by April Munday
“If you touch her, I will kill you. If you show her disrespect, I will kill you. If any harm comes to her while I am away, I will kill you. Do you understand?”
Edward said nothing. Henry kicked him. “Do you understand?”
“Yes,” mumbled Edward, as he struggled to stand.
“Good,” said Henry. “It’s time you understood that women are not put here for your pleasure. They are God’s creatures as are you and I and you will start to show them the honour that is due them.”
Henry walked past Edward and out into the street to fetch Solomon. He was in no mood to break his fast under Edward’s roof.
Eleanor had heard the quarrel between the brothers as soon as she left the bedchamber. She could not hear the words and it was only when she paused at the top of the stairs that she heard Henry threaten Edward. She was chastened to be the cause of their quarrel, but glad that Henry had made it clear that he would protect her.
Then she had heard a door slam shut and guessed that Henry had gone into the street; she was alone in the house with Edward.
She decided not to go downstairs, but to wait in the gallery until the servants began bringing food into the hall for them to break their fast. Her wait was not long and she went into the hall knowing that others were nearby should she need their help. That was where Edward found her a short while later. The left side of his face was bruised and swollen. She said nothing, but did not avert her eyes. Edward looked at her sullenly. “Henry feels I do not show you the proper respect.”
“Henry is, I think, a good judge.”
“Yet you have shared his bed these past few nights.”
Eleanor could not hide her gasp of surprise. Surely this was not a proper subject for discussion between a man and his female guest. The world outside the convent was very difficult to understand. “Because there was no room on the floor, not because of our lusts.” Eleanor reflected briefly, but this was no lie. Neither of them had acted out of lust.
Edward snorted, but that caused him some pain and he took a deep breath before he continued. “Henry’s lusts are unusual. I doubt you inspire anything of that nature in him.”
Eleanor’s thoughts went back to the way that Henry held her this last night. His hand had once again covered her breast and his hard body had pressed against her back. She had felt that there was some wonderful secret that lay just out of her reach, but that Henry could reveal to her if he chose. She didn’t know why Edward thought she would find Henry’s lusts unusual. It seemed entirely natural to her that a man sharing a bed with a woman would hold her in such a way.
“I may be a nun, but I know that men desire women and lay with them.”
Edward snorted again and regretted it. When he could speak again he said, “You would be better off with me.”
“I have my vocation and it is not to be a wife or mother.”
“Who said anything about marriage?”
Edward grinned and found that that hurt as well. He groaned and sank onto a bench by the table and dropped his head into his hands.
“Perhaps that is why Henry believes you do not show the proper respect,” she snapped.
Edward raised his head to look at her carefully. “Perhaps it is.”
Edward started to pick at the food, but eating seemed to cause him pain as well. Eleanor had touched nothing and was relieved when she heard Henry talking to one of the servants at the door onto the street. Then she heard his steps in the passageway.
He strode into the room, damp from the rain that was now beating against the window.
“Good morning, Sister Margaret,” he said. “Have you broken your fast?”
“No, I’m not hungry.”
“Then we shall leave now. Edward can follow when he’s ready.”
“But I have a cart for Sister Margaret.”
Henry glanced at her and Eleanor smiled at him. “I should prefer to ride Solomon.”
“Then come, he is eager to be off.”
Edward made no further effort to stop them and Eleanor followed Henry down the stairs and out of the house. It was raining heavily when they stepped into the street. Eleanor greeted Solomon, then Henry lifted her onto the horse’s back. He swung himself up behind her and took the reins from Sam, the kitchen boy, who had been holding them.
“Get closer to me and I’ll wrap my cloak around us both.”
Eleanor pressed herself against Henry as much as she could and he put an arm around her waist and pulled her closer, then wrapped his cloak around her. She rested her head against his chest.
“Are you comfortable?”
“Yes.” She moved herself slightly, trying to make herself more comfortable against his hard body, but they were moving before she could change position. She moved around, trying to find the right position.
“Keep still,” hissed Henry and she thought she must have hurt him somehow. If anything, he became more uncomfortable as she leaned against him.
“I must move,” she begged. “I shall be bruised and sore.”
Solomon stopped moving. “Do it now,” said Henry through gritted teeth, “and then be still.”
Eleanor pressed her chest to his as much as she could, wrapped her arms tightly round him and rested her head on his shoulder.
“Ready.”
She was shocked by the sensations that coursed through her body as they set off, but she dared not ask Henry to stop again. To her surprise Henry began to fidget and move around in the saddle, but she retained her hold on him. Even Solomon seemed uncomfortable and pranced along like a pony until Henry growled and set him to a gallop once they were clear of the town walls.
The roads were deserted, but muddy and Solomon could not keep up the pace that Henry had set him when they left the town. The rain gradually seeped through Henry’s cloak and Eleanor grew cold and miserable. She clung tighter to Henry in the hope of warming them both, but he shivered and she doubted he had any benefit of it.
