Rosehaven (Medieval Song 5)

Severin said, even as he began to move his fingers, to regain feeling, to step from one leg to the other, to gain strength, “Do your men know that they will all die if you continue with your madness?”

“My men are loyal to me,” Lord Richard said, but he stared hard at Ibac, who stood at Severin’s right elbow. “T

hey will follow my commands even to hell if need be.”

“It will need be,” Severin said. “I can promise you that.”

Hastings saw the rage rising again in de Luci. Severin was helpless. He could not protect himself. She quickly stepped forward, her fingers lightly touching de Luci’s sleeve.

Unfortunately when he turned to look at her, she didn’t know what to say. She wanted to kill him, but surely it wouldn’t be wise to tell him that. Not again.

“I am thirsty,” she said. “I would like some wine.”

De Luci relented, then called to a plump girl who was standing in the shadows, “Bring the wine. Do not add water to it or I will slit your dirty throat. If you dare to steal a drink, I will also know, for I will smell your breath.”

He turned back to Hastings, catching sight of his daughter, still in Marjorie’s arms. “Why do you comfort the scrap? She is as evil as her mother ever was. She will turn on you in time, Marjorie. I have told you that. Even though she is young, she is evil.”

Hastings thought if Eloise had any evil in her it had to have come from her father. She looked at Severin. She could tell by the darkness of his eyes that he was thinking furiously. But what could any of them do?

Then Hastings knew. She would have to kill de Luci, or die trying, otherwise Severin would be killed. She shook her head even as she thought it. No, she would never let that happen.

When Hastings was sipping the sour wine the servant girl had brought, she watched other servants bring in platters of food for the late afternoon dinner. Men-at-arms came into the great hall, shuffling and silent, none of them looking toward their lord. Ibac moved Severin to a table and let him sit on the long bench. Then, to Hastings’s surprise, he untied his hands so he could feed himself.

She saw the leap of surprise on Severin’s face as well, then the utter joy, quickly masked. She felt calm flow through her.

The roasted wild boar steaks were dry and stiff as Marella’s new saddle, the onions and cabbage were mushy and had no salt. The bread was grainy. Hastings hoped de Luci would choke on it, but he ate with enthusiasm, his entire attention on his trencher.

Severin ate slowly, feeling the food, as bad as it was, give him needed strength. No sooner had he drained his mug than de Luci yelled, “Bind him again. I trust him not.”

He had no chance, for de Luci had pulled a dagger from his belt and held it to Hastings’s breast. At least he had feeling back in his hands. It would take a while for the tight ropes to numb them again.

He couldn’t stop looking at Hastings. De Luci had lowered the knife, but he was looking at the torn material over her breasts. Once he reached toward her, but withdrew his hand when Marjorie said something to him, something about the child. De Luci laughed. Severin wondered about Gwent and his men. He prayed they would survive, that outlaws wouldn’t find them and kill them. Gwent would realize soon enough who it was who had taken them. There was no one else except de Luci. He would reason quickly enough that de Luci must have survived. Then Gwent would know they were here at Sedgewick. If he was able, he would come.

It darkened in the hall. Candles were lit, but the shadows in the corners were thick and black. It became quickly colder after the sun set. Soon de Luci rose and stretched. He said to Marjorie, “You will attend me tonight for a final time.” He yelled down to Severin, “I know you bedded her when you were but a lad. She is still beyond beautiful. I like her to lie on her back, her hair spread all about her white body. Aye, she pleases me, but not as much as Hastings will.” He leaned down to grab Marjorie and kissed her hard on her mouth. Eloise cried out.

De Luci straightened, his fist held out toward his daughter. “Be quiet, you little halfwit. By Saint George’s toes, you offend me. Go to my chamber, Marjorie, and prepare yourself whilst I speak to my future bride.”

He had changed his mind. Hastings kept her face blank, but it was difficult. He was slippery, so very unpredictable. She knew she wouldn’t bathe or change her gown or brush her hair unless forced to.

Marjorie merely nodded. She and Eloise left the hall. De Luci stared about, looking very pleased with himself. “Aye,” he said, belching, “I will enjoy the first woman you bedded, Severin. Would you like to see me take Marjorie? She swore to me that you hadn’t bedded her at Oxborough. Is that true, I wonder? I can’t imagine a man not taking her if she asked for it.

“No matter. Then I will take your wife. She is not as beautiful as Marjorie, but her possessions make her beyond what any man could wish for. I wonder if she will struggle once I begin caressing her. Most women cease struggling quickly. Will Hastings? We will see.

“Then, my fine lord, I will kill you. It will make a fitting ending to the week.”

He didn’t believe her, Hastings thought, staring at him. He believed he could rape her with impunity. He was mad. She said, “I would speak to my husband.”

De Luci laughed. “I think not, my lady.” To Ibac, he said, “Take him back to the dungeon. He has eaten his fill. Hastings sees that I do not torture or starve him. Now I fancy she knows that I will if she does fight me. Aye, Hastings, I will keep him alive to ensure that you cooperate with me.”

Hastings saw Trist slither inside Severin’s tunic as he slowly rose. She had never been so afraid in her life. It was a suffocating fear that numbed her brain. All she could see was Severin, bound, pushed in front of two soldiers from the hall.

She lay on the narrow bed, smelling the dead air, wishing for just a single window, but there wasn’t one. There were no rushes on the stone floor, which relieved her. They would be as foul as the ones in the hall.

Ibac had left her unbound, but the door was locked, and it was the only way out.

She lightly caressed her belly. There was a slight curve now, and she smiled, despite her numbing fear. Their babe was within and he was growing. She desperately wanted him to live, to know both her and his father.

De Luci had forced her to bathe. He’d said, “If I still need relief after I have taken Marjorie, I will come to you, Hastings. I want you prepared for me.” She was wearing a clean night shift, one that de Luci had taken from Marjorie’s trunk. It only came to the top of her thighs. Her hair was nearly dry now, spread about her head.