Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

A LYX AWOKE TO a tent bright with early morning light, and Raine's skin touching hers was hotter than the night before. Asleep, he moved restlessly, rolling about, ignoring Alyx's presence as he rolled across her, threatening to break her bones. Pushing with all her might, she managed to get him off her and quickly began to don her clothes, which were wet in places, dry in others since they'd lain crumpled in a heap all night. She dearly wished she could put on a dress and give up the pretense of being a boy. Men's clothes and men's ways gave one a great deal of freedom, but if she were a boy she'd have missed a night such as she had had last night.

She had barely fastened her doublet when the tent flap opened and Jocelin, Rosamund behind him, entered.

"How is he?" Joss asked, watching Alyx intently.

Before she could answer, Rosamund interrupted them. "He has a fever and we must bring it down. Fetch some cold water while I get my herbs."

Immediately, Alyx grabbed the buckets and went to the river.

The next three days were torture for Alyx. She and Rosamund worked continuously to bring Raine's fever down. His big body was plastered with poultices and the women had to force noxious concoctions down his throat. This forcing was always accompanied by terrible commands from Alyx in which she called Raine everything from a worthless beggar to an overgrown strutting peacock, making Rosamund giggle and, at times, blush. Alyx sang to him constantly, played the lute often, anything to soothe him, to keep him from thrashing about so.

And while Raine was raging with fever, Jocelin tried to keep command of the outlaw camp, enforcing the daily training Raine had begun, trying to keep the cutthroats from murdering each other.

"I don't believe they're worth it," Joss said, sitting on the floor at the foot of Raine's cot. "Why does he," motioning to the sleeping man to his left, "feel he has to take on their problems?" He accepted a bowl of stew from Rosamund.

"Raine adopts everyone," Rosamund said quietly, her head lowered, as it always was. "He truly believes we are worth saving."

"We?" Alyx questioned as she looked up from Raine. She never left his side, slept sitting on a stool, her head propped on the edge of his cot. "I do not consider myself the same as a murderer."

"And you, Rose?" Jocelin asked. "What crime have you committed?"

Rosamund did not answer, but when Joss turned his head she looked up at him in such a way that Alyx gasped aloud, quickly covering the sound with a little cough. Rosamund was in love with Jocelin. As Alyx looked from one to the other, each with their extraordinary beauty, she saw how suited they were for each other. She knew why Rosamund was in this horrid camp, because people believed she was marked with the devil, but why was Joss here?

Early the next morning, Raine's fever broke. Alyx was sleeping, her head next to his bare arm when she sensed he was different. Looking up at him, she saw his eyes were open, looking about the tent and finally resting on her face.

Immediately, Alyx's heart began to pound and her betraying skin began to blush. How would he react to their having made love?

After a moment he turned away from her, his eyes telling her nothing. "How long have I been ill?"

"Three days," she answered, her voice catching in her throat.

"And you have held order in the camp? Or have they murdered each other?"

"They... they are well. Jocelin has held a sword over their heads and has kept the peace." When he didn't reply, she drew in her breath. Now he would speak of them, their passion.

Instead, he struggled to sit up, and when Alyx started to help him, he pushed her away as if she were of no consequence. Tossing the wool blanket aside, he tore the bandages off his thigh and impersonally inspected the wound on his leg, pushed at it.

"It's healing," she ventured. "Rosamund said the wound was not bad, only the fever. We feared for your life."

Turning to her, he gave her a cold, hard look, and she could almost swear there was anger in his eyes. "Fetch me some food and a lot of it. I need to regain my strength."

Alyx didn't move.

"Damn you!" Raine bellowed, his voice shaking the walls of the tent. The explosion obviously depleted what little strength he had, and for a moment his hand went to his forehead. "Obey me," he said quietly, lying back. "And boy," he added as she reached the tent flap, water buckets in her hands. "Bring me hot wine."

"Boy!" Alyx gasped once she was outside the tent. "Boy!"

"Alyx?" Joss asked. "Was that Raine I just heard?"

Glumly, she nodded.

"Are you all right? What was he shouting about?"

"How should I know what that great ox was bellowing about?" she snapped. "How can a low being like myself know what a friend of the king thinks?"

To her consternation, Jocelin laughed aloud and left her, whistling what Alyx knew was a ribald little song.

"Men!" she cursed, tossing the buckets into the river, hauling up sand and rocks with the water and then having to repeat the process. The second time she paused, tears in her eyes. "Boy," she whispered to the cold, rushing water. Did she mean so little to him that he couldn't even remember their night together?

Perhaps he needed a few hours to remember, she thought as she went back to the tent, stopping to tell Blanche Raine wanted food.

