Chapter Five

A ubert nearly ran Reina down on the stairs as she mounted them with Theodric at her side. If Theo had not caught her, she would have gone tumbling backwards, yet the squire was so agitated he did not even think to apologize.

“Thank God you are come at last, my lady! The lord has somehow taken insult that you have not received him. He affrighted Lady Elaine to death and—”

“And you as well, I see,” Reina snapped impatiently. “ Jesú , I told you to make them welcome, Aubert. Did you offer refreshment, see to their comfort?”

“I—I did not think you would be so long, and—and he is monstrous, my lady. I have never seen a man so—”

“Lackwit! Do you tell me all this time no one has attended them?”

“I thought you would be down.”

“I never came up! There were wounded who needed immediate attention and—oh! Never mind. I swear, Aubert, you have me so wroth, if I do not see you for a sennight, ’twill be too soon. Do something right and pull me up these stairs. I am tired unto death and, thanks to you, cannot even sneak past them to get to my chamber as I intended. Theo, do not just stand there grinning like an idiot. Help!”

“You must admit, my lady, that we do not often see you in such a grouch.” Theo chuckled as he pulled on one arm, and Aubert the other, to maneuver the last few stairs. “’Tis most novel and enlightening. There, can you manage now?” he asked at the top of the stairs.

“Aye, and you will find yourself demoted to the kitchens if I am treated to any more of your humor. You overstep yourself, but then you always do. I am in no mood for it just now. And where the devil is everyone?” she said as she looked across the hall to find it empty except for those few men by the hearth at the far side of it.

“I told you he was fearsome,” Aubert said indignantly.

“What you said was ‘monstrous.’ Do you mean this lord has frightened everyone into hiding?”

“I did not see them leave because I was leaving too quickly myself, but they are wise to hide. He is not normal , Lady Reina, and do hurry.”

“Do I have reason to fear, Aubert?” she asked in all seriousness now.

“Nay, he wants to see that you are safe, is all. He would not believe me when I told him you were. Me-thinks he suspects something amiss because you have not appeared to him yet, and the longer he waits, the more suspicious he is become.”

“Well, run ahead and tell him I am found. I simply cannot hurry, Aubert, to save my soul, not with this armor now weighing as much as a horse.”

“Please, my lady, he is like to wring my neck before I get the words out if you are not beside me. Let us just go.”

She sighed and did just that, with one of them on each side of her, yet several feet behind her, she noted in disgust. Her “protectors.” She would feel safer with her ladies around her, even if most of them were children.

Shoulders slumped, her head aching from exhaustion, her body feeling as if it had been battered, and so it had been when that wounded man had fallen on her, Reina presented herself to her “savior,” started to curtsy—whether she would be able to rise by herself afterward was another matter—and found herself lifted clear off the floor instead.

“I am done with excuses, delays, and evasions, so if you have not come to tell me where the lady of this castle is, you are a dead man.”

Reina’s mouth dropped open, but not to utter any words. Words were stuck halfway down her gullet and were not likely to come up soon. He held her off the floor with his fist hooked into her mailed tunic just above her breasts, one fist, one single fist supporting her and her accursed mail more than a foot above the rushes, bringing her face up to a level with his. A peek down revealed that much; revealed, too, that he was not standing on anything to account for this height. Monstrous, Aubert had said? Sweet Jesú , this was a giant, as wide across as he was tall—well, that was an exaggeration—but he was incredibly wide across the shoulders and chest, easiest to see in her present position of looking down on things. No tall reed this, but a bear, with a bear’s growl.

She was not the only one in momentary shock. Theodric and Aubert were likewise rendered speechless, that this giant would dare, dare , to treat her so, to speak to her so, and not only that. He shook her! He actually shook her when she did not answer him soon enough.

Aubert was the first to regain his senses, only to lose them again in thinking he alone could do something. Instead of speaking up to inform the giant of his mistake, the fool lad chose that moment to finally be courageous. He leapt on the giant’s back, to be shrugged off as if he were no more than a pesky squirrel. The giant was annoyed enough by it to shake Reina even harder.

