Alinor (25 page)

"Listen again. On the fifth day from now, I will be married. On the sixth day—the fingers of one hand and one more, so many days—you will tell the messenger that ransom has been paid. Say, if he asks, that two marks were paid. You will carry him, bound, to some place on the edge of the wood. There, give him back this scroll, loose his hands but not his feet, and leave him some sorry, half-dead nag—ask Beorn for one of the reaver's horses for the purpose. Do you be sure he catch no sight of any of you in your huntsmen's garb. If needful, let the man who frees him mask his face and—" Alinor laughed, "and let him wear the man's own garments. After that use they must be destroyed, and so must the trappings of the horse if they be marked by the king's badge or in any other way out of the usual. Let one of the men hide his horse. I will send one who is not known as my man to dispose of it You have done very well, huntsman, very well, indeed. The coins are yours. When the horse is sold, I will give you its value to be distributed among your men—and I will add two shillings for the value of the clothes that must be destroyed. If the man's weapons are not marked in any way, they can go to the armory. If they are recognizable, they must go to the smithy to be suitably altered."

Alinor paused and thought over the situation. Had she covered everything? In the back of her mind she found that she was wondering where Beorn was and whether he had found Ian, instead of concentrating on the problem in hand. "Have I left aught hanging?" she asked the huntsman, too aware of her divided attention to trust herself.

"Nay, lady. Our part is clear."

"Do you know by sight the young knight who came with Beorn and has been teaching Master Adam?"

"Yea, lady."

"Find him and tell him quietly, that none may hear, to come here to me."

This was a fine opportunity to accomplish a multitude of purposes, Alinor thought, staring into the fire. What a good, obedient subject she was proving herself to be, paying a ransom of two marks for the king's messenger. And now, to add one good to another, she had a chance to test Sir Guy by offering him an enormous temptation. On the thought, the young man presented himself in the doorway.

"Come you in," Alinor said. "You have kept your parole, Sir Guy, and have done well and willingly each task I have laid upon you. Now, however, it is growing dangerous to have you here among my guests, and I have another task that may as well be done now as any other time. I have a horse that must be sold well off my lands, and secretly—at least the sale need not be secret, only the fact that I have had anything to do with the horse must be kept quiet."

"Very well, my lady."

"You may take some armor of the lesser sort, a sword, a lance, a blank shield, and the lesser brown destrier to ride. I will give you some money also. I do not care where you go or what tale you tell, so long as it be a decent distance and so long as you be returned here on the tenth day. The huntsman will tell you where to find the horse. Is all clear?"

"Yes, my lady."

It was interesting that he did not ask why she wanted to be rid of the horse; was he duller or cleverer than she thought? If she had guessed wrong, she would be the poorer by two horses and some arms and armor—a proper price to pay for overgreat trust in a guileless countenance. If she were right, however, if he did not ask because his loyalty was great enough to do anything, right or wrong, on her command, then she would have gained a really valuable servant. If Sir Guy did not run, having been given arms, armor, money and two reasonably valuable horses, he was truly a young man of honor. With a sigh, Alinor rose. It was time to go and continue her courtesies to Lady Ela. As awful as that was, it was better than to sit and wonder whether Beorn, too, had been swallowed by the mysterious silence that had enwrapped Ian.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Although she had been some hours abed, Alinor was not asleep. Late, Beorn had said, and Alinor knew that it was slower to ride at night than in daylight. Nonetheless, some message should have come by now, even if it was only to say that no trace could be found of Ian or of his men. She told herself firmly that she was a fool. News would come no sooner if she lay awake. Resolutely she closed her eyes. A moment later a sound brought her bolt upright. Nothing, Alinor hissed at herself, it is nothing! A bed creaked. That is all. Desperately, she stuffed her fingers in her ears and lay down again.

The position could not be held long, of course. It was too uncomfortable. Alinor relaxed the pressure of her fingers, then pulled her hands away violently.

"...you to leave me here. Do not wake Lady Alinor, I say."

