A Knight's Vengeance (44 page)

"I must go back," she whispered, even as she kissed him with equal fever.

"Nay."
Geoffrey lifted her into his arms and took the stairs to the solar two at a time. Striding to the bed, he sat her on the edge, yanked off her slippers, and slid her bliaut over her head in one fluid motion. He kissed her until her she gasped and quivered.

His hand slid beneath her chemise.

"Geoffrey," she whispered, "we cannot."

"You belong to me." With gentle hands, he pressed her back on the coverlet.

She shook her head. "Impossible."

"If you do not believe, let me show you." He coaxed her with his mouth, his fingers, and tender words whispered over her flushed skin.

When the tempest consumed her this time, Elizabeth soared with such joy she wished she could hold Geoffrey in her heart forever.

She wondered when the dream would shatter around her.

*
    
*
    
*

Arthur stood in the tent's entrance and watched Veronique secure a clinking leather sack to the front of her horse's saddle. He had given her half of the silver in the chest. The remainder she would receive at Branton, providing she kept her end of the bargain. She had not liked his stipulation, but with a furious nod, had agreed.

Veronique turned to him.
"Till the morrow, milord."

"You are a lady of your word?"

She tittered.
"Lady, nay.
But I will not fail you. The portcullis and drawbridge shall not bar your way if you arrive at Branton Keep as arranged."

"Do not betray me, Veronique."

Her eyes flashed in the twilight. "You question my trustworthiness
after
parting with your coin?"

Viscon laughed and heaved his body up onto his horse, a roan as ugly as its master.

"I paid a great deal for your help, Veronique," Arthur said and started toward her, his surcoat flapping in the breeze. "You, in turn, offer me no guarantees but your word. You must agree 'tis not much to weigh against a sack of silver." As her gaze hardened, he forced a genial smile. "You will understand, then, why I am sending men to accompany you, to ensure our agreement is met."

Her mouth tautened with anger, and he thought he heard her mask of rouge and powder crack. "You will draw attention to me. Do you think 'twill be easy for me to bribe the guards without de Lanceau finding out?"

"That is why I paid you well. If you cannot fulfill our arrangement, I will have the coin."

"Nay!"
Veronique gripped the bag. She looked prepared to gouge out his eyes if he tried to wrest the coin from her. "You may send your escort.
Two men, no more."

"Four," Arthur said. He would not underestimate Viscon. This time, Arthur had not bought the mercenary's loyalty. If he and Veronique decided to flee with the coin, 'twould take four able knights to subdue the brute.

"Four," she agreed with a sneer, "but I work alone."

"As long as the deed is done."

"Christ's blood
! '
Twill
be
."

Arthur signaled to the armed soldiers who stood nearby. He picked four of his trusted knights and ordered them to their horses.

"Milord."
Aldwin strode over from the fire, buckling on his broadsword. "I beg you to let me ride escort as well."

Arthur shook his head. "There is much to do here before the morrow."

"I must go!" The squire flushed. "Milord, I cannot sit idle when Eliz—milady—is violated by that whoreson."

"I like it no more than you," Arthur said with a growl, "but a rash challenge from you will not free her. You will remain with the rest of the soldiers. Go. Check my sword is sharpened and my horse is rubbed down."

"Already done, milord," Aldwin said.

"Do the tasks again."

The squire's eyes blazed, but he bowed and stalked off toward the horses.

Veronique sat in sullen silence upon on her mount, her curls crushed beneath her cloak's fur-trimmed hood. He sensed her fury, reined in like the animal beneath her. The wench seethed, and from more than his demand to send an escort. She wanted to see de Lanceau suffer. She wanted to watch him die.

Arthur did not envy de Lanceau in the least.

"Can we trust her?" Sedgewick asked in a low voice, coming to Arthur's side. The baron had found a meat pie somewhere and crammed it into his mouth.

"Veronique will do as I paid her."

"My dear Elizabeth."
The baron swiped crumbs from his chin with his tunic's sleeve. "The morrow shall not come soon enough."

With a terse command, Veronique kicked her horse toward the road. The sentries followed a few paces behind her and Viscon, and hoofbeats reverberated into the night air until the party disappeared from view. Veronique never looked back, and Arthur did not mistake the slight.

Nor did he miss the anger in Aldwin's eyes as the squire strode past into the tent.

Arthur sighed and turned to the baron. "Will you join me for more wine?"

The tent's opening snapped open and Aldwin brushed by with a woolen blanket, and headed for the tree where Arthur's destrier was hobbled.

"May I drink with you in a moment?" Sedgewick
asked,
his eyes bright. "There is a small matter I must see to first."

"Of course."
Arthur stepped into the stuffy tent which still smelled of rosewater, but after a moment's hesitation, pulled back the flap and watched the baron hasten after Aldwin. Sedgewick's belly wobbled from side to side with each of his furtive steps, and he did not slow down until he caught up with the squire. They disappeared behind the destrier.

What did Sedgewick require of Aldwin?

Mayhap he wished the squire to tend his horse or give it an extra ration of oats. Shrugging, Arthur dropped the flap and reached for the wine. Whatever the baron needed, Arthur doubted the matter was of great consequence.

*
    
*
    
*

Elizabeth awoke to shouts in the bailey. Blinking to clear the sleep from her eyes, she saw the sky beyond the solar's window was blue-gray.
Near dawn.
She rolled onto her side, dragging the snug bedding with her, and found Geoffrey had risen. He stood silhouetted against the firelight, pulling on his hose.

A knock rattled the solar's doors.

"Milord!"
Dominic's cry sounded urgent. A tremor of unease rippled through Elizabeth. Clasping the bedding, she pushed up to sitting.

Geoffrey shrugged into a burgundy tunic, ran to the doors and yanked them open. Dominic strode in. Alarm buzzed in Elizabeth's veins. His face grim, he wore a broadsword strapped over a chain mail hauberk. The iron helm tucked under his arm gleamed like a bleached skull.

"What has happened?" Geoffrey demanded.

"An army approaches.
At least a hundred knights."

Tugging down his sleeves, Geoffrey froze.
"A siege!
I should have foreseen Brackendale's treachery."

"Father?"
Elizabeth wrapped the linen sheet round her body and leapt from the bed. She ran to the windows and looked out.

Dawn's watery light glinted off the conical helms of mounted knights. Foot soldiers trailed through the stubbled fields on the other side of the lake, pikes held high as they marched in formation toward the keep. The rumble of wagons carried like distant thunder. She skimmed the lines of men, trying to recognize her sire, but the head of the procession had already passed from view.

"Why has he come?" Elizabeth whispered, whirling to face Geoffrey. The sheet tightened around her body, restricting her movement. "You agreed to a melee in Moyden Wood."

His mouth compressed to a bitter line. "I did."

"Why would my father bring his army to Branton, then?"

"I have been betrayed."

The dead calm in Geoffrey's voice slammed into her. Fear tore through her—for her father, for herself, and most of all, the rogue who had made her soul and body glow.

"Who would dare to betray you?" she shrieked.

He did not answer. His gaze shadowed, and he looked at Dominic. "Send the women and children below to the storage rooms. They will be safe there. Wake every able-bodied man and order them to the bailey.
Double the guards at the gate.
No one enters or leaves."

"Aye, milord."

Elizabeth held her breath until the doors clicked shut behind Dominic. She trembled. "Geoffrey, what will you do?"

He strode to the wooden chest against the wall, shoved open the lid, and withdrew a suit of mail armor. "What I am expected to do.
Fight."