The Velvet Promise (22 page)

She demanded more and more of Jocelin, calling him constantly to play for her and every night to her bed, where the violence she desired drained him more each night. And constantly he had to listen to Alice's hatred of Judith Revedoune, and of how Alice was going to visit King Henry VII and get Gavin Montgomery back.

He looked to see if anyone watched him as he climbed the ladder to the little loft room. For the first time, Constance was awake to greet him. She sat up, clutching the blanket about her nude body. For days, while she'd been dazed with fever, Jocelin had cared for her, becoming as familiar with her body as his own. It did not occur to him that he was a stranger to her.

"Constance!" he said joyfully, not completely aware of her fear. He knelt beside her. "How good it is to see your eyes again." He took her face in his hands to examine the bruises which were healing quickly, thanks to her youth and Jocelin's care. He started to move the mantle from her bare shoulders to attend to her other wounds.

"No," she whispered, closing the mantle.

He looked down at her in surprise.

"Who are you?"

"Ah, sweet, don't be afraid of me. I'm Jocelin Laing. You met me before with the Lady Alice. Don't you remember?"

At the mention of Alice's name, Constance's eyes darted from one side of the room to the other. Jocelin pulled her into his arms—a place where she'd spent much time though did not know it. She tried to pull away from him, but she was too weak.

"It's all over now. You're safe. You are here with me and I won't let anyone harm you."

"Lord Edmund—" she whispered against his shoulder.

"No, he doesn't know you're here. No one does, only me. I've kept them all from knowing about you. He thinks you're dead."

"Dead? But—"

"Quiet." He smoothed her hair. "There will be time for talk later. First you must heal. I have brought you a soup of carrots and lentils. Can you chew?"

She nodded against him, not relaxed but not stiff either. He moved her to arm's length. "You can sit?" She nodded again, and he smiled as if she had accomplished a great feat of strength.

Jocelin had become adept at sneaking warm pots of food into the loft.

No one seemed to think it odd that he carried his lute over his shoulder and the lute case in his arms. But each night he filled the case with food he hoped would nourish the feverish Constance.

He held the bowl and began to feed her as if she were a child. She moved her hand to take the spoon from him, but she shook too much to hold it. When she could eat no more, her eyes dropped in exhaustion. She would have fallen if Jocelin hadn't caught her. Too weak to protest, he cradled her in his lap and she drifted off to sleep easily, indeed feeling protected.

When Constance woke, she was alone. It took a few moments to remember where she was. The young man with thick black lashes who hummed in her ear couldn't have been real. What was real was Edmund Chatworth's hands about her throat, Alice's twisting of her arms, pulling her hair, any method to give pain that would not show.

Hours later, Jocelin returned and he held Constance in his arms, both snuggled deep under his mantle. He was not aware of time passing. For the first time in his life, the desires of women did not rule him.

Constance's complete dependency on him brought an emotion he'd never known before—the beginning of love. All the love he'd ever felt for all the women was being concentrated into one fierce and burning passion.

But Jocelin was not a free man. There were others who watched him.

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The long, thin black leather of the whip snaked angrily across the man's back. His back was already crisscrossed with many oozing stripes. He screamed loudly each time the whip struck him and twisted his hands frantically away from the braided rawhide thongs that held him to the post.

John Bassett looked toward Gavin, who nodded curtly. Gavin had no stomach for the punishment, and he had even less respect for the man's womanly screams.

John Bassett cut the bindings and the man fell into the grass. No one made any move to help him. "Shall I leave him?" John asked.

Gavin looked toward the castle across the narrow valley. It had taken two weeks to find Walter Demari. The wily little man seemed more interested in a cat-and-mouse chase than in getting what he wanted. For the last week, Gavin had camped outside the walls and worked on his attack. He had gone to the walls and called up challenges to the guards at the gate, but his words were ignored. Yet, even while the challenges were made, four of Gavin's men quietly dug beneath the ancient walls. But the walls were deep, the foundations broad. It was going to take much too long to break through. He feared that Demari would grow tired of waiting for Gavin's surrender and kill Helen.

As if he didn't have enough problems, one of his men, this mewling creature at his feet, had decided that since he was a knight of one of the Montgomerys, he was close to God. During the night, Humphrey Bohun had ridden into the nearest town and raped a merchant's fourteen-year-old daughter, then ridden back to camp triumphant. He was bewildered by Lord Gavin's rage when the girl's father told of his daughter.

"I don't care what you do with him. Just make sure he's out of my sight within the next hour." Gavin pulled his heavy leather gloves from where they hung over his belt. "Call Odo to me."

"Odo?" John's face took on a hard look. "My lord, you can't be thinking again of traveling to Scotland."

"I must. We've discussed this before. I don't have enough men to declare a full attack on the castle. Look at it! It looks as if a good wind would crumble the rest of the stones away but I swear the Normans knew how to build a fortress. I think it's made of poured rock. If we're to get inside before the end of the year, I'll need Stephen's help."

"Then let me go for him."

"And when were you last in Scotland? I have an idea where Stephen is, and tomorrow morning I'll take four men and find him."

"You'll need more protection than just four men."

"I can ride faster with fewer," Gavin said. "I can't afford to split up my men. Half of them are with Judith. Now, if I ride away with half again, it will leave you too unprotected. Let's just hope Demari doesn't realize I've gone."

John knew Lord Gavin was right, but he didn't like his master riding away without a good guard. But he'd learned long ago that it was no use trying to argue with a man as stubborn as Gavin.

