by R. R. Vane
“The punishment will suffice,” Tristram flung grimly in his cousin’s direction.
The priest glared and looked displeased, while the other knight gave a grave nod.
“It was a fair punishment,” FitzRolf said.
Judith had a hard time holding her tongue, and she opened her mouth to protest, but a pointed look from Tristram made her clamp it shut. He was still holding the doubled belt in one hand, and she had no doubt he would make renewed use of it if she didn’t hold her peace.
“Aye,” Tristram tossed out at FitzRolf with a grim nod of his own. “Now that it’s done and over with, we’ll rest and break our fast.”
He cast a telling glance in her direction, and she stared at him.
“Our men are hungry and weary,” Tristram went on in that hard voice he employed of late. “You’re still the lady of this house, aren’t you?” he added pointedly.
She widened her eyes at him, barely able to comprehend. She’d already surrendered her home to him, which meant she now no longer held any status here. Unless he meant to keep her on as his wife. But this seemed incomprehensible to her. She’d spurned him and had sought an annulment of their marriage. And she’d chosen Eleanor’s cause over Henry’s. Surely, she could no longer be Tristram’s wife or the lady of this house. She was now just a vanquished foe he meant to swiftly remove. Yet Tristram’s dark eyes bored into her, making her focus on his words.
“Give orders, wife, and ready things for our rest and repast,” Tristram called out sharply.
Judith breathed in deeply and decided to gather her thoughts later. It was now better to hurry to do her punisher’s bidding. Her tarrying or nursing her sore bottom would be to no avail. She was soon to learn what fate he had in store for her anyway, and at this time it seemed better to behave sensibly. Her pointless defiance would not help her people or her mother or, for that matter, herself. Striving hard to regain her composure and not to rub her blazing bottom, Judith proceeded to do her duty as the lady of the house, going to instruct the servants on what needed to be readied.
It was good to dwell upon menial chores, rather than on the sting in her behind and on the humiliation Tristram had bestowed upon her. Dame Berthe, who’d been responsible for most of the household duties, had passed away this winter due to a fever, and now these duties fell mainly upon Judith, since her mother’s health and disposition were far too frail. In the past years, Judith had sought to learn these duties as well as she’d been able to, so now they came naturally to her. She now conferred with her people regarding the lodging and feeding of the men who’d come upon them. To Judith’s relief, none of her people chose to ask how she fared after the punishment she’d received, and she felt grateful for it, finding it easier to forgive those who’d seemed to find a measure of entertainment in her spanking.
It was perhaps an hour later that things were ready for a meal, with benches and tables set in the Hall to accommodate each and every new man. Judith was loath to share the meal at the lord’s table which she’d readied for Tristram and his peers, yet she had no choice but to comply when her husband beckoned her by his side, making it all too plain he was still her lord.
“Sit, wife,” he bid, not even deigning to look at her.
Judith tried to sit down, but jolted upright due to the fierce sting in her behind. It seemed Sir Tristram’s belt had done an even more thorough job than she’d thought.
“I’d rather stand, my lord,” she said with a heartfelt glower.
The laughter which reverberated around her made her blush crimson, as Tristram’s men began to make merry over the chastisement the lady of the house had received. Even the dour priest gave a malicious grin, but Tristram didn’t laugh or smile.
“Was that defiance I saw in your eyes, wife?” Tristram asked, his voice was steely.
Judith straightened her shoulders.
“What do you wish me to say?” she countered, feeling truly weary of what had gone on today.
“She’s still defiant,” the priest cut in, with a look of sheer disdain. “‘Tis obvious you should cast her away and send her to a convent for her treachery. It is the only course left.”
Judith simply shuddered at the words, imagining harsh scissors cutting away her long hair, which she’d always thought her one glory. She imagined grey walls, stifling silence, and joyless prayer. Was this the fate Tristram had in store for her? She stared at him with undisguised anger in her eyes. Tristram didn’t miss her look.
“Perchance you wish me to teach you another lesson here and now, wife,” he said as their gazes locked.
She now openly glared at him, no longer caring what would happen to her. It was the other knight’s voice, the one called FitzRolf, which cut in pointedly, “My Lord De Brunne, perhaps you and your wife should settle this in private.”
Judith could only feel grateful this lord would spare her the humiliation of another public spanking. But her heart started thumping in anguish when Tristram took his friend’s advice and grabbed her by the arm, leading her to the stairs, and then to her bedchamber. He knew very well where her bedchamber was. After all, they’d shared it for the brief time he’d resided in her home. Judith recalled those times, and she recalled a Tristram who had behaved very differently from the grim, forceful knight he’d now proven himself to be. When they reached her chamber, he swiftly closed the door behind them, and Judith fully expected him to take her over his knee again. She cast him a defiant look, vowing to bite her tongue rather than succumb to new tears when he spanked her.
Nevertheless, Tristram made no gesture after he sat himself in a chair. Instead he talked, in that hard voice he’d used all day, “We both know you’ve betrayed me, but we are still wed, in spite of your endeavours to undo our match. The Church and the King urge me to cast you aside and force you to join a convent. Your home and lands will be mine by rights, since you’ve no kin on your father’s side they could revert to. Besides, you have surrendered them yourself. Now Redmore will be secure and will become a stronghold against Henry’s enemies.”
