Knight's Wager

by Ling, Maria

  She'd have to fight, though. And she believed she knew how best to do it.

  "This fever on the way..." She waited until she had his full attention once again. "I do not pretend to knowledge of such things. And no one else suffered it, so I do not think it could be a travelling curse, such as the physician said. But even so. Such an odd and sudden visitation on my journey here, and then this accident befalling your son. It's curious, don't you think?"

  "I do," the baron said. And turned back to the mummers, whom he watched now with an indifferent gaze, as if he barely noticed their prancing.

  ###

  She was at her sewing the next day, cosy in Ysolt's brazier-warmed chamber, when the earl arrived and bore her back to her own chill room, and shut the door.

  "You'll marry the baron," the earl said. "It's all been arranged. He's offered me a fair prize for you, and I'm happy to take it."

  "Please." Aline choked back both rage and fear. "Don't force me to marry. I don't want him."

  "You'll have to sulk, then," the earl replied. "Your father placed you in my care, I promised him I'd find you a good match and see his estate safe in capable hands. This I have done, and made myself a tidy sum into the bargain." He grinned. "An excellent Christmas for my part."

  "Not for mine." Aline held herself upright and braced for his anger. She wouldn't give in, not if he beat her. "I tell you I will take no vows for this man."

  "Of course you will," the earl sniffed. "Enjoy it, too. Pretty girl like you, dressed up nicely and made the star of the festivities. You'll be a baron's wife and like it."

  "He doesn't even know me," Aline pleaded. "How can he be sure I'll be the kind of wife he wants?"

  "Dare say he'll make sure of that," her guardian said. "With belt or without. But he has a fair idea of you. Said he'd let you keep that horse of yours. Enjoys watching you on her. Which reminds me -- you're riding out with him this afternoon. At a settled pace, mind. Nothing wild."

  Stone and plaster walls loomed around Aline, thick and cold. "That's not what I want."

  "It's what you'll get. Now don't make me turn you over and whip your behind. Do as you're told and you'll have a pleasant Christmas. He'll call for you after the midday meal, and you'd best be ready." The earl fixed her with a merciless stare. "Or would you prefer that I tell him you are indisposed, and cannot ride?"

  Aline bent her head. She could fight this out, and be whipped. Or feign obedience, and at least get a chance to plead with her suitor to let her go.

  She held the thought of Eustace firm before her mind. If she could get rid of the baron -- appeal to his purse, his heart, his pride, anything that might work -- then she'd be safe for a little longer still. And Eustace had asked her to give him time. She must believe that he'd keep faith if she did, that together or apart they would find some way to win their own desire.

  "I will ride out with him," she said. "But I will not promise to marry him. At least let me get to know him a little more first. I've scarcely spoken to him except at meals."

  "You may have the day to decide," the earl said. "By evening, I'll have a switch laid in for you. Then we'll see how proud you are."

  ###

  "Did you notice anything?" the baron demanded. "Strange smells, powerful dreams, demonic urges?"

  "Nothing." Eustace thrust aside insistent thoughts of Aline's body. He wouldn't call that urge demonic, no. Less than angelic, perhaps. Human, most definitely. "We had a priest in. He left satisfied, said he didn't think there was a problem." After he'd been handsomely paid, but Eustace didn't mention that.

  They sat in the tack room of the earl's hunting lodge, where part of the baron's retinue had their horses stabled. Eustace had joined the men assigned to care for them and clean the tack before the return journey. He didn't mind that work, and had been pleased to see the beasts well cared for. The baron's son might be a fool, but father and son both knew the coin value of a good horse.

  "The trouble is," the baron said, "I can't afford a whisper of scandal. Not of this kind. I have a pair of abbots in my pay -- I need them to deal with the king and his pack of hounds -- and they'd run for the hills if they got close to such a thing. I won't marry a girl who's had that sort of word spoken about her, no matter how quietly."

  "She's innocent," Eustace said. "I'll stake my life on it."

