By Right of Arms (24 page)

Read By Right of Arms Online

Authors: Robyn Carr

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: By Right of Arms
9.31Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
Chapter Ten

Aurélie still walked the wall and viewed De la Noye from the parapets and high donjon as she had done daily when Giles was alive. Now, there was little question in her mind as to whom all this belonged. With Giles, she had known this possession to belong more to her than the lord, but her life as his wife was a secret, and a lie. Now she was a wife well used, but had no possessions.

She had lost more than a husband in the siege. She had lost control of the castle.

Hyatt did not need her at all. He ordered her compliance and asserted his husbandly rights. She had nothing to say of how the wall was manned for protection, of how the guards would spend their days and nights, nor did she have any dominion over the villeins, except to supervise their good service to Hyatt. But now she knew the secrets of the marriage bed. And in the dark of night when Hyatt’s arm gently encircled her, she pretended that she was also loved.

If she were to consider Hyatt’s treatment of her when they were in seclusion, she would believe herself cherished. But in the cool light of morning he faithfully resumed an aloof and commanding manner. He neither trusted nor coddled her. But then, he had never promised any more than he had given.

It was just past dawn as she walked her vigil to see the hall, houses, town, and farming plots. She viewed the perfect patches of fields. He had overthrown them, yet De la Noye had not been so well settled since her arrival twelve years ago. The heavy iron gate at the portcullis that separated the inner bailey from the outer bailey had not been in use for many years, for it had rusted and could not be lowered. Hyatt’s troops repaired it, doubling the security of the main hall.

Even nature accommodated Hyatt, for the weather provided a perfect balance of sunlight and showers for the crops. Houses were rethatched and the stock and people were well fed. The summer was at its hottest now, and if the growing season continued this well, the harvest would be good and next spring’s shearing would be the best ever.

The gates were being opened below her to let the farmers leave to do their daily chores. Armed knights accompanied them to the fields and pastures. From the high tower her people looked the same as ever. On closer inspection she could see anger in some of their eyes, but they no longer shuddered in terror as they had in those first days. Most, she was forced to admit, were better off than they had ever been. Father Algernon was the only person in all of De la Noye to make do on less than he had before.

When the gates closed behind the guards and farmers, Aurélie descended into the town. She stopped at a few houses to see how the occupants fared. Percival was mending nicely and his family already plied their labors to Hyatt’s cause. Aurélie visited this household often, but not so much because she was needed. Rather, it was because of Percival’s regard for Hyatt. Once he and his people had come inside the stout walls of De la Noye and were cared for, Percival had been ready to pledge allegiance to the Englishman. “My village was wasted and many lives were lost. Some may damn me, my lady, but I would pledge to the devil himself if that same one offered me shelter, a chance to work, and food for my family.”

“There are some here who think that you would be pledging to the devil,” she had said.

“Then they have not seen what I have seen. Your lord is not soft, but he is more generous than any I have known.”

“Because he spared your lives? Do you see that as
generous?
To live is your right.”

“Nay, madame. Anyone can spare a life; the choice is simple to kill or not to kill an innocent man. But there are few who are wise enough to help a man put his life to use.”

Aurélie visited other houses and there was no doubt that what Percival said of Hyatt’s wisdom was true. Delmar was retired from his duties as a guard and was denied the possession of any weapons, but he laughingly showed her his tools. The knights of Hyatt had helped him construct a work area behind his house and trees were felled to bring him fresh wood, from which he made furniture and utensils. “No sword, shield, nor knife, but hammers, chisels, saws, and axes. This may fool some of the serfs, but it does not fool me. If Hyatt feared I would raise a weapon against him, would he give me an ax?”

“You are happy, Delmar,” she stated softly.

“Hush, my lady,” he said with a smile. “To be happy under this new, barbaric rule would name me a traitor to France.” But there was no question that Delmar was pleased and productive. He had always relished his time away from knightly duties so that he could carve, build, polish, and fashion eating utensils and furniture that made his wife the envy of the other women. “When De la Noye is settled and the needs we now have are satisfied, I will sell my wares. Even now I train my son as an apprentice.”

“I think you prosper, Delmar. I am pleased for you.”

