Courtly Love (10 page)

* * *

Gyles raised his bow, sighted the arrow on the target and exerted a steady pressure on the bowstring.

"Hold! Wait! Do not shoot!"

Serena's voice floated through the air, and, turning, Gyles saw his wife pushing her way toward him. Obligingly the spectators parted and Serena raced the last few feet to Gyles. He lowered his bow and looked quizzically at Serena.

"Oh, I nearly missed you!" Serena gasped. "Wear this, m'lord, for luck." She lifted her scarf and tied it about Gyles's arm. As he drew his brows together in a frown she said desperately, "Please, m'lord. I must have a champion."

"You have Godwin."

Serena flushed. "But you are my husband, tis you who should be my acknowledged gallant."

Gyles stared down into the twin pools of blue that were Serena's eyes. "You would allow a Norman to bear your honor?"

"Only one Norman, m'lord," Serena murmured softly, and withdrew from the field.

Serena found a place among the cluster of spectators between Richard and Bryan.

"What are you about, Serena?" Bryan asked angrily. "Have you forgotten your vengeance so quickly?"

"Be still, Bryan, he is my husband. Tis fitting he wear my colors." Serena's eyes never left Gyles as he loosed one arrow after another.

"Serena?" Richard's voice was anguished.

Serena turned to Richard. "Do not start again, Richard, I. beg of you. I can endure it no longer. Between you, Bryan and Gyles, my soul is being ripped to pieces. Be my friend, Richard, and leave it at that."

"I cannot give up hope, my love."

A cheer went up from the crowd, and Serena spun back to the contest. Gyles's arrows had all found the center of the target, and a surge of pride flooded Serena. She did not even notice that Richard left her side, as she started forward to congratulate Gyles, but Bryan placed a restraining hand on her arm.

"You astound me, Serena. What are you playing at now? First you swear you must have revenge and now you play the gentle wife. Decide, sister mine. Which do you desire to be: vengeful or loving?"

"Neither. Both. Oh, Bryan, I know not." Serena looked at Bryan pleadingly. "My head pulls me one way, my heart another. I am confused and beset on all sides. I can find no peace in any decision I make. What has happened to me, Bryan?"

A strand of gold blew across her face and Bryan gently brushed it away from Serena's cheek. What he thought, Bryan did not wish to put into words; for he had the feeling that Serena, his adoring, younger sister was growing away from him. Bryan smiled. "What of Godwin?" He teased lightly.

"There is no reason he should not take part in the mock battle tomorrow. Nothing has changed."

"I'll be glad when the lists are over, my nerves are torn to shreds," Bryan sighed. "Speak to Richard, Serena, his heart has been broken."

"I have. He doesn't listen. He shouldn't have returned to Camden, it only caused him more pain." Serena looked around for Gyles, but he had disappeared from the crowd. Belatedly, Serena remembered that Beda had lauded his victory with a kiss that was in no way sisterly. Was Gyles now in Beda's arms within the walls of her chamber?

"The players have arrived." Bryan's voice jolted Serena away from her thoughts. "Let's go watch them, Serena. We'll find Richard and while away the afternoon. For the last time, Serena, let us pretend that nothing has changed—and then, then you must pick up your life. You are my sister, Serena, and we have inherited strength from our parents; you will conquer your Norman mate if that is what you desire most. And I think it is."

* * *

The evening passed in much the same manner as the preceding ones, with some slight changes. Serena no longer dropped to the floor when Gyles neared and Bryan resisted the temptation of the ale kegs. Richard refrained from badgering Serena about an annulment and the hall resounded with the revelers' laughter. The following day would see the mock battle and as the opposing forces had already been decided, the knights took great delight in shouting challenges at each other. With Gyles seated beside her, Serena happily viewed the entertainment.

"Godwin is not present again tonight, it seems. Where does your brave Saxon keep himself, Serena?" Gyles studied his wife's profile with an odd sparkling in his green eyes.