  "Don't know why the earl's taken against my son," the baron muttered. "It was all but settled until that little escapade. He'll be up and about in a month or two, no doubt of it, and so I tell anyone who'll hear me. But the earl's set against the match now, and I was hot enough pursuing it before. Don't know how I can refuse her without saying why. Which isn't a safe thing to whisper. I don't want to get her killed. Or throw suspicion on my friend and his family, either." He threw Eustace a sharp look. "You've not spread this sort of talk about, I hope?"

  "Never a word," Eustace said truthfully. "Didn't give it another thought once the priest spoke his."

  "Good man." The baron paused and studied him intently. "You like the girl, don't you?"

  "I respect her a great deal," Eustace said with cool dignity.

  "Apart from that."

  "Don't know what you mean."

  "Come now." The baron nudged him with a booted foot. "She's a fine young woman, as you can't have failed to notice."

  "Of course I've noticed," Eustace admitted. "I'm not a complete fool."

  "Not so sure about that," the baron said. "Everyone saw you drowning in your own slobber. Got you kicked out of the earl's service, which I don't suppose is a secret there either."

  "Happily, I've been fortunate in my new master."

  "I took you on for charity," the baron said. "As a favour to my friend, who said you deserved some consideration for serving him so well before. If you'd been a less devoted man, he told me, you'd have dangled from the walls. Which you must have known from the moment you first turned your mind towards her. Now do you have something to say on the subject?"

  "I love her," Eustace admitted.

  "Dear me." The baron leaned back against the worn plank wall draped with leading-ropes. "I can see how that would be a problem. Luckily for you, I think it can be handled quietly. You see, I don't want to lose the earl's good will. He's been useful to me on occasion, and I consider him a good friend. But I don't want to be saddled with the girl. And since he won't let my son have her, for whatever bizarre reason, I find myself needing to be extricated."

  "Quite," Eustace said, resisting the urge to scowl. How any man could cavil at the promise of Aline for a wife, abbots or no, was a mystery to him. But he was glad the baron did, all the same. Even if Eustace couldn't see what opportunity it offered to himself. Some other wealthy suitor would take her instead. There was no shortage of --

  "Want to marry the girl?" the baron asked.

  Eustace dropped the bridle he'd been cleaning.

  "I'll take that for a yes," the baron said in a dry tone. "What would she say to it, do you think?"

  Eustace hesitated as he grubbed up the tangle of leather straps and eased away the dust. He ought to assure the baron fervently of Aline's indifference. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. Once had cost him, twice might lose him the first glimmer of hope. "She might approve of the notion," he admitted. "But the earl -- "

  "I'll square him," the baron said. "The favours haven't all gone one way. Now, here's my plan..."

  Eustace listened with growing unease.

  ###

  Aline glanced around nervously. She couldn't outright refuse to ride further with the baron, not without angering her guardian. And she was well attended, with two grooms and several of the earl's men at her back. Even so, she didn't like how far afield her suitor was taking her. Snow-laden trees closed in from all directions, blocking her view of the castle and cutting off any possible route of escape. With Eustace, she'd delight in her freedom. With this man, she preferred to keep the castle walls around her. At least she had allies there, of a kind. Ysolt would never permit anythin
g untoward, Aline was certain. Here, though, far from aid, with only four of the earl's men against six of the baron's own...

  "We should return," she ventured. "I have permission to be away for one hour only."

  "This won't take long." The baron rode down a track that opened into a large clearing, where a long timber house lay. "Step inside for a moment. Your guardian lodges here when he's out hunting. It's a fine little place. You'll like it." He dismounted, threw the reins to one of his men, held out his arms to help her down.

  "I'm sorry," Aline said. "I fear I could not possibly -- "

  "Just do as you're told, girl. You needn't worry about being alone with me. If I was planning to bed you I'd have done so already, and with his blessing."

  Aline hesitated. Alone with him, she could venture more heartfelt pleas than the ones she'd measured out so carefully in the men's hearing -- her grief, her reluctance to change homes yet again in so short a time, her fear lest some trace of the fever lingered still and might threaten any children she bore. "What are we stopping for?" she asked in a neutral tone.

