Montague - The Warlord Part 20

"Helen has been extremely cooperative of late," Fitz Alan ventured, bolstering his courage. The subject he intended to broach would likely earn him a black eye or sore jaw. No one yet had had the nerve to mention Lady Tess's name in the baron's presence. He foolishly decided to be the first. "She tells me your wife has things running so smoothly that there is little for her to do."

"Helen is gulling you again," Kenric said between bites. "The duties she a.s.sumed should keep her busy all day."

"Well, perhaps I exaggerated a bit," he admitted. "The fact is, Helen was hoping she would be allowed to visit Lady Tess. The request seemed reasonable and I told her I would ask your permission."

"Nay."

"None in the fortress have laid eyes on the lady for nearly a week." Fitz Alan knew he was wading in dangerous waters but continued anyway. "Only Miriam has seen Lady Tess, and her reports have Helen worried. According to Miriam, she eats barely enough to keep herself sustained and she hasn't spoken a word to anyone since she's been in there."

" 'Tis not Helen's place to concern herself with my wife. Tess is feeling sorry for herself. She will eat when she is hungry enough."

"She is-"

"I will not discuss this subject further."

Fitz Alan scowled, abandoning the conversation. It was a pointless one. Kenric wasn't ready to listen to reason. He might not ever be. Whatever Lady Tess had done, the damage was serious and it went beyond a harebrained attempt to escape. Fitz Alan made a mental note to have Miriam report the baroness's condition to him each day. He would take matters into his own hands if her condition seemed to worsen. If Kenric refused to act sensibly, he would do it for him. Someday he might even be thanked, a.s.suming he lived long enough for such praise.

Kenric was determined to ignore Fitz Alan's warning. If Tess was suffering, she deserved every minute of it. Starving herself was probably a deliberate ploy, knowing he would eventually learn of her "pitiful" state. He hoped the gossip reached her intact. He wanted her to know that he'd been told of her fast and remained unmoved. She would likely eat like a horse the moment she knew her trick wouldn't work.

Tess had been in his thoughts constantly the past week, even though he'd tried to banish her from his mind as completely as he'd banished her from his life. He knew other men who kept unwanted wives in virtual imprisonment. But Tess wasn't like any other wife. She was a gift from his king, and Edward had made it clear that he wanted a male heir for Remmington by the time they were called to court. Tess had shown no signs that she would follow his orders so easily. That forced Kenric to reconsider his relations.h.i.+p with his wife, although in the end his decision differed little from what he planned the day he sent her to the solar. To keep his bargain with the king, he would be forced to visit her occasionally until she conceived. The visits would continue if she failed to produce a boy.

The prospect of bedding his wife wrenched at his guts. There would always be the worry that he would weaken again and perform his duty as something more than just that. Already he wondered if he could manage it. Tess deserved nothing more than his contempt. He tried to console himself with the hope that she might have conceived the last time they were together. It would be a fitting reward for the h.e.l.l she was putting him through.

That was his thought as he climbed the tower steps and entered his bedchamber that night. It was the time of day he dreaded most, knowing the long days he put in on the practice field were never long enough for a restful night. Nothing of Tess remained, yet the memories of her lingered everywhere, especially here. Images of her haunted him with the deceitfulness of soft smiles and innocent looks, memories he had no control over. He would glance at the table and recall the way she used to rest her chin in her hands while she listened to his stories, her eyes s.h.i.+ning with what he'd thought was admiration as he recounted some of his more n.o.ble deeds. Other times it was an image as simple as the way she'd turned and smiled at him while brus.h.i.+ng her hair. She was in his bed, at his bath, drying her hair before the fire, pus.h.i.+ng open the shutters in the morning sunlight, her every curve outlined through a near transparent chemise.

Yet the memories were beginning to fade. Each day they cluttered his thoughts less often. In a few more weeks they would be gone entirely. By then he'd know if he would be forced to visit his wife and stir them all to life again. Settling into his empty bed for the night, he tried to fill his head with plans for the next day, of every exercise that would hone his skills for the battles that lay ahead, hoping tomorrow they would be exhausting enough to let him sleep undisturbed. Yet every night he awoke at least once, reaching for Tess in his sleep. Her punishment had become his own.