Judith closed her eyes in weariness. She should have expected this, since there seemed to be no other course open to her. She’d not thought herself married to Tristram any longer, but the Church’s ruling had made her into both a sinner and a traitor. Since they were still wed, she was formally guilty of standing not only against the King, but also against her husband.
“However,” Tristram added, “no law in this world forbids a husband from seeking reconciliation with an estranged wife. Since we are still wed, no man, even a king or a priest, can overrule my word in this. You could remain here, as the lady of this house and as my lady.”
Judith opened her eyes in sheer surprise.
“In spite of everything, you would be willing to keep me as your wife?” she asked with raised eyebrows.
“Aye. As my chastened, repentant wife,” Tristram said stressing words which made Judith purse her lips in sheer anger.
She had spurned him by seeking to end their marriage—that was true. Yet she’d not betrayed him in any way. She had not meant to stand against him. It was just the decision of supporting Eleanor’s cause against Henry’s which she’d made. It was a decision several other noble families had made, and that Judith understood she would make again, because she believed Eleanor’s cause to be right. Nevertheless, Eleanor’s supporters had been defeated and Henry now kept her imprisoned. Judith assumed most of Eleanor’s vanquished followers had been punished with exile or even death. So she supposed Tristram’s offer was gracious, but she couldn’t help feeling anger at the disdainful way he spat the word chastened. The fierce sting in her behind made her go over the hard spanking she’d received in front of all to see.
Tristram must have perceived the anger in her eyes, because he laughed mirthlessly. “A bleak choice for you, my lady, is it not? Joining a convent or staying on as my wife. As I recall, being my wife seemed to you a fate worse than death, did it not?”
Judith avoided looki
ng at him, because she fully recalled how it had been between them. And she did not want to think upon what had been. She strived to look only upon the present time. Two choices then. Both bleak.
Tristram went on savagely, with a disdainful wave of his hand, “Not that you deserve it, but I’ll give you a third choice. You and your mother could escape in the deep of the night, and I’ll bid my men tell they haven’t seen you. Your mother has kin in Aquitaine. So you could head for Dover and find a ship. And you’ll be free of me, just as you’ve always wished.”
Judith thought of her mother, and of how her mother had always hated this cold land.
“What of our vows? You said we are still wed.”
Tristram shook his head with a mocking smile on his lips.
“I’ll ask for an annulment. And something tells me the Church will be inclined to grant it this time.”
The sunny picture of Aquitaine was however replaced by the image of her home in Judith’s mind. Redmore was her home. And she’d always loved it fiercely.
“So you’ll have me leave my home in the dead of the night as if I were a thief. This is my home! And you’re the thief!” she cried in a high voice, not caring he’ll make good on his threat and give her another spanking right here and now.
“It was your home, which you lost through your own treachery. You’ve just surrendered it and it is rightfully and honourably mine. And you…”
He paused with a twist of those sinfully beautiful lips.
“You are mightily lucky I’m still willing to suffer you as my wife,” he added at last, staring away from her in sheer disdain.
Judith hated the word suffer just as much as she’d hated it when he’d spoken of her as chastened. Yet she raked a hand through her hair understanding the choices before her were clear. Life entombed in a convent. Escape to a new land, leaving behind everything she’d known. Or a life of bleak servitude in her former home, on Tristram’s sufferance. All were hard choices.
“Your wife…” she found herself repeating with a shake of her head.
“Aye. Mine. To share my bed as a proper wife should. To do as I see fit, and be chastened for disobedience whenever I see fit.”
Judith had the urge of instantly rubbing her scorched bottom. The manner in which Tristram had chastened her today left no room for doubt he had sound punishments in store for her. It was hard to reconcile the picture of the hard, grim warrior who’d spanked her with his sword belt with that of the gentle, courteous knight who had slept chastely by her side in those first days of their marriage. She had not allowed him to bed her, even if he had been within his rights to do so, and he had not pressed for it. He had not forced her to lie with him. But things had changed, and she had no doubt now he’d demand what he had graciously refrained from taking. She thought of sharing her body with Tristram, and blushed fiercely, understanding, like so many times before, that this was a part of their marriage she’d have no difficulty complying with. As always, she lusted after him, even after the hard spanking he’d given her today.
“Your wife,” she repeated, dumbly, striving to hate this man for what he’d done to her.
Tristram said nothing, and Judith frantically wondered, like so many times before, if she’d ever managed to fully hide from him the scorching lust she felt whenever she glanced upon his beautiful form.
She reasoned there was no helping it. A convent was the last place where she wanted to spend her life, and Aquitaine was an uncertain choice and an arduous journey for her mother. Most of all, she could never leave her people. With her father gone, they depended upon her. She just couldn’t leave them at the mercy of the man who’d nearly set siege to her castle.
“I-I choose to stay,” she muttered almost inaudibly.