"Godwin is a most pious young man, m'lord. I believe he finds the evening's sport not to his taste." With her head, Serena indicated several couples locked in each other's arms.

"It makes a night pass swiftly." Gyles observed with a shrug as he reached for his ale. "Richard seems to have found a most willing partner," he added.

Serena followed his look. "So he has," she said with little interest, then suddenly sat bolt upright in her chair.

Gyles leaned back in his chair and watched the different emotions chase across Serena's face. "Does it trouble you that he has found another, Serena?"

"No . . . but, the woman—m'lord, she is married!" Serena's voice was shocked.

"So?"

The strange note in his voice caused Serena to turn to Gyles. "But, m'lord, they are committing adultery."

" Tis a common enough practice, Serena, the lady was forced into a marriage she abhors, so she finds her pleasure wherever she can." He was speaking not of Richard and his lady, but of himself and Serena.

And Serena saw the analogy. "Her husband, m'lord, does he also take his . . . pleasure outside his marriage vows?"

His green eyes looked away from her blue ones and concentrated on the guests. "He does. He is a most virile man and his appetite is never appeased."

If Gyles had hoped to shake her, he was successful. Serena's hands were clenched in her lap and she studied them closely. "He finds no comfort in his wife's arms?" Serena asked quietly.

"They have three offspring, all boys. Their duty to each other is finished—and she neither encourages nor discourages him to seek her bed." A pain began somewhere deep in his heart and Gyles had to force himself to continue. "They do not love, Serena, and have made each other's lives unbearable."

"One does not choose who to love, 'tis something that happens without mortal interference," Serena said reflectively. "Would that one could say 'I will love this person and not the other.' But one cannot. Love must begin without pressure and then be tenderly nourished by the lovers. Love should be freely given; it should be shared so that as it grows both people are incomplete without the other."

Serena looked up and found herself lost in Gyles's emerald gaze. He knew! Gyles looked into her heart and saw there what she had only now discovered. Serena had no defense left to her with which to deny the truth she saw revealed in his eyes, and now he could hurt her as he never had before. She began to tremble and her only thought was to escape. Escape Gyles before he forced her to put her emotions into words. His large, warm hand suddenly covered hers and Serena's eyes dropped to study the strong, brown fingers that exerted a gentle pressure.

"You are trembling, Serena, and your hands are like ice. Come, we will retire." Gyles rose to his feet, drawing Serena with him.

Unsteadily, Serena managed to stay by his side as they made their way through the hall and up to their chambers. Gyles did not pause by Serena's door but took her instead to his chamber. He left her side to light a candle and then reached out to pull his wife against him. Serena stood stiffly in the circle of his arms and Gyles began to gently stroke her back. His lips brushed lightly against the top of her hair and Serena shuddered.

"Do not be afraid, Serena, I will not hurt you more than I can help. Do you understand?"

Serena nodded. "Nellwyn told me." She tilted her head upward. "I do not fear the pain, m'lord."

"You fear me?" Gyles's hands stopped their gentling movement and his fingers meshed around the back of her neck. "You needn't, Serena, for I will be as gentle as possible."

"I suppose you've had many women?"

"A full legion at least," Gyles teased.

"Do not mock me," Serena whispered.

Gyles sobered instantly. "Forgive me, I am not used to dealing with untutored virgins." His hands moved and pulled the ribbons from Serena's hair and then twined themselves in the curls.

Gyles's breath was hot upon her neck and Serena raised a hand to the wiry curls at the back of his neck. "I am ignorant, m'lord."

"I do not expect a virgin to know a man's passions," he murmured against her hair. "I shall teach you well, Serena, not only my delights, but your own as well."

