Bond of Blood

by Roberta Gellis

  In spite of Leah's growing fears, all ran smoothly enough at first, except that she felt too much wine was poured and drunk all over the hall. Cain kept taking his lower lip between his teeth and biting it as if it were slightly numb, and, by the time the roast meats were removed, his speech was slurring a trifle over difficult words.

  It was in the middle of a discussion on tapestry making that the peace was broken. The men seemed to have run out of small talk, Hereford looking anxious, Oxford looking worried, and Radnor looking drunk. The women alone were speaking, raising their voices steadily to combat the rising noise from the lower tables where the men-at-arms ate. Suddenly Leah and Lady Oxford were drowned out completely as the voices of the men reached a new pitch and a dozen of them leapt to their feet, poniards drawn.

  Hereford, Oxford, and Radnor all bellowed at once for their men to sit still and keep the peace, but by now all were too hot with wine and temper to hear or care. More joined the combatants, and the three leaders rose quickly to go down and pull them apart before lives were lost. Instead of falling away under the hammer-like blows of their masters' fists, the mass congealed.

  Radnor was the first to go down; never easy on his feet, he was cleverly tripped and disappeared under a battling crowd of men. Hereford struggled like a madman to reach his friend, but every time he broke a hold, others seized him to draw him back, and then he went down too. Oxford, less encumbered, also seemed to be struggling to reach the fighting men and he shouted from time to time for them to hold their hands. The swarm above Radnor heaved as he exerted his strength to throw them off, flattened as the effort proved unsuccessful, and heaved again.

  In the end it was the newest servant rather than the old retainers who freed his lord. Harry Beaufort, unlike Giles who had thrown himself into the struggling group at once, at first remained seated at the very end of the high table with a faint frown on his face. A few minutes after Lord Radnor went down, however, he calmly took a flaming torch from one of the wall holders and began applying it indiscriminately to backs, heads, and buttocks of the heaving group over his new master. In seconds Radnor was free and was surrounded by a wall of angry men while Giles helped him to his feet.

  The rest of the fighting quieted as if by magic. Hereford's men helped him up and dusted him off. Oxford babbled apologies and excuses. Leah stood like a statue, unmoving and without a sound, her hand on her own small dagger. She had jumped to her feet and begun to pull the knife when Cain went down, but she had been seized from behind and after a brief struggle had frozen into immobility. Somewhere within her frozen faculties she heard Hereford's anxious voice and then her husband's husky, unshaken tones replying, but she could not make out the words because her ears buzzed so. She knew too when Radnor reached the table, although her misted eyes could not see clearly.

  "I pray you, my lord, that you take me to our chamber. I should like to retire and rest. I find this entertainment a trifle too exciting after a day's travel." She could not believe, as she heard it, that the normal, quiet voice was her own.

  They went out and up to the tower room assigned, protected by a hard-eyed group with murder in their hearts. In the same normal voice Leah bade her maids fetch water, and she helped Radnor undress with perfectly steady hands. With the same steady, gentle hands she bathed and anointed his wounds, mostly small cuts and tears from knife points that could not fully pierce the hidden mesh of steel. She wrung and folded the cloth she had been using, capped the ointment jars, handed both to Alison.

  "You may go. I will not need you again tonight," she said, and as the door closed, she crumpled to the floor in a dead faint.

  Leah knew nothing of the furor she caused, the excitement being very little less than that occasioned by the attempt on Radnor's life. His anguished cries brought nearly all his own men, Hereford and half of his, and, eventually, the only people of any use, the ladies of the castle, on the run. These last, when they could finally make their way through the crowd on the stairs and induce the men in the room to let them through, cleared the chamber and put the poor girl to bed. She began to revive naturally a few moments later, and, seeing her eyelids flutter, Lady Oxford assured Radnor that his wife would now be perfectly well and withdrew.

  Cain had never been so shaken with fear in his whole hard life. "What did you do that for?" he asked in a low, vicious voice as soon as her eyes focused on his.