Kenric's suffering would have surprised Tess greatly. She was sure he'd simply resumed his life as if she'd never been in it. He probably wore that foolish grin of his all day, happy at last to be free of her. Foolish, endearing grin. She missed him more than she'd known possible, the loss settling into a dull ache in her chest.

The nights were not so bad, for then she could dream of him. In her dreams he held her close again, whispered softly in her ear, kept her safe from the world until the cold light of reality peeked through the windows. Seven days after being banished to the solar, it was not only the sunlight that woke her, but a vague sense of unease. Despite the sameness of her solitary day, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Or about to be. It was a sense of dread that kept her brow furrowed as she bent over Helen's tapestry, a task she'd been forced to through sheer, desperate boredom. The oppressive feel of a coming storm filled the air, despite the sunny day.

The tapestry was nearing completion and Tess wondered already what would fill her days after that. Perhaps Miriam would be allowed to bring her supplies for another. Unless her guards wanted a madwoman on their hands, they would surely allow that much.

It was only mid-morning, yet she couldn't seem to contain the yawns as she pressed her needle endlessly into the tapestry. One yawn caused her to drop a st.i.tch when her attention wandered for a moment and she gave the needle an irritated tug, accidentally p.r.i.c.king her finger. She stared down at the bright drop of blood, knowing it was only a pinp.r.i.c.k, watching in horror as it flowed into a river, over her hand, across her lap, flooding the floor around her in a bright sea of red. She squeezed her eyes shut, terrified by the sight of what she knew could not be. The vision began the second her eyes closed. It lasted only a few minutes, but they seemed the longest of her life. When she opened her eyes again, she was screaming.

Tess's two guards rushed into the room, both with drawn swords. They startled her back to reality, dragging her senses away from the awful vision. Thinking quickly, she pointed to a section of the mullioned window that she'd propped open earlier that day.

"A-a man dropped down from the battlements and entered through the window!" She turned toward the garderobe. "He fled in there when I screamed!"

The guards moved cautiously toward the garderobe, too intent on their prey to notice the baroness edging her way behind their backs toward the door. She was on the tower steps before they even opened the garderobe door and found the small chamber empty.

Tess raced down the tower steps, through the small door to the gardens and down the path that led to the lower bailey, as if reaching the training grounds were a matter of life or death. From the shouts behind her, Tess knew her guards were gaining on her. The vision had shown her exactly where to find Kenric. She just didn't know if she could reach him in time.

20.

The baron's mood was dangerous. Another restless night was not the only reason he wore a scowl. The conversation he'd overheard between one of his soldiers and a serving wench in the gardens was the cause. He'd taken a shortcut to the training grounds that morning and was pa.s.sing the long line of tall arbors that separated the path from the herb plots when a voice from the other side made him pause.

"Do you think he will release her soon?" Kenric gave the bushes an odd look, for it certainly sounded as if they'd spoken. A moment later he realized there was a couple trysting on the other side.

"Aye," the soldier answered. "I have been with the baron many years. He is a hard man, but a fair one. He will free her when his temper cools."

" 'Tis said they had a fierce argument," the wench confided. "Jane believes the baroness tried to run away because she feared her husband's anger. I would not want to be anywhere near the baron when he is in a rage."

Kenric could almost picture the girl's shudder. He was about to leave the couple to their gossip but was stopped by her next revelation.

"Everyone in the castle has continued the duties she a.s.signed them. The steward says it is the only way we can show the baroness our loyalty. When she is allowed to return, Lady Tess will realize that we did not turn against her as the baron has."

"We are doing much the same," the soldier admitted. "Though 'tis no great task to sc.r.a.pe our boots and eat like civilized men. I think most of my comrades are enjoying the novelty of behaving as mere mortals."