The man at their feet groaned, recalling their attention to him. "Get him out of here!" Gavin said and stalked toward where his men were building a catapult.

Without thinking, John put a strong arm under the knight's shoulder and lifted him.

"All this because of a little slut!" the man hissed, spittle forming at the corners of his mouth.

"Shut up!" John ordered. "You had no right to treat the girl like a heathen. If it'd been me, I would have had you hanged." He half-dragged the bleeding man to the edge of the camp, where John gave him a shove that sent him sprawling. "Now get out of here and don't come back."

Humphrey Bohun pulled the grass out of his mouth and looked after John's retreating form. "Oh, I'll be back. And it'll be me who's holding the whip next time."

The four men were very quiet as they made their way to waiting horses.

Gavin had not told anyone except John Bassett of his journey to find Stephen. The three men who rode with him had all fought with Gavin in Scotland and they knew the rough, wild countryside. The group would travel as lightly as possible, without a herald carrying the Montgomery banner before them. All the men wore brown and green in an attempt to draw as little attention to themselves as possible.

They slipped silently into their saddles and walked their horses away from the sleeping camp.

They were barely ten miles from the camp when they were surrounded by twenty-five men wearing Demari's colors.

Gavin drew his sword and leaned over to Odo. "I will attack and cut a path through. You escape and get to Stephen."

"But my lord! You will be killed!"

"Do as I say," Gavin commanded.

Demari's men encircled the little group very slowly. Gavin looked about to find their weakest spot. They looked at him smugly, as if they knew the battle was already won. Then Gavin saw Humphrey Bohun. The rapist grinned in delight to see his former master so cornered.

Immediately, Gavin knew where he'd made his mistake. He'd spoken to John about his journey in front of this piece of filth. Gavin nodded to Odo, lifted his long steel broad sword with both hands on the hilt and charged.

Demari's men were stunned. They had orders to take Lord Gavin prisoner.

They'd assumed that when he was outnumbered more than six to one, he would surrender docilely.

That moment of hesitation cost Humphrey Bohun his life and allowed Odo to escape. Gavin hacked at the traitor, and he died before he could even grab his sword. Another and another fell under Gavin's sword as it flashed brilliantly against the rays of the rising sun. Odo's well-trained animal leaped over the dead bodies and the screaming horses, and galloped for the safety of the woods. He had no time to see if anyone followed him. He kept his head low and molded himself to his horse.

Gavin had chosen his men well. The two who were now beside him backed their horses together, the animals trained to follow the commands given by their masters' knees. The three men fought valiantly and when one of them fell, Gavin felt part of himself fall. They were his men and he was close to them.

"Cease!" a voice commanded over the clash of steel against steel, the cries of anguish.

The men drew back quickly and when their eyes cleared, they began to access the damage. At least fifteen of Demari's men lay dead or wounded, unable to stay on their mounts.

The horses of the men in the middle still stood their ground, rump to rump in pinwheel fashion. The man on Gavin's left had a deep slash across the top of his arm. Gavin, heaving with exertion, was covered with blood, but very little of it was his own.

The remaining of Demari's men looked on in silent tribute to the unarmored fighters.

"Take them!" said the man who seemed to be the leader of the attackers. "But see that Montgomery comes to no harm. He is needed alive."

Gavin lifted his sword again but suddenly there was a sharp sting and his hands were immobilized. A thin whip had been thrown, and his arms were pinned to his sides.

"Tie him."

Even as Gavin was dragged from his horse, his foot caught one man in the throat.

"Are you afraid of him?" the leader demanded. "You'll die anyway if you don't obey me. Tie him to that tree. I'd like him to watch how we treat captives."

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Judith was kneeling in the rose garden, her lap full of blossoms. Gavin had been gone a month now, with no word for the last ten days. There wasn't a moment that she didn't glance out a window or through a doorway to see if a messenger had arrived. She swayed between wanting to see him and dreading his return. He had too much hold over her, as he'd proven when she'd gone to his room the night before he left to fight for her lands. Yet she knew well enough that he had no such ambiguous feelings toward her. For him only the blonde Alice existed; his wife was only a toy to be used when he needed amusement.

She heard the clatter of arms as the men rode through the double gate that separated the inner bailey from the outer. She stood quickly, the roses falling to her feet as she picked up her skirts and began to run. None of them was Gavin. Judith released her pent-up breath, lowered her skirts and walked more sedately.

John Bassett sat atop his war-horse looking many years older than he had when he left some weeks before. His hair, graying at the temples, was even whiter now. His eyes were sunken, dark circles under them. The side of his chain mail had been torn and the edges of the cut were rusted from blood. The other men were no better; their faces haggard, their clothes torn and filthy.

Judith stood silently while John dismounted. "Take the horses," she said to a stableboy. "See that they are cared for."

John looked down at her a moment; then, with resignation, started to kneel to kiss her hand.

"No!" Judith said quickly. She was too practical to allow him to waste more energy in what, to her, was a useless gesture. She put her arm about his waist, guided his arm about her shoulders.

John stiffened, taken aback by the familiarity of his little mistress. Then he smiled fondly at the top of her head.

"Come and sit by the fountain," she said as she led him to the tiled pool just inside the garden wall. "Joan!" she commanded, "bring some of the other maids and send someone from the kitchen with food and wine."

"Yes, my lady."

She turned back to John. "I'll help you remove your armor," she said before he could protest.

Women came from inside the castle and soon the four men were bared from the waist up, their armor sent for repair. Each man ate ravenously of hot bowls of thick stew.