The Silken Cord (26 page)

Oh, how she loved him. In the face of his
tremendous valor, how could she show any less courage?

“Yes, I am well.” Standing in front of the
king’s table, Ariana curtsied low before William.

“Princess Ariana,” the king acknowledged
her. “I’ve decided the best way to unite the border is to wed you
to one of my lords.”

Ariana tensed. “I’m a princess of Wales,
sire. You have no right to do such a thing.”

A muscle began to tick in the king’s jaw.
“You’re my prisoner. I may do as I wish with you.”

Like his knights, William still wore his
chain mail, but the deep purple of his soft linen chainse declared
him a royal. But she also had royal blood flowing through her
veins.

She lifted her head and met the king’s eyes.
“Before his death, my father entered into negotiations to betroth
me to Wulfgar de Conteville. I’ll accept him as my husband and none
other.”

Wulfgar shifted beside her, but she didn’t
look at him. She held the king’s gaze without flinching.

The king shrugged. “Unfortunately, de
Conteville has been condemned.”

“Then I’ll wed Lord Carlinham in exchange
for Wulfgar’s freedom.”

One of William’s eyebrows rose and he spoke
in a dry tone. “You’ll wed whom I tell you to wed, princess.”

He wouldn’t deal with her. A lump rose in
her throat, choking off her air supply. She could not speak.

“In the meantime, sit there.” William
pointed at a seat beside Edwin.

She hesitated. All was not yet lost. Obeying
the king, she skirted the table. If she could get into the king’s
good graces, perhaps she might help Wulfgar escape.

She sat beside Edwin, pulling the chair as
far away as possible. When he grinned at her discomfort, she
bristled, then blinked in surprise. Someone had knocked out one of
his front teeth.

She laughed. Edwin closed his gap-toothed
mouth and glowered at her.

William lifted a goblet and drank deeply,
his eyes glowing with amusement. Then he looked at Ariana, his dark
eyes boring into hers. “Tell me, Princess Ariana, do you support
Lord Wulfgar’s cause, or your own?”

“I support the cause of my people,” Ariana
answered truthfully.

“Yet, you have championed Wulfgar.”

She nodded her head. “I believe Wulfgar is
innocent of offence against you. I don’t understand all that has
happened to convince you otherwise, but I will never believe
Wulfgar guilty of treason.”

She was conscious of the appreciation in
Wulfgar’s eyes. Did her approval mean so much to him?

She glanced at Edwin. “If it means my death,
I would revenge myself upon Edwin of Carlinham. In return for the
death of my father, I will kill Lord Carlinham one day.”

Edwin’s eyes flared with surprise. Silence
prevailed, her threat more chilling because of her calmness and
also because she was a woman.

The king chuckled. “Perhaps you’ll change
your mind about wanting the princess for your wife, Carlinham. She
could kill you in your sleep.”

William took another long drink from his
cup, his gaze never wavering. “I can understand your animosity for
Carlinham. But why do you defend Lord Wulfgar? He’s a Norman and an
enemy to your people. Do you forgive him so freely for the deaths
he has caused?”

She thought of her brothers and father.
Wulfgar hadn’t killed them. He’d tried to negotiate peace with her
father, not war. Though she would have liked to punish the ones
responsible for her brothers’ deaths, no longer could she hate all
Normans. Or Wulfgar.

Shaking her head, she considered her words
carefully. “Wulfgar has fought more for life than death. I believe,
if he’s restored to Cynan, peace will return to our border. If Lord
Carlinham rules here, there will always be war.”

The king tilted his head in
acknowledgement.

Casting caution aside, she continued. “Lord
Carlinham is a vile man with evil ambitions. He’s used trickery and
deception and has broken every treaty he’s ever made with my
people. He even confessed to me that he strangled his wife before
throwing her down a flight of stairs.”

A gasp swept the room. Edwin’s face drained
of color and he jumped to his feet, blustering with fury. “She
lies, sire.”

The king held up a silencing hand.

“But, sire!”

The king’s hand did not lower and Edwin
wisely sank back into his seat, staring at Ariana with naked hate.
She inwardly shuddered to think what he might do to her if he had
her in his power. She prayed silently that God never let that day
come.

Anger darkened William’s ruddy cheeks and
his brows lowered in an ominous glare. “Princess, do you realize
what you accuse Lord Carlinham of?”

She lifted her chin. “I speak the truth. His
own son heard him make the claim.”