  Leah dropped her lids and tears leaked out under her long fair lashes. "I am sorry," she faltered, "I was frightened."

  He caught her into his arms then, smearing the bedclothes and her naked body with salve and blood, and held her so tight she felt strangled.

  "Do not do it again. I do not like it."

  The voice was hard and angry, but Leah could feel the pounding of her husband's heart against her breast and the tremor of his arm muscles. He had not been affected that way after the fight, so it had to be fear for her. Terror and weakness notwithstanding, Leah's sense of humor was tickled by Cain's ridiculous remark. She smiled feebly.

  "I did not do it on purpose, I assure you."

  "I did not say you did it on purpose," Radnor replied, his voice rising with the irritation of relief, "but I will not have it. I forbid you to do it again—absolutely forbid it. Now what is so funny about that?" he bellowed, for Leah was laughing openly at the silliness of commanding a frightened woman not to faint.

  She did not answer, however, only pulled his head down to kiss him until the level of his breathing slowed to normal.

  When he disengaged his lips, Cain sat looking at his wife broodingly for some time. Now that he had a chance to think at all, his thoughts were not pleasant. In spite of the preparations he had made, he had not believed, since his talk with his father, that any attack would be made upon him. The events, however, had proved Gaunt wrong and Llwellyn right. Pembroke did plan to have him killed and expected to escape the ill consequences for the very reason that Radnor thought he would not dare.

  If one took the time to work out the tortuous path, it became clear enough. While Gaunt lived, no one could say that Pembroke would profit from Radnor's death; not even Gaunt would think of it. And Pembroke planned to cover himself additionally by thrusting the blame on Oxford, Lady Shrewsbury, and the king and queen. It would be normal, if her husband died, for Leah to return to her father's protection. Then Pembroke had to do no more than keep her unmarried and wait for Gaunt, who was old, to die.

  The business with Chester was not only an attempt to get Fitz Richard's property but also to insure Pembroke the reversion of Gaunt's property. By betraying Chester and Hereford, Pembroke believed he would gain Stephen's and Maud's favor. And, Radnor thought, new light breaking in on him, Maud as well as Stephen had probably encouraged Pembroke to believe this was true.

  After the betrayal, Pembroke would have to come to court to be invested with the land rights. He would come, but he would never leave, and the king and queen would have in their hands to do with as they pleased very nearly all of Wales and western England. Radnor shrugged his heavy shoulders and smiled. They were all mad together to think such a complicated thing would not fall of its own weight. First, it would not be in the least easy to kill him, as both Maud and Pembroke should know. Second, it might yet be possible to turn Chester and Hereford from their plan.

  But Leah had told him that Pembroke wanted her for ransom. Why? To keep him off guard? And when the attempt on him had failed she had fainted. She said she had fainted from fear—doubtless that was true enough, but from fear for him or from fear because her father's plan had miscarried? Then she had laughed, and cozened him with kisses.

  Cain slid one strong brown hand around his wife's slender throat. He would press no viper to his breast to sting him to death. Leah had closed her eyes, but at his touch she opened them. No fear misted them. The greenish irises were clear as glass, the expression as trusting as a child's. Radnor tightened his grip, but Leah only smiled and turned her head to kiss the fingers of his other hand, which lay upon h
er shoulder.

  Cain snatched both hands away, and Leah looked startled for the first time. A moment later she was crimson; she had been too bold again, bestowing kisses unasked. Still, when Cain rose from the bed her hands clung to his as he moved away.

  She is very young, Cain told himself. She could not know, keep her counsel, and act in such a way. If she wished to betray me, she could have slipped a word abroad about the mail shirt I wore. The clinging hands nearly convinced him so that he turned back to her and leaned forward expecting to catch a whispered plea that he stay with her. The eyes seemed to plead, but the lips, trained to obey the dictates of duty, stayed mute. Cain was dissatisfied, but he knew now that he could not bring himself to hurt her. Since he could not leave her behind or send her away either, it was best to remain on good terms. If she was innocent, it would be foolish to give her a reason to hate him by harsh treatment for which she would know no cause. Cain patted Leah's cheek kindly.

