Lady Knight

by Marisa Chenery

  A heavy, hooded cloak covered her form. She stood in the shadows a few yards from the old thane’s hall, waiting. Alwen knew he was in there. It was only a matter of time before he came out. Broc would not be able to get rid of her so easily. She was still his wife, and he could not treat her so.

  At the sound of voices, Alwen stepped deeper into the shadows. Broc walked out into the night. He turned to talk to the person who stood in the doorway. The light shining in the hall cast enough brightness for Alwen to see who it was. It was Wulf, but a very different-looking Wulf. The face was his, but the body was that of a woman. Wulf wore nothing but a lawn chemise. Everything suddenly became quite clear. Wulf was actually a woman. Obviously, Wulf was not her real name. Alwen wondered why the girl posed as a man.

  The voices stopped, and to her horror, her husband pulled the girl into his arms and kissed her passionately. He never kissed her that way. Now all made sense. Broc rejected his wife only to make a woman who acted as a man his mistress.

  Silently, so as not to make her presence known, Alwen walked in the direction of the main hall. One thing ran through her mind—revenge. Broc would pay for the grave insult he had given her. He would pay if it was the last thing she did.

  * * * *

  Broc knocked at Alwen’s chamber. It was dawn. Time had come to tell her of his intentions. At her call, he entered the room and then shut the door behind him. She stood at the window with her back toward him.

  “I am leaving Elmstead for a few days. I go to London.”

  Still not turning to face him, Alwen spoke. “I bid you Godspeed, my lord. I hope nothing distressing has come about.”

  “Nay, nothing like that.” Broc hesitated for an instant, then forged on. “It has to do with our marriage.”

  Alwen spun around. Her face twisted in a scowl of rage. “What do you intend to do, my lord?”

  Broc took a deep, calming breath. “Since our marriage has never been consummated I wish to petition for an annulment, with William’s permission.”

  “How dare you?” Alwen shrieked the words. In an unexpected move, she threw herself across the room and slapped his face.

  She hit him with enough violence to snap his head to the side. When it looked as if she would strike him again, Broc caught her wrist in a vise-like hold. “Do not do that again, my lady. We are ill suited. We would only make each other miserable if our marriage continued.”

  All the fight drained out of Alwen. With eyes that shimmered with tears, she spoke in a quiet voice. “Am I not beautiful enough for you?”

  “I find you quite pleasing to look at. That is not the problem. There is another.”

  Broc’s words set Alwen off once more. “Is it that whore in the other hall? The one who pretends she is a man?”

  Broc stiffened at the insulting way Alwen spoke of Ariel. “How did you know?”

  Alwen’s laugh was anything but pleasant sounding. “That bitch is your mistress. I saw you together last night. She was practically unclothed, and you had your hands all over her for the entire world to see. How could you do that to me? I am your wife.”

  Broc released Alwen’s arm and took a step away. “You followed me? You have overstepped yourself. Whoever I decide to associate with is my business. You have no say in the matter. As to you being my wife, when I return from London, you no longer will be. I bid you adieu.”

  “What will become of my father and I? Where will we live?”

  Broc shrugged. “I guess you had better sober up your father long enough to make plans for your future. You may stay at Elmstead until my return, then I want the both of you gone.”

  * * * *

  Ariel nervously paced the room. With each step she took, the scent of the flowers mixed with the rushes beneath her feet wafted around her. She had watched Broc ride out of Elmstead on his way to London. Now she had to face Ranulf. She did not want to hurt his feelings, but there was no other way around it.

  She continued to pace. The sword that hung at her side slapped her thigh with each step she took. Deep in thought, she did not become aware of Ranulf’s presence until he came up behind her and pulled her against his chest.

  “I hope it is thoughts of me that has you so distracted.”

  Ariel turned in his arms and tried to smile, but she failed miserably. Ranulf’s slowly left his face. “What has happened?”

  With a sigh, Ariel stepped out of his embrace. “We have to talk.”