Kenric eyed the bushes and contemplated the direction of the soldier's voice. Revealing himself at this point would be humiliating so he settled for another form of revenge. He poked his sword through the brambly growth, and was rewarded with a startled yowl. Having had his fill of eavesdropping for the day, he stalked away, grinding his teeth over his newfound knowledge. By the time he reached the training grounds, the fury that had simmered all week was back at a rolling boil.

The soldiers avoided the baron, recognizing a foul mood when they saw it. Robbed of sparring partners, Kenric went to work on a row of tall posts that had been driven into the ground. He used his long battle sword to hack away at the posts, swinging the weapon high overhead to strike one side then the other until the wood splintered apart. The gossip ate at him like an acid. None within the fortress knew the true treachery behind his wife's attempt to escape. Everyone thought they'd had a lover's quarrel and he was simply sulking over her means of retaliation. No wonder Simon could not look him in the eye without the trace of a defiant glare. They were all on her side. He wasn't about to make a fool of himself with the truth. Let them think her abused. Let them think him cruel beyond reason. What else should they expect from the Butcher?

"Milord?"

Kenric spun on one heel, startling Fitz Alan with the reflexive move that brought the tip of his sword to rest against Fitz Alan's neck. Fitz Alan took a prudent step backward.

"You know better than to walk up behind me. What do you want?"

"The joust," Fitz Alan reminded, aware that Kenric's thoughts were elsewhere. "The Italian is eager to test his mettle and you did agree to ride against him today."

"Tell Roberto his wish is granted." Kenric picked up the linen s.h.i.+rt he'd discarded earlier and wiped his brow before tossing the garment aside again. He stalked off toward his warhorse, muttering under his breath, "Best he prepare for a sore backside."

The joust was an unusual event for Kenric's men while they were in training. Such a knightly skill was unnecessary for the siege of Remmington and their days were spent practicing with the weapons of war. Yet the young knight from Italy was new to Kenric's army and anxious to prove himself against such a legend. Some of the men tried to dissuade Roberto from his foolish determination, though most waited patiently for the arrogant young knight to be put in his place.

Kenric took the reins of his warhorse from Thomas and led the animal to the end of the practice field. It didn't take long to prepare for the match. Blunted ends were placed over the tips of the deadly lances, which eliminated the need for heavy armor. The blunting allowed knights to practice the joust without serious injury. s.h.i.+elds were the only protection necessary to deflect the blows, though everyone knew Kenric wouldn't use a s.h.i.+eld with blunted lances. He preferred the punishment of the jolt to remind him of a rare mistake. He also knew his lack of armor intimidated his opponent.

The two contestants were just taking their positions on opposite ends of the practice grounds when a commotion arose near the gates that led to the gardens. At first Kenric thought his eyes deceived him. Tess could not be running toward him as if her skirts were afire, the expression on her face one of sheer terror. He believed it when he saw first one soldier then another tear through the gates in pursuit. The one in the lead finally overtook his prey, grabbing her arm and yanking Tess backward, nearly pulling them both off their feet in an effort to stop her. Kenric had the ridiculous urge to run the man into the ground for daring to touch her. It didn't matter. He was a dead man already for allowing her to escape in the first place, as was the second man who'd come to a stop a few paces away, his hands resting on his knees to catch his breath.

Tess was indeed several pounds thinner than the last time he saw her, almost gaunt. Kenric was amazed when she summoned enough strength from her frail body to break free again and continue the flight toward her husband, as if she expected to find safety there. He dismounted, crossed his arms, and waited. She skidded to a halt before him, about to speak when the soldier caught up to her.

The soldier grabbed the long end of her braid and gave her a vicious jerk backward, trying to avoid being clawed again by her nails. He never saw the blow from his overlord coming.

Kenric's grip on Tess's arm was painful, but less so than the soldier's grip had been on her hair. Noticing at last that he was naked from the waist up, she bowed her head and remained silent as he issued a curt order and the fallen man was dragged away. She was thankful for a few moments to catch the breath that had been robbed by her flight. The rest of his men backed away to a respectful distance, though every pair of eyes watched them.