Reina then heard the most reasonable voice suggest dryly, “Mayhap if you set him down, Ranulf, the fellow would remember he has a tongue.”

But it was Theodric who did the remembering and said, “’Tis the Lady Reina you are throttling, my lord.”

Oh, curse and rot that boy for not being more subtle! The giant was so surprised he dropped her, just let go, and Reina went crashing to the floor at his feet.

They stood around her, three towering knights too stunned to move, let alone speak, staring down at her with the most ridiculous expressions. If Reina did not hurt so, she would have laughed, for this truly was the perfect topping to an otherwise rotten day. But she did see the humor in it. Later she would be mortified. Just now, it was their turn.

“Well, this is one way to discover if the rushes need changing.”

She could not have said anything to embarrass the giant more. If it were possible, his face would have gone up in flames, it burned so red.

Reina felt better already, until she tried to rise by herself and could manage no more than getting to her hands and knees. Jesú , she had to get this armor off her back—immediately. Nothing had ever made her so graceless and bone-weary, and the minute it was off, it was going straight into the fire.

Two hands slipped under her arms, and she became weightless again for a second as she was lifted and then set on her feet. Directly at eye level now was the giant’s chest. Reina refused to look any higher until she stepped back several feet so she would not have to crane her neck. And then she felt her own surprise.

That face had been a golden blur before, but now she saw each feature clearly. Golden brows, straight and thick, and far darker than the light golden hair, of a length to set on those immense shoulders. A well-shaped nose between broad cheekbones covered with sun-kissed skin. Firm lips over a square-cut jaw shaded with dark bronze stubble. It was a face harsh in its masculinity, yet even so, incredibly handsome. And he had violet eyes, piercing, narrowing now as she stared. Violet! Imagine that.

Ranulf could feel his anger returning, and centering solely on the lady, if lady she really was. He had thought her a man, albeit a little one, but a man nonetheless, and who would not think so with her shapeless mail hauberk that fell to her knees, mailed chausses on her legs, a mail coif clinging to her head, leaving only a small oval of her face visible. Even her brows and chin were covered by the coif, and there was dried blood on her sleeves and hands.

She might not be wearing a sword or any other weapon, but she in no way appeared to be a woman—except her voice was soft and melodic, but heard too late to keep him from making a fool of himself. He did not even have the appeasement of seeing her react to him as most females did. She might have been surprised, but for no more than a second. Her large blue eyes, as pale as the morning sky, held no admiration or fascination as they looked him over. They were direct now, without fear, with just the barest trace of curiosity.

“Thank you,” he heard her say in response to his assistance.

“Nay, I must beg your pardon,” he heard himself answer, when what he wanted to do was rip that coif off her head to see if he could then determine if she was child or woman. He did not like not knowing.

And then she surprised him by taking full blame for his mistake, when she had every right to upbraid him instead. “Nay, my lord, ’tis I who must beg pardon for receiving you like this, and so causing confusion. I had hoped to change first, but Aubert said you were—impatient—to be assured of my safety.”

The dark-haired man beside the golden giant laughed suddenly. “And so you were safe, demoiselle, until you came before my friend here. Allow me to present to you this chagrined fellow who is feeling much the fool, Ranulf Fitz Hugh, and our young friend, Searle of Totnes.”

“And you are?”

“Walter de Breaute, at your service.”

She inclined her head to each of them, though she was waiting for the giant to speak again. But he did not, did no more than glower at Walter de Breaute for making light of his embarrassment.

They might have given their names, but Reina was aware they had not really said who they were. Still, courtesy demanded. “I am Reina de Champeney and I bid you welcome to Clydon. Your arrival was most timely, as I am sure you have realized.”

Walter was quick to forestall her thanks. “How long were you under siege?”

“There was no siege. They attacked with the dawn, after their man who had passed the night with us opened the outer gates to them.”

“And you went out to fight them yourself?”

Now that the giant was heard from again, his contempt unmistakable, Reina could have wished he had kept his mouth shut. “To fight, nay. My man. Sir William, was bedfast, and there was no one else capable of taking charge.”