  Ranulf folded his arms across his chest. “I have a feeling I am not going to like what you are about to say.”

  “I do not wish to hurt you.”

  “You probably will. Is it about our betrothal?”

  “Aye, there is something you should know.” Ariel took Ranulf’s arm and led him to a bench. Once he was seated, she sat next to him and held his hand. “Last night something happened between Broc and I. It made me rethink a few things.”

  Ranulf grew stiff, and said in an emotionless voice, “He came to you. Have you decided you would rather be his mistress than my wife?”

  “Nay! It is not like that. He has gone to London to seek an annulment.”

  It seemed to take a minute for Ariel’s words to sink in. “Are you telling me Broc has never slept with Alwen?”

  Ariel nodded. “Precisely. He only found out about it. It seems Alwen hid the fact Broc had passed out on their wedding night, even from him.”

  “So he came to claim you. I should be angry, but I am not. I know you do not love me. You have feelings for me, but nothing compared to how you feel about Broc.”

  Ariel leaned in and softly kissed Ranulf on the mouth. “You are a true friend. I would hate to lose you over this.”

  Ranulf sighed. “I would not turn from you now. Broc probably told Alwen what he intended to do. With Broc away from Elmstead, life might not stay so peaceful.”

  * * * *

  William watched Broc pull his mount to a halt and then dismount in the yard. One of the guards had come to tell him Broc St. Ceneri was at the gates. He was not completely surprised by his friend’s arrival. It had been only a matter of time.

  Broc nodded at William and relinquished his horse’s reins to a guard, who led the animal to the stables. Slinging his pack over his shoulder, Broc went to William. “I see you were told of my arrival.”

  “Aye, come to the hall. You can quench your thirst with some wine.”

  Broc nodded. “I could do with some. When it permits, I have to discuss something of great import with you.”

  “When you have rested, we will talk. Come.”

  Broc probably did not need to rest. He was more than likely able to discuss his problem with him right at that very moment, but for some reason, he felt like playing with Broc.

  William motioned to one of the serfs working in the hall to bring them wine. Once it was poured, Broc took a sip from his goblet. He seemed to savor the taste. William threw back his head and laughed.

  “What is the matter? Have you not been able to get any good French wine at Elmstead?”

  Broc chuckled. “Nay. I am glad you find it so amusing. Try having to drink mead and ale all the time.”

  William cringed dramatically. “While you are here, I will arrange to have a shipment of wine sent to Elmstead. God forbid if you have to drink English ale every day.”

  Broc grew silent while they sipped their wine. Serfs busily cleared out the old rushes so fresh ones could be laid out. No one else was about.

  Broc broke the silence with a question. “How have the Saxon people adjusted to being under your rule? The last time I was here you expected some problems.”

  William shrugged. “There were a few incidences of unrest. I had them put down easily enough, but I do not think it will be the last. I must say these Saxons are a proud people. I cannot help but wonder if by taking the throne, my reign will not be a peaceful one.”

  “I know what you mean about these people, but you will do what must be done.”

  “Aye, even if I must fight
them with my last breath. They will have to accept me as their king.” Broc finished his wine, and William stood. “If you are rested enough, let us go to my chambers so we can talk privately.”

  Broc picked up his pack and then followed William to the back of the hall. Once inside, William sat behind his desk and motioned Broc to take the chair across from him.

  “So, my friend, you finally have opened your eyes and saw Wulf was your Saxon girl.”

  Broc gave William a surprised look. “You knew all along as well?”

  “Of course.”

  “How? You never told me. Was I the only person so utterly stupid not to see through her?”

  “It was by accident that I found out Ariel’s secret. Remember when I helped you tend her wound? When you went to see the healer, I found the bindings around her chest. After further investigation, I found out the boy was not what he pretended to be. I promised Ariel not to tell you.”

  Broc rose out of his chair and paced. “How could you, William? I thought you would never keep something so important from me. You could have saved Ariel and me a lot of heartbreak.”