The voice was so low that, had she not been awake and despite her efforts listening for every sound, it would not have disturbed her. Alinor slid out of bed and pulled on her bedrobe.

"Lord, lord," she heard Beorn pleading, "the lady is not one lightly to be disobeyed. She bade me wake her with news at any hour. She―"

Alinor lit a candle from the night light that stood by the bed and came into the antechamber. Ian was in one of the chairs, his left leg stretched stiffly in front of him, and Beorn leaned over him. They both looked up as she entered with identical, shamefaced, guilty expressions, like two little boys caught raiding the honey-pot. Torn between overwhelming relief and exasperated rage, Alinor managed not to say a word. She quietly went and lit the candles that stood near each chair.

"My lady―"

"Alinor―"

The voices blended, again identical in their placatory tone. Alinor bit her lip.

"You may go, Beorn."

She could not castigate her man. He was caught between the upper and the nether millstone. He dared not disobey either one of them. Fortunately it was a rare occasion when the orders he received from his lady and his new lord would be as diametrically opposed as they had been this day. Alinor did not turn to Ian until Beorn's soft steps had faded completely. When she did look at him, his eyes were closed and even the golden, light of the candles could lend no warmth to his gray pallor.

"Ian! What is amiss?"

"Such stupidity," he sighed. "Like a careless child, I stepped on a stone and wrenched my knee. You would not believe so little a thing could cause such pain."

"When did this happen?"

"Almost a week ago. The day your messenger came to tell me William of Pembroke was come."

"Why did you not send the messenger back? I would have come to you. Or I would have sent a litter so you could be carried home. Really, Ian―"

"Alinor, be still! I hurt. I do not wish to argue with you about what I could have or should have done. For the one thing, how could I send for you when the rest of our guests might arrive at any moment? That I should be absent was bad enough. That we should both be lacking would be too much discourtesy. For the second, to speak the truth, I could not endure the thought of being moved at first. I suppose I should have sent to tell you what had happened to me, but I felt such a fool!"

Impulsively, Alinor bent forward and kissed him. Before he could recover from his surprise and take hold of her, she was gone. She called through the door to the room where her maids slept, sending one for bandages, another for cold water. She ordered also that two men be roused to bring more cold water every little while.

"Can you go so far as the bed?" Alinor asked while the maids threw on their clothing, "or should I tell them to send up some men to carry you?"

"What bed?" Ian asked bemusedly. Had Alinor kissed him? So swift had it been that he wondered now if he had willfully imagined it when she merely bent over him.

"My bed," Alinor replied. "Aubery de Vere is in yours."

"Oxford?" Ian exclaimed, totally mystified. "What is he doing here? Did you invite him?"

"Salisbury brought him, but I did not wish to ask why. I only thanked him for doing us such honor. Well, I could not ask an unexpected and uninvited guest why he had come, could I?"

"No, of course not. But did he not say anything? Surely―"

"He might have done so, but I was more exercised to find a place to put him and his servants than to press for explanations which I knew he would give you without asking."

"So that was why you sent so urgently. Yes, I see. Thank you."

That was not why Alinor had sent Beorn to look for Ian, but she did not bother to correct him, merely asked again about carrying him to bed.

"You cannot have a herd of servants tramping back and forth and waking everyone," he replied irritably. "Let me rest a little and I will make shift to get there, but why can I not sleep here on a pallet. Really, I am tired enough to sleep on the stone floor without the pallet."

"Because I do not wish to spend the whole night on my knees tending you, and because you are a fool if you do not realize it will kill you to lower yourself to the floor and rise up again when it is necessary. And why did you not return as soon as you had taken that band of outlaws? This would never have happened―"

"Scold!" Ian exclaimed.

Alinor turned on him, color mantling her cheeks, but he was laughing. She put out her hand and touched his face. "Do you not deserve a scold for a wife? I was worried about you, Ian, but I did not like to keep sending messengers after you. After all, perhaps the less of my company you have, the easier your heart is. How can I know?"

