by His Ransom
“I was hoping that in the same way that I passed on to you one of my skills that you might find the time to pass on one of yours to me.”
Now Rosamunde was puzzled and could not think what skill she could have that would be useful to Richard.
“And what is that?” she asked.
“You dance very well, Rosamunde, and although I have learned it was never important enough for me to do it well.”
Rosamunde stared at him. “You wish me to teach you to dance?”
“I wish you to help me be a better dancer.”
Rosamunde laughed. “You are a surprising man.” She laughed, but she knew that Richard must have begun to favour one woman above the others. Why else would he want to dance better? He must want to please her and that meant that he did not wish to please Rosamunde.
His smile broadened. “Music and dancing are part of a man’s education. A man cannot always be at war.”
She considered for a moment. It was impolite of him to ask her to teach him so that he could impress another woman. On the other hand, he had taught her to defend herself against his better judgement and it would be churlish to refuse to help him now. “Yes, I will teach you, but we will need some assistance from Thomas.”
“Do you think he will agree to help?” she asked Margaret.
“I think he might. He is very fond of dancing.”
This was true. Thomas was both an enthusiastic and graceful dancer and had been much sought after as a partner before his betrothal to Margaret. Rosamunde was glad they would not have to be as secretive about the dancing as they had been about the knife.
Chapter Nine
One morning, two weeks after Candlemas, Rosamunde decided that she had to get out of the castle and the town. She had not left either for several months and they had become no better than a prison to her. It seemed to her that even the slightest problem with rebuilding the town was brought to her and she was weary of the noise and constant questions. She felt that she displayed her ignorance every time she gave an answer and that this ignorance was letting her father down. She could not remember her father having to go into things in such detail. He had left it to his steward and the burgesses. It was time the burgesses took over. They were supposed to look after the interests of the townspeople and surely they could manage without her for one afternoon. Most of the townspeople were still in the castle and it would be worse when everyone else returned from the duke’s other properties in a few days’ time. So many things needed to be done in the town. The buildings that had been destroyed or rendered useless had to be replaced, the damaged houses had to be repaired and the fields that had been neglected all winter would need a lot of work. There were accusations of favouritism from all sides and the burgesses were constantly presenting her with problems. Soon the castle would be more crowded than it had been during the siege. The noise inside the castle and without was already unbearable and she knew that she would break soon. There was nowhere where she could hide from all these demands. Every room and passageway was full and people still came looking for her if she was in her father’s solar.
Hawking was the answer and she knew that she would have a ready ally in Thomas. He enjoyed hawking more than any man she knew and he was happy to accompany her beyond the confines of the valley. It was a bright day, with no further snow in prospect, so she ordered their horses and hawks to be prepared. It had been some months since she had left the valley and, although she knew she would return before nightfall, the idea of following where the birds led for an afternoon was enticing. She tried to convince herself that her absence would make people think that things were going so well she did not have to be there to oversee it herself, but she knew that this was a lie. They would know that she was running away, but she didn’t care. She had to get away and she had to get away now.
Seeing the activity in the bailey Richard came to talk to her. He was no longer at her side by day and within her call at night and she missed him. She had grown used to his nearness and now that he was no longer there she felt more alone than she ever had before. She was on edge and had even argued that morning with him during his dancing lesson. She was not prepared to listen now when he suggested that she take more men with her.
“Thomas will be more than adequate,” she said haughtily, ignoring the small voice inside that tried to acknowledge that Richard might be right. “I have nothing to fear now.”
“Your father is not yet returned. Sir Walter might…”
Rosamunde cut him off haughtily. “No. Sir Walter will not dare.” She was certain of this. Sir Walter was defeated and he would not try again. “And the duke’s men guard him,” she added. Thomas had sent a boy with the duke’s men to see how many guards had been left and he had been satisfied with the answer.
She turned away from Richard and mounted her horse quickly, because she saw that Guy was about to support Richard. Despite their disagreement, Richard still helped her onto her horse. He was the only one who would dare and he did it absently, as if his mind was elsewhere. But Rosamunde still felt his touch even as Richard turned to Thomas. They spoke quietly together before Thomas mounted his own horse. Thomas shook his head, then shrugged at Richard. Even Thomas could not be relied on to help her find some relief from all her responsibility. He also thought she should stay. But she could not. It was too much and she had to get away from the town, even for an afternoon. She could not help but see the look of concern on Richard’s face as she struggled to control her horse, who seemed as eager to leave the castle as she was. With the falconer and the dogs, the party was complete. As they passed out of the castle, Rosamunde urged her horse into a fast trot, glad to be free of its confines. She felt like joining the dogs as they barked their joy at being free from the confines of the castle. She felt as if she had been besieged there since the day her father had left; it had only been a closer confinement when Sir Walter had arrived. Now she would go where the hunt led her.
