Hostage Bride

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Hostage Bride Page 9

by Anne Herries


  ‘Perhaps they will not come tonight.’

  ‘I pray you are right, my lady,’ the soldier said and lifted his cup to drink. ‘This is very good, far tastier than we sometimes have.’

  ‘Elspeth’s daughters prepared it.’

  The soldier nodded but continued to eat and drink in silence. The men had all taken their share of bread and soup. Rosamunde picked up the empty bucket and began to descend the stone steps that led back down to the outer bailey. She had reached the bottom when she heard a shout from above. Looking up, she saw the men had crowded to one spot on the battlements and were looking out towards the woods. From the cries and excited gesturing, she guessed that some kind of activity had been noticed.

  A shiver ran down her spine. Being under siege would not be pleasant for any of them. She’d checked the stores at the back of the kitchen and knew there was sufficient food to feed them all for two to three weeks, but after that they would run short of many foods. Meat would need to be rationed and so would flour, for it was only September and the stores had not yet been ordered for the winter. Of preserves there were almost none. Raphael had brought fresh peaches and other luxuries from Normandy, but nothing had been pickled or dried for winter use, and that meant if a siege went on for too long they would starve.

  Returning to the kitchen, Rosamunde found the women warming ale. More bread was being prepared for the morning and some oats had been put to soak to make porridge.

  ‘What is happening?’ Elspeth asked. ‘We thought we heard shouting.’

  ‘I think there is some activity, but for the moment I know as little as you. We must wait until someone sends to tell us what is needed,’ Rosamunde replied.

  ‘What shall we do if the enemy breaks through the defences?’ Lilia asked and looked frightened.

  ‘It will not happen,’ Rosamunde assured her. ‘Lord Mornay is an experienced soldier. He knows how to defend the castle.’

  She smiled at the other girl confidently, but inside she too was suddenly anxious. Supposing the baron’s forces were too strong? They might all be killed. She might never see her father or her home again.

  She pushed the thought to one side. Raphael would never let that happen. She did not know why but she had learned to trust him implicitly.

  * * *

  Raphael went to the ramparts to look down. A large group of armed men had gathered beneath the walls. He judged Baron Sigmund had brought perhaps twenty of his men with him, which was enough to make a statement but not sufficient to lay siege to the castle.

  ‘It seems he comes in peace,’ Mellors said cautiously.

  ‘Perhaps. This may be just the advance. We shall go carefully. Send a man out under a white flag to ask his business,’ Raphael ordered.

  Even as he spoke there was a fanfare of trumpets. When it ended a knight rode up to the gates bearing a white flag.

  ‘My lord Baron Sigmund begs entrance. He would speak with Sir Raphael, now Lord Mornay. He comes in peace.’

  ‘If we let twenty men inside they could wreak havoc,’ Mellors said. ‘Give me your terms, my lord, and I shall go down.’

  ‘The drawbridge stays up,’ Raphael decided quickly. ‘Go out through the side gate on foot. The path is narrow across the moat and only one man may pass at a time. Baron Sigmund and five of his knights may pass, and I shall guarantee their safety, but no more.’

  ‘Yes, my lord.’

  ‘God protect you. Know that if you are foully slain we shall avenge you,’ Raphael said solemnly.

  ‘I have no son or wife to mourn me. I do not fear to die, my lord,’ Mellors said bravely.

  ‘Yet you shall not if we can prevent it. A dozen bows will be trained on them. If I sense treachery we shall fire and you must retreat swiftly,’ Raphael urged.

  ‘It shall be as you order, my lord.’

  ‘Go then, for I would know what Sigmund wants here.’

  Raphael watched as his steward went back down the steps that led to the ramparts. The men and horses jostled impatiently outside but there was no attempt to bring up engines of war or attack the walls.

  After a few minutes, he saw his steward emerge from the small side gate and go across the narrow walkway to the assembled soldiers. He was carrying a white flag and it seemed that his words were listened to and heard.

  The talking went on for longer than Raphael liked, and he sensed that there was some anger amongst the men below, but then an agreement was reached and six of them dismounted and followed Mellors back across the narrow ridge of rock into the castle.

