Chapter Two

L ady Annora de Maris strode across the frozen winter ground to the sound of crunching snow beneath her feet. ’Twas bitterly cold and she could see her breath on each exhale. Sir Merek Baringar, the knight who had once been captain of her guard, strode next to her. She had been thankful when he’d agreed to follow her when she was unwillingly torn from Meregate Castle. Her reputation as a fierce warrior had been her downfall after her husband had been killed during a siege of their home. King Stephen’s men had informed him of her skill as a fighter, and he had demanded that she place those skills under his banner, using her son as leverage against her. Just thinking of it made her want to scream.

But what good would shrieking do? Nothing! They would not return her husband to her, nor would they earn the release of her son, Leif, from the cruel man who pretended to be England’s rightful king. But if she had to force herself to serve him to earn her son’s release, then so be it.

“You will not gain much if you continue to scowl, Annora,” Merek warned whilst blowing warm air into his hands. Even the leather of their gloves could not prevent the cold from seeping into their bones.

“I do not wish to gain anything from that man except my freedom and that of my son.”

A rumble of discontent came from Merek. “I highly doubt you could be that lucky.”

“What do you suppose he wants from me this time?” she asked gazing up to her most faithful knight. Though she viewed him as a brother, she could see that he was a handsome man with tawny-colored hair much like her own and blue eyes. Merek should be off getting married and raising his children instead of following her into this mess. But she honored the loyalty that kept him by her side, and she trusted his council.

“Most likely to gloat over the fact he controls you. What other reason might a king wish to see you?”

She raised her brow at the implication of his words. “Nothing of that nature, I assure you. If Stephen is nothing else, he remains faithful to his wife, Queen Matilda.”

A grunt left him as they continued forward toward Stephen’s tent. “Then the only advice I can offer you for whatever may happen is to keep calm and control your emotions. ’Twill not do you or your son any good if your temper gets the better of you.”

A sob caught in her throat at the thought of her son, left to the care of others at only seven summers. She swiped at a tear that leaked from the corner of her eye. She supposed if she were home and her husband yet lived, her son might be getting ready to be fostered by one of her husband’s allies. Now, she could only worry over his fate.

She squared back her shoulders as they neared Stephen’s tent. “I will remain… civil,” she said through pursed lips.

A short laugh escaped Merek. “I will enjoy watching you try.”

She turned her gaze toward him. “Why do I put up with you?” she said attempting to keep the humor from her tone.

“Because I remain you most trusted servant, my lady.”

“You are my only servant, Baringar, if I can even call you that these days.”

“Whatever you shall call me, I still serve the de Maris household. Until you release me from the vow I took, then I shall remain at your side,” Merek declared when they reached the tent. He gave her a short bow and she nodded her head. He had more than proved his worth on too many occasions to count. She would not doubt his words now.

She waited for the knight who stood at the opening to the tent to fold back the flap to allow her entrance. When he continued to stand there inspecting her, unmoving, she finally voiced her complaint. “King Stephen is expecting me.”

The man pointed toward Merek. “Aye. His Majesty is expecting you , Lady de Maris. He can wait here.”

Merek stepped forward, no doubt intending to challenge this order, but Annora placed her hand upon his forearm. “I will be fine. Wait here,” she said. He frowned but gave a short nod of understanding and stepped back. The knight at last opened the flap of the tent so Annora could enter.

This was not the first time Annora had been summoned to appear before King Stephen, but the opulence of the king’s living quarters whilst on campaign still sent her head reeling. To say he traveled in luxury was an understatement. ’Twas though he wished to convey his wealth to anyone who had the dubious privilege to be in his presence.

A banner proclaiming his house was a backdrop to the golden chair that acted as his throne. Silken linens hung from the roof to cascade around the room in a colorful display. If Annora did not know better, she would have thought she had entered a sultan’s tent instead of that of England’s king. Golden cups and platters holding all manner of food sat on a table. A bed covered with fur blankets would keep the cold from any man even without the roaring fire that was lit in the center. Grey smoke lifted to the top of the tent where an opening allowed the plumes to escape. All in all, King Stephen lived in the lap of absurdly opulent luxury whilst his people starved in the outside world.