Gyles bent and covered Serena's lips with his own as his hands slid down her shoulders and arms before they circled her waist. Gyles's mouth worked on hers, prying her lips apart ever so slowly until his tongue could enter and plunder the recesses of Serena's mouth. Serena felt herself lifted from the floor and clasped tightly against Gyles's chest. His mouth released hers and Serena's head fell back against his arm while his lips traced a burning path down her throat. His breathing quickened and Gyles pressed Serena closer until it seemed no part of her body did not touch his and Serena could feel his desire. His lips claimed her again, a savage repossession that drew her very soul out of her bodv and into his own. A sweet, urgent need surfaced in Serena, and she returned to Gyles over and over again the kiss he had given her.

She clung to him with all the strength of her tiny body and found herself moving wantonly against Gyles until she was sure the contact of their bodies would take her to the brink of insanity. Gyles pressed tiny kisses against the corners of her mouth and temples and gently lowered her down the length of his body until her feet reached the floor. Unwilling to lose the strange lassitude that permeated her body, Serena lay against Gyles, listening to the deep beat of his heart return to its steady, even pattern.

Gyles's eyes glowed as he looked down at his wife and he cupped her chin in his hand and brought her face upward. Serena's eyes had darkened with passion and Gyles knew she would not resist his advances this night. For the moment Serena was totally his, her will bending to his—but for how long? Would morning find her once again rejecting and repudiating him? Should he take her tonight and force her into the realization that though she might wish it, she would never escape him? What could he use to bind her tightly to him? That her pride forced her to honor the vows she had spoken was not enough for Gyles. He wanted her bound to him so closely that she would never glance at another man.

"What would you have from me, Serena?" Gyles asked huskily.

"Have from you, m'lord?" Serena's eyes grew puzzled and she drew slightly away from him. "I do not understand."

"Jewels? Furs? Name only what you desire and you shall have it." Gyles smoothed the mass of hair over Serena's shoulder.

"There is naught that I desire ... except..."

Gyles sighed. Serena was no different from any of the other women he had taken after all. His hand dropped to his side. "Except what, Serena?"

Serena blushed deeply. "I would ask . . . that is . . . will you . . . for me . . . will you no longer seek out Beda?" Her words tumbled over each other now. "I do not mean to be shrewish, m'lord, truly, but in truth I cannot bear the thought of you in her arms."

It was an enormous admission for Serena, and Gyles recognized it as such. "That I can easily grant you, for as God is my witness, I have not shared her bed since you and I were wed. Name something else, Serena." Gyles smiled down at her. "What can I give you that you do not now possess?"

Serena shook her head. "Nothing, m'lord."

"Then you must grant me a boon, Serena."

"If it is within my power, m'lord, I shall do whatever you wish," Serena replied.

"My name is Gyles, not 'm'lord.' Say it."

"Gyles." The name was spoken gently, almost shyly, and the sound was most welcome to Gyles's ear.

Gyles bent to place a kiss upon Serena's lips. "And now, sweet wife, the night grows short." He lifted Serena in his arms and strode across the room.

Serena's head rested against his shoulder and she closed her eyes against the rest of the world. The bed was soft and seemed to welcome Serena's weight, but her eyes flew open when Gyles did not join her. He stood above Serena, a half-smile playing on his lips, and she found Gyles had placed her on her own bed.

"Rest well, Serena, tomorrow will be long and tiring." He turned to the door which joined their rooms that still stood ajar from their passage. "One last thing, Serena. You remember the afternoon at the pond?" At her nod, Gyles continued, "You gave me your word on a certain matter."

Serena propped herself up on her elbows and eyed him curiously.

"Your word of honor, Serena, that you would not take part in the lists, remember?" Again Serena nodded. "See that you keep your word."

* * *

Gyles woke well-pleased with himself the following morning, and allowed himself the luxury of lying abed before he began the day. Memory of the evening sprang to his mind and Gyles found himself smiling at the ceiling. Serena. She would be his wife in deed as well as in name soon, and the thought brought Gyles contentment despite the warmth that was beginning to grow in his loins. Her ability to meet his own passion with a ferocity all her own astounded Gyles; but he must tred carefully lest he go too far too quickly and frighten Serena with his desire. The suffused warmth turned into a sweet ache within his body and Gyles was sorely tempted to seek out Serena's bed despite his previous resolutions. But Serena had to be tenderly wooed—Gyles knew that now—so that she would not feel she had been bid and bartered for like a brood mare. Oh, yes; when Gyles finished his courtship of her mind there would be no corner of it that would defy him and then Gyles would be free to unleash all of Serena's passion.