The king’s gaze swept the hall until he
found Markus sitting at one of the far tables by the outside door,
his eyes wide.

Heads turned in that direction and the boy
squirmed beneath so many stares.

“Markus,” the king called. “Come here,
boy.”

Slowly, Markus stood and stepped over the
wooden bench he’d been sitting on. His gaze swept his father, whose
face beamed red with fury. Markus’s eyes widened and he glanced at
Ariana, then the king. Walking as slow as honey rolling downhill in
the dead of winter, he came to stand before William. The boy stared
at the rushes on the floor and prodded a discarded chicken bone
with the tip of his leather shoe.

“Did you hear what your father was accused
of?” the king asked.

Markus nodded.

“And is it true? Did you hear your father
claim that he’d murdered your mother?”

The boy glanced at Edwin, whose expression
was dark and foreboding. Fear covered Markus’s face.

“Look at me, boy,” the king demanded.

Markus met William’s gaze. “I d…don’t want
t…to….”

“Just nod your head yes or no,” the king
said.

Markus hesitated, then nodded.

“Sire!” Edwin stabbed a finger toward the
boy. “My son was very upset when his mother died. Now he blames me
for her death. Surely you won’t listen to the imaginations of a
half-wit.”

William’s disapproving gaze rested on Edwin.
“Be quiet, Carlinham. I want to get to the bottom of this.”

Wulfgar shifted his feet and the chains
binding his hands jingled. As Ariana looked at him, his eyes
darkened, their depths filled with angry emotion, as if he longed
to pound Edwin to a pulp.

At that moment, a messenger came into the
hall and walked briskly to the head table. Going down on one knee
before the king, he bowed his head.

“Sire.”

“What is it?” William growled with
impatience.

Rising, the man stepped to William’s side
and leaned near to whisper in the king’s ear.

William waved an imperious hand. “Good. Yes,
of course. Bring him in.”

The messenger walked out of the hall and
returned momentarily. Vachel followed behind, accompanied by two
men-at-arms.

Wulfgar’s steward could barely walk. Aided
by the two guards, he approached the dais on wobbly legs. Vachel
had bathed and dressed in clean clothing. His gray hair was damp
and slicked back, his beard trimmed, the wounds on his face and
arms smoothed with shiny ointment.

It nearly broke Ariana’s heart to see
Wulfgar’s loyal servant in such a bad way. Hopefully he’d been
freed from the dungeon in time to save his life. With time, he
might recover his strength.

When he reached the king, Vachel went down
on his knees and bowed his head.

“Arise, Vachel,” the king said, his eyes
softened with kindness.

Vachel was too weak to stand on his own. The
men-at-arms lifted his frail body and he stood on trembling
legs.

“Let him sit,” the king ordered gruffly.

A wooden chair was provided. Once Vachel was
seated, the king peered at him. “Vachel Durand, it’s been a long
time since last we met.”

“Aye, sire.” Vachel’s voice quavered. “Much
sadness has befallen us since that time.”

“You were locked in the dungeon by Lord
Carlinham. What is your crime?”

Edwin slapped his hand on the tabletop and
half-rose from his seat. “Sire, this man is a thief and supporter
of Wulfgar de Conteville. He refused to swear fealty to me. I
caught him conspiring against me with the townsfolk. Later, he was
found stealing bread from the kitchen. Surely you won’t listen to
the ranting of a crazed old man.”

William held up a hand, his gaze showing
irritation. “If you speak out of turn again, I’ll have you thrown
into the dungeon. Now, sit down and shut up.”

Shifting restlessly, Edwin threw an ugly
look at Vachel. Wulfgar locked his jaw, his brows lowered with
suppressed wrath. He stared at Edwin as though he’d like to
strangle the man for what he’d done to Vachel.

“The bread I took was for the poor, sire,”
Vachel’s voice rasped. “While Lord Wulfgar ruled here, he offered
bread freely to the widows and orphans. No one went hungry at Cynan
as long as Lord Wulfgar had grain and meat to feed them. But Lord
Carlinham let them starve.”

Sitting back in his tall chair, William
rested his scarred hands along the armrests, pondering Vachel’s
words. “That explains the bread. But why wouldn’t you swear fealty
to Lord Carlinham after he became Lord of Glyndwr?”

Vachel coughed, a dry hacking sound. “I’ve
always been faithful to my king.”

William nodded. “Of course."

