The Warrior

“I have no mercy for traitors.”

“I beseech you—”

“Cease your entreaties, lady!” he roared. “I will not be swayed!”

Flinching from his violent fury, Ariane bowed her head. “I humbly beg your forgiveness, my lord.”

A muscle in Ranulf’s jaw worked at her transparent attempt to manipulate him and assuage his anger. God’s teeth, but she seemed determined to push him to the limit. Even now she refused to back down.

“Will . . . will you not permit me to sue for their lives at least?”

He had been about to give her another blistering rebuke, but his gaze arrested. This was her first sign of weakening. He would be a fool not to pursue it, Ranulf realized. He wanted, needed, her cooperation to achieve his goals. Hitherto Ariane had responded with defiance and scorn at any suggestion that she aid him in assuming control of the demesne, deeming him a usurper and trickster. If he could win her support, though, however reluctant, the people of Claredon would accept him more readily as overlord, would confer him their loyalty that much sooner. “What do you offer in exchange?”

“I . . . I have naught to give you,” Ariane replied. “You claimed anything that was mine when you seized Claredon.”

“There is your oath.” She gazed at him with faint confusion. “Will you swear for Henry?” Ranulf demanded. “Will you accept me as your liege?”

“You know I cannot. My allegiance is to my father.”

He cursed under his breath at her continued stubbornness. “Under the circumstances, you have no reason to consider yourself bound to your father.”

“Perhaps . . . but I will not forsake him.”

“You would forfeit the lives of your vassals?”

An ache rose to her throat, and she could barely force her denial past the constriction there. “No. What do you want of me?”

“I would have your sacred vow, demoiselle. You will swear to keep faith with me, to submit to my rule without question.”

“You will not harm your prisoners if I yield to you?”

Ranulf stared down at her beautiful, upturned face, into the luminous eyes swimming with tears, and something within him softened, like wax against a flame. He had to admire her courage. She had not pleaded for herself—now or at any time since he had taken her hostage—but only for her father’s men.

“I will not allow them to go unpunished, demoiselle. Not only did they dare challenge my authority, but they cost a good man, and mayhap another. But I will agree to spare their lives.”

Ariane searched Ranulf’s harsh features, realizing she would gain no other concessions, not when he was so enraged by the senseless carnage. It would be unwise to press him further. Indeed, she knew what her lady mother would advise: a willow that bent with the wind would outlast the storm, though a mighty oak snapped. For now she would have to bend, would have to bide her time. There was no shame in striking such a bargain in order to prevent more deaths.

“Very well,” Ariane said quietly. “I make you a solemn vow to submit to your wishes.”

Ranulf shook his head. She looked so guileless, her eyes wide and full of repentance. Yet he could not allow her to escape with total impunity. She had given him nothing but betrayal. And she had caused the death, at least indirectly, of a half dozen men and nearly killed his squire, a brave lad who had shown only loyalty and devotion. “Not so quickly, demoiselle. I will not allow you to escape retribution so easily. There are conditions.”

“Conditions, my lord?”

“You will address your villeins and vassals, proclaiming me lord of Claredon. You will offer your homage to me in a public forum, clearly accepting me as your liege.”

“But . . . women cannot pay homage.”

“It will be a symbolic gesture, merely that. I will have your people observe your submission, so they will follow me more willingly.”

“I shall do as you wish.”

“That is not all. You will serve me henceforth. My squire was wounded as a result of your actions, so you will assume his duties. You will attend me as my body servant, perform every function I required of him, until such time as he is fit to resume his responsibilities.”

Ariane nodded slowly. Doubtless it was Ranulf’s intent to display her submissiveness by forcing her to play his servant in public, yet it was not too high a price to pay, not if he would spare the lives of her people.

“There is still more. I demand your unquestioning obedience. You will leap to fulfill my every wish, carry out my smallest command.”

Ariane felt her fingers curl involuntarily, yet she dared not show the slightest sign of rebellion. She nodded.