decisions. "I know too well what happens when an army lays siege. Those within the keeps and fortresses will be slowly starved until they are forced to fight or die. With Kenric's army outside the walls, they will die anyway. My vassals and retainers will have MacLeith swords at their backs, and Kenric's swords at their throats. They will be the first to die."

Fitz Alan remained silent, unable to deny what he had doubtless witnessed times beyond counting. Tess knew she was not far wrong in her summation. That Remmington was Kenric's by law would only make the warlord more ruthless in his methods.

Steam drifted from the small pot over the fireplace and Tess pulled the caldron from the fire. She used her skirt to protect her hands as she poured the mixture into the mug Fitz Alan held.

" 'Tis
hot," she warned, as he sniffed the brew with a wrinkled nose.

"You have said naught about the other things Lady Helen told you," Fitz Alan murmured, blowing lightly across the top of his potion. "Most ladies would be aggrieved to learn their husband was not the result of a marriage."

Tess supposed that was Fitz Alan's delicate way of avoiding the word "bastard." He seemed the only one at Montague with any such aversion this past day.
" 'Tis
of little consequence. Why should that fact change my opinion of Kenric at this late date?"

"Why, indeed?" he said, smiling again. His smile dimmed as he sniffed the potion again, looking tempted to hold his nose as he swallowed the foul brew. His complexion took a turn for the worse as he handed back the empty mug.
"God, 'tis awful!"

"Your lord's opinion exactly."
Tess smiled, thinking both men would likely gag if they learned the true contents of the mixture. Her smile faded at the sound of a commotion in the hallway. Kenric appeared in the doorway, Simon and Evard close behind. He eyed the open door then gave Fitz Alan a pointed look, nodding approvingly.

"I thought you might join us," Fitz Alan said with a shrug.

"It took you half of an hour to drink a damned potion?" Kenric demanded. Even knowing the state of Fitz Alan's health, he'd started to rethink the order that sent him off alone with Tess to a room that conveniently contained a bed. Fitz Alan had been known to take advantage of a lady in much more precarious situations.

"Lady Tess said the potion must be warmed first," Fitz Alan explained.

Kenric gave Tess an accusing look. "You did not warm my potion."

"I thought it best to pour the cure down your gullet as soon as possible."

He stalked across the room and pulled out a quilted leather tunic, armbands, chauses, and other clothing he wore beneath his armor, his comments addressed to Fitz Alan. "Collect what you need for a ride to
Deny
Town
. Simon tells me the bailiff hid in that village first. We shall see if the mayor can be convinced to tell me more of the traitor's flight. I will meet you in the armory in a quarter hour."

Fitz Alan gave Kenric a quick bow then left.
Kenric's gaze brushed by Tess, quickly passing her over.

"You two will stay with my wife," he told Simon and Evard. "Stay outside her door when she is in this chamber, within her sight when she is not."

With that, Kenric departed. Tess closed the door behind him, trying to ignore the two soldiers who took up their positions in the hallway. It was humiliating for them to know how little Kenric thought of her, that he would not bother to give her a word of farewell or even a notion of when he'd return. Not that it mattered. The whole castle knew what little regard he had for her. Tess released a long sigh, realizing that Kenric's latest order for her keepers to remain within her sight would only make her escape more difficult.
Nearly impossible, as a matter of fact, if she failed to trick them into relaxing their guard.

Afraid of feeling sorry for
herself
if she remained in her room any longer, Tess donned her cloak and made her way to the battlements. Evard and Simon followed dutifully. The crisp, fresh air was exhilarating, but Tess noticed that her guards watched her nervously, looking half afraid of her intent when she leaned far over the wall to peer down into the bailey. Simon was at her elbow before she gained a clear view of the area.

"Please, milady," he said quietly. "Should you
fall,
the baron will see that we meet your fate."

Tess doubted either event, but she took a step back from the wall. "Do not fret, Simon. The ground holds little appeal from this height."

She leaned more cautiously against the wall and Simon nodded his approval. She didn't have a long wait before she spied Kenric riding out from the main gates with a score of his men. Even in full armor, she knew him immediately. Aside from his blue and white surcoat, he was simply the tallest and largest of the men, his black warhorse sized on the same massive scale. He was an impressive sight. She pitied
Derry
Town
's mayor. That man was sure to be frightened witless by the sight of his overlord bearing down on his town, dressed for war.

"He is a fool to ride out this late with so few men," Tess remarked, gauging the angle of the sun over the treetops to the west.

"Only a fool would challenge the baron," Evard stated, his voice filled with pride in his overlord's prowess.
"Night
or
day."

Tess was ready to retort that wild beasts cared little for a man's reputation, but at that moment Kenric turned in his saddle to gaze back at Montague. She quelled the ridiculous urge to lift her hand in a gesture of farewell. He'd granted her no such sign of consideration. He turned forward but his head suddenly jerked back around and Tess knew he'd caught sight of her. She could almost feel his gaze though his eyes were shielded behind his helm and she was too far away to see them anyway. She was certain he was waiting for that wave. He wasn't going to get it. At last he turned around again as the group rode over the crest of a hill and disappeared from sight. Tess turned away from the wall, her smile meant to hide the curious sheen of tears in her eyes.

"What say you we visit the kitchens?" she suggested with forced cheerfulness. "I would like to compliment Cook on the fine meal we enjoyed this day."

The two soldiers exchanged an odd look then nodded their agreement.