Gyles swung himself from the bed and began to gird himself for the battle. Hearing movements outside his door, Gyles called for his squire to enter and soon Gyles descended to the hall to break his fast. Serena was not at the table, and though Giles dallied as long as he dared, by the time he rose Serena still had not shown herself.

A frown crossed Gyles's face; it wasn't like Serena to be late; for all week she had beaten him to the hall every morning. Gyles could think only that Serena had had a change of heart where he was concerned and the thought caused his face to set grimly. Serena had reconsidered and decided upon Richard over her husband. Gyles retraced his steps to seek her out and confront her and nearly ran over Serena in his haste.

Her hair still mussed from sleep fell across her shoulders and over the creamy skin of her bosom, and Serena was clad only in a blue chamber robe as she stood beside a pillar that concealed her from the hall below. She reached out and drew Gyles into the shadow with her.

"I overslept," Serena confessed drowsily, as her blue eyes hazily focused on her husband. "But I could not let you leave without wishing you luck."

Gyles smiled and indicated his scabbard around which was tied Serena's scarf. "Today I carry my gentle lady's colors into mortal combat," he intoned heavily. "And should I mortally stricken fall, 'twill bring me comfort to know she cares."

Serena paled. "Do not speak like that, Gyles, not even in jest!"

"Ah, you remembered, Serena. Tis much to my liking to hear my name from your lips." Gyles caressed her cheek with his fingertips and shook his head at her loss of color. " 'Tis only a mock battle, Serena, no harm will befall me," Gyles chided.

Serena's hand sought his and she pressed a kiss into his palm. "You will have a care for yourself, Gyles?"

Gyles smiled indulgently. "Yes, Serena, I will take care. For of what use would I be to you if I were only half a man?" he asked wickedly.

"Gyles!" Serena looked at him reproachfully before her lips curved into a smile. "And try not to be too angry with me, I pray you. I promised Godwin he could bear my standard today, and I cannot in all fairness revoke that honor now."

Gyles sighed and shook his head. "Ah, Serena, which are you: Saxon maiden or Norman wife? In truth you have probably instructed Godwin to remove this poor knight from your life."

"Nay, Gyles!" Serena flew into his arms and pressed herself tightly against him. "I would not! I swear, I would not!"

"Serena?" Gyles was shocked by her vehement denial. "Serena? I but meant to tease you."

" 'Tis not amusing!" Serena's voice caught in her throat. "You are my husband."

Gyles lifted her in his arms. "Then give your husband a token to carry into battle," Gyles whispered hoarsely and his mouth came down on hers. He had meant only a gentle kiss, but the fires that had been so carefully banked now flared and Gyles knew that his mouth was working with a bruising force on Serena's.

Serena—her newly discovered passion blossoming forth—met Gyles's tongue with her own and reveled at its effect, for his hands slid down her back to her buttocks to mold her firmly against him. When at last they parted, it was Serena who was able to speak despite the strangely overwhelming ache in her body.

"The trumpets sound, Gyles, you had better hurry for you will have little enough time to don your armor."

Her blue eyes sparkled teasingly at him. "What you hunger for will be here when you return."

Serena spun from his hold and ran lightly to her chamber. At the door she paused. "I will be watching," she called. "See you do my colors honor!" With a light laugh she disappeared.