  "There is no need to fear. You are in no way endangered by this. No one wishes you any harm. Now I must go down to my men. I have a few things to say to them that may well save us from similar broils another time. Oh, I will warm their ears for allowing themselves to be trapped into this."

  Leah lay trembling and praying. She had thought that once she held her lord in her arms she would be at peace, but she saw that her mother had been right and that to love a man was to live from moment to moment in a torment of fear. The minutes crawled by slowly. Now it was growing dark, and still Cain had not returned. Leah drew on a robe and stole to the door. At the faint click of the latch, four men in the antechamber jumped up, their hands going automatically to their weapons.

  "Stay still, madam," one said gruffly, and Leah closed the door.

  Her fear could not be greater; instead a blessed numbness took hold of her. She took up Cain's gown and embroidered steadily, and even when, long after the watchmen had called midnight and she had once renewed the candles, the sound of footsteps and voices penetrated the door, her hand did not falter nor did she raise her eyes from her work. The door opened and closed and a halting step came across the room. Leah laid down her embroidery and closed her eyes to fight off the faintness that came with utter relief.

  "You are still awake! I was sure you would be sleeping, so I sent no message fearing to disturb you. When I came down I found Hereford trying to discover the cause of the uproar. The only thing he found was that whoever planned this is clever as a snake. It seemed best to go back to the hall as if we believed it to be an accident. Get you to bed now, madam. The earlier the better away from this place."

  "Let me help you disrobe."

  Cain came up and rested a hand on her shoulder reassuringly. "I sit awake tonight. Nay, do not look so aghast, Leah, there is no cause to be afraid. I will keep you safe."

  As her own safety was the last thing with which Leah was concerned just then, this scarcely gave her comfort, but there was nothing she could do. No sight could have been more welcome to the tired girl lying perfectly still with wide staring eyes than the light of dawn, in which Radnor stood up and stretched his somewhat cramped limbs. He had no need to dress or arm, having changed silently to his traveling costume soon after Leah had gone to bed.

  When Cain and Leah reached the great hall, Hereford too was ready. His face was somber, showing faint bluish patches beneath his eyes, for his fair complexion was readily marked by every sign of strain. They breakfasted politely, but with all possible haste, and Leah began to breathe a little more freely as they made ready to leave in the courtyard.

  Radnor watched Leah lifted into her saddle by her groom and prepared to mount his own horse, always a painful process because of the need of putting his full weight on his left foot in the stirrup. Ordinarily he eased the strain by grasping the pommel and pulling himself up. He was just about to do so when a blow on the shoulder and a scream of "Ware! Guard! " made him throw up mail-clad arms to protect his bare head and neck and leap back from his horse in a crouch. He heard Beaufort cry out as he was struck and whirled to cover them both with his shield. From the corner of his eye he could see his stallion rear and fall, screaming with the pain of three deep-driven arrows. Leah's groom struggled to hold her terrified gelding, and in moments the courtyard was a seething mass of infuriated men and kicking animals.

  Sticky and warm, Beaufort's blood ran over the hand with which Cain was supporting him. More blood poured, dyeing the ground red as Giles grunted and cut the stallion's throat. Radnor went mad.

  Bareheaded and without the shield which he had left covering Sir Harry, he charged the inner door of the keep. It was shut and he flung himself against it again and again, calling his battle cry. His men rallied to the call; the door gave under the combined assault. The innocence of the greater part of Oxford's retainers was loudly proclaimed by the ease with which the keep was reduced to a shambles, but no evidence could halt the impetus of Radnor's rage. It did not matter that few retainers were armed and even fewer put up any fight at all. Radnor's men, well seconded by Hereford and his troop, raged through the castle led by their blazing-eyed master until battlements, stairways, and the great hall were awash with blood.