  Raphael left his position and went steadily down to the courtyard, where he waited alone to greet the incoming party. He knew that at least a dozen bows had turned in his direction and would fire if any of the newcomers attempted to attack him.

  ‘This is a fine welcome,’ a deep voice boomed at him out of the darkness and a large, thickset man stepped forward. ‘I sent word of my coming and yet you close your gates against me.’

  ‘These are parlous times, sir,’ Raphael replied and walked towards him. Now he could see the bushy red beard and flowing locks that he’d been told of and knew it was Sigmund himself. ‘Yet if you come in peace you are welcome, sir.’

  ‘Your father and I quarrelled,’ Baron Sigmund said. ‘Now you are lord in his place and I would have peace between us. I came to offer my friendship despite our differences. Your father was for Prince John and I stand for the King.’

  ‘I have just returned from the Crusades and have no desire to quarrel with any man. If His Majesty returns to claim his throne I shall welcome him, but I take no sides until then,’ Raphael said cautiously. After all, the baron could be Prince John’s man and hiding it to try and flush Raphael’s true loyalties out.

  ‘You have a wise tongue for one so young,’ the baron said, gaze narrowed and wary. ‘Come, will you take my hand and accept my friendship?’

  ‘Friendship is something that must be earned,’ Raphael replied. ‘However, I am not your enemy, sir. My father quarrelled with his neighbours and I would live in peace with them all. If you truly wish to end your quarrel with the Mornay estate, I shall not refuse you.’

  He strode towards the man, offering his hand. Baron Sigmund took it, clasping hard with both hands.

  ‘Come, sir,’ Raphael said. ‘May I offer you some wine and a bed for the night? You are welcome to stay with us this night, and those men you have brought to protect you, but the others must remain outside. I shall ask if there is bread and ale for them, and for you I dare say a more tasty supper may be prepared.’

  ‘My escort will sleep on the floor of your hall and I need only a blanket by your fire. I am a rough man, and much of what they say of me is true, but I am honest. I shall not break the truce between us, but be warned: if you betray me, I shall take my revenge,’ the other man said gruffly.

  ‘I am a man of my word,’ Raphael said, looking him straight in the eye. ‘Your men may rest easily here. We have no quarrel with you or them.’

  ‘Then I shall sup with you and we shall discuss the future. Your father and I crossed swords and quarrelled because we both wanted the same woman. In future, it would be best to set boundaries and take our share of the spoils,’ the baron declared.

  ‘I have no wish to prey on others. I came home to live in peace, sir. My father may have taken prisoners for ransom but it is not my way,’ Raphael replied, courteously but firmly.

  ‘Then we shall not argue over the spoils,’ Baron Sigmund said and laughed. ‘Yet I would warn you to watch your back. If others believe you to be weak, they will seek to take what is yours. In this world only the strongest survive.’

  ‘I am not ignorant of the world, sir. I know that ruthless men take what they please and care not for the pain they inflict. Yet I would warn you, and any others who may think me weak, that I protect what is mine—and that includes my women and my servants,’ Raphael said grimly.

  Sigmund’s eyes narrowed, then he gave a harsh laugh. ‘You are no fool, Sir Raphael. I
believe we shall deal well together.’

  ‘We shall take some wine together while supper is prepared,’ Raphael said. ‘Come, sir, we shall talk privately in my chamber.’

  * * *

  ‘He has invited the baron to take supper with him?’ Rosamunde stared at the steward in dismay. ‘Does my lord not know of the man’s reputation?’

  ‘Baron Sigmund is a ruthless enemy and he rules much of the countryside around here. My lord must walk a tightrope, at least until the King returns to bring order and justice to England. Then perhaps the baron will be brought to heel—but until then we must tread carefully. The baron did not come to fight this time, but it might be different another day,’ Mellors explained.

  ‘I think Sir Raphael risks being tainted by association,’ Rosamunde said snippily. ‘We shall prepare supper, as you ask, but pray tell my lord that I shall not sup with him this evening.’

  ‘I believe Lord Mornay intends to dine in private but I shall convey the message to him at a convenient time,’ Mellors replied respectfully.

