The Rose and the Shield (Medieval 2)

“And if they want to do more than look?” Constance asked boldly, in the evident belief that her advanced age allowed her to be nosy. “Do you give them that pleasure, too, Captain Olafson?”

Arno gave a snort of laughter, almost as if he were enjoying Rose’s discomfort.

“Sometimes,” Gunnar said quietly, his smile mischievous. “I would have thought you beyond the need for bed sport, lady?”

Constance crowed with laughter. “What were you before you become a soldier of fortune, Captain?” she continued to probe, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

He was taken by surprise—a shadow in his eyes.

“I was a soldier, lady.”

“And did you fight at Hastings? What is it the English call it?”

“Senlac,” he said, his voice grim.

“Aye, Senlac. Did you fight at Senlac, Captain Olafson?”

Rose waited, expecting him to disclaim the words, shrug them off, or retort that there were many men who fought at Hastings. He did none of those things. “Aye, I fought at Senlac. I fought with Harold Godwineson and the English. Now that you have unearthed one of my secrets, lady, be contented.”

Constance smiled, showing many gaps in her teeth. “Oh, I’m content, Captain. For now.”

“You fought with the English at Senlac?” Rose demanded, her voice far louder than she had meant.

A hush fell over the hall. She was aware of the other mercenaries suddenly focusing their full attention upon the conversation.

Gunnar Olafson sighed, and gave her a narrowed look that yet held a hint of humor.

“Aye, I did, lady,” he answered her with a wry reluctance. “I thank you for spreading my fame far and wide.”

Rose blushed vividly, refusing to acknowledge the goggling crowd. “I was surprised,” she replied in a voice as unemotional as his. “I am sorry if you didn’t want it known, though the people here at Somerford will like you for it. They remember the time before the Normans with longing. However, these days, not many men admit to fighting with the English. They are always on King William’s side.”

“Then many men are liars.”

There was something about him, something in his hard honesty that appealed to her on a different level from his physical attractiveness.

Sir Arno laughed in drunken mockery. “They lie because they were on the losing side!” he bellowed. Constance shot him a glance full of dislike, while Brother Mark smirked into his wine.

“Aye, we did lose,” Gunnar Olafson agreed, “but we fought bravely that day, and if we had not been so worn down from the march from Stamford Bridge, we would have won. And I killed many Normans; Fenrir ran red with their blood. He fed well at Senlac.”

Arno’s face was red, too, but with anger. “You forget yourself, Captain,” he spluttered furiously. “Lady Rose lost her brother at Hastings. I myself lost many friends and comrades.”

The rebuff was a just one. The mercenary’s blue gaze shifted to Rose, but she would not look at him. Had he killed her brother with that sword of his? she wondered. And what would Arno think of her if she said that she didn’t care? Her brother had treated her abominably, and when he had died she had been relieved—God forgive her, but it mattered not to her who had killed him.

“Lady!”

So intent upon her own thoughts was she that Rose had not noticed the stir in the room. One of the guards was moving toward her—old Edward, wearing his padded vest and an ancient helmet that looked as if it had done service in King Alfred’s time. “Lady!” He came at a running shuffle, his eyes fixed on her, and in his haste he had forgotten to bow or lower his voice.

Sir Arno tried to rise from his seat, crying, “What is it?” but he was so unsteady that Rose reached out a hand to stop him. His muscles trembled under her fingers and he was breathing heavily. Another moment, she thought in despair, and he would be beyond speech.

“Edward?” she demanded. “What has happened?”

Edward was clearly agitated, his rheumy eyes wild, his gray-whiskered jaw trembling. “The villagers are shouting at the gate, lady! They say they’re being attacked and their houses are burning. Please, lady, give me permission to open the gate and let them in!”

Chapter 5

Shock gripped Rose, but almost immediately she had regained her wits and risen to her feet. “Of course you must open the gate and let them in! At once!”

“And if it is a trick?” That deep, quiet voice was much closer than she had expected.