"I should know," Blanche said, her voice sweet, insinuating. "He's already called me to him, and I must say that Raine Montgomery has lost none of his strength," she said loudly for the benefit of the people around her, ostentatiously fastening the top of the dirty shirt she wore. "I've taken him his food."

With her chin up, Alyx entered the tent, her shoulders dragged down by the heavy buckets.

"What took you so long?" Raine asked, his mouth full.

She whirled to face him. "I have more duties than fetching your food," she said angrily. "And it looks like that whore of yours can well provide for you."

"Fair enough," he said evenly, tearing into a leg of pork. "Perhaps we should work on your prudery. A woman is a woman, a fragile, helpless thing, someone to be protected and loved, no matter what her station in life. If you treat a whore like a lady, she'll be one, and a lady can become a whore. It all depends on the man. Remember that. You're a long way from reaching manhood yet, but when you do—"

"When I do I won't need any advice from you," she fairly shouted before turning toward the exit, where she slammed into Jocelin. With one angry glance at him, she pushed past him and left the tent.

Joss glanced at Raine, took a seat on a stool and idly began to strum the lute while Raine silently ate. After a moment, Joss stopped playing.

"How long have you known about Alyx?" Joss asked.

Only a hesitation in his eating showed that Raine had heard. "For a matter of hours, really," he said calmly. "And how long have you known?"

"Always." He laughed at Raine's expression. "I was surprised no one else did. To me she was like a little girl dressed in her brother's clothes. When you called her a boy I couldn't believe you meant it."

"I wish the hell you'd told me," Raine said with feeling, a dimple appearing in his cheek. "A few days ago she was writing a letter for me and I nearly kissed her. I was sick for hours afterward."

"You've worked her harder than anyone else, you know."

"Perhaps I was trying to change her shape," Raine laughed. "I've been fascinated by her legs for some time."

"And now what do you plan to do with her?"

Pushing the tray away, Raine leaned back on the cot, feeling very weak, very weary. "Do you know how much of her story is true? What has Pagnell done to her?"

"Accused her of robbing him, declared her a witch, put a fat reward on her head."

Raine lifted one eyebrow at Joss, feeling foolish that he knew so little about what went on under his nose. "How do you think the filth of this camp would react to a young girl in their midst? One whose capture would bring them a reward?"

A snort from Joss was the only answer.

"I think it's best she stay a boy," Raine said thoughtfully, "and under my protection. The fewer people who know of her true identity the better."

"But you will tell Alyx you know she's a girl, won't you?"

"Ha!" Raine grunted. "Let the baggage suffer as I have. She's flipped that pretty little tail of hers at me at every opportunity, and this morning when I realized how she'd played me for a fool, I could have wrung her neck. No, let her stew awhile. She thinks I don't remember—" He glanced quickly at Joss. "She thinks I don't know she's female, let her stay that way."

Jocelin stood. "You won't be too hard on her, will you? Unless I'm mistaken, I think she believes herself to be in love with you."

Raine's grin was face splitting. "Good. No, I'll not harm her, but I will make her taste a bit of her own medicine."

An hour later, when Alyx returned to the tent, her chin pointed toward the sky, Raine and Jocelin were leisurely playing a game of dice, neither of them seeming to be much interested in the game.

"Alyx," Raine said, not bothering to look up. "Did you practice on the field today? You're scrawny enough without losing the little muscle you have."

"Practice," she gasped, then calmed herself. "For some reason I don't understand now, I was concerned about whether you lived or died and gave no thought to embellishing my puny body."

With an expression of astonishment and hurt, Raine looked up at her. "Alyx, how can you speak to me so? Are you truly angry that I lived? Go away, Joss, I'm too tired to play anymore. Perhaps I'll fetch myself some wine—as soon as I'm strong enough," he added, lying back on the cot with a great show of weariness.

Joss gave a choking cough before slipping the dice into his pocket, rolling his eyes at Raine and leaving the tent.

Alyx tried to remain aloof, but when she saw Raine collapsed on the cot, looking so pale, so helpless, she relented. "I will bring you wine," she sighed, and when she handed it to him his hand was trembling so that she had to put her arm around his shoulders, support him and hold the cup to his lips—those lips that even now made her breath come quick.

"You are tired," Raine said sympathetically. "And how long has it been since you've had a bath? No one in the world can get as dirty as a boy your age. Ah, well," he said, smiling, leaning back. "Someday when you've found the right woman you'll want to please her. Did I ever tell you of the time I was in a tournament outside Paris? There were three women who—"

"No!" she yelled, making him blink innocently at her. "I do not want to hear your dirty stories."

"A squire should have more of an education than just weapons. For instance, when you play the lute, the tunes you choose and the words you sing are more suited for a female. A woman likes a man who is strong, sure of himself, she'd never like a wailing youth who sounds more like a female."