The man himself finally lifted his gaze from a map he was perusing with several of his lieutenants. “That will be all,” King Stephen said whilst the men bowed and began to depart. He had, at least, the look of a king. Stephen was a well-built man with wavy brown hair and eyes. His hair fell to his shoulders and a beard covered his face. A fur mantel adorned his shoulders and Annora could see a purple-colored tunic beneath his cloak when he turned to go and take a seat at his throne.

“Lady de Maris… prompt as always,” the King began as he waved his hand toward her. “Do come forward and pay homage to your king.”

Merek’s words repeated themselves inside her head and she added her own mantra of keep calm, keep calm, keep calm to go with them. The King held out his hand for her and when she stood before him, she dropped down onto one knee, took his hand, and kissed the signet ring on one of his fingers. She let the monarch’s hand go as quickly as she had taken it and waited for permission to rise. Her head bowed, she continued to wait in silence until an amused chuckle finally left his lips.

“You do so keep me entertained, Lady de Maris… even if ’tis just briefly,” the King exclaimed. “You may rise.”

Gaining her feet, she placed her feet slightly apart and clasped her hands behind her as any other knight would have done. She focused her gaze not on the man but a point behind him on the colored tapestry portraying his house and self-appointed station in life. A grim reminder that to Annora, this man was the usurper and not the rightful ruler of England.

“Look at me!” he ordered sharply forcing Annora to turn her green eyes to the man who held her son in captivity. “Even in my own tent you dare to defy me.”

“You asked for an audience with me, and I am here, Your Majesty,” Annora replied in a calm, even tone. “What can I do to appease your anger with me?”

“You can start by wiping the look of your own anger from your visage. Do you think me a fool?” the King asked in his own tense tone.

“Of course not, my liege. I am but your most humble servant,” she answered lowering her eyes so she need not look upon this man who was her enemy.

A snort of disbelief fell from his lips. “Humble? You? I would hardly describe you as humble, Lady Annora. I do not believe you even know the meaning of the word.”

“I serve you as faithfully as any of your other knights. How else am I to earn my son’s freedom?” She clenched her hands together behind her back as she once again leveled her eyes upon the king.

“Your son will be granted his freedom when your service to me is at an end and not before,” King Stephen said whilst a corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk.

“And how soon might that be, Your Highness?” she inquired.

King Stephen shrugged. “With Empress Matilda captured inside Oxford Castle and starving to death, I suppose this siege may not go on much longer.”

A spark of hope filled her heart that mayhap she would soon be allowed to go home. “Perchance you would allow me—”

“But this does not mean you will be allowed to go free. I am certain you can still prove valuable to me. After all, your ability with a sword is just as good as any of my other protectors.”

And then he dashed that spark of hope away as quickly as he had lit it. She narrowed her eyes and clenched her jaw so she did not allow the bitter words to fall from her lips. As Merek told her, no good would come if she did not remain civil to the man who held her and her son’s lives in his hands.

“If that is all then, Your Majesty, may I return to my tent?” she asked hoping he would allow her to leave his stifling presence before her hold on her temper finally snapped.

He stood and came directly before her. Reaching out, he took her chin between his long fingers to tilt her head so she had no choice but to stare directly at her enemy.

“You may hate me, Annora, but you shall continue to serve me as your king for as long as I deem necessary. Your service to my cause will be accomplished to the best of your ability, or you will not like the consequences. Keep your opinions to yourself and do not let me hear again of your complaints you have vocalized in camp. Morale is low enough during these winter months and I do not need you adding to the men’s emotional discontent. Do I make myself clear?”

“Aye, Your Majesty,” she slowly murmured, ruing that she had let her feelings get the better of her the other night when she and Merek had been in the tent to grab their evening meal. Apparently, word of it had traveled back to the King.

“Then I give you permission to leave until the next time you are summoned, Lady de Maris,” he replied letting go of her chin. Another smirk swept across his mouth before he returned to the table where he once again looked over the map laid out before him. She was dismissed.

She left the tent with Merek following behind her. Their silence continued until they could return to her tent, where they would have the privacy they needed to have a conversation between them. But would it be private enough? She was being watched more closely than she had realized. The thought made her cringe in worry. She could only ponder who amongst them had the king’s ear to inform him of her every move.