Lord of the Blade (32 page)

The bird harped at her in protest. A knock
on the door prevented her from pursuing the issue further. Ruford's
voice called forth. "Lord Corbett is ready for you now. He commands
me to bring you at once, clothed or not."

"Well, he might just get his wish.” She
slipped on her worn shoes and hurried to Ruford. "I am ready," she
remarked, opening the door.

Ruford’s mouth dropped open when she saw
her. "Those are not the clothes I delivered from Lord Corbett."

"No, they are not," she replied with a
satisfied smile. "But they are the one's that I choose to
wear."

"I do not think Lord Corbett would be very
happy about this."

"I don’t suppose he would. But I am going to
a trial, not a wedding, so what does it matter?"

"Well," mumbled the monk. "If that wasn't
the case before, I am sure 'twill be now."

Devon didn't have time to question him of
this strange comment, because of the sound of Corbett's voice
bellowing across the great hall. Ruford grabbed her arm and pulled
her along quickly. With a flapping of wings, the raven flew over
her head to Corbett's outstretched arm. He stood in front of his
elaborate chair, a scowl upon his face.

Large amounts of people ranging from
nobility to servants crowded the room awaiting Devon's trial with
mixed looks of concern and befuddled amusement upon their faces.
Heartha stood near the entrance to the great hall clutching onto
Leahla. Mercia stood next to her, her wimple covering her head, her
eyes locked on the ground. Many of the other servants stood quietly
looking on from the early morning shadows of the room.

Ruford pulled Devon through a group of
nobles who looked down their noses as she passed before them. Then,
as they approached the dais, Devon saw that even Lord Cedric and
the baron were standing near to Corbett's chair.

"Is it normal for so many to be present at a
trial?" she asked the monk.

"'Twas Lord Corbett's wish that his entire
manor be here today," he explained.

Devon was sure he probably wanted to make an
example of her. She turned her attention to the dais where Corbett
stood upon the platform towering above the rest with his large
raven perched upon his shoulder. A poor peasant man knelt humbly
before him awaiting his sentence.

"Take him away!" commanded Corbett to a
guard that stood at his side. "He will clean out the garderobes as
needed for a year. In the meantime he will pay a fine of two
pounds, and work my land till the harvest. And put him in the
stocks for a fortnight," Corbett added as an afterthought.

"Thank you, my good lord," the man
reverently groveled on the floor before him, as the guard dragged
him to his feet and out the door.

Devon was shocked that the peasant would be
thanking Lord Corbett for such an awful sentence. Just the thought
of cleaning out the last several months of human waste from the
foul garderobes turned her stomach.

"What was this man's crime?" Devon whispered
to Ruford. "Did he perhaps poach in the lord's forests, or even
worse - kill a man?"

"Oh no," Ruford whispered back. "If he had
done that, Lord Corbett would have perhaps cut off the man's
fingers, or hanged him from the battlements."

Devon shuddered. "Well then, what did he
do?"

"He insulted the lord's raven," Ruford
answered softly. "He referred to it as a dirty crow. Lord Corbett
didn't take to it very well."

"He…he insulted Lord Corbett's bird?"
Devon’s knees knocked together. "And because of that he must serve
such a harsh sentence?"

"Aye," answered Ruford, folding his hands at
his waist. "The man was lucky. I highly expected Lord Corbett to
order his tongue cut out for such a brash remark."

Devon's eyes opened wide in fear. This is a
side to Lord Corbett she didn’t want to see.

"And," added Ruford softy, "you should have
heard the sentence of the one before him. The man was a brewer who
worked in the lord's alehouse. He was caught taking more than his
share of ale than was allotted."

"I don't think I care to know." Devon
quickly stopped the monk before he could continue, thinking of all
the brash statements she'd made to Corbett and how much she liked
her tongue. Holding her hands over her stomach, feeling ready to
toss its remains onto the floor, she closed her eyes waiting for
her turn to be tried.

Mayhap she had been wrong about Corbett
being kind and gentle. She wondered what sentence two attempts to
kill a baron would bring? She knew it had to rank right up there
with treason to the king.