“You sent for help?”

“There was no time,” Reina answered without thinking, then paled to realize what a fool she was to give him that information before knowing his purpose there.

He might have saved her from one devil, but he could as like as not be another. And she would swear he seemed relieved with her answer, that his lips were not so tightly drawn now, his stance more relaxed.

“Why have you no—”

Reina cut hint off. “You have not said what brings you to Clydon Castle.”

“We come from your lord.”

Reina relaxed at once. That was a strange way to say he was from Guy of Shefford, but then he was a strange man. They no doubt had been asked to deliver another letter from the earl’s castellan on their way past Clydon, since she had not yet answered the last one as to the date of her wedding. Nor could she answer this one, at least not until John de Lascelles arrived next week and she knew whether he would be agreeable to marrying her or not. Lord Richard, whom she would have preferred to wed, was still in Ireland, according to his castellan’s last reply, seeing to his father’s lands there. The man had been unable to tell her when Richard would return. But these were her problems and must await another time.

Since these men were vassals to Shefford, as she was now herself, it was her due to have their help, so she need not feel quite so beholden. But they were indeed welcome, even if they were only Shefford retainers.

“Forgive my abruptness, Sir Ranulf. I must confess I am sore overset by this morning’s happenings. I will answer all of your questions, but allow me, please, to see to your comfort first.” At his reluctant nod, she sighed with relief and turned to Aubert, who was just now dusting off his clothes from his sprawl in the rushes. She was too tired to bother with her own. “Get the servants back to set up the tables for dinner, then send my steward to me for further orders. He will see to Sir Ranulf’s men, so you report to Lady Margaret. I wish to know how Sir William fares. Theo, find Dame Hilary and have her prepare several chambers, with baths for each, and wine. Do not forget the wine. And send Lady Elaine to the wounded. I took care of the most needful, but there is still minor stitching to do, and ’tis time she learned to apply her needle to flesh. Then you may see to me.”

Walter watched her walk away from them and shook his head. “She can barely stand up, let alone get to her chamber, and God’s wounds, did you hear the way she took command, and she such a tiny thing? Mayhap I should help her…” His words trailed off as Ranulf left his side, and his mouth dropped open when be saw Ranulf had left to follow the lady himself.

Ranulf reached her in only three strides and scooped her up in his arms. He heard her gasp but ignored it, continuing on to the stairs she had been heading toward.

“You should not wear armor if you cannot carry its weight,” was all he said.

Well she knew it but did not say so, too afeard at the moment of his intent. But that fear lasted only as long as it took him to mount the stairs, mere seconds, even though the stairwell in the east corner tower rose the two-storied height of the Great Hall to reach the third floor of the keep. At the top he set her down and, with a curt nod, immediately returned below.

How chivalrous, she thought, then thought of him no more. The door to the lord’s chambers was right there, with the stairs continuing up to the battlements surrounding the roof, but Reina moved slowly down the narrow passage that cut through the thick wall of the keep, lit by several window embrasures. She passed the women’s quarters, where most of her ladies slept in a chamber beyond, with the weaving-and-sewing room in front where the chambermaids slept, and finally reached her own small chamber in the north tower. She could have long since moved into the spacious lord’s chamber, but her grief had kept her from it, and when she married would be soon enough to take up residence there.

Her room was empty, as it should be this time of morning, and Reina slumped back against the door with a weary sigh, too tired to move even a few feet more to her bed. She could not think of the rest of the day, the entertaining she must do, the questions she had promised to answer for her guests. It was so hard speaking to visitors, never knowing how much to say, who might be aware of her circumstances, lying to anyone who was not. The lying was the worst, and it was her father who had started it all, thinking he was doing as she would want.

If only Lord Raymond had not died, she would have wed before her father left to follow King Richard on Crusade two years ago. She had been betrothed to Raymond when she was only three, had never thought to object to the match even though she barely knew Raymond, had seen him no more than a half-dozen times in her whole life. But when it was time for them to marry, he had become a favorite of Henry’s court, and the old king had made much use of him, sending him hither and yon to do his bidding. There never seemed to be time for Raymond to send for her, or to come himself to Clydon so they could speak their vows. And then she had received the news that he had died while crossing the Channel, drowned while trying to save a child who had fallen overboard.

