by Robyn Carr
Chandra felt the indecision for but a moment, and then with something of a haughty air, she pulled the shift from her body with one more tear and flung the thing away.
“If you resist me--”
“It was in my mind to meet you midway in this marriage, Tedric,” she spat. “I will not resist you, but it is not my own punishment I fear, but what you lay to others to make my suffering worse.”
He pushed her down onto the bed and covered her with his weight, drawing her arms up over her head and holding them there. Her earlier fears did not approach the terror she felt now. He did not condescend to give her even so much as one gentle caress. She willed herself to think of a faraway place and forced her body to become limp and lifeless so that she would show neither resistance nor encouragement.
“Do not mistake this for fondness, my love,” Tedric said hoarsely. “Yet it is the only duty in our marriage that I will not despise.”
“Do not mistake this for acceptance, love,” Chandra mimicked through gritted teeth. “I shall despise this duty of our marriage enough for both of us.”
For a moment Tedric looked into her eyes, his cold gray clearly showing hatred. “You are a bitch, Chandra, but you will learn.”
With an angry hand, Tedric parted her legs, and she felt the burning ache spread through her pelvis as he plunged himself into her resistant flesh. She could not suppress the gasp of pain and the faint whimper that escaped her. Tears she could no longer hold back spilled from her eyes as the blood of her virginity stained her thighs.
“You will learn,” he laughed again, his pleasure increasing greatly with her agony in yielding.
“You are mine, Chandra,” he finally said, rolling away from her. “You are mine, and you will never be allowed to forget that.”
Chandra felt the tears of her violation hot on her cheeks. “You claim me by right of law and strength, Tedric, but we will both always know that I am not yours! Never!”
***
By the time Edythe and Sir Mallory were ready to exchange their vows, there were few family friends left in London. A grander affair could have been planned to take place in Anselm, but Edythe could not wait a day. She preferred the small, intimate gathering. And there was more joy in this ceremony than had been seen in any of the other family weddings over the years. Indeed, the glow in the eyes of the bride and groom made it the grandest wedding by far.
Even though there was gladness in this union, Conan’s mood was not light or gay. He was sullen and quiet, and Alaric grew more concerned with every passing day. It was not until Conan was alone in the stable tending to Orion that Alaric found the opportunity to speak to him.
“Sir Mallory and your sister will not travel with us to Anselm. Mallory has taken a modest house in the city and will deliver Edythe to me when he is ready to meet Richard in France.”
“What of Thurwell?” Conan asked with little enthusiasm. “Does he stay in London with the bride and groom?”
“I hope not,” Alaric laughed. “I believe he intends to offer his services to you for a time.”
“Good,” Conan replied. “I can use another man, even for a short time.”
Alaric stood back and watched his son move around the stable, gathering a feed bag, pitching hay into the stall, brushing Orion’s shiny coat. For a long time neither spoke.
“You do not find much joy in your work,” Alaric finally said.
“There is little challenge in it,” Conan replied.
“I have not asked you to stay behind,” Alaric said.
“But you allowed King Richard to think that as my father you chose to keep me in England to serve you,” Conan said, looking at his father now.
“I could have urged you to go and did not,” Alaric replied.
“And if I go, what then? What of Stoddard? There is little time to find a vassal for that land. Medwin grows less capable with every day--what of Phalen? And Edwina--she tells me there is life within her womb: a son? How would she fare in my absence?”
“She would live. And Medwin has another son by marriage to give him aid.”
“I should trust Tedric to manage lands that will be mine?”
“Would you trust me?” Alaric asked.
“My lord, I would trust you in all things, but you need no more burdens. You carry more than is fair now.”
“Who makes me out to be so weak of body and mind?” Alaric blustered. “By the rood, I am capable still, and should I learn that I am your excuse, I will show you by my own hand whom you call old and weak!”
“You alone? Nay, Father, but a host of others that make me feel the ties of England, and they are strong ties. I doubt Edwina could bear the separation. She is not strong--”
“How you deal with your wife is none of my concern, but I could see to her welfare. I am to tend a house filled with complaining women in any event; one more will not tilt the cart.”
Conan straightened and looked at his father. “I have given madam, my mother, my word that I would not go to war. She fears for my life and the estate that should fall to me.”
Alaric stood erect and quiet for a moment. “That is her reason?” he finally asked.
“And that there will be estates left floundering by nobles who do not return. She is right: it could add plentifully to our lands.”
“Is that wisdom--or greed?” Alaric asked softly.
“Her motives are not selfish. Too many lean upon me for me to leave them to fulfill a private desire. There will be wars enough that I cannot avoid.”
Alaric did not know how to advise his son. Conan would be no less a man for not going on the Crusade. He would still be a powerful lord in his own time, and he would not forget the ways of fighting. But a broken spirit would hinder his future, and that was what Alaric feared.
“You are an honorable man, Conan,” Alaric said. “There is only one thing I have not been able to teach you. I shall never be able to teach you.”
Conan looked at Alaric with a quizzical expression.