"Thank G.o.d, I'm in time," she panted, still winded by her run.

Kenric grabbed her arms and gave her one hard shake, then lowered his head to within inches of her face. "You have just condemned your two guards to death. Tell me, Tess. Was your brief bid for freedom worth the price?"

"Nay, milord! I was not fleeing. My guards were tricked, for I could not take the time to explain the danger. There was not time."

"What danger?"

"You are in danger." She nodded toward the other end of the field, toward Kenric's opponent. "He means to kill you."

"Roberto?" He'd expected a tale, but this one was fanciful, indeed. "You think the Italian intends murder?"

"I was working on a tapestry and closed my eyes for just a moment, but I saw everything in my vision. The blunting on his lance will break away when it strikes your shoulder and the poison used on the tip is potent enough to kill anyone within a day. I know this sounds-"

"I've heard enough." His gaze found Simon and he motioned him forward with a jerk of his head.

"You do not believe me," she stated flatly.

"I believe you made a very stupid attempt to escape the solar and cooked up this story when it was obvious you were going to be caught. I believe you came to me when you were cut off from whatever escape route you'd planned this time, thinking I would be fool enough to believe your lies. That is what I believe, Tess."

"You must be right, milord." She bowed her head and stared at the ground. "I am sorry that I disturbed you."

Sorry that she disturbed him? He couldn't believe how easily she dismissed two deaths. She was colder than he'd suspected. Watching her twist her braid, he realized the trait did not necessarily manifest itself each time she perverted the truth and made note to remember that fact. But she was lying now. She wasn't the least bit sorry. He resisted the urge to slap the mouth that lied so blatantly, knowing he'd probably snap her neck.

"Milord?" Simon drew to a halt at the baron's side.

"Take her back to the solar. I will deal with her later."

Kenric turned and walked away without a backward glance. Simon held one arm forward, indicating that Tess should proceed him from the grounds. He didn't haul her away or even take her arm to escort her. With a field full of men and her husband's wrath to prod her, no one would think that she would do anything but return quietly to the solar to avoid further trouble.

Tess waited until Kenric was a good distance away then turned and started walking slowly toward the gates, glancing once over her shoulder to judge Simon's distance. She breathed a sigh of relief, realizing he was several yards away. It was all the head start she needed. Her hands fisted in her skirts and she lifted them past her knees, bolting toward the Italian. She wondered if she could reach the end of the field and s.n.a.t.c.h away the a.s.sa.s.sin's lance before anyone knew her intent. Men began shouting and she heard Simon's angry bellow, but she kept running, knowing they would never catch her in time.

So caught up in her determination to reach the end of the field, she wasn't immediately aware of the implications when Roberto lowered his lance and crouched down to position himself for the attack. Only when the Italian spurred his horse forward did she realize what was about to happen.

Tess skidded to a halt, confronting her peril head on as the great warhorse tore up the turf between them. The deceptively blunted lance lowered to eye level and her blood froze at the sight of the man's ghastly smile. She heard Kenric shouting her name but couldn't move. She stood as still and silent as a cornered rabbit, too terrified to take a step in any direction.

There was no longer a doubt in Kenric's mind about the truth of Tess's story. He tossed aside his useless sword as he rushed forward. There was no doubt in anyone's mind about the fact that he would never reach her in time. Even Simon was too far away. Watching the mounted warrior bear down on the small, defenseless figure, Kenric was certain his heart was being ripped from his chest. He shouted at Tess to run but she wouldn't or couldn't move. She was going to die before his eyes and he was powerless to prevent her murder!

The arrow appeared from nowhere.

One moment the Italian was smiling, the next, an arrow shaft protruded grotesquely from his left eye. The sight so shocked Tess that she was shaken from her stupor. She turned to run toward Kenric and safety. Roberto toppled backward and the lance fell uselessly to the ground. But the warhorse hesitated only slightly before galloping on. To a horse trained for war as well as tourneys, anything running on foot was an enemy and he changed direction to pursue Tess, intent on trampling anything in his path. Another rapid volley of arrows struck the animal's head and neck, slowing but not stopping his charge.