After so many months it felt strange to be without Richard. He had been her shadow and her protector and now she had left him behind. She wished now that she had allowed him to come with her. She enjoyed his company above all others and she knew that she would enjoy the day less without him. But he would have set her about with guards and would have taken half the garrison with them. Her troubles would have gone hunting with her and she wanted to be free of them, even for a short time.
None of the hunting party saw two men mount their horses and follow them along the valley. Only Richard, angrily standing watch up on the highest wall saw them and he ceased to give them any thought after one of them had turned onto the coast road and left his companion behind. His thoughts stayed with Rosamunde as he continued to stare sightlessly up the valley.
Rosamunde could not settle to a steady pace and once they were out of the valley she galloped ahead of Thomas and Edward the falconer. When they finally caught up with her, she was by a river where they had hunted many times before. Rosamunde had promised Margaret that they would soon be eating duck, so they loosed the hawks. Rosamunde allowed herself to become lost in the beauty of their flight. Her mind was at last free of the cares of the past few weeks. She saw herself flying with the hawks and rejoiced in the freedom she felt. It did not last long, she soon found herself thinking that she would be wise to organise a proper hunt for the men within the next few days, even before her father returned. They, too, would need the release that she had sought and they needed fresh meat in the castle. Shaking her head, she sighed. Even away from the castle she was not free of it. She made an effort to turn her thoughts in a more pleasant direction. She would think of Richard.
She wondered how Richard would fare when they came out to hunt. He had not sat on a horse since before the siege. He did not limp so much now and she thought that he could probably manage an afternoon or so in the saddle. She smiled as she thought about how he would look seated on a powerful stallion and realised that she had forgiven him for their earlier argument about dancing. He had prove
n to be a difficult pupil. While he had never once lost his balance when he had been teaching her to use the knife, he frequently fell over when they were dancing and seemed to hold it against her, as if it were her fault. She had been prepared to accept his expertise with a knife, but he did not seem to accept her as the better dancer and argued with her constantly. She realised soon enough that it had cost him a great deal to admit to this lack in his education, but she felt that he could be a better pupil. He did not seem grateful for the progress he made, yet seemed to blame her whenever his lack of grace was revealed. This morning he had taken her to task for his inability to master a particular step and she had retorted that it was his own lack of wit that meant he could not follow her simple instructions. Richard had not taken her rebuke well. They had not parted on the best of terms and now she regretted it. If anything, they had grown even closer since the end of the siege and she knew that she should be keeping her distance from him. Her father would almost certainly grant the duke’s request for her to marry his son, for she was certain that that was what lay in wait in the duke’s letter. It was not to be expected that her father would give her any choice a second time. And if she had that choice, would she want to marry Richard? She loved him, had loved him for a long time, but did she want him for a husband? He enjoyed her company, but had recently shown himself to be short-tempered and impatient. He had accepted his fate as a prisoner and she considered what might happen to him now that the siege was over.
Above all else, he had shown no sign that he wanted her for a wife, or anything else. He had always been polite and distant with her and with every other woman in the castle, with the exception of Margaret. Rosamunde suspected that Margaret knew a lot more about Richard than she said. Sometimes she felt angry that Richard chose to confide in someone else, but since she had never revealed her own feelings, she could not blame him for turning to someone who was herself so open and obviously enjoyed his company.
Rosamunde was not a woman to lie to herself. The further away from the castle they travelled, the more she realised that she wanted him with her, even if he was still angry with her. She had relied on him for so long. It wasn’t in the same way that she relied on Guy or even on Thomas. Even more than both of them he seemed always to think of what was best for her, of what would keep her safe, of what would make her happy. Now she understood that he hadn’t wanted to prevent her happiness in the hunt; he had simply wanted to make sure that she would be able to hunt safely. She resolved to apologise to him on her return and to pay attention to his advice in future. Even if he had no desire to have her as a wife, he had demonstrated that he valued her friendship and she would be happy with that for the moment. She was happy now. Freed from the constraints of Corchester anything seemed possible, even that Richard might love her.
The hawks seemed as much affected by their new freedom as Rosamunde and seemed unwilling to pursue the targets that Edward set them at, preferring to chase one another through the sky. Rosamunde was so caught up in her thoughts and the wonder of the birds’ flight that she did not notice the approaching horsemen until they were almost upon her. Thomas shouted out for her attention, but it was already too late.
At first Rosamunde thought it must be a messenger from the castle; Guy had a problem and had sent for her to return. Irritated, she was forming a scathing reply when she realised that none of the three men cantering towards her was known to her. She could think of no good reason why a group of strangers should be approaching her, but she was still not afraid.
Thomas was already advancing towards the men, calling to her to remain where she was. He was armed and had drawn his sword before he got close to the men and now Rosamunde started to feel fear. Thomas always tried friendship first. He must have noticed something about the men that made him approach them in this way.
To her horror, Rosamunde noticed that the strangers had also drawn their swords and were advancing rapidly on Thomas. Thomas only had time to shout to her that she should flee before he was cut down. Rosamunde screamed, drowning out his cries, but turned her horse in obedience to him. She did not want to abandon him, but she could do nothing alone against so many armed men in a killing mood. Now she remembered Richard’s warning. Thomas had paid more heed, but still he had paid the price for her foolishness. She should have listened to Richard and brought a full escort.