"A wailing—!" she began, thoroughly insulted. She may not be beautiful, but she was sure of her music. "And what do you know of women?" she snarled. "If you know as little of women as music, you are as ignorant as you are—"

"As I am what?" he said with interest, propping himself on one elbow to face her. "As handsome? As strong? As lusty?" he asked, practically leering at her.

"As vain!" she shouted.

"Ah, would that the size of you matched the strength of your voice. Have you ever tried pulling down castle walls by screeching at them? Perhaps you could strike a note and an enemy's army of horses would follow you off into the wilderness."

"Stop it! Stop it!" she screamed. "I hate you, you great, stupid, cowering nobleman!" With that she turned toward the tent flap, but Raine, his voice low, commanding, called her back.

"Fetch Rosamund, would you? I don't feel well at all."

She turned one step toward him but recalled herself and left the tent. Outside many people stood, obviously having heard the argument inside the tent. Trying her best to ignore the people as they laughed and punched each other, Alyx went to the training ground and spent three hard hours practicing with a bow and arrow.

Finally, exhausted, she went to the river, bathed, washed her hair and ate before returning to the tent.

It was dark in the tent, and since no sound came from Raine she assumed he was asleep. Now, she thought, if she had the courage, she'd walk away from this camp and never return. Why did she think that what was special to her was anything at all to this lord of the realm? No doubt he was used to women slipping in and out of his bed and paid little attention to them. What did one more matter? If she revealed herself as his last conquest, would he laugh or perhaps try to establish her as one of his many women? Would she and Blanche take turns entertaining him?

"Alyx?" Raine asked sleepily. "You were gone a long time. Did you eat something?"

"A bucket full," she said nastily, "so I can grow to be the size of your horse."

"Alyx, don't be angry with me. Come and sit by me and sing me a song."

"I know no songs like the ones you like."

"I will manage," he said, and his voice was so tired she relented, taking up the lute and playing quietly, humming with the tune.

"Judith will like you," he murmured.

"Judith? Your brother's beautiful wife? Why should a lady like her bother with a baseborn lawyer's... son?" She'd almost said "daughter."

"She will like your music," he said, his voice heavy with sleep, and Alyx resumed her playing.

When she was sure he was asleep she went to him, knelt by his bed and for a moment watched him, doing little more than assuring herself that he was alive. Finally, she went to her own hard bed and used all her strength to keep from crying.

In the morning Raine insisted on going to the training ground. No protest from Alyx or Jocelin could persuade him to rest for another day. As he walked, Alyx could see the sweat on his forehead, the dull look in his eyes as he forced himself to move.

"If you die, what use will you be to us?" Alyx tossed at him.

"If I die will you go personally and notify my family?" he said in such seriousness that her breath caught. Then a dimple flashed and she knew he was teasing her.

"I will throw your great carcass over a horse and go to meet your perfect family, but I will not kneel with your sisters to mourn you."

"There will be other women besides my sisters to cry at my passing. Did I ever tell you about Judith's maid Joan? I have never met a more enthusiastic woman in my life."

At that Alyx turned away, her back rigid against the sound of Raine's rumbling laugh.

After an hour's training, Alyx ran back to the tent to fetch some of Rosamund's herb drink for Raine, and there she found Blanche sorting through his clothes.

"What do you think you're doing?" Alyx demanded, making Blanche jump guiltily.

"For... for laundry," she said, her eyes darting.

Alyx laughed at that. "Since when do you know what soap is?" With a quick movement she grabbed Blanche's arms. "You'd better tell me the truth. You know what the punishment for stealing is—banishment."

"I should leave here," Blanche whined, trying to twist away from Alyx. "There's nothing here for me anymore. Let me go!"

As Blanche pulled Alyx pushed, and Blanche went sailing across the room, her back hitting a tent pole.

"I'll repay you for this," Blanche sneered. "I'll make you sorry you ever took Lord Raine away from me.

"I?" Alyx asked, trying to keep the pleasure from her voice. "And how have I taken Raine?"

"You know he doesn't take me to his bed anymore," she said, rising. "Now that he has a boy—"

"Careful," Alyx warned. "It seems to me that you should worry about my anger toward you. What were you searching for when I came in?"

Blanche refused to speak.

"Then I guess I'll have to talk to Raine," Alyx said, turning to leave.

"No!" Blanche said, tears in her voice. "I have nowhere else to go. Please don't tell him. I'll not steal. I never have before."

"I have a price for not telling Raine."

"What?" Blanche asked, frightened.

"Tell me about Jocelin."

"Jocelin?" Blanche asked, as if she'd never heard the name before.

Alyx only glared at her. "I will be missed soon, and if I don't have the story by the time someone comes for me, Raine will hear of your stealing."