“Who does not, lady? Ah,” he said, holding up a hand. “I know the names of those whose positions were lost. The younger men-at-arms, the captains, watchmen, bowmen, and pikemen … not all are happy to have seen their swords replaced with scythes. But they are only a few. Not many from De la Noye would ever meet the king or travel to Paris. Most of the villagers never see the man who draws the gabelle tax from their salt to build his army. These people wish only to work, eat, and have the protection of the decent lord.

“I only say, give the man time and let us judge his worth when we are done with war. That is when a man discovers the value of his overlord, when he shows his merit during peace.”

By the time she had stopped at a dozen small houses and was en route to the hall, the gates were being opened again to allow escorted women to bring food to the men in the fields. She realized the whole morning had been spent in the village and began to rush back to the hall. What she had been looking for, she knew, were not problems and miseries that required her attention, but her daily surveillance was to determine Hyatt’s growing acceptance by the people and the progress on the castle and town. Unless some work in the main hall delayed her, she went around the wall and into the town every morning. She had done so since the second week in May.

July had aged, drawing the harvest nearer, and she could not ignore the evidence. Hyatt’s arrival had been a salvation for the deteriorating De la Noye. Very few still mourned the passage of the demesne from French de Pourvre to an English knight named Hyatt Laidley. Only a few families of knights killed in battle and certain deposed warriors held any hope that France would reclaim Guienne. She even witnessed the unexpected sight of a young woman of her village talking and flirting with a soldier in red and black livery. The resistance to Hyatt was slipping away. But the mistress of De la Noye held back. Not for France, but for the sake of pride.

Hyatt was seated in the main hall, eating more leisurely than was common for him. He had been home for over a fortnight and she had become accustomed to his habits very easily, for his rote was simple and predictable. By day he commanded her and everyone else, but by night when he chose to make love to her, he was not satisfied until she, too, experienced great pleasure. There were times when he studied her face in brooding silence as if some memory pricked his tender conscience. These troubled spells were short, and he did not speak of his burden. She wondered if she was coming to mean something more to him.

“Do you not ride out with your men today, my lord?” she asked.

“Not today,” he mumbled. He turned to Girvin. “The hunting needs to be done in the south wood, Girvin. I think the forest north of the keep holds more French scavengers and meandering English troops who have lost their leaders. Those brigands and our hunters seem to have depleted the good game.”

“Tomorrow at dawn, then,” Girvin said.

“I will accompany you. It is not good for me to have too much leisure.”

“My lord,” Aurélie attempted quietly, “is it necessary to send guards with the farmers? I can think of none who will abandon their homes in De la Noye. And the women are escorted to the fields, as well. Surely you do not think they …”

“What is it you seek? Fewer guards?”

“It might serve to show them that you come to trust their honest labors and—”

“And open the gate for free passage? You forget, my lady, these people are not free.”

Aurélie stiffened. “I believe they know that, Sir Hyatt.”

“Of course,” he said sharply, his tone implying that he was not in agreement. “Do you ask me to lighten my guard for a special reason, Aurélie? Does Verel plan to return with an army soon?”

“Oh, Hyatt, nay, that is not what I … Is that what you think? That I plot against you?”

“You give or withhold important truths at your will, and how can I be secure? You knew Verel’s plans, yet told no one. You covered his path as he fled. You—”

“Nay!” Her voice was a sharp, angry denial. Hyatt was abruptly cut off. Aurélie did not argue further, but turned and fled to the stair, running up quickly to her bedchamber. It had taken great willpower not to cover her ears against his accusations, and she felt the heat of tears on her cheeks. He chastised her when it was Faon’s treachery at work. He criticized his wife while his mistress wore gold bracelets and beautiful gowns. She ran into her chamber and across the room to the window.

The door opened soon after, as she knew it would. She flinched as Hyatt slammed the portal. “Do not
ever
walk away from me as I speak,” he thundered.

She whirled to face him. “Even as you accuse me? Even as you call my word a lie? Even as you allow your soldiers and serfs to stand witness to your ridicule?”