  “Sit down. You are giving me a headache with all that pacing.” Once Broc was again seated across from him, William leaned over the desk to closely look at him. “I do not know exactly why I did not tell you. Maybe because there was a child involved. I figured you both had to work this out on your own.”

  Broc spoke with irritation in his voice. “To the point you would allow me to wed another?”

  “If it came to that. I had no idea how you would react when you found out you had a bastard child. I was lucky. My father loved my mother, and made me his heir. The way it stood, Colwyn had a strong protector in the form of his mother.”

  “How could you say that? I would never do anything to harm Colwyn. He is my son, and he will be my heir.”

  William nodded. “I am glad to hear it. Tell me what brings you to London.” He leaned back in his chair and waited for Broc to collect his thoughts.

  “I want an annulment from Alwen. I wish to wed Ariel.”

  “Are you saying you did not make your Saxon bride your wife?”

  “That is correct. On the night we wed, I drank heavily and did not perform my husbandly duty. I have not been able to bring myself to touch her since.”

  William steepled his fingers in thought. “How did you find out who Ariel was?”

  Broc scowled. “The guards my father-in-law brought to Elmstead decided to have some fun with her. I witnessed the attack and ran them off. Ariel’s tunic and bindings had been cut open.”

  So the chit had not told him. He had to give Ariel credit for not backing down on her decision. “I see she held firm to her word not to tell you. Seeing how Lady Alwen is still untouched, I can see no foreseeable problem in obtaining what you wish. I will have my brother, Odo, get the process started. As to your marriage to Lady Ariel, you have my permission on one condition.”

  “Whatever it is, I will do it.”

  William chuckled at how fast his friend agreed. “It is nice to see a man do anything for his future wife. It is something easy. I wish to return to Elmstead with you. I would not dream of missing your nuptials.”

  Broc smiled and let out a hearty bellow. “You honor us both.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Life at Elmstead moved at its regular pace with only a couple of changes that took place. With Broc in London, the villagers once more came to Swein with problems that needed handling. He was the thane and always would be regardless of who actually owned Elmstead. The other dramatic change was Alwen and her father’s disappearance. A few days after Broc’s departure, they were found missing.

  Ranulf had retired for the night, and in the morn, they were gone along with all they had brought to Elmstead. Ariel was just glad to see the back of Alwen and her father. Ranulf, on the other hand, predicted their late-night departure would not bode well somewhere down the road. Ariel told him his fears were unfounded.

  A week passed. Ariel spent her days in arms practice with Ranulf and caring for Colwyn. During the evenings, she relaxed with her father, Lily, and Ranulf. This evening had been no different from any other. The others had already retired, but Ariel was not quite ready to close her eyes for the night. Thoughts of Broc whirled madly inside her mind.

  She missed him. There was no doubt about that. She missed his touch and ached for him. The night before he had left for London, he had reawakened her body to desire. It now demanded what Broc could only give it.

  Looking at the night sky, at the millions of twinkling stars, Ariel wondered if Broc looked at them at the same time. Even though leagues separated them, they would be sharing the wonder of the night together. She shook her head at her silly musing. Love made her a romantic fool.

  Ariel turned and walked to her chamber. She stripped out of her tunic and trews and then replaced them with a chemise, the only feminine piece of clothing that graced her body these days. She went to the other side of the chamber to check on Colwyn. He slept on a small bed low to the floor. Smiling at her sleeping son, all soft and warm-looking, she gently placed a kiss on his chubby cheek. He did not stir.

  She climbed into bed and buried herself beneath the covers. In moments, sleep claimed her.

  * * * *

  Something was wrong. Ariel sat up in bed, trying to get her bearings. The smell of something burning tipped her off that all was not right. She looked at her chamber door. A cloud of smoke drifted under the bottom of it.