Gyles pulled on his helm and surveyed the field as his squire buckled the sword around his waist. It was only mid-morning, but already the heat beat down in shimmering waves. Not the ideal day to be trapped in a suit of amor, Gyles mused. His green eyes scanned the field and he noticed that he would not be the only late arrival. Godwin was hurrying to keep pace with Bryan as they gained the field, and Gyles saw him refuse Bryan's offer of a horse for the combat. Bryan was gesticulating wildly to the younger knight, and then Godwin must have spoken for Bryan's movement ceased and he stood quietly in front of Godwin. Bryan must have begun one last appeal, but Godwin would have none of it and flipped down the visor of his helm and swaggered—that was the only word for it—to his squire to choose his arms.

The shield was slipped over Godwin's forearm and then he selected a broadsword. The mace he discarded as it could not be blunted and its sharp spikes were capable of splitting a man's head with ease. A lighter sword was strapped around Godwin's armor and at the last minute, he reached out and added a dagger to his equipment. Bryan was nearby, going through the same process, but his equipage was suited—as was Gyles's— for a man on horseback. He called something to Godwin and Godwin raised his hands in an indifferent gesture. Richard's banner was crossing the field to where Bryan and Godwin stood arguing and Gyles was surprised by the fierce look on Richard's face. He stepped between Bryan and Godwin but addressed himself solely to the smaller knight. A light breeze rippled over the field and part of Richard's words reached Gyles's ears.

"... insane ... I will not allow . . . when Gyles sees you ... could do with a thrashing ... still not too old — knight of the realm . . . Lady Serena . . . brother should know better ... off the field!"

In an action completely out of character, Godwin stamped his foot and Gyles burst into laughter. It appeared Godwin had his own reasons for avoiding the mixed company of the castle. Gyles wondered if Serena knew her former sparring partner's sexual preference. Small wonder Richard wanted him off the field—no doubt he felt Godwin unworthy of his knighting. Gyles dismissed the scene from his mind and mounted his horse.

As was customary, the combatants circled the field so that the spectators could cheer their favorites. Gyles caught sight of Alan waving excitedly to him with one hand while Nellwyn kept a firm grip on the other. The nurse gave Bryan a disapproving glare as he passed and Gyles wondered if Bryan had fallen back into the habit of imbibing too much. Serena was nowhere to be seen though Gyles's green eyes probed the crowd for her. Undoubtedly she was still dressing, Gyles thought, or perhaps she had decided to wait in her chamber until he returned so they could have the privacy he for one so urgently desired. Serena's welcome—Gyles could already see the delicate alabaster body gracing his bed as Serena's eyes beckoned him to join her.

The trumpets blared and the opposing forces took their positions. Gyles's mount stamped and tossed its head, as eager as its rider for the battle to be met. The signal was given and with a roar the knights surged forward. Soon the air was filled with the metallic ring of steel upon steel. Sword met shield, lance found armor, and churning hooves raised clouds of dust that blinded and choked those caught in its midst. The rules of the combat were simple: If a knight was unhorsed he could continue to fight on foot, but once a man lost all his weapons or lost his footing and fell, he was disqualified and must leave the field.

Slowly, one by one, defeated knights trudged from the scene of combat, some suffering bruises but no serious damage. The morning wore on and the participants fell more quickly, for the merciless heat of the sun made the armor unbearably hot, and most of the men actually welcomed their own defeat as it meant they could retire to the shade, doff their armor, and ease their thirst from the kegs of ale and wine.

The field was rapidly diminishing as Gyles unseated his mounted opponent. The man regained his feet quickly and raised his sword to strike, but Gyles's blade caught the hilt and sent it spinning into the air. The knight acknowledged his defeat and Gyles turned to search for another adversary. Rivulets of sweat ran down Gyles's face and into his eyes and he blinked rapidly to clear his vision. It appeared that if he desired another opponent he would have to cross the field, so Gyles spurred his mount in that direction. No other combatant remained on horse as Gyles dismounted and sent his steed off with a sharp slap on its rump. Gyles hefted his sword and advanced toward a knight who was dispatching his larger foe with consummate skill.

Gyles halted and his voice rang clear between them. "Declare yourself, sir knight. Friend or foe?"