Reina was saddened by the news, but ’twas not as if she knew the man well enough to truly grieve for him. Yet his dying had certainly put her in a fix, for her father had already taken the vow to go crusading with his overlord, Lord Guy, and the new king, Richard Lion-Heart. There she was, fifteen, unwed, and Roger de Champeney about to depart for the Holy Land, with no time to find her another husband.

So he had bidden her to make some choices of her own and send them to him for his approval, and this she had done. But her first letter to him had not reached him. She heard from him first, of how they had stopped to conquer Cyprus, and of the king’s marriage there to Berengaria of Navarre. He had taken four of his vassals with him and had lost one to fever in Cyprus.

There had been a cart full of loot with that letter, but she had been loath to sell any of it no matter how much she needed the money, for it came from the Crusade, and that made it almost holy.

Her second letter had reached him still in Cyprus, for the king had stayed long there, and her father wrote again, approving of two of the men whose names she had submitted: Lord John de Lascelles, who used to be one of her father’s retainers until his brother died and he inherited the family lands in Wales, and Richard de Arcourt, heir to Lyonsford, and already in possession of Warhurst Keep and town, which was only a few hours’ ride from Clydon. Both men Reina knew fairly well and liked; both she felt she could deal well with as husbands. Both men were young and fair to the eye. Richard was possessed of a fine humor and could make her laugh; John was good and kind. She would be happy with either, but her preference was Richard.

Her father died in the siege of Acre just a month after he had written his last letter, so he never knew of her preference. The letter she got from the earl, informing her of his death, also mentioned that Roger had told him she was betrothed again, only he had apparently been delirious before he died and had not given the earl a name. “I have no fear that whoever Roger chose for you will be acceptable to me and willing to do me homage. He loved me too well, and I him, to put an enemy of mine in Clydon, so this is to officially give you my permission, and my blessing on your wedding.” But the earl also went on to say be wanted the deed done within a few months for her own safety, and news of it sent to him.

Reina had been confused, until she realized what her father had done. He had lied to his friend and overlord to give Reina her preference, one of the two men he had approved for her, otherwise Lord Guy, who became her guardian on her father’s death, had the right to choose a man for her, or even to sell her wardship instead, keeping her unmarried, though he was not likely to do that. Although he had always been kind to her and loved her because he loved her father, such things were not considered when making an alliance. And without his permission and his approval of the man she married, she could lose her inheritance.

So she had written to Richard, asking him to come to Clydon. She had not said why, unwilling to propose an alliance in a letter, but she had conveyed an urgency. He had been difficult to locate, and after a month had passed and she had yet to hear from him, she had written to John, too, willing at this point to take either one of them, especially with the earl’s castellan pressing her for a date. After this morning and Falkes de Rochefort’s effort to take her, the urgency was far more critical. She was lucky that in all these months, he was the only one to try.

Reina started to push herself away from the door, only to have it push back at her as it opened. Her shout stopped Theodric from sending her flying.

“Reina, you should have seen that slut Eadwina wagging her tail in his face,” Theo said in disgust. “And Dame Hilary will send her to bathe him unless you say otherwise. Let me see to him, Reina, please? Eadwina always gets—”

“See to who?”

He gave a dramatic sigh. “The golden behemoth. Who else?”

Reina sighed normally. Who else indeed? “Go.” She waved a hand. “What do I care?” And then: “Wait! Get this devil’s weight off my back first.”

He did, stripping her down faster than he ever had before. She almost laughed at his impatience. And he had called Eadwina a slut?

When only her underwear was left, the sweaty short shift and braies, she collapsed on the bed. “Did you at least see to my bathwater ere you rushed up here?”

“Of course,” he replied indignantly as he tossed her armor into a corner.

“Then send Wenda to me. And, Theo?” She leaned up on her elbows to warn him. “If your ‘behemoth’ is not interested, best get out of his way right quickly.”

The boy nodded, grinned and was gone.