The Lily and the Sword (Medieval 1)

“Why would I do that, Radulf? My running to Hew would not help my people. They will starve this winter if you do not see to food and shelter for them. I believe you will do that, if I can persuade them to trust you.”

Radulf raised his eyebrows. “You are very sure they will listen to you.”

Lily smiled, her red lips curving very slightly, her eyes downcast. Radulf clenched his hands on his thighs in case he grabbed her and kissed her to silence. A man of his stature, he thought irritably, should have more control.

She lifted her gaze and fixed it on his. “Oh, they will listen, Radulf. They have always listened. It was just that Vorgen would not allow me to speak.”

He let his gaze run over her, slowly following the curve of her breasts, her narrow waist, the flare of her rounded hips. His eyes returned again to her face, the full moist swell of her bottom lip, the dark brows slanting above her pale eyes, the fairy-silver of her hair.

He could not risk losing her.

He shook his head.

“No, lady, I will not take you with me.”

Something sparkled briefly in her eyes, but it was gone too swiftly for him to read. Sorrow? Anger? He could not tell. He did not care. The thought of his beautiful Lily in the harsh north, possibly in danger, possibly kidnapped by her cousin or tempted to run…No, everything in him rebeled.

“Come.” He stood up and held out his hand. “It is time we went to say our goodbyes to the king.”

Lily rose and placed her fingers obediently in his. He drew her to him, enjoying the feel of her body, the taste of her mouth. She softened against him, allowing him his pleasure, and yet…She was distant. It was nothing he could isolate, but she seemed to have removed a part of herself. Because he had refused her what she wanted.

It made him angry. As they rode off, he wanted to spur his black horse into a gallop, but he restrained himself. He was Lord Radulf and therefore above such petty vengeance. If Lily thought she could make him change his mind by sulking—which was what she was doing, more or less—then she was sadly mistaken. Radulf would travel north, but Lily would remain here in York.

Safe.

The king eyed Radulf’s wife appreciatively. “If all the women in the north are like you, lady, I will have no difficulty in fulfilling my command that single men find English wives!”

Radulf smiled without humor. “Lily is unique, sire. It is I who am fortunate.”

Lily flicked him a look, the anger making her eyes darker, stormier. He smiled to himself. Ah, so the frigid distance was in danger of cracking already. Like ice under the warm sun.

“Well, Radulf, you and your men will soon be able to put that to the test,” the king went on, shifting from foot to foot, as if he wanted to be doing something more than standing, talking. “A rider has come from Lord Henry. He arrived an hour since.”

Radulf stilled. “An hour ago? Why wasn’t I told?”

William waved an impatient hand. “An hour matters not, Radulf. Lord Henry sends word that there is an army marching in his direction from the southwest. I think you had best make haste to meet it.”

Lily gasped, the sound distracting Radulf briefly. “Where is this messenger?” he demanded. “I would speak with him.”

The king eyed him fondly. “All in good time, my friend.”

“But…where does this army come from? I have dispersed the rebels, and the English have been quiet ever since. Apart from Hew—” He stopped, his brows coming down in a ferocious scowl.

“Lord Henry feels it may well be this Hew, and that he has found himself well-trained men this time, not just rabble. You will have a proper battle on your hands, Radulf. A contest worthy of the King’s Sword,” William added smugly.

Radulf was more interested in the details. “Where has this army of men come from?” he growled. “There were barely enough of Hew’s supporters left to pour wine at our feast tonight! Are the Danes back? I thought you had paid them to go away. Has the Scottish king sent them? I thought Malcolm was cannier than that.”

King William’s eyes were hard and bright. “No, I fear Hew has found his army closer to home, Radulf. You have an enemy…remember?”

Radulf appeared uncomprehending, and then realization struck. “Kenton?” he breathed. “But surely, William, he would not commit treason to revenge himself upon me? For her?”

He had called the king by name in his shock and amazement, but either William didn’t notice or chose not to.

“And yet, Radulf, it seems he has. My spies were too late to prevent it from happening, but they tell me that Lord Kenton went straight from here to Hew and offered him as many men as he wanted. Kenton’s lands are close enough and the weather is good. It will not take them long to reach their destination.

“He hates you, Radulf. Although we have not yet found Lady Anna’s murderer, Lord Kenton blames you. He wants to see you beaten and humiliated. He might really think he can win the north from you. Perhaps he will try to take your wife, as he believes you took his.”

Radulf’s jaw hardened. “I will stop him.”