Tristram raised his dark eyebrows, which were, just like his eyes, in such strange yet pleasing contrast with his fair hair.
“I would have you state it loud and clear,” he uttered in a tone which left no doubt who held the advantage in this arrangement.
Judith suppressed a sigh. It was, she tried to tell herself, the only choice she had left.
“I shall be your wife,” she said resolutely, knowing this was a bond she would no longer be able to undo.
“There’s no return from it. And I will have no more false pledges or treachery from you,” Tristram told her in a hard voice.
In silence, they returned to the Hall, to join the table, and Judith tried to hold her head high and her back straight, knowing all eyes were upon her and recalling they’d witnessed her deep humiliation.
“Strive to look repentant!” Tristram hissed to her between his teeth right before they reached the high table.
“Whatever for?” Judith couldn’t help saying venomously. “Besides I am certain you already plan to teach me repentance later.”
“That I do,” Tristram retorted softly, taking hold of her arm and leading her to the table.
Judith began to fear he would truly spank her anew, right there at the table in front of all to see, just as callously as he’d done before, but he only made her sit by his side, on the hard wooden bench. Judith winced at the pain in her rear as she did so, but the pain seemed somewhat lesser than earlier. It was uncomfortable to sit down, yet she could bear it. So she bore it, resolving not to give Tristram or any of the men at the table the chance to see her eyes fill with tears.
Tristram’s cousin, the churchman who was called Isidore, instantly perceived she meant to defy them.
“Your wife doesn’t look chastened to me.”
“Desist. She has already been punished today,” Tristram said quietly, taking a sip of wine from the goblet which lay in front of him.
There were displeased mutters from several of the men in the Hall, who, Judith thought in rancour, were without doubt keen on witnessing her further humiliation.
“Her eyes are dry of tears, and she stares upon us haughtily,” Isidore persisted, casting Judith a glance meant to thwart her.
“I have already vowed to school her to obedience. And I shall certainly make it my purpose. Now can I eat in peace?” Tristram flung out.
Isidore frowned in return.
“Her head’s uncovered. She looks like a loose woman!”
Judith’s long black hair was fashioned in a simple long plait which she wore upon one shoulder. Of late she had become used to wearing it like this again, since she’d considered herself an unmarried woman and it had been simpler not to wear a wimple. But Isidore plainly took her uncovered hair as a sign of her sinful behaviour and of the way he thought she’d spurned her marriage vows. In churchmen’s eyes it was shameful for married women not to cover their hair.
Tristram shrugged, as if he was not greatly concerned by the priest’s words, and Judith painfully recalled him telling her once that her black hair looked wondrous and that it was a shame to cover it. She gritted her teeth, striving not to dwell upon the past, but only on the present moment. At present, Tristram was speaking in a level voice.
“Rest assured, cousin. My lady wife is bound to learn only too well what is expected of her.”
Isidore arched an eyebrow, but under Tristram’s steady gaze, he reluctantly refocused his attention on his own meal. Judith stared at the trencher in front of her, recalling she hadn’t had a morsel to eat today, but knowing she wouldn’t be able to force a single bite down her throat. Yet her husband wouldn’t let her be.
“Eat. Now. I say,” he commanded her in a terse voice which left no room to wonder what he would do if she didn’t comply with his command right now.
Was this what her life with her husband would always be from now on? This life with this new and different Tristram? But perchance Tristram had always been like this – willing to completely rule over her – and she’d not been able to see it before. Judith stifled a sigh and she willed herself to chew on a chunk of bread. However it was not for fear of Tristram’s punishment that she was forcing herself to eat, but rather because she knew she would feel ill and faint later t
his evening if she didn’t. She forced herself to take the morsel of meat on Tristram’s knife, which he had cut for her.
“Thank you, my lord,” she muttered in a sullen voice, making her ungracious tone at odds with her gracious words.
His dark eyes looked daggers at her.
“I’ve given you a kind reprieve, but soon I shall cure you of your defiant ways,” he said grimly, and his words rang loud, for all to hear.
Judith strived to make herself ignore the deep feeling of shame she still harboured about the way he’d chastened her.
Chapter 2
Sheer relief coursed through Judith’s veins when later Tristram allowed her to go and look upon her mother in the solar. Judith did that without tarrying, knowing her mother would be anguished and would want to know what had occurred upon Redmore’s surrender. Yet the exhaustion of the day had obviously taken its toll, and Lady Fenice was already asleep at this early hour when Judith stepped in. Judith allowed herself a while to sit down on her sore bottom and simply gather her thoughts, ensconced in the privacy of her mother’s quarters.
It was plain Tristram now hated her, and he had cause for it, since she had indeed spurned and humiliated him by seeking an annulment of their marriage. And it was plain he meant to make her life an ordeal for it from now on, but Judith knew if she were to make her choice again, she would still say aye to his offer. She loved Redmore and her people, and could not ever picture her life elsewhere. So she supposed she should give her prayers of thanks for having been allowed to remain in her home. She strived not to think at all of what Tristram must have in store for her tonight when she finally regained her bedchamber, where she already supposed he would be waiting for her.