The knight turned so that Gyles could see the logo on his shield, and when he spoke, the voice was oddly muffled. "Foe, Lord Gyles. I am Godwin of Broughton. Come, for my blade is eager to bite another Norman shield." And Godwin's sword sang through the air.

Gyles raised his shield just in time, for even with its blunted edge the broadsword would have dented his helm. Caught off guard, Gyles felt himself give ground as Godwin delivered a series of lightning blows that gave Gyles no opportunity to raise his sword, for he was too involved with presenting his shield to Godwin. Gyles immediately recognized that because of Godwin's lesser size he could not withstand the usual grueling, punishing display of arms, and rather than stand firm and allow Gyles's blows to find him, Godwin reverted to dodging Gyles's sword and darting under his guard to land a blow. Though Godwin's blade often found its target, it cost Gyles little, for he was accustomed to the heavier blows of men his own size; yet he admired Godwin's determination. Where many knights depended upon sheer strength to win the day, Godwin had been forced to develop a skillfulness Gyles had not seen before among Saxons. Godwin swung again, and the blade of his sword caught in Gyles's shield. As Godwin worked to free the blade, Gyles slipped his arm from the enarmes of the shield and sent both sword and shield flying off to the side.

In desperation, Godwin drew his light sidearm, though both men realized the futility of the move. Gyles stayed his blow. "Yield, Sir Godwin. You are my wife's man and I have no wish to do you injury. 'Tis finished and you have fought gallantly." Godwin shook his head. "Then I shall end this mockery quickly." Gyles's sword descended and he felt the shield buckle beneath the force of his blow. Godwin's light sword flashed toward him and Gyles brought his sword upward to block the blade's path. The thinner steel bent then broke, and still Godwin did not admit defeat, but instead moved closer to Gyles while they circled each other so that he could make better use of his shortened weapon.

Gyles lifted his sword in both hands and as it began to descend, the light slanted across Godwin's visor, exposing a pair of sparkling, deep blue eyes. Godwin's eyes were brown! The thought flashed through Gyles's mind even as he knew there was no hope of checking the blow, and his sword broke through the shield and glanced off his opponent's helm. Gyles flung his weapon aside with a savage cry as he strove to catch the figure as it pitched forward. His suspicions were confirmed when Gyles felt the slight weight in his arms. He knew, even before his shaking fingers lifted the visor and his eyes beheld the delicate face of his wife, that Godwin had never been his opponent. A trickle of blood started at Serena's temple and cut a path downward across her cheek. Gyles tore the gauntlets from his hands and fumbled for the scarf that hung on his scabbard. He dabbed anxiously at the blood to discover the location of the wound. God, oh, God! Gyles prayed mutely. Do not take her from me, I beg you. Oh, God! Beneath his helm, Gyles was unaware that tears mingled with sweat.

Footsteps pounded toward him and Gyles glanced up to see Richard and Bryan racing across the field. "Have a care for yourself," Serena had begged him this morning. Serena, Serena. Gyles anguished silently. You would take from me all that I need in life, yourself. Gyles dragged the helm from his head so that he could pass a hand over his eyes, for his vision had suddenly blurred.

Richard dropped to his knees on the other side of Serena's unmoving form; Bryan allowed himself a quick look at his sister and signaled for a litter. Absurdly, the mock battle still raged and the crowd still cheered its champions on. All were oblivious to the tragedy that had taken place and anger was added to Gyles's private anguish. Bryan knelt beside Gyles and gently pulled his hand away from Serena's face.

"Let me, Gyles." Bryan's voice was low, and he deftly blotted at the blood with the scarf.

Gyles studied Bryan's blue eyes, duplicates of Serena's, and rage built steadily within him. "Are you responsible for this?"

Bryan didn't answer, but busied himself with removing Serena's helm. He lifted her head and tugged at her coif. Serena's bright hair spilled onto the field and Gyles groaned inwardly as he remembered how soft those curls were beneath his fingers. Bryan was still dabbing at the blood and now he looked up. "Look to Serena's helm."