“There comes a time in every man’s life when he can no longer meet all of his obligations, when his loyalties are too far-reaching for him to maintain them properly. It is as precarious as scaling a high wall, his own desires causing him to lean one way and the needs of others forcing him to lean the other way. To and fro he stumbles, balancing the weights.”
“Until he falls?” Conan asked with little enthusiasm.
“You scale that wall now. The wants of those you’ve pledged to support could be confused in your mind with needs.”
“I can abandon those who depend on me and seek my own adventures, but will I find happiness in breaking my word?” Conan asked sullenly.
Alaric chuckled. Although Conan was not yet twenty-five years old and had already burdened himself with many demanding dependents, that was not the cause of his misery. Rather, it was his reluctance to stand up for his own desires, to choose the best direction for his own life.
“When all these that you serve are gone, who will you serve then?” Alaric asked.
“There will be others,” he replied testily, aggravated with his father’s riddles. It was a habit of Alaric’s to weave these little webs and let Conan struggle for the answers. He could never just give his advice and be finished.
“Ah, there will be others,” Alaric confirmed. “For as long as you are so willing to please, there will be many to offer you the chance to do them service. But there is only one man, I think, who can reward you justly for your honor.”
“The king? When he thinks me a coward and a fool?”
“Not the king,” Alaric said.
“Who then?” Conan demanded impatiently.
“When you find him, son, and begin to serve his needs faithfully, you will find the burdens others would have you carry just a bit easier to bear.”
On the day before Tedric and Chandra were to depart from the city, Tedric took Chandra to Alaric’s home to visit Edwina. It was a gesture of goodwill that amazed both Chandra and Medwin.
Once there, he spoke to Alaric. “My lord,” he said humbly, “it sits ill with me that I have angered you. If my ways were roguish, I pray you forgive me.”
Alaric was taken aback by the apology and looked at Tedric skeptically. “A once-fond friendship has been rent apart,” he said. “The door between your father and me is closed.”
“I cannot accept blame for that,” Tedric said. “You would have closed that door had I falsely accused Conan. But our wives are sisters. There must be a peace that is at least livable.”
Alaric nodded once. “I will not close my house to you when you seek only to reunite family. But Tedric, I will not try to mend this break with Theodoric. And I cannot speak to Conan for you.”
Tedric smiled and bowed, excusing the old gentleman. Conan would not stay in the hall and left immediately after wishing Chandra well, without a word to Tedric.
Udele would have escaped also, for she, most of all, wished to avoid Tedric. But when he begged a moment of her time she could not refuse him, fearing he would state his business while others were near enough to hear.
“Your debt is free, lady,” he said in a hushed whisper.
“So you show your true colors,” she hissed. “I should have known you did not come here on a mission of kindness!”
“Richard has claimed the records of the lender’s debts,” he advised her. “Yours will be included, I suspect. Though the king might not easily find the man who borrowed for you, I could help him. A bauble or two will keep me quiet a while longer,” Tedric whispered.
“I have nothing!” she insisted.
“How well is your future fixed when Alaric and Conan learn of our dealings?”
Udele’s eyes were alive with the hate she felt for him.
“Do not ask too much of me, Tedric,” she warned. “Do not make the anger of my husband and son seem a better bargain.”
Udele watched Tedric leave with hardened eyes. She was one of the few to know just how trapped Chandra really was.
Chapter 14
Sir Tedric was fortunate in that the silver he owned had lent itself to a practical use. There were men to be found who did not relish war but would swear to serve a young knight in England. He paid his scutage to Richard, and with twenty new men-at-arms Tedric rode into Cordell. Chandra rode behind him. She did not smile or wave. But Wynne, feeling the exuberance of coming home, beamed in pleasure to those villagers who watched them enter.
Tedric was most anxious to view this holding and set out immediately with some of his men to look through the town. When he was gone, Chandra turned to Wynne. “If you tell Sir Tedric one word of our forest guard, I will beat you myself!”
“But lady, he is--”
“For the time being, Wynne, don’t think. I must see your father at once. Bring him to me before Tedric returns.”
Shaking her head in confusion, Wynne left the hall to go to the small house that her father, Sir William, kept.
Chandra looked about the room. It was orderly, and more benches and trestle tables had been supplied by Agnes, William’s wife and loyal caretaker of Cordell.
“You have always pleased the nobles in this hall, Agnes. I have no doubts about your talents. I have sent for Master William. When he comes, send him to my chamber.”
Then, with a great deal of worry on her mind, Chandra went to the storeroom to draw out some money and placed it in a bag. She noted with pride that the sum kept at Cordell was not touched by any of the castle folk or residents of the village. And while she hoped this action she took was unnecessary, she greatly feared that Tedric’s hand would find its way into this vault and allow himself more than he deserved of Cordell’s revenues. She intended to avert that from happening.
Not much later, in her chamber, Master William entered and stood before her. “We have not much time,” she said, indicating a chair opposite her, a table that served as her writing desk between them.
“My husband, Sir Tedric, has brought men-at-arms with him,” she said.
“I saw them, lady.”
“I believe he will use them as guards,” Chandra went on. “I think we will let him do that without argument.”
