Lord of a Thousand Nights (9 page)

Alice's grandsons, Adam and Peter, hung in the shadows. Ian noticed and called them over. Grinning with delight, they helped him run a test of the pulley. They fitted a water-filled bucket into the sling at the bottom of the rope, and Ian began hauling it upward.

He wore a sleeveless tunic and the cut chausses, and his body stretched against the fabric. The taut muscles of his arms made powerful lines as he reached hand over hand. Reyna realized that this was the first time she had seen him in full daylight. The sun picked up red lights in his dark brown hair. The feather-edged pools of his eyes looked deeper and more compelling out here.

He finished his test and stood back with a satisfied expression. She walked over and studied the mechanism. “If you fit a crank to the rope, even women could do it,” she said.

“A good idea. Of course, in time of war the pulley makes the keep vulnerable. Whoever commands here will have to destroy it then.” He finally noticed the line of women in their finery standing by the tower stairs. “What is this? Are we expecting the pope?”

“Margery said that a visitor is on his way here.”

“All of this is for David? He should find that amusing.”

“David?”

“David de Abyndon, Morvan's brother through marriage.”

“Margery misunderstood. She thinks the Comte de Senlis arrives.”

“David is the Comte de Senlis. But before he received Senlis he was a London merchant, and I knew him as such. In England he is still known as Master David the mercer. He never renounced his citizenship, and keeps his place in the trading company. He and Christiana, Morvan's sister, spend some of their time in London.”

“An unusual story.”

“An unusual man.” He turned his attention to the rising portcullis and the sounds of approaching horses.

Six riders trotted into the yard. Reyna identified the comte immediately. He was a very handsome man with golden-brown hair. He swung off his horse and walked toward the keep with a vague smile on his lips and intelligent scrutiny in his deep blue eyes.

Ian strode forward and the two men greeted warmly. They spoke only a few words before David turned to the women. Margery stood forward in the position of prominence, and the comte accepted her proffered hand in a courtly gesture of greeting. “Lady Reyna, I assume.”

Margery flustered.

“Nay, this is Lady Margery, Thomas Armstrong's wife,” Ian explained. “That woman there is Robert Kelso's widow.” He crooked his finger at Reyna.

She walked over, knowing that she looked very poor compared to Margery and the others. She wore no jewels and had refused to don heavy velvets. She wondered if this comte was the sort of man to be insulted by her lack of effort.

Beautiful hands took her own graciously. Intense blue eyes ignored her gown and looked only at her face. She
experienced the uncomfortable feeling that another mind had just invaded her own and instantly learned all that it needed to know.

She was struck by the unaccountable fear that her situation had just become much more precarious.

W
hat are these other chambers?” David asked as Ian led him to the solar door.

“Lady Margery has one, and the other ladies have moved up here for seclusion. Lady Reyna's nun's cell is down there.”

“Nun's cell? And here I thought that you had created a harem for yourself. Protected by and accessible only to the sultan.”

David walked around the solar, and his attention quickly lit on the shelves with their books. He became absorbed, handling them carefully while he examined bindings and flipped pages. “This is an excellent library, better than most bishops own. Aquinas and Augustine. Penitential tracts, but also part of the
Roman de la Rose
. An Ovid.” He opened a cover. “Several of these came from the same source. They bear a device with the initials of a previous owner. J.M.”

Ian lifted a tattered quarter folio from the shelf. “You should find this interesting. Bernard of Clairveaux, with a gloss commentary in the margins in French.”

Ian watched David peruse the volumes and considered what he knew about this merchant-turned-comte. David had been one of the first English merchants to travel south and east and establish a trading network. That network had made him wealthy before he turned twenty-five. An enigmatic man, easy to know superficially but almost impossible to know well.

“What brings you here?” Ian finally asked.

David turned his attention away from the books. “I was at Carlisle awaiting the ship from London, but it has been delayed and I grew bored. I went to Harclow, and Morvan asked me to come here before I returned to the port.”