Henry said nothing and she had no inclination to break the silence, sensing it was not a silence born out of an unwillingness to speak to her. She was beginning to understand that Henry was a man who liked silence. Although she liked silence herself, she sensed that Henry needed silence more than she did and the idea pleased her.
When she began to shiver Henry said, “It is not far now.”
For some time his hand had been rubbing up and down her back to warm her, but now he stopped and Eleanor felt a change in his body. He rested his chin on the crown of her head and spoke quietly.
“There are three riders coming towards us. Do not turn towards them unless I tell you to. Do you understand?”
She nodded enough that he would feel it. There were questions that she wanted to ask, but Henry’s attention was already somewhere else. She guessed that he must be thinking about what he had said to her about trusting to Solomon rather than to him and worried for a moment that he might leave her to Solomon and stop to fight these men. Then he said, “Hold on to me and do not let go unless I am dead. If I am killed or wounded throw me off and escape.”
She clutched him more tightly and tears pricked her eyes at the thought that he might be killed here. Henry released her and she felt a slight change in Solomon’s pace as if he, too, had become more alert.
“Hello, friend,” shouted a voice. Its nearness startled Eleanor.
“Good morrow,” replied Henry.
“How are the roads between here and the town?”
“Clear, but muddy.”
“This rain is no one’s friend. Your companion says nothing.”
“He’s sick with fever. The innkeeper threw us out this morning.”
There was a quiet exchange between the three men. Eleanor assumed that they were worried by her supposed sickness.
“There is fever in the town?”
“Some. No more than usual. My servant was unlucky.”
“You’re a man of wealth, then.”
Henry tensed even more; he had said the wrong thing. Eleanor
released one of her hands and stroked his back, then held on again before he could reproach her. She felt him relax slightly.
“Just enough to be able to afford a sick boy. And you, friend, are these two men your servants?”
Eleanor heard laughter from the men.
“No, we travel together for the sake of friendship.”
“Then I will keep you from your journey no longer.”
Solomon started walking again.
“Stay, friend. We will ride with you a while.”
“We go in opposite directions.” There was a firmness in Henry’s voice that had been missing before. Eleanor prayed that the men would heed the warning that it contained.
“A man should not travel alone; these are dangerous times.”
“I am not alone; I have the boy.”
“A sick boy will be no help if you are set upon by thieves and vagabonds.”
“Then I’m afraid I’ve given you the wrong impression.”
“How so?”
“You seem to believe that I would need help if we were attacked.”
“You would not?”
“No, I would not.”
Solomon started walking again.
“I think you are mistaken, friend.”
“Then let us hope you never find out that you are wrong.”
Eleanor heard a sound that she had only heard twice before and knew that the men had unsheathed their swords. Henry sighed and she remembered what he had told her about his injury, but she doubted they could outrun three mounted men with two of them on Solomon. Then she thought that Henry would make her leave him here. She was more exposed than he and she didn’t think he would let her come to harm if he could avoid it.
Henry pulled back the cloak so he could move his sword arm. Eleanor had felt him unsheathe his sword even before they had stopped moving to talk to the strangers.
“It’s a woman,” said one of the men. She didn’t like the way he said it and neither did Henry, for it was this that spurred him into action. He rode towards the man who had spoken and had sliced his sword into the man’s torso before he had a chance to do much more than raise his own sword. He screamed and clutched at his side, dropping his sword before he fell from his horse. The horse tossed his head and ran away. The other two horses smelled the blood and moved away from the fallen man, the whites of their eyes showing in their terror. Eleanor struggled to see what was happening without disturbing Henry, but could not afford to be surprised if the time came for her to use her dagger, which she had attached to her belt this morning as she had done each morning since she had been with Henry.
Henry turned Solomon and Eleanor could see the two men looking at one another uneasily. If they both charged, Henry would stand little chance against them, but it was Henry who charged. Solomon advanced so quickly on one of the men that it seemed he must run into the other horse. Eleanor closed her eyes as the collision became imminent, but Solomon pulled up and she heard the clash of swords as Henry fought the rider.
She opened her eyes so that she could see the other man. He was coming upon Henry’s other side. She was certain that Henry could not see him, but as he drew near Solomon took them out of harm’s way.
“Give up and go on your way,” shouted Henry. “I have already killed one of you. Do you also wish to die?”
“Nick had no time to defend himself, but we are ready.”
“My sword arm tires already,” said Henry quietly to Eleanor. “You must be ready to flee.”
Although she wanted to protest, Eleanor nodded. It would not help to distract Henry or to give him more worry than he already had, but it crossed her mind that dying here with him might be better than riding around countryside that she did not know on a horse she couldn’t control.
She could see the men approaching together; they had learned quickly enough that Henry knew what he was doing.
Once again, Henry did not wait for them, but aimed Solomon towards them. This time he didn’t stop but continued at the horses until Solomon hit one of the horses in the shoulder. Both horses reared and unseated their riders. Solomon stood completely still as Henry dismounted and went at the men on foot.
