The Lily and the Sword (Medieval 1)

Perhaps it was finally time to take it out, look at it, and then put it away forever.

Radulf transferred his fingers to his eyes, pressing at the ache behind them. His head throbbed and he did not want to go out in the chill night. He would much prefer to spend the evening in Lily’s bedchamber. Her body welcomed him even if she did not, but one day, he vowed, he would slide under the shield of her cool gray gaze, and make her his captive.

He was already her captive, or near enough, though she didn’t know it. He wanted her more now than he had in the beginning. God help him if she ever found out. The great Radulf, her slave! How she would despise him…

“My lord?” It was Jervois, his voice a respectful murmur. “The time approaches.”

Radulf looked up. Jervois was in his confidence. His captain knew him as well as Lord Henry, maybe better, for they had spent more time together. They had fought together, seen each other’s weaknesses and strengths. He had trusted Jervois with his life on more than one occasion.

“Where is my wife?”

Jervois showed no surprise at the sharpness of the question. “She is in her chamber with the servant girl. Do you wish me to bring her to you?”

“And the other…Alice. Where is she?”

“She has gone, my lord. She left with her servant a while ago.”

Jervois had seen only Alice’s back as she slipped through the door. Her veil had been wrapped modestly about her head and throat, her head had been bowed. He had called out a farewell to her, and then shaken his head impatiently when she didn’t answer.

Had her heart, too, beat a little faster when their eyes met?

But what was the point in such thoughts? He was a mercenary, to be bought and paid for. Alice of Rennoc would not consider such a man seriously. Women had always seemed like another country entirely to Jervois, and one he was far from certain he wished to explore. Now he had seen one that he liked, but she was not for him.

“I would I did not have to leave,” Radulf began in a low, weary voice, “but I have no choice but to see an end to this matter once and for all. You will remain here to guard my lady.”

That brought Jervois’s head up with a jerk. “But my lord, you do not mean to go alone!”

“I do not fear a trick, but no, I will not go alone. I will take four of the men and they can wait for me nearby. Make your choice and tell them to be ready.”

Jervois hovered uneasily. “You have many enemies, lord.”

Radulf’s eyes were full of grim humor. “That may well be so, Jervois, but I am immortal, am I not?”

Jervois refused to smile. “Others may believe the legends, but I know you are but a man, my lord, and a man can be killed. What would become of your lady wife then? The king would marry her to another, perhaps one not so inclined to cosset her as you do.”

Radulf hesitated, and then nodded, clapping a hand on Jervois’s shoulder. “Aye, you are ri

ght as always, my careful friend. I will take heed.” He turned toward Lily’s bedchamber, taking a couple of steps toward the door before stopping. No. It was better he say nothing to Lily. She had an uncanny knack of reading his moods and he did not want to answer her questions now. He would see her when he returned. Perhaps he would even explain to her what he had done.

Or perhaps not.

With a deep breath, Radulf turned away from the bedchamber and toward the inn door.

Chapter 14

Seated upon Alice’s docile gelding with her cloak wrapped tightly about her, Lily could have been any York housewife making her way home after staying too late at the house of a friend or relative. Or she might be taken for a foolish young maiden keeping a secret assignation. The last was not far from the truth, except that it was not her assignation.

It had been much easier than she thought. Alice’s clothing fit her well enough, although Una had had to lower the hem, which left a narrow band of a deeper color. But the men didn’t notice that; they rarely looked at a woman’s feet. Jervois had called a farewell, but Lily had ignored him. Radulf had not spoken at all, and although she had been sure she felt two burning holes in her back where his eyes were fixed, everything had gone to plan.

A splatter of rain rattled upon the road and a droplet splashed against her cheek. The servant, his tangled beard and long hair proclaiming his non-Norman origins, ran before her, perfectly comfortable in his role as guide. He had listened with eyes averted as Lily told him where he was to take her. “I know it, lady,” he had assured her.

Lily had smiled her thanks and felt a stab of pity for the man. There was an ugly brand on his cheek, which had puckered the skin and scarred him badly. Such cruel marks were the Normans’ way of accounting for their property.

If Radulf should discover her, she would not allow him to punish this poor man. This excursion was her idea and hers alone. Not that she expected to be caught. All she had to do was wait for Radulf, watch his meeting with Lady Anna, and then…Well, then she would most probably go back to the inn and sob herself to sleep. But at least she would know.

She shivered suddenly in the damp air. The warm day had stirred up a storm that brought early darkness. It still hung about the city, rumbling bad-temperedly, with the occasional flash of lightning. She might regain her bed tonight soaked to the skin, but at least the bad weather ensured the streets were empty…and safe. Lily and her servant met not a single soul as they traversed York.

Several times tonight, Lily had asked herself why she was doing this. Why was she putting herself, and possibly others, in danger of Radulf’s retribution? The answer was simple and always the same: she had to know. Whatever the cost.