  The baron leaned close to her knee and eased his arms under her own, laid assured hands on her waist. "I have a message," he murmured. "From a friend who was called away rather too hastily, and wishes to speak with you in private."

  Aline's heart leapt, so painfully that she gasped. "You cannot possibly mean -- "

  "This friend," the baron added, "wishes me to mention a challenge you once laid down, a wager concerning horses, and that the matter was never settled. So you'll know the message truly comes from him."

  Aline dismounted, shaking. The grooms led the horses away, and the baron told the rest of the men to wait outside. Then led her into the house, while she quailed with doubt and hope.

  Eustace stood in the hall, entirely alone.

  "Now," the baron said after shutting the door. "I have one simple question for each of you. Do you want to marry?"

  "Yes," Eustace said, and wrapped steady hands around her gloved fingers, met her eyes with such shining warmth that she fell into bliss and all fear died away.

  "Yes," Aline said. "If it can possibly be managed."

  "As it happens," the baron said, "it can. I'll bear witness to the oaths you swear. Repeat after me." And he made them give their word, each in turn, to hold to each other as husband and wife before God.

  "There," he said. "Easy. Now what we won't do is act on it. Just ride back all together and face this young man's former lord. I hold some counters neither of you has seen."

  Aline clung to Eustace's arm. "What does he mean by that?"

  "I've no idea," Eustace admitted. "This is too deep for me."

  "Are we really married?" Aline asked. She loved being so close to him, right here at his side, his arm firm under her hands. She wanted to kiss him, in full view of the baron and anyone else who cared to watch. But that would be foolhardy. She resisted the temptation, though she saw the light of it reflected in his eyes.

  "I believe so," Eustace said. "By church law, which is God's law. But whether that counts for much among men of the world -- " He turned questioning eyes on the baron.

  "You are," the baron said. "One oath is all it takes. Of course, men are forever making oaths and then denying it after they've bedded the girl, and if other men deny it too she's considered a whore. You won't get away with that, my lad, because I heard you and I'll say so. For reasons of my own."

  "Thank you," Aline said, bewildered. She'd been too intent on keeping him at a distance to notice it before, but now that she came to look at him -- really look -- she saw an expression of understanding that heartened her. It was possible, she mused, that he'd been in love himself once. Long ago it must have been, because he was certainly old.

  "Not saying your guardian will be any too pleased," the baron warned her. "Expect a storm when we get back. I'll weather it comfortably enough, but the pair of you had better shelter behind me for as long as you can. Else you'll get blown about worse than you'd bargained for."

  The door creaked open, and booted men strode in. Earl's men. "That's long enough," one of them said.

  "She's here and untouched," the baron said. "Just wanted a look around." He put Aline's hand on his own and walked for the door. She glanced back at Eustace, who was following closely.

  "Not you." The man grabbed Eustace by the forearm.

  "He's in my retinue now," the baron said. "I'll take him where I please. If you object, take it up with your lord, who'll take it up with me. Because you wouldn't risk angering his friend and guest, would you?"

  The man stared blankly, then released Eustace's arm and stepped back.

  "Excellent," the baron said. "I feel more welcome already."

  They returned to the castle without further incident -- though much the same exchange took place at the gate before they were admitted with wary reluctance, and in the great hall where servants challenged them. And then the earl arrived, with so fierce a scowl that Aline shivered.

  "You have some jest prepared for me?" he barked at the baron, who smiled.

  "Come away and speak in private," the baron said. "Before this becomes an embarrassment to you and a diversion to your entire household."

  The earl glared at him, then at Eustace, and then at Aline who felt as if she'd been tossed from her horse at a gallop. "This way," he growled and led them to his own chamber, where he slammed the door shut and rounded on them all.

  "Before you say word," the baron offered, "know that these two are married by sworn oath before God. Nothing can part them and nothing undo what is done. I was there, I saw and heard it, I will swear my own sacred oath that it is so."