Morvan had asked him to come and check on Ian of Guilford, was what Ian knew he meant. Morvan owed Ian the debt of his life, and had agreed to repay it with this chance of redemption, but Fitzwaryn was not entirely comfortable using a free company in his private war.

“As you can see, all is in order and the people are well cared for. This tower would have fallen sooner if Morvan had told me about the postern tunnel.”

“He did not know about it. It wasn't here when he was a youth, or at least his father never mentioned it to him. Most likely Sir Robert built it. Morvan is very pleased with your success here.”

“How goes the siege at Harclow?”

“The hunger finally forced them to send out the nonessential people. The women, children, and some servants. Morvan was waiting for it. Now he will attack. The machines are built and ready. Once the ship arrives with the men King Edward promised, it will be done.” He paused. “It will be bloody.”

“Does he want me there? Anyone could hold this tower now.”

“When it is time, he may call for you. Now, however, he wants you here, keeping an eye on the roads down from the Armstrong manor at Clivedale. We expect Thomas Armstrong to attempt a relief action. Your news that Maccus is inside Harclow explained much, by the way. How did you learn that?”

“Lady Reyna let it slip.”

“We learned from the men whom you sent that she led you to the tunnel. Did you seduce her into it?”

“Is that what the men said? Aye, I did, but not in the way that they mean.” Ian described the events of that day.

“Shrewd of you to see through her plan. A vainer man might have decided she had fallen in love watching from the tower, and used the ruse to fulfill her desire.”

“No such good fortune. She came to kill me.”

“A brave woman. Quite lovely. When I first saw her, she reminded me of Elizabeth at first. Much younger, of course.”

Ian flinched at this casual mention of the widow with whom he had spent two years of his life.

“She sends you her affection,” David added. “She was wounded that you did not visit her when you passed near London.”

Aye, she had sent her affection. But she had sent Morvan Fitzwaryn her love. One of the old tensions between them.

“Tell me about Lady Reyna,” David said.

“She is bold and willful and nothing but trouble. A little hellcat. She has caused the well to go dry, I am sure, and never speaks to me without cursing me.”

“Your men also brought the story of Sir Robert's death.”

“I do not believe that of her.”

“Still, strife which you do not need.”

“Strife or not, she will be safe here, as Morvan ordered.”

“The men who came with Gregory also say that she has become your lover.” David spoke with the tone of a man being casual but wanting information nonetheless.

“I let them think it to protect her from them. I understand Morvan's goals here, David, but these men have lived a rough life a long while now—”

“I am not here to criticize, Ian. But I am glad to hear you have not taken up with her, because it will be best if the lady leaves.”

So that was why David had come. To remove Reyna. The realization that she would disappear soon, that he would not even have her company at meals, numbed him in a strange way.

“As you know, Ian, Morvan has promised her safety to her father. Duncan Graham's neutrality is important.” David explained as if he sensed that Ian needed convincing. “Morvan can not be fighting the Grahams while he also deals with the Armstrongs. With the accusations against Lady Reyna, the issue of her safety takes on new meaning. If the Armstrongs abduct her from here to judge her, the Grahams will interfere.”

Ian listened to the relentless logic that would remove Reyna from Black Lyne Keep. “Where will you take her?”

“To her father, Duncan Graham. The colors of Senlis are permitted to cross his border.”

“She may not want to go back there. She has asked to leave, but not to go to her father.”

“She will be safe there. Call the lady, Ian.”

His squire John waited outside the door, and Ian sent him to fetch Reyna. While they waited he asked David about Christiana and their children. David's normally inscrutable face lit when he talked about his family, and a warm expression suffused his eyes at the mention of Christiana in particular. Ian had seen that look on young men newly enraptured, but rarely in a man married for years. He glanced away, because the emotions that he saw left him a little hollow.

Reyna arrived, looking like a servant in the simple gown she wore in the kitchen. At least she had removed the kerchief.

David invited Reyna to sit in the chair, and then perched himself on the stool behind the desk. “I met with your father before this war began,” he said. “He was concerned for your safety once the fighting started.”

“I find that peculiar—er— How am I to address you, my lord?”