“You did not deny that you knew Verel’s plans. You admitted that he might have left as he threatened he would, rather than succumb and name me as his lord. Yet you did not tell anyone before … but only when you were publicly addressed. You might never have admitted the truth, and still you have not told me all.”

She stepped closer to him and he likewise advanced. “I did not lie. I first warned Verel not to fight you, and later I thought it would be better for the rest of us if he fled.”

“Since you did not impede his escape, how am I to believe that you did not aid him?”

“I cannot say who helped him, Hyatt. ’Twas not I, I swear it.”

“Do you doubt that he had a good horse? Weapons?”

“I believe that he did, but I provided none of that.”

Hyatt stepped yet closer. “You lie to me, Aurélie,” he said threateningly. “And I know it. It is in your eyes when you lie; you do not hide it well.”

“I could do nothing,” she insisted, yet tears fell from her eyes. His many faces tore at her heart.

“He got clean away, and someone here is my enemy, pretending to be my ally.”

“I thought I had convinced him it would be foolish,” she said. “And you would have killed him, had you known.”

“And for that reason you did not tell me?”

“Nay,” she shouted. “For the reason—” She stopped herself abruptly. She looked into his hard, angry eyes. Her tears subsided instantly and her voice came softly. There was no reason to deny it any longer; Verel was gone. She lifted her chin. “For the reason that he planned to take me with him. I hoped that my refusal to go would end his plans and replace his lunacy with reason.”

Hyatt’s features relaxed into a superior grin. “I thought you would finally admit it was his lust that drove him. He was a fool to desire a woman to the extent of such risk.” He raised both brows. “Did you think I did not know it?”

“Ooooo,” she growled, insulted to the depth of her sensibilities. “You insufferable oaf, I should have kept silent.” She tried to turn away from him, but he yanked her back, forcing her to face him. “Let go, Hyatt, you mean only to humiliate me.”

“How could you have taken him seriously? Did it please you to know that the boy was so smitten with you, he would risk his life to have you? And how did you answer his love, Aurélie? How did you keep yourself from fleeing with your ragged, beaten knight?”

She struggled to free herself from his grasp, but he held her fast by the upper arms. “You rancid churl, he had more regard for me than anyone has since your coming.”

Hyatt laughed cruelly at the statement, holding her wrists securely. “Truly, madame? I give you your home, your rule beside my own, a warm bed, and food for your belly. Yet you prefer the hot-blooded notions of a boy who lives on naught but childish dreams? You think to flee whole armies through a dense wood is
regard?
What could he give you but danger, a low fire to keep away captors, a few grains, and a long, harsh journey? And above that, if he offers passion, ’twould be an adulteress he would make you. Nay, I say he is a selfish idiot, with little regard for you.”

“At least he is able and strong and does not insult me.
He
thought I was well worth the risk.”

“To die needlessly is a high insult, madame. Further, if he had any loyalty to you, he would not suggest that you endanger yourself. Do you think you would have gotten away? I do not care much about Verel; he can have a horse and some grain for his journey. He travels toward Hollis, and that hearty knight does not like to witness a Frenchman who yet draws a breath. But you are too valuable a prize to sacrifice to Hollis or any other scavenger.”

“Perhaps Verel will slip by your ruthless English armies and return with a French force to …”

“Giles is dead,” he said slowly. “You were the only heir. You are my wife—bound by vows. If John comes to claim this demesne, he claims it against the will of God and the Church. Even your French king is not that stupid. Verel is lucky you refused him. Had you gone, you would have been found and returned, and I would not have been so gentle as I was when you were newly widowed.”

She held herself rigidly in his grasp, her fury growing even more at his insensitive threats. “You have captured me once, Hyatt. If I choose to flee from you, you will never capture me twice. I will leave you nothing better than my corpse.”

His smile vanished and he shook her abruptly. He could think of no reason for such a statement, save one. “Do you love him? Do you love the knave?”

Other books

The Stone Warriors: Damian by D. B. Reynolds
The Martin Duberman Reader by Martin Duberman
Midnight Sun by Ramsey Campbell
Double Dexter by Jeff Lindsay
La condesa sangrienta by Alejandra Pizarnik, Santiago Caruso
Devil's Bride by Stephanie Laurens