"My heart? My heart is not in question. It has long been―"

He stopped abruptly as Gertrude hurried in with a flask of water in one hand and strips of cloth in the other. There was, of course, no reason why Ian should not tell his betrothed wife he loved her in her maidservant's presence, but Ian had never before been in such a situation. All the women to whom he had made love in the past had been someone else's property. To put them or himself into the power of a maidservant would be both foolish and dangerous. Long practice checked his tongue before thought could correct him.

It was impossible for Alinor to decide whether she wanted to hear the rest of the sentence or not. His heart had long been—what? Dead? Given? Would he have told her to whom? Alinor had dropped her hand from his face when he stopped speaking. With the motion, she decided she did not want to hear. Heart or no heart, there was that in Ian's eyes, even now, lurking behind the pain, which gave her more cause for amusement than despair. Poor Ian. Was he a believer in
amour courtois?
Had he professed his devotion to some great lady in a profusion of sickly verses? If so, his loins were surely at war now with his elevated sentiments. But if she allowed him to say he loved another, or could not love, that would lie between them. What was unspoken was easier to forget.

"It does not matter," she said briskly. "Now I have you safe, that is all that is of importance. I still say you were a fool to ride with a knee like that."

She went to get a pair of shears with which to slit open his chausses. The knee was awful, hugely swollen and darkly discolored. Ian looked at it ruefully.

"But it was almost down to normal this morning," he said. "I intended to ride in tomorrow. It is only that we rode too far, I think."

"Too far? Did you not come from the northwest farm?"

"No. Did I forget to tell you that there were a pair of sly weasels who, too cowardly to seize what they desired, were exacting tribute on the pretense they could keep the reavers away? I had told the bailiff of the Long Acres to seize them, and he sent word they were taken. I set out for the Long Acres before your messenger came, and he followed me—which is one reason everything was so delayed. Those two are for hanging, I think. I brought them and sent them into prison in the town. I was sure you would have no room for prisoners here. By the by, what did you do with Sir Guy?"

"Took him into service. Is that not what you expected me to do? What else could I do with such an honest fool? I have sent him into hiding. You heard his tale, did you not? I feared one of our guests might know his face."

While she was speaking, Alinor had set a basin below Ian's knee, placed a thick pad over it, and trickled the cold water onto the pad. Ian sighed with relief and closed his eyes. He had been right to trust her judgment in Sir Guy's case. This marriage would be perfect, if only— Well, she had not allowed him to finish when he started to tell her how long he had loved her, but she had not withdrawn from him either. There was something he had to ask—something— Oh, yes, the king's messenger. Wearily, he forced his lids open, but it was Gertrude who held the flask so that the coolness flowed softy over his throbbing knee. Later Ian woke with a cry of pain when the chair was lifted, but his leg was held rigid on a board, and the pang was brief. He remembered mumbling something about being full of fleas, and Alinor made some soothing response. The bed was soft and warm as heaven. Ian slept.

Morning brought disorientation and a moment of panic. From the exquisite bedcurtains, it was plain that he was in some great lady's bed—but whose? Full wakefulness resolved the panic into clear memory and a roar of laughter. Alinor pulled the bedcurtains aside.

"That is a pleasant sound to start the morning."

"And you are a pleasant sight to start the morning."

"How gallant. But you laughed before you saw me. Why?"

Ian hesitated, then grinned. "Because at first I could not remember whose bed I was in— And it is a gentleman's first duty to remember in the morning—"

Alinor giggled delightedly. It was the first sign she had that Ian was not a pious-mouthed prude. "Wretch! Well, you will not be troubled with that question again —not if you wish to keep intact the wherewithal to make a bed a place for other than sleep."

"Alinor!"

"Did you think I would not be a jealous wife?" she asked provocatively. "I have not a complaisant nature."

Somewhat dazed by that miracle of understatement, Ian had only strength enough to murmur, "I would never have guessed if you had not told me."

"I thought so." Alinor replied with enormous gravity as she put back the bedclothes to look at Ian's knee. "My disposition is so mild and yielding in general, that I was sure you would need this warning." A sidelong glance did not meet the indignation Alinor expected. She had underestimated her opponent.