My lord
. Ian's teeth gritted.

“David would be fine.”

“I will not be comfortable addressing you thus.”

“Then, if you prefer, Sir David. I finally allowed Morvan to knight me some years back. Since he once threatened to kill me with his sword, I thought this other use of it wonderfully ironic.”

She laughed, lyrically. “That will suit me better, Sir David. Anyway, I have not seen my father since I left his household twelve years ago. Nor have I heard from him. His sudden interest makes little sense.”

“You are his daughter.”

A silence ensued. Ian watched Reyna. She was acting like a demure, sweet woman. Submissive. Not one whoreson or bastard out of her yet.

David absently pulled a book toward him. A little frown puckered Reyna's brow. “Do be careful, Sir David,” she blurted. “They are very rare.”

“I know their value, my lady. This is a large library for a minor Scottish lord. Some of these are quite old. How did your husband come by them?”

“He had some when he came back to Scotland. Over the years he purchased more. Some of them are mine.”

“Back to Scotland from where?”

“He had traveled widely. Constantinople and Greece,
I think. Then the Continent. France. It was long ago. Upon returning he met Maccus Armstrong and entered his service, and had been here ever since.”

“I am sorry that I never met him. We would have had much to discuss. You say some of these are yours?”

“A few. I keep them here with the others. I trust that when I am allowed to leave that I will be permitted to take them.”

“The laws of chivalry say a noblewoman should be allowed to take her clothing and jewels. They do not mention books.”

For the first time since she had entered, Ian saw a flash of the Reyna he knew. “I own no jewels, Sir David. These books are all I possess. I chose them instead of fine garments and pearls,” she said pointedly.

“It will be for Morvan to decide their disposition. It would help if your ownership were documented. Perhaps your husband's accounts made note of it. Have you found the papers related to this estate, Ian? The ledgers and charters and whatnot?”

“The ledgers, but nothing else. I assume that Thomas took the rest when he escaped.” Actually, he
had
found something else: the ambiguous letter from the bishop. It was now tucked among his own belongings.

David abruptly lost interest in the books. “Your father has made your safety an important matter, Lady Reyna, whether you accept the sense of it or not. Considering the accusations made against you in your husband's death, it would be best to remove you from here. Tomorrow I will bring you to your family.”

His announcement stripped Reyna of her demure demeanor. She shot to her feet. “The hell you will.”

“The charges against you promise to complicate things in ways we do not need. You will return to your father.”

“My father has no authority over me.” She raised her chin obstinately. “He handed that over when he gave me to Robert. He has no rights to me, and I will not return there.”

“Would you return to those who
do
have authority over you?”

“And who would that be? My husband had no family. His liege lord, Maccus Armstrong, is besieged in Harclow. Does he want me so badly that he will open Harclow's gate to let me enter?”

Ian watched their exchange with delight.
That's my girl
.

“There is the option of sending you to Clivedale,” David said.

“If you do, Thomas Armstrong will execute me in violation of all laws and his authority. Would Morvan Fitzwaryn send me to my death, and an unjust one at that?” Reyna spoke defiantly, but the threat had some effect, because her body shook as though a chill had slid through it.

David studied her. “Why do you refuse to return to your father? It is the safest place for you.”

“Have you visited my father's household, Sir David? Surely you noticed the fear in the servants. You saw the way the women were treated and used. It has been thus since he put my mother away.”

“I saw what you describe. But you are his daughter. Surely—”

“It was no different for me as a child, and it will be worse now. Duncan Graham holds no love for me. I will not go back there.”

The air pulsed with the force of emotion echoing off her words.

“Ian said that you have asked to leave, however.”

“Aye, but not to go to Duncan. I wish to go to Edinburgh. I have a friend there who will help me.”

“Who is this friend?”

“His name is Edmund.”

Edmund?
“Edmund!” Ian shouted.

“He is the brother of one of my husband's knights. He is a cleric,” she said, keeping her eyes on David. “A Hospitaller, with the knightly Order of Saint John. He is attached to their prefectory near Edinburgh. He knows of a widow who will give me a home.”