  Rosamunde inclined her head. She fetched a capon that had been plucked and cleansed earlier from the larder and threw it onto the board, taking up a small axe to chop it into quarters and toss it into a pan with butter, herbs and onions.

  ‘At least we are not being threatened by a siege this night,’ Elspeth said as she prepared some worts and added them to a mess of stew that had been simmering for the past hour or more. ‘Be careful, lady, or that pan will burn.’

  ‘It would serve them both right,’ Rosamunde said crossly as she tossed the chicken and moved it to a part of the grid where the flame was not as hot. A part of her was relieved that the tension of the evening had melted away and there would be no bloodshed, but she was disappointed that Raphael had invited a man like Baron Sigmund to dine in private with him. She had thought him different but now it seemed he was much like his father. Surely he would not join the lawless bands that became rich from preying on others less strong than themselves?

  Chapter Six

  ‘You should be wary of Sir Raphael, mistress,’ Maire said the following morning. They were alone in Rosamunde’s chamber for she had sent the other women to break their fast. ‘If he dines in private with a rogue such as Baron Sigmund, you should not trust him.’

  ‘We do not yet know his reasons,’ Rosamunde said, though Maire’s thoughts were not unlike her own. ‘Mayhap he would make a friend of the baron rather than bring an army upon us.’

  ‘I warn you for you own good, my lady,’ her maid said. ‘If you begin to like this man too much, he will break your heart. I have seen the signs before and I would not see you caught in his trap.’

  ‘You need not fear for me,’ Rosamunde said brusquely. ‘I mean to ask him later if he will permit me to gather herbs and berries in the woods with my ladies. Indeed, I shall go in search of Lord Mornay now and do just that.’

  Ignoring Maire’s shake of the head, she left her chamber and ran lightly down the stairs to the hall. There she stopped abruptly, catching her breath, for she saw Raphael in conversation with a large man with flowing red hair. The man had seen her over Raphael’s shoulder, his gaze narrowing as it moved over her. His intense stare brought heat to her cheeks and, instead of approaching Raphael as she’d intended, she turned away and went out to the courtyard.

  * * *

  ‘Are you ready to go foraging?’ Elspeth asked. She and her daughters had brought baskets and were clearly prepared for the morning’s work.

  Rosamunde had honestly intended to ask permission before leaving the castle but a sudden surge of rebellion had overtaken her. If she were truly a hostage, she would be locked in her chamber. There was no reason why she should ask Lord Mornay’s leave to go foraging for herbs and berries.

  She looked at Lilia, who was much her height. ‘Please give me your cloak, Lilia. You will remain here and continue with the mending, so you will not need it.’

  Lilia looked surprised but removed her cloak and handed it to her. Rosamunde slipped it around her shoulders, bringing the hood up to cover her head.

  ‘Let us go now,’ she said. ‘Some things are best gathered while the dew is still upon them.’

  Glancing back, she saw that Raphael and Baron Sigmund had emerged from the hall and were standing together in the courtyard. Neither of them looked at the women as they left the inner bailey. As they walked through the outer bailey, to the small side gate used by tradesmen and the previous night to broker a parley, Rosamunde’s heart was thudding. She could not help wondering if they would be ordered to stop and prevented from leaving the castle. However, only one of the men patrolling the walls gave them a second glance, and he merely smiled and waved at Beth.

  ‘Ferdie is my sweetheart,’ the other girl confessed and blushed as Rosamunde looked at her. ‘One day, when he has saved enough money to buy a house and land for the pig, we shall marry.’

  ‘You should not hold your hopes too high,’ Elspeth warned her daughter. ‘Ferdie needs more than a pig and a cottage before you can marry. He needs a strip of land where he can grow wheat or rye so that you have corn to make your bread for the winter. While your father lived we always had bread, but after he died and the strip passed to his cousin life was very hard. Had Lord Mornay not sent for us, we might have starved this winter.’

  ‘Perhaps Ferdie could hire some land from Lord Mornay,’ Rosamunde said. ‘If Ferdie is a freeman he has the right to work the land for himself.’