  The earl, pale now and silent, just stared at him.

  "It occurs to me," the baron said, "that so staunch a defence at such cost to myself, for the sake of keeping God's word holy in the sight of all, would rather please my friend the abbot were he to learn of it. Discreetly, through another friend. And that your blessing, though obtained after the event, would be of great worth to the happy couple. So great that they would not hesitate to make over a sufficient portion of her estate to ensure that you rather gain than lose by the whole affair. With perhaps a consideration for myself also, by way of assuaging the damage done to my own hopes, to ensure that I can make a handsome donation to the church this Christmas. Which in turn will win me favour with another abbot whom I happen to know."

  The earl had stood rock still throughout the entire speech. Now he moved, slowly, to lean against the wall. "You planned this?" he demanded. "To cheat me out of such a prize?"

  "Not at once," the baron said. "Only when I learned, after taking this young man into my service, how much it meant to both of them. How immensely grateful they would both be, if they could only marry."

  "Er," Eustace said. "Gratitude I possess in abundance, and if twenty years of service at no consideration would please either of you, my lords, I am happy to offer it. But money or land I do not possess. I do not, in fact, have any fortune at all."

  "I do," Aline said.

  The three of them turned as one, to look at her.

  "Or so I understand," she admitted. "Subject to my guardian's blessing and good will, on his advice and with his knowledge, I would of course wish to make over as much as I can to those who have made it possible for me to follow my own heart."

  She hesitated: the memory of her home rose before her, vibrant and warm. But that was how it had been once, before everyone so dear to her had died. She could never live there now. Didn't wish to.

  Just wanted it safe in someone else's hands. Someone who would take good care of it, while she pursued her own life elsewhere. A free life, with a man who loved her as she was, and never tried to hold her on too tight a rein.

  "All of it," she said, looking straight at the earl. "If you will help me make out the proper documents."

  "I won't permit that," the earl said. "You'll need enough to live on." He paused. Glared at Eustace, who bore it with fortitude. "Both of you.
Much as you deserve a whipping first."

  "Perhaps we can come to some arrangement," the baron said smoothly. "In regards to the fortune at least. One that is acceptable to all of us."

  ###

  "Well, I don't know what to tell you." Matilda thrust clothes into the chest with none of her usual fastidious care. "How such behaviour can be rewarded in such a way -- "

  "I think we've been punished quite enough," Aline teased. "I've lost my fortune, and must live as the wife of a mere master of horse on one of the earl's lesser estates. My husband has been dismissed from yet another lord's service, and only his previous exemplary behaviour persuaded the earl to give him another chance. Only you are truly rewarded, for you may stay here if you wish and care for my lady's children, and be cared for in turn during all that remains of your life."

  "As if I'd abandon my own girl," Matilda snorted.

  Aline hugged her. Grief remained, she would never be free of it. But there was love still in the world, and life, and hope.

  "What would your father have said to this?" Matilda demanded. "He who always told you to marry well. What would he think if he knew you'd allied his family to a simple knight with no fortune and not much hope of making one -- and that you'd handed over your family estate to another man entirely?"

  "He'd say I'd done well," Aline retorted. She wandered over to the window, leaned to see snow-draped forest white as the robes of angels. Heaven was here on earth, for her at least.

  She would see her own family again. In time, she would meet them all. Joyful and laughing, in a place where there was neither pain nor fear.

  She turned back to Matilda, who watched her with an expression that was half sorrow and half doubt. "He'd say I've chosen a man who makes me happy, who loves me as I am and does not strive to change me, who asks only that I do what I most wish to do and let him share in it. That I've allied my family to that of a man of known honour and courage, who has earned the trust and favour of the lord he serves. That I've given my estate into the keeping of an old family friend, who will take good care of it and has set aside a portion for me and my future children although I offered him all in its entirety. I think my father would say I have done well." She smiled, wistfully. "He can tell me so when I see him again. When I see all of them."