“I’ve also been faithful to Lord
Wulfgar.”

William frowned. “I fear he’s unworthy of
your loyalty.”

“He’s always been faithful to you,
sire.”

Sitting forward, William’s expression
darkened. “His faithfulness was condemned by the testimony of
another.”

Vachel shook his head, his gray eyes filled
with sincerity. “I mean no disrespect, sire, but Lord Huntingdon
lied.”

“How do you know that?” William
demanded.

Lifting a scrawny arm, Vachel pointed at
Edwin. “Last spring, this man imprisoned me in Cynan’s dungeon. He
took great pleasure in torturing me. He told me he’d gone to
Alnwick to meet with Lord Huntingdon and Malcolm Caennmor, the
Scottish king. Edwin agreed to lend his forces to the Scots to come
against you.”

Edwin’s face drained of color.

The king took a deep breath. “This is the
first I’ve heard this tale. Waltheof of Huntingdon testified it was
Wulfgar who conspired with him and the Scottish king, not Edwin.
Why would Huntingdon lie?”

A weak smile curved Vachel’s thin lips.
“It’s simple, my lord. Edwin of Carlinham was wed to Waltheof’s
sister, Lady Sybil. Huntingdon lied to protect her from Carlinham’s
cruel temper.”

The king’s eyes narrowed. “You haven’t heard
that Lady Sybil is dead? An unfortunate fall down a flight of
stairs.”

Vachel’s mouth dropped open and his gaze
swept over Edwin. “Nay, I hadn’t heard. But it seems a most
convenient death, if you ask me.”

Ariana watched Markus lift his head, his
gaze resting on the king. In the boy’s eyes, she saw deep,
wrenching sorrow. His mouth worked, as if he wished to speak, his
brows furrowed with the effort.

The king faced Markus and his eyes crinkled
with thought. He beckoned to the boy. “Markus, come closer, my
boy.”

Markus hesitated.

“Do not fear me. Come, stand here.” The king
pointed at a spot directly on the other side of the table.

A guard went to retrieve the boy and William
waved the man away. “Let him come to me on his own.”

Markus visibly trembled as he walked to
stand just before the king. Once, the boy’s gaze darted over to his
father, who gave a sharp shake of his head. Markus blinked and
looked back at the king.

Edwin’s gesture didn’t escape William’s keen
gaze. “No one will harm you, boy. Not even your father. You must
speak honestly to every question I ask you. Is that
understood?”

Markus nodded and a lock of dark hair fell
over his brow.

“Do you have knowledge of your mother’s
death?”

The color drained from Markus’s face and his
mouth rounded as he tried to form the words. Instead, he nodded his
head.

“My lord, this is ridiculous,” Edwin choked.
“You can see my son is frightened near to death. He’s a half-wit
and can barely speak.”

William clenched his jaw, his voice like
rolling thunder. “Lord Carlinham, did I not make it clear that I’d
have you gagged and clapped in irons if you made one more
outburst?”

“Aye, sire. My apologies.” Edwin shrank back
into his seat.

The king leaned forward, resting an elbow on
the cloth-covered table. He smiled at Markus and spoke in a calm
voice. “I know it might be difficult for you, son, but you must
speak the truth. A man’s life depends on what you say. Do you
understand the importance of the truth?”

Markus nodded and stood straighter.
“Sometimes, to be a man, y…you have to conquer y…your greatest
fears.”

Ariana tilted her head. He’d repeated
exactly what she’d said to him earlier. Her words must have pierced
the boy’s heart.

“That’s right,” the king agreed. “So, tell
me what you know.”

“I was there, sire. At Alnwick. Mother was
there, too. We h…heard them speaking.”

“Who?” the king urged.

“My father and L…Lord Huntingdon. They met
with a big man with red hair and a vile temper.” As the boy spoke,
the stutter seemed to disappear.

“Malcolm Caennmore.” William breathed the
Scottish king’s name with disgust.

Markus nodded.

Ariana’s hands tightened. Edwin’s breathing
increased and she glanced at him. His nostrils flared, like a
charging bull.

“Did you hear what they were speaking
about?” the king asked gently.

Markus hung his head, staring at his hands
as he twined them together. “Lord Waltheof said you should be sent
into exile after they took your stronghold at Winchester. He didn’t
want you killed, but Father said…he said he’d see your head upon
the executioner’s block and then put your head on a pike and let
the crows pick out your eyeballs.”