The kitchens were still abuzz with activity, the servants busy cleaning up the remnants of the feast and turning the leftovers into new meals for the next day. Everyone came to a sudden halt when they spied the baroness, the silence that descended over the group befitting a church service until a tray slipped from someone's grip and the bowls that were stacked on top clattered to the floor. It was almost a signal of some sort, for everyone suddenly returned to their duties, looking busier than they had a few moments before. The low hum of hushed conversations filled the room again.

"Milady," Cook murmured, rushing forward. He bowed, then stepped back a pace and eyed her nervously. "Is… is anything amiss, Baroness?"

"I wanted to thank you personally for producing such a fine feast," Tess said warmly, mistaking the Cook's uncomfortable flush for modest pride. "The food surpassed my expectations. You and your staff have talents worthy of the king's table."

Cook twisted his apron strings, avoiding the baroness's clear gaze as he mumbled a reply. "Thank you, milady
. 'Tis an honor to serve our lord and lady."

Tess glanced around at the flurry of activity, knowing the effort the meal had cost. "After working so hard, you and your assistants deserve a day less strenuous. You will be excused from your duties on the morrow with your lady's blessing. I will instruct the chamber servants to serve a simple nooning meal from the remainders of the feast."

Cook looked embarrassed by the reward. Holidays were a rarity when a castle had to be fed on a daily basis, no matter what. Tess was a little surprised by his lack of enthusiasm.

Knowing her presence disturbed their work, Tess didn't linger in the kitchens. It was too late to begin any worthwhile projects, yet too early to go to bed. She paused in the great hall long enough to pour a mug of cider and mull over her options for the next few hours. Surprisingly, she met a silence in the great hall that nearly matched the one in the kitchens. Nearly three score of Kenric's men were gathered near the fireplaces, yet they turned from their groups and watched her expectantly. Uncomfortable with the scrutiny, Tess gulped down the cider then made her way to the castle's chapel. Never far behind, Simon and Evard took positions on either side of the door inside the large, vaulted chamber. Rather than take her place on a kneeler, Tess walked forward to the nave where tall candles were kept burning day and night. Prying a taper from its holder, she began walking along the walls of the chapel, stopping at the evenly spaced wall sconces to light the rush torches they contained.

"My prayers were said this morning," Tess told her two guards over one shoulder, her arm
raised
to light another torch. "We have business of a more earthly order here tonight. The servants will be scrubbing this chamber down on the morrow." She wrapped her fingers around an impressive cobweb that hung from one sconce then removed it with a flick of her wrist. "Father Gilard is on retreat at Roeston Abbey for three more days and I would surprise him with a clean place of worship on his return. The cleaning will be made easier if the kneelers and altar pieces are removed to the antechamber before the servants arrive."

Both soldiers sighed long and loud, but they dutifully began moving the kneelers. Tess removed the altar pieces, stacking them carefully in a corner of the antechamber.

"Did you notice how everyone in the kitchens acted so oddly?" she asked, concentrating on wrapping a delicately carved Madonna. She didn't see the wry smiles that were exchanged.
"In the great hall, as well.
Do you think something is amiss?"

"Amiss, milady?"
Simon asked, hefting another kneeler onto his hip to carry it to the antechamber. He gazed despondently at the other fifty or so kneelers that had yet to be moved.

"Everyone seemed rather quiet," she said finally, not quite able to describe her uneasiness any other way.

"They were simply showing you respect, Baroness. Servants and soldiers alike should be expected to await your bidding when you enter a room."

"They did not seem quite so respectful before today," Tess said, following Simon into the antechamber with a statuette. Evard was there already, arranging the kneelers in a compact row.

"The baron put the fear of—" Evard paused long enough to eye the holy objects that filled the room, apparently rethinking his words. "He put the fear of himself in them."

"How so?"
Tess asked, curious. She set the statue aside and waited for Evard's answer. Evard's gaze shifted to Simon.

"You might as well tell her, now that you've stuck your foot in it," Simon told him.

"They meant to defy you, Lady.
Both servants and soldiers.
They were testing the baron, seeing if he would enforce the rules you laid down in his absence."

"They complained of me?" Tess asked in a quiet voice that bespoke injured pride.
"To my husband?"

"Nay, milady.
They simply ignored your rules.
Blatantly so.
I don't think—"

"The baron does not like being tested," Simon interrupted. "Your husband made it clear to all that your rules would be followed else he would enforce them."

"I see," Tess said quietly. She turned and went back to the altar to wrap another statuette. Simon and Evard followed, exchanging an uneasy glance.

"He showed his support of you, milady," Simon ventured, lifting another kneeler.

"Aye," she responded simply. She had no idea that her actions had forced such a confrontation. No wonder Kenric was so rude at the feast. He was doubtless blaming that dissension on her as well. It was galling to know it was truth. "Perhaps we could begin sweeping down some of the cobwebs after the kneelers are moved. I think I saw some brooms in the antechamber."

Both soldiers balked at that suggestion. Evard claimed he would rather face a flogging than wield a broom. Noting the stubborn expression on the baroness's face, Simon used reason to talk her out of the demeaning chore, telling her it was late already and her bath would be waiting by the time they were done with the kneelers. Tess agreed, much to their obvious relief.

It was late the next day when Kenric returned from
Derry
Town
. As Tess prepared to go down to the hall to greet him, a servant arrived at her door with a tray of food and word that the baron had business to discuss with his men that night in the hall. Tess interpreted the message as an order to remain in their room. It was well past midnight when he finally entered the bedchamber. Tess feigned sleep as she listened to the quiet sounds he made as he undressed for the night, tensing when she felt the bed give beneath his weight. She waited for him to pull her to his side, as was his custom. Several long, silent minutes passed before she realized he wasn't going to touch her.