  Ariel bounded out of bed and then picked up Colwyn, wrapping the covers around him. Before she left the room, she gathered up her armor and threw it out the only window. She looped her sword belt over her arm. She would not leave her armor to be burned.

  She threw open the door to find the hall engulfed in flames. Panic tried to take over her senses. If the fire reached the thatching of the roof, it would fall in on them. Ariel tried to focus through the thick haze of smoke as she went to her father’s chamber.

  After pushing open the door, she spied her father’s sleeping form. “Father! Wake up! The hall is on fire!”

  At Ariel’s shout, Swein jerked awake. It did not take him long to pull on some clothes. Once dressed, he reached for Colwyn. “Give him to me, Ariel. I will carry Cowlyn.”

  Colwyn was now awake and had begun to cry. Ariel gently passed him to his grandfather. Before she left the room, she strapped her belt around her waist so her sword hung at her side.

  The smoke was so thick it was hard to see through it. Her eyes watered, and with heat so intense, each breath seared her lungs. With the hall burning all around them, they gradually headed to the entrance. The few minutes it took to cross the space felt more like hours to Ariel. By the time they reached the outside they coughed from all the smoke they had inhaled.

  The alarm had been raised in the village. A couple of village men came to help them. Once they were safely out of range of the fire, the wife of one of the men placed a blanket around Ariel’s shoulders. In her haste, Ariel had forgotten she only wore a thin chemise.

  Swein wrapped his free arm around her shoulders. “Are you all right?”

  Ariel coughed, trying to dispel the smoke from her lungs. “Aye, Father.”

  Now that they were out of danger, Ariel turned to look at the hall. Some of the villagers tried to fight the fire, but it was a losing battle. The building was totally engulfed by greedy licking flames. There would be nothing left once it ran its course. They would lose everything. It was then she remembered her armor.

  “Father, are you able to stay with Colwyn?”

  Swein nodded. “Aye, where are you going?”

  “I threw my armor out my chamber window before I left. I want to retrieve it.”

  “Fine. Just be careful you do not get too close to the flames. At the rate this is burning, I would not be surprised if the whole building collapses.”

  “I will be careful.” Ariel had already started to walk away.

  Ariel wrapped the blan
ket more closely around her as she walked to the back of the burning hall. It was not hard to find her armor. The flames reflected off the chain mail, making it flash in the darkness. She had thrown it far enough away, so she did not have to come close to the fire, but even at that distance the heat of the flames could be felt.

  Ariel let go of the blanket and bent to pick up her armor. As she did, she had the feeling she was no longer alone, that someone watched her. Straightening, she slowly turned around.

  One of Theodoric’s guards stepped into view. The man called Hugh. “Did you think you could get away from me so easily? Your Normans will not be able to come to your rescue this time. Especially with one in London and the other knocked senseless.”

  As Hugh lunged for her, Ariel threw her armor at him, hitting him square in the chest. The weight of the metal slowed him down, giving her enough time to draw her sword. With a bellow of outrage, the guard drew his and advanced on her.

  His skill did not match hers, but he made up for its lack in brute strength. With each block, Ariel’s arms felt as if they were being ripped out of their sockets. There was only one way to defeat that opponent—she would have to out maneuver him.

  After blocking a few more hits, Ariel found Hugh’s weak point and lunged, effectively disarming him. She placed the tip of her sword at the base of his throat. Instead of yielding, he laughed. She opened her mouth to cry for help, but a blinding pain at the back of her head silenced her. Before blackness engulfed her, the other guard, Godwin, step into view. She had underestimated her enemy. Her sword dropped from her hand as she silently fell to the ground.

  * * * *

  The sound of voices brought Ariel out of the darkness she had fallen into. That and the sickening jolt her stomach made with each bump that hit her. She cracked open her eyes, which produced the same sensation. She quickly shut them again.

  She tried to move and found it beyond her capabilities. After the events of the night before, she was not surprised to find her wrists and ankles bound by thick ropes. Ariel could only wonder what Theodoric’s men had in store for her.