The raven swooped to the main table to
investigate forgotten crumbs, and Corbett looked first at her and
then to Brother Ruford.

"Where are the clothes I asked you to
deliver for the girl to wear?" His voice was gruff and very angry,
and Devon felt she should intervene before he reprimanded Ruford
for her actions.

"He gave them to me," she bravely answered
for the monk.

Corbett approached Devon, standing so close
that their bodies almost touched.

"And why aren't you wearing them?" he
questioned softly, as if not wanting everyone to hear. "Could it be
mayhap that you didn't find them to your liking?"

"I don't know if they were to my liking,"
she answered. "I never opened the bundle. I prefer to wear my own
clothes." With the flare of his nostrils and the grit of his teeth,
she knew he wasn't pleased with her answer.

"Let us not waste any more time then. I am
expected to conduct a trial, and that is exactly what I intend to
do." Then his face softened as he looked deeply into Devon's eyes.
"Unless you give me a reason not to continue. An explanation as to
why you have denied my orders, and especially what you were doing
when Malcomn found you in the baron's room with a sword raised
above him?"

Devon could not give him what he asked.
"Does it really matter? I told you I wasn't trying to kill him.
Can't you feel it in your heart that I am telling the truth?"

Corbett paused for a moment as if almost
considering her suggestion.

"My duty is to judge with the facts that have been
presented to me," he answered sternly. "If I were to make decisions
for every one of the accused by the mere way I felt in my heart, I
would be doing an injustice to not only the people but my overlord
and the king as well."

"And who are you doing an injustice to now?"
she commented. "If you sentence me unfairly when you know I speak
the truth, then it is not only me who suffers, but you."

Corbett turned and marched back to the dais.
With his back to the crowd, he almost seemed to converse with the
raven on this important topic as he leaned his hands on the table
and dropped his head closer to the bird. The raven's head cocked as
if he were listening.

The guard returned from accompanying the
last sentenced man away, and Corbett faced him. The crowd grew
still. Everyone waited to hear what Corbett would say next. And
only after he sat comfortably in his chair and crossed his legs did
he begin to speak.

"Bring me the girl!"

His command seemed to send a wave of emotion
through the concerned crowd. Devon's heart beat wildly as the guard
grabbed her arm to escort her to the front of the room, away from
the crowds and in perfect view of all.

"You have been charged with a double
attempted murder to the baron," Corbett announced. A sound of utter
shock went through the crowd.

"Shall I bring the accusers forward, my
lord?" The guard's eyes scoped the room.

"Nay," answered Corbett slowly, "for the
accusers are not here. One is unconscious, and the other is
dead.”

A louder reaction surged through the crowd
and Devon felt uncomfortable at the mention of Gilda's present
condition.

"Did the girl . . .?" The guard didn't have
to finish, for everyone wondered the same.

"She did not kill the baroness," answered
Corbett. "I saw the woman plunge over the cliff by accident.
Neither did the accused hurt Lord Malcomn. Now,” he said, looking
at Devon. "How do you plead?"

Corbett's blue eyes stared straight at her.
And as her mind raced, she felt herself remembering that first day
she'd fallen from the table into his arms and how she'd wanted to
kiss him. She'd adored him then, but feared him. Funny how things
never changed.

"I plead innocent, my lord," she finally
managed to say.

"And can you give me a reason why I should
believe you?"

"Nay." She quickly bit her lip and looked to
the ground. “I cannot, my lord."

Corbett raked his hand through his hair,
seeming as if he were perplexed by what to do next. Then finally,
slowly, he got to his feet. The silence was deafening as the group
awaited Corbett's final decision. Then, his eyes locked with
Devon's, and as his solemn face masked his decision, her heart beat
wildly as she heard him relay the verdict.

"Guilty!"

Chapter
26

A loud roar of disapproval went up from the
crowd at hearing Corbett's verdict. Devon had made some friends
while at the castle, but never had she expected such support as she
was hearing now. Her heart sank at Corbett’s decision. How could he
make such a judgment against her?