Now Eleanor saw that they had never stood a chance. The only way they could have bested Henry was to have fought together, but they were uncoordinated and Henry dispatched them both efficiently and quickly.
When it was over, Henry sank to his knees and dropped his sword. Eleanor scrambled down from Solomon and ran to him.
“Where are you hurt?”
“It’s my old wound. I cannot hold my sword. I’m sorry”
Eleanor looked at him helplessly. His face was pale and his lips were taut with pain. She could not tell whether the sheen of sweat on his face was from the exertion of the fight or the pain.
“Tell me what to do.”
“Can you...Can you make sure they are all dead?”
He sat back suddenly on his heels. Eleanor began to worry that she would not be able to get him back onto Solomon. Then she understood what he had asked her. Trusting that he would not ask her to do something so terrible unless it was necessary, she nodded.
“Yes, but you must get up. I cannot lift you.”
“You are a hard master.” Nonetheless he began to push himself forward.
Eleanor did not stay to help him, but went to each of the men in turn. It was unpleasant, but she understood why she had to do it. She hoped they were dead; it was one thing for Henry to kill them in a fight like this and another for him, or her, to kill them in cold blood. She glanced back at him and saw that he had raised himself to his knees. She did not think she would be able to kill them if they still lived.
Despite her reluctance she examined each of the men properly, so that she was sure that they were dead. By the time she got back to Henry he was standing. He pointed to his sword.
“You must clean it.”
“First you must get back on Solomon, while you still can.”
To her surprise, he smiled and nodded. She brought Solomon to him and he managed to get into the saddle with very little help from her. He sat awkwardly and she wondered if she should look at his arm before she dealt with his sword, but realised that once she got onto Solomon, if she got onto Solomon, it would be almost impossible to get off him again without causing Henry further pain or injury.
She cleared the blood from Henry’s sword as best she could in the grass, but knew it was not clean enough to return to its scabbard. Finally she wiped it in the cloak of one of the fallen men.
“We must leave their bodies here,” said Henry. “You are not strong enough to hide them.”
“Why would we hide them?”
“Because Edward will come this way and know what has happened.”
“They attacked us.” Now she did not understand what he was saying.
“There are very few people who will believe that a man with a woman on his horse could defend himself so well against so many.”
Eleanor wiped the rain from her face as she stared up at him.
“Edward would see you hanged?”
Henry thought about the question, then nodded. “Edward has changed these last few months. I hardly know him.”
Eleanor looked at the three corpses. If Edward did indeed want his brother hanged it could only be because they had fought over her this morning. It would be her fault.
“There might be a ditch a short way from the road,” she said.
“Eleanor, you can’t...”
“Henry, you have done your part. Rest a while until I can look at your shoulder.”
He nodded faintly. Eleanor knew then how greatly the pain must be clouding his mind, for she was certain that Henry would never have allowed her to help him in this way otherwise.
It took longer than she expected to move the bodies out of sight and she led Solomon into the trees to provide some shelter for Henry before she started.
The rain quickly washed the blood away from the road and no traveller today
would know what had happened here.
There was no ditch, but a slight depression in which she hid the bodies and covered them with fallen leaves. She looked around for fallen branches to complete the covering, but could find none. The peasants must already have taken them for their winter fires. When she returned to Henry they were both soaked to the skin and he was shivering uncontrollably. Despite this, he was still able to help her up in front of him with his left arm.
She pulled up her skirts and straddled Solomon so that she could face Henry.
“What shall I do for your wound?”
“There is nothing to be done, but it will help if you tie my arm tight against my body so that it cannot move.”
There was nothing to tie it with unless there was something in the saddle roll behind him, but Henry’s head fell forward onto her shoulder and she knew that he would not be able to help her off Solomon and back again to allow her to look. She thought about his cloak. It would make no difference now if they did without the little protection it offered against the heavy rain, but her fingers were cold and the cloak so heavy that she could not tie it, so she gave that up, then thought about his belt. Realising that it would be heavy and that the scabbard would get in the way, she undid her own belt and tied it around him so that he could not move his arm. Now she was struck by her stupidity; she was facing the wrong way and could not right herself without causing great pain to Henry. Their only hope was that he would remain conscious and able to control Solomon for the rest of the journey. She leant carefully against him and put her arms around him.
“This will have to do,” she said. “You said it wasn’t far and we can neither of us get wetter.”
Henry pulled the cloak around them both and took the reins in his left hand. At Solomon’s first step he groaned and Eleanor pressed herself tightly against him in an attempt to keep him still.
Henry urged Solomon to go faster and she felt the tension in his body as the pain took him, but he did not faint and he did not slow Solomon.
It was an uncomfortable ride for Eleanor. She rested her head against Henry’s left shoulder and was not surprised when she felt his chin rest once more on the crown of her head.