Tess ran past Simon toward Kenric, sure she could feel the animal breathing on her neck. A nudge on her back propelled her forward, right into Kenric's outstretched arms. He lifted her effortlessly and kept running.

Tess heard the agonized, inhuman scream just as the ma.s.sive bulk of the horse flew by them. Simon had somehow grabbed the reins and brought the horse's head down, sending the animal's body careening over its broken neck. Kenric didn't dare stop until he knew they were out of the animal's path. He finally slowed to a walk then dropped to his knees when he was certain they were safe. His arms were wrapped around Tess so tightly that they squeezed out what breath she had left. Loosening his grip, he cupped her face then slid his hand lower across her throat until the palm rested against her chest, needing the rea.s.surance of the frantic heartbeat he found there.

"You are not hurt?"

Kenric knew his voice betrayed his lingering fear. He'd never been so terrified in his life. Another moment and she would have been dead. He couldn't even begin to fathom the fact that she'd just risked her life to save his. It defied logic. Kenric wouldn't allow himself to consider the possibilities. Not now, anyway. He would wait for a quiet moment alone to torment himself with such musings. Right now there was a traitor in Montague and his possible accomplices to deal with. Just as soon as he felt able to walk again. G.o.d, he'd almost lost her!

"I'm just a bit winded." Her voice was soft yet uncertain when she questioned him. "You believe me now?"

Kenric glared down at her, unreasonably angry that she'd risked her life so foolishly to prove her point. Then he realized he'd be dead if she hadn't done just that. He settled on a disgruntled frown.

"Aye." That simple answer opened a whole new kettle of fish, but he didn't want to deal with the startling accuracy of his wife's vision right now. "You are certain you were not harmed?"

"I am fine," she a.s.sured him with a smile. Kenric was amazed by her composure, her ability to smile so soon after her brush with death. It occurred to him that he would never know how her mind worked. "It is over now?"

"Aye, but I will have the head of the archer who denied me the pleasure of killing that traitor myself." Kenric frowned again. "Nay, I will give the man who saved your life whatever reward he names."

"I believe I will go check the Italian's injuries," Fitz Alan said mildly. He was standing just behind Kenric with a longbow still clutched in one hand. "At least until you decide if I am to lose my head or be showered with gold." He smiled then at Tess. "You will let me know the outcome, Lady Tess? I should like to make myself scarce if the decision is not in my favor."

Tess tried to contain a startled giggle but Kenric's scowl remained fierce. He rose on unsteady legs with Tess held securely in his arms and walked toward Simon. The old soldier was still lying on the ground, others standing nearby with drawn swords, all clearly appalled by their lady's close call. Simon lifted one hand when he saw Kenric approach but it fell limply to the ground, his arm hanging at an odd angle.

"I just wanted a short rest, milord." Simon's voice was teasing, but pained. "That d.a.m.ned horse jarred my shoulder."

Tess immediately began squirming in Kenric's arms. "I can ease his pain, if you will let me."

He hesitated a moment before setting her on the ground. Tess welcomed the distraction of examining the injured man. It took her mind off the crowd gathering around them and the group of soldiers farther up the field, surrounding Roberto. A short time later she knew the cause of Simon's pain; a dislocated shoulder. The agony Simon must endure to right such an injury was necessary, hopefully accomplished before the man could figure out what was going to happen. Kenric barely had Simon propped up when Tess moved in from behind and applied the required pressure. She frowned over Simon's sudden howl but knew he would feel immediate relief. She was busy instructing Simon on his recovery when Fitz Alan returned to Kenric's side.

"He is alive," Fitz Alan murmured. "Though I cannot say for how long."

"I can." Kenric was ready to kill with his bare hands. But he was torn between the need to give the traitor his due punishment and reluctance to leave Tess. His arm tightened around her shoulders, pulling her closer to his side. He needed her there to help calm the raw fury still coursing through his blood.