  Nauseated with reaction but not yet sated, Radnor faced a trembling and unarmed Oxford. "Arm and fight," he choked.

  "I am no match for you."

  "Full armor for you, I will fight as I am."

  "No!"

  "I will fight you on foot as I am, if you will arm and fight."

  For a split second Oxford hesitated, since on foot the crippled Radnor was at a huge disadvantage. Then, "No."

  "Yield, then, for the craven you are or I cut your throat before the faces of your wife and children."

  "I am innocent of this," cried Oxford, bursting into tears. "I have done you no harm and wished you no harm. You cannot do this to me."

  "Can I not?" Radnor snarled, and lifted his sword.

  "Hold your hand, Radnor," Hereford intervened, arriving bloodstained and gasping from the courtyard. "Those arrows belong to your own men."

  "What!"

  "Ay, the feathering and crests are those of Gaunt, but I will lay my life against a copper mil that no man of yours loosed the string that sped them. However, six of your men are missing."

  "I know nothing of it … nothing … nothing," Oxford sobbed, and went down on the floor and embraced Radnor's knees.

  "You must let him be, for all that he deserves hanging," Hereford continued, his mouth twisted with revulsion. "There is no proof against him. I doubt not that the bodies of your men are buried or concealed or the pieces of them down the waste-fall, but who can prove that the men were not bought by someone else and fled on the failure of the plan? His men are one thing, but if you harm him personally, we will be arraigned for murder."

  "Dead men do not bring complaints," Radnor insisted, his eyes still red with anger.

  "Do you mean to put every soul in the castle—women and children, too—to the sword? There will always be someone to bring complaint."

  "Before God," wept the man clinging to Radnor's legs, "before God I had no part in this. Whether they were bought or slain—I had no part in it, no knowledge of it."

  "Radnor, for heaven's sake, you have taken vengeance enough for a mare's son. Give over. Let us go. Mayhap he even speaks the truth. His men were unarmed and unaware, without defense. Nothing stood between us and the keep but one door, and that only hastily locked, as one traitor might have done, not barred or bolted. This is a dreadful sin we have committed, to kill men unarmed and unaware."

  "A mare's son only? Is my man's life worth nothing?"

  Hereford came forward, wiping his bloody sword and sheathing it. Once Radnor stopped fighting and began to talk he was always reasonable. "Beaufort is hardly hurt. A wound in the flesh of the shoulder. He will mend quicker than your rage will abate."

  Without another word or glance, Radnor pried Oxford free of his legs and left the keep. Another horse was ready saddled for him, and the courtyard
was regaining some semblance of order under Giles' direction. Harry Beaufort was on his feet, and, though he had a bloodstained cloth round his shoulder, he stood sword in hand guarding Leah.

  "How much are you hurt?" Radnor asked him.

  "Nothing, my lord. A scratch that let a little blood."

  Radnor nodded acceptance and turned to his wife. "Are you all right, Leah? You are so pale. You were not hurt?"

  "I am perfectly well, but for God's sake, my lord, let us go from here before worse befalls us."

  "As quickly as we may. I stay only to gather my men, and Hereford the same. Giles!"

  "Coming, my lord."

  "What is the count?"

  "Six missing—did my lord Hereford tell you?"

  "Yes."

  "Half a dozen scratches that a cat could do better, and a broken arm."

  "A broken arm?"

  "The fool slipped in the blood on the stairs and must needs come down on one arm. He can ride."

  "Let us go then. Hereford I see is also ready. My belly crawls in this place."

  "Ay, you were always one with an uneasy stomach for such work," Giles remarked. "Mayhap it would be better not to go to a place where you expect blood pudding to be served, especially when you do not intend to finish the portion. Have you never faced a flight of arrows before or a knife in the ribs that you need run mad?"

  "Very well, very well," Cain replied irritably. "I know it was not well done. Were you so cool last night? Then you were crying out for blood."