Immediately, Blanche began the tale. "Jocelin was a jongleur and all the highest-born ladies wanted him, not only for his music but for his..." She hesitated. "The man never grew tired," she said wistfully, making Alyx believe she had firsthand knowledge.

"He went to the Chatworth castle at the command of Lady Alice."

The name Chatworth made Alyx's head come up. Chatworth was the man who held Raine's sister and sister-in-law.

"Lady Alice is an evil woman," Blanche continued, "but her husband, Lord Edmund, was worse. He liked to beat women, watch their struggles as he took them. There was a woman, Constance, and he beat her until she died—or at least he thought she was dead. He gave the body to Joss to dispose of."

"And?" Alyx encouraged. "I haven't much time left."

"The woman was not dead and Joss hid her, nursed her back to health and he fell in love with her."

"Was this unusual for a man of Joss's... talents?"

Blanche suddenly began to look very nervous, her hands pulling on each other, standing on first one foot, then the other. "I don't believe he'd ever loved anyone before. When Lord Edmund found out the girl was still alive, he took her for his own again and threw Jocelin in an oubliette . And the girl... this Constance..."

"Yes?" Alyx said impatiently.

"She thought Joss was as good as dead and so she killed herself."

At that, Alyx crossed herself at such a sin. "But Joss did get out, and he came here," she finished.

"But first he killed Lord Edmund," Blanche said quietly, and with that she pushed past Alyx and ran from the tent.

"Killed a lord," Alyx whispered to no one. No doubt there was a huge reward for his head, and no wonder he wanted nothing to do with the women of the camp. Alyx knew very well what it was to love a man and to lose him.

"What are you doing in here?" Raine asked angrily from behind her. "You have been gone for at least an hour, and here I find you standing alone doing nothing."

"I'll work," she muttered, turning away.

He caught her arm but released her as quickly as he touched her. "Have you had some bad news?"

"None that would interest you," she snapped before leaving the tent.

Alyx's thoughts for the rest of the day were taken up with Jocelin. Joss was a sweet, kind, sensitive man, and he deserved someone to love him. She wished she could have fallen in love with Joss; how much easier everything would be. Someday, probably soon, Raine would leave the forest and go back to his rich family and she would be alone.

As she absently lifted a sword, trying to bring it straight down over her head, her eye caught a movement at the corner of the field. In the shadows, standing still, watching, was Rosamund. Following her glance, Alyx saw that the woman looked only at Jocelin, that in her eyes blazed passion and fire and, as Alyx recognized it, lust. Her head wasn't bowed, and for the first time there was no subservience about her, no apology for having been born.

"Alyx! You slacken!" Raine yelled at her, and with a grimace she put her mind back on her training.

That night, Raine, exhausted, still very weak, went to his cot to rest, while Alyx sat outside in the cold night air and ate a bowl of beans. Beside her sat Jocelin.

"You tore your shirt," she commented. "Someone should sew it for you."

Before Alyx could breathe, three women cheerfully said they'd sew it.

"No," Joss muttered, looking at his bowl. "It does well enough as it is."

"Give one of them your shirt," Alyx said impatiently. "I will fetch one of Raine's to warm you. He has more than enough of them."

Reluctantly, Joss took off his shirt as Alyx hurried to the tent, cast one look at Raine's sleeping form and hurried out again, a shirt over her arm. Outside, she paused. Jocelin sat before the fire, his body bare from the waist up, women all around him, their eyes greedy as they looked at Joss, at his handsomeness, his obvious melancholy, and far to one side stood Rosamund. But Jocelin never looked at any of the women.

At the fire, Alyx handed Joss the shirt and dipped herself a mug of boiling cider, blowing on the liquid to cool it.

Suddenly, a noise just outside the circle of light made everyone's head turn in that direction.

Later, Alyx didn't really remember consciously planning what she did. No one was looking, she was standing next to Jocelin's bare body and holding the hot cider. All she thought of was that if Joss were hurt, he'd have to go to Rosamund, and the next moment she poured half the cider on Joss's arm.

Instantly, she was sorry. Jocelin jumped away from her, the shirt falling from his lap.

"Joss, I..." she began, looking in horror at the skin on his arm turning red.

"Rosamund," someone whispered. "Get Rosamund."

Within seconds Rosamund was there, her cool fingers on Joss's arm, and she was leading him away into the shadows.

Alyx wasn't aware of it, but there were tears in her eyes and her body was trembling from what she'd just done. It had all happened so fast and she'd had no time to think.

A great hand clamped on the back of her neck, paralyzing her.

"You will follow me to the river, and if you do not I will take a whip to your back now," Raine growled in her ear, his voice barely concealing his rage.

Her guilt over what she'd done to Joss was replaced by sheer terror. A whip to her back? Swallowing, she followed Raine into the dark forest. She deserved punishment, for she had no right whatever to hurt her friend.