“And the forest guard? And the men on the coast?”
Chandra sighed. “For the moment, I think it best to show my husband little of Cordell’s secrets. Use care in sending your people in and out of the wood. And this,” she said, pushing the purse filled with coin toward him, “should be put in a reserve for a day when some emergency arises.”
William raised one brow. “You do not trust the new lord. Your marriage...?”
“Much against my will,” she said, looking down at a parchment and writing, though she did this only to escape William’s eyes. What she wrote did not make any sense to her later. “I dearly hope that he will prove a good lord and gentle husband, but in the event that the opposite is true, we must be prepared.”
William’s frown bore down on her.
“Perhaps my words do not give Tedric his due, William. This will be his burgh too, as he shares it with me. He has in good faith lent me the right to manage my dower as I will, but I have known Tedric to be cruel and wicked, and I fear he can be again. Do you know why I warn you?” she asked coyly.
“I think so, lady,” he replied.
“Clearly, an arrow perfectly placed from the wood or the town might well end my troubles as I see them, but it would serve no good in this burgh. You would swiftly see the town in flames. And Cordell would no longer belong to my family.”
“Aye, lady,” he said, rising. “And there is no one to avenge us under misrule?”
“Medwin is old. Those men-at-arms under his command can protect Phalen Castle well, but I cannot depend on his support now.”
“And Sir Conan?” John asked.
Her eyes became glassy and looked past him to some distant place. Then she caught herself and looked again at her parchment, taking up the quill and making some marks on the page. “I would not lay that burden to Sir Conan now. You do not know the extent of the fief wars that could follow.”
“Aye, lady,” William replied, but he did not know. The battle would reach a great deal farther than Cordell. It could easily grow to include all of Alaric’s holdings against all of Theodoric’s. Conan could lose everything. And she would not ask him to take that risk.
William stood and tucked the purse into his belt. It was not well hidden, but neither did it seem to draw much notice. He was bowing to leave, when the door of her chamber swung wide and Tedric entered.
Chandra rose. “My lord,” she said, still uneasy with this title she must lay to him now. “Master William is our head huntsman. You can count on him to bring anything you request from the forest. His talents supply much of what our tables bear.”
“Food does not concern me,” he said, throwing his gauntlets onto her desk. “I can see your father’s eagerness to see you wed. This town is like sleeping prey. My men will see it better kept from now on.”
“Thank you, Master William. You may go.” She turned to her husband. “I will rest easier knowing you have seen to the protection of this burgh,” she said. She heard the door close softly as William left them.
“It is small, as I was promised. But it will do,” he said.
“It could be larger,” she offered. “We could easily extend the farming land--”
“I can’t see the need to waste my time trying to make this piddling acreage into something grand. There are other lands to be had.”
“Tedric, your dreams are bigger than your ability--”
“The beautiful Chandra,” he said sarcastically, reaching out a hand to caress her cheek. “The fair damsel. You’ve grown accustomed to hearing about your beauty and strength, haven’t you? You’ve learned to enjoy the worshipful look of every young lad that passes. In time you will feel less like a goddess.” He turned to walk toward the door that joined their chambers. “Send Wynne to me,” he said. “I have need of her.”
“Tedric, she
is a young lass and does not know the ways of--”
“Never mind, Chandra. The lass knows more than you credit her for. She would not thank you for your interference.”
“You must not take advantage of her naivete. She does not know--”
“Very well, I will find her myself,” he said, leaving the room.
With a touch of panic, Chandra ran hurriedly to the hall below, where she found Wynne with her mother. She brought the girl to her chamber and made her stay close. For several days Tedric gained a fair amount of amusement from the way Chandra kept the girl under her protective wing. She even had the girl place her pallet beside Chandra’s bed to sleep there at night, until Tedric strode in and asked Wynne to leave them in privacy. Tedric was not gentle, and he used her body to please himself just as he used her land to get him the money he needed for more profitable ventures.
She warned Wynne to be careful to keep herself from being alone with Tedric. “I am afraid he will take advantage of you,” she said. “He looks at you in a way that frightens me.”
But Wynne’s look clearly said she pitied Chandra for so badly misjudging a good man. “You do Sir Tedric wrong, I fear. Lady, he has been nothing but kind to me.”
She could do nothing to make the girl see. In truth, while the castle folk were a bit wary of their new lord, as they would be with any new lord, Tedric had done nothing to cause them to fear or hate him. In the time he took to acclimate himself to Cordell, he did not act any less than a chivalrous and honorable knight.
But hardly a week passed before Wynne came to attend her one morning with eyes downcast, dark circles under them. She had been crying.
Chandra sat on the edge of her bed while Wynne knelt to hold the slippers to her feet. She put a finger under the maid’s chin to raise her face. “Wynne?” she questioned softly. She gasped at the large bruise on the maid’s cheek.
Wynne let her head fall into Chandra’s lap, and all her pent-up anger and humiliation bled itself out in tears. Chandra lightly stroked her hair and back, knowing what had probably befallen the lass. It was a long time before Wynne’s crying ceased.