"Stop!" shouted Corbett, ordering the crowd
to be silenced. And as if either by loyalty or fear, they obeyed
immediately. "I am not finished with my verdict. As I was saying, I
proclaim this woman guilty…not for the accused crime, but only for
making me aware of the true feelings I have lodged within my
heart."

Several sighs went up from the great hall.
Kenric smiled from ear to ear. Corbett took Devon’s hands into his,
and staring deeply into her eyes, continued to talk to the crowd.
"I never realized until this woman came into my life what a fool I
had been. I'd denied myself the chance to feel my true emotions for
fear of what others might think of me."

Devon held her breath, once again getting
lost in his eyes.

"Although," he continued, "she has given me
no proof that she didn't try to kill the baron, I can't say that I
have definite proof she did it either. And since the accusers can
not come forth and the baron does not wish to pursue this, I am
dismissing the accused from trial. I will not sentence her for
something I do not feel in my heart she was ever capable of
doing."

A cheer of approval went up from the many
well-wishers scattered throughout the hall. Devon breathed a sigh
of relief. She truly did love this man. This was the gentle, caring
man she'd seen hidden behind his walls. This was the true Corbett
Blake that needed to be uncovered.

"That is not all," Corbett continued.
"Devon, I want to proclaim my love for you in front of the many
witnesses that are here today. Yes, Devon . . . I love you."

She had definitely not expected this, and
had to turn her head in order not to cry. So he really did love her
after all.

"I…I don't know what to say," stammered
Devon. Everything was happening so fast. One minute Corbett was
sentencing her, and the next he was proclaiming his love for her
before the whole castle.

"You don't have to say anything," replied
Corbett. "Anything, except that you will be my wife."

"Wife?" Devon's word came out quite a bit
louder than she expected. "You would marry a servant?"

"I would marry the woman I love," replied
Corbett. "I know now that I would, no matter if she were a servant
or a lady. You taught me the true meaning of love, Devon. Now tell
me, what is your answer?"

Devon's head spun at the excitement and she
had to lean against Corbett to steady herself. "And what does your
overlord say about you marrying one of your servants?"

Corbett looked over to Kenric who had a
large smile upon his face.

"Well," answered Corbett, "by the smile on
his face, I would say I am still in good favor."

"Yes," answered Kenric. "You definitely have
my approval."

With the hustle of the crowd, Devon felt her
walls closing in. Finally, she had gotten exactly what she wanted,
but now she was trapped by her own doing. Corbett was standing in
front of the crowd opening his heart, pledging his love for her and
yet she was being dishonest to him. But how could she tell him now
that she was the baron's heir? Once again, her timing was off and
she couldn't say she would marry Corbett without first telling him
the truth.

Her stomach clenched and her head spun as
she tried to figure out what to do. Never had a lord asked a
servant for her permission to marry him. Damn him. What was he
trying to do? One part of her wanted to jump for joy exuberantly,
shouting to the world that she would be proud to be his wife. Yet,
another part of her wanted to hide under the table, as she felt she
did not really deserve this man's total love after all.

"What do you say? asked Corbett softly. "The
crowd awaits your answer as well as I. Will you marry me and be my
wife?"

That was the last thing Devon remembered
before the overall feeling of queasiness overtook her and the room
suddenly blackened. She felt her body go limp as she fell into
Corbett's arms.

Devon opened her eyes to see Ruford sitting
next to her. She was back in the solar lying once again on
Corbett's bed. Her eyes quickly scoped the room for others, but
when she found none she almost wondered if the whole thing had been
a dream.

"What happened?" She rubbed her head in a
bewildered state.

"You swooned," replied Ruford with a small
smile. "But Lord Corbett caught you, and brought you here to
rest."

"So it wasn't a dream," she thought out
loud

"'Twas no dream," he explained. "Corbett has
asked you to be his wife."

"How did I answer?"

"You didn't. And Corbett paces the floor in
anticipation as he and the entire castle patiently await your
answer."