  ‘The old lord stuck to the feudal system and demanded service two days a week,’ Elspeth said. ‘I did not know that it was possible to hire land for coin. How do you know this, my lady?’

  ‘I know because my father had tenants who farmed land that belonged to him. He allowed them to pay him in silver pence, but then he had to sell most of the land and the tenants lost their rights, for the next lord would not let them pay in coin.’

  ‘Then it is no different,’ Elspeth said. ‘He would still be dependent on the will of the lord.’

  * * *

  ‘Perhaps. There might be another way,’ Rosamunde said and then smiled and shook her head. ‘I cannot make promises yet. Now, tell me, please, where should we look to find the best herbs, berries and wildflowers?’

  ‘Who was the beauty?’ Baron Sigmund asked Raphael as Rosamunde walked away. ‘I had not heard that you were married.’

  ‘I once had a wife,’ Raphael replied, his lips white and his mouth set in a thin line. ‘The lady you saw was my—guest. She is under my protection until I can see her safely to her home.’

  ‘I remember you warned me that you protect your women.’ Sigmund grinned at him. ‘I need a wife, for my last died in childbed. Will you give her to me? I like red-haired women. They are more spirited than their fair cousins.’

  ‘The lady is my guest, as I told you—but not mine to give in marriage to anyone, even had I a mind to part with her. I may ask her to be my wife if things go well between us.’

  Why had he added that last sentence? Marriage had not been in Raphael’s mind until this moment. Yet if Sigmund thought it was true, she should be safe from his attentions.

  ‘So that’s the way the wind blows.’ Sigmund chuckled. ‘I wish you joy of her, my friend. Yet, if you change your mind, I will reward you handsomely for her. Now I must take my leave for I have other business.’

  ‘We are agreed on a truce between us, then, for Richard’s sake?’ Raphael asked.

  ‘Aye, my lord, we are. I live by my own rules, but Richard is our rightful king and Prince John a tyrant. He will suck us all dry with his taxes. The sooner Richard is home, the better,’ the baron declared.

  ‘More money is needed for his ransom. It is my intention to approach lords who might be of like mind. I thank you for your advice, sir,’ Raphael said.

  ‘I am glad of this meeting. Now, if you will excuse me, I shall leave you,’ the baron replied.

  The two men walked out into the courtyard. The drawbridge was let down on Raphael�
��s signal and horses were brought for the baron and his men. He watched as the column of armed men moved away and frowned as he recalled the baron’s request to be given Rosamunde. The idea of her wed to a man like that appalled him. She had said her father was poor, and therefore such a marriage might be approved for her, but the very idea of it turned Raphael’s stomach. She was too beautiful and fine for such a coarse brute. If Raphael had her guardianship, he would never let her go to a man like that!

  Raphael turned back towards the castle. He was thoughtful as he entered the hall. Baron Sigmund had assured him that he was for Richard, which Raphael believed was true, and they had agreed not to interfere with one another. It would be an uneasy truce at best but was better than open warfare. Even on the Crusades the proud barons had quarrelled and fought amongst themselves. At home quarrels frequently resulted in fighting over land or women.

  He had an uneasy feeling that they had not seen the last of Baron Sigmund. He had not liked the gleam in his eyes when he had spoken of liking red-haired women because they had more spirit; Raphael could just imagine what that meant! He would never let Rosamunde go to such a brute—never. She would no doubt be safer wed—but to such a man? Impossible.

  It was a pity that the baron had seen Rosamunde at all. Raphael had hoped that he would be on his way before she left her chamber that morning. He supposed he had been remiss in not sending word that she was to remain in her chamber. He had not wanted to restrict her freedom, but now he regretted the lapse. He’d seen Sigmund’s intense interest and knew that, despite his fair words before he left, the baron would not hesitate to take her for himself if the chance came his way.

  He ought to warn her that she must not leave the castle alone. Raphael had told her once before that she was free within the confines of the castle, but he’d also intended to allow her some freedom outside, providing she was accompanied by at least three of his guards. Now, he thought it best that she stay safe within the castle walls until he was certain the baron had moved on.

 

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