"I will stay with Lady Tess," Fitz Alan volunteered. Kenric nodded and began to loosen his grip on her shoulders.

"Nay. I would go with you," Tess stated calmly. "I have seen wounds of all sorts, milord. Do not worry that the sight will disturb me. I know where the arrow struck."

Kenric's expression remained grim, but he put his arm around her waist and led her toward the group of soldiers who were cl.u.s.tered around the fallen Italian. The men parted instantly to allow them near Roberto then closed in again to form a tight circle.

The sight was indeed gruesome. Tess took several deep breaths, determined not to seem squeamish in front of Kenric's men. She tried to eye the Italian dispa.s.sionately, to view him as any other wounded man. He wouldn't live. In his agony, Roberto had ripped the arrow from his face, leaving a grisly, gaping wound. The man would slowly bleed to death. Tess was amazed that Roberto was still conscious. His good eye was glazed with pain but he looked around the gathering with alert wariness.

"Get his lance," Kenric ordered. Thomas ran to do his bidding, returning with the weapon. Kenric took the lance and rested the long, blunted end on Roberto's neck. He waited a moment then lowered the tip to the ground just above Roberto's shoulder, suddenly thrusting the lance forward. The razor-sharp blade emerged from the dirt, the blunting shattered to reveal its false end. "Who are your accomplices and where are they? Name them swiftly, or defy me and die slowly, in a way that is guaranteed to take your mind off your present injury."

Roberto closed his good eye and remained silent. Kenric started forward then stopped abruptly. He motioned to Fitz Alan. "Take her someplace where she cannot see or hear this."

"I understand your need to hurt him," Tess whispered, so the injured man would not hear. "But he will not last the day. Let me try reason once more before you try torture."

It would be hours before Roberto died of his injury or by the means Kenric would use to extract the information he wanted. Kenric ordered his men to pin Roberto to the ground then allowed Tess to kneel down beside the man.

"I have seen a wound like this before," she told him in a sympathetic voice. "Nothing can be done to save you, but your death will not come swiftly. My husband will have long hours, perhaps as much as a day or more to punish you for your treachery. He spent many years in the Holy Lands where he learned from the infidels how to inflict great pain without killing his victim." Tess didn't know if this was true or not, but thought it sounded wicked enough to be believable. "The tortures you will endure are hard for a gentle lady to imagine, but you must know what Baron Montague is capable of doing to his enemy."

Roberto's eye was open again and Tess could see his growing fear. She drew her dagger so fast that none of Kenric's men had a chance to object, though she heard their startled gasps. None but Tess would dare deny Baron Montague his prisoner. The small, jeweled dagger that she'd been allowed for use with her meals now rested against the Italian's neck. She tried to push away the memory of another man at her mercy in just such a fas.h.i.+on.

"Tell my husband what he wants to know and I will kill you myself. One swift cut and you will be spared the torture."

There was nothing to gain by remaining silent, but much to suffer. Having no loyalties to anyone but himself, Roberto wisely chose to divulge his plan. His voice was a hoa.r.s.e whisper as he revealed his secrets, the pain and his growing weakness evident.

Just as suspected, MacLeith was behind the Italian's plot. The knight was a mercenary, approached by MacLeith almost two months ago in the Scottish king's court where Roberto was employed to rid that ruler of a troublesome in-law. MacLeith knew his stepdaughter was at Montague and wed to Kenric, the information coming from Montague's own bailiff. MacLeith feared Kenric's army. Without their leader, he felt certain Kenric's men would not attack Remmington. Roberto was to kill the baron then escape from the fortress by his own means. The bailiff had fresh horses and men waiting along the road to Scotland, where they would meet up again with MacLeith for final payment.

" 'Tis the... whole... of it, lady." Roberto struggled to get the words past the swelling in his throat.

"Why didn't you try to kill me first?" Tess asked, puzzled that Kenric was the intended target.

"Remmington belongs to the