She kicked at her horse desperately and then turned to look where she was going. Four more mounted men blocked her path. She tried to turn, but that simply gave the other men the time to come up behind her. She was trapped.
She pulled out her knife, knowing it was useless, but the men paused when they saw it, not sure that she would not carry out her threat. She doubted she could kill any of them, but she could hurt them.
“Sir Walter wants you alive,” one of them said, “But he will not object if you are bruised.” He laughed and the others joined in.
Rosamunde said nothing, but gripped her knife more tightly. She tried to recall everything that Richard had taught her, but her head was empty. They had assumed that she would be attacked within the castle, not on horseback. He had not taught her to defend herself on horseback. The only things in her favour were that she was armed and she was desperate.
One of the men dismounted and ran to grab her horse’s bridle. Now Rosamunde tried to panic the horse into trampling the man, but there was no longer enough room to move. The other riders had surrounded her too closely.
Leaning forward, she slashed at the man holding her horse’s bridle and caught his arm with the blade of the knife. He jerked it away from her and she was gratified to see that she had drawn blood.
He turned his head to look at his wound. “You will regret that,” he hissed, as he stepped towards her. Rosamunde’s horse tossed his head, frightened by the smell of the blood, forcing the man to take a step back.
By now one of the others had dismounted and was by her foot. He reached up to grab the reigns from her and was rewarded with the blade of the knife in his shoulder. He howled as he fell to the ground.
Rosamunde knew that this was a fight that she must surely lose and was looking for some way of escape, but could see none. She had been lucky so far, but that luck must desert her eventually. But she dared not give up; she knew what her fate must be if she were taken to Sir Walter. Many people had suffered much in the last few months to ensure that she should not have to surrender to him and she would not give herself up easily.
She was surrounded, but for the moment the men had backed away slightly, mindful of the orders not to harm her too much. They had a hurried conversation and decided quickly that they had no option other than to harm her if they were to take her and they advanced towards her with a new determination. Two men held her horse’s head while two more grabbed at her arm. A third hit her wrist with the flat of his sword, making her drop the knife. They pulled her down from her horse, bound her wrists and ankles and one of them pulled her up in front of him on his horse. Still she struggled, knowing it was useless. Why hadn’t she listened to Richard? Now she would be Sir Walter’s wife and she would never see Richard again. She dared not think about what would happen when they arrived at Sir Walter’s manor. Sir Walter would have to take her quickly if he was to be sure of making her his wife. He must know that she would soon be missed and a search party sent from the garrison.
As they rode off towards Sir Walter’s manor Rosamunde looked back at Thomas’ unmoving body lying where it had fallen and knew her situation was helpless. There would be no rescue. When morning came she would be Sir Walter’s bride, one way or another.
Although her captor threatened to hit her if she did not keep still, Rosamunde struggled until she almost fell off the horse. They travelled slowly and the man holding her cursed frequently. Suddenly the man did hit her: hard. Stunned, she stayed still for a few minutes and then started to struggle again. The man was taken by surprise, thinking he had cowed her into submission and fell from the horse. Since she had no means to hold ont
o the horse, Rosamunde also fell, crashing onto her elbow and hip. Dizzy from the pain, she felt rough hands grab her and put her back onto the horse. When the men spurred their horses on, she started to moan, as if in greater pain than she felt. The men grumbled, but remembered their orders. The horse’s motion changed from a trot to a walk and Rosamunde moaned more quietly. The journey to Sir Walter’s house continued. But she was content; she had slowed them down. Help might yet find her before it was too late. She knew that Guy would follow once he knew that she was taken, but he might not know for some time yet.
The afternoon was darkening by the time they arrived at the manor. Rosamunde had wondered what had happened to the men left behind by the duke to guard Sir Walter, but as they entered the walled manor she saw four corpses in the courtyard and knew.
Sir Walter came out to meet them in the small courtyard and helped her down. She was stiff and sore by now and stumbled into his arms.
“Welcome to your new home, my dear,” he said, holding her close against his body. She pulled herself away and almost lost her balance. Rosamunde wanted to spit at him, but decided instead to maintain a haughty composure.
“Do not imagine for a moment that I shall be staying here,” she said. She noticed with anger that her voice shook. She was cold and bruised, but she knew it was fear that he would hear.
“After tonight you will be my wife and you will have no choice,” he replied coolly. Seeing her glance again at the corpses, he said, “You see what comes of those who oppose me.” His very calmness was frightening. He had shown how determined he was to have her as his wife. He had not permitted even the king’s will to stand in his way. He must know that the king would punish him severely for this.
“I will not be your wife,” said Rosamunde, although she was now very frightened. The other men left by the duke must be in Sir Walter’s dungeon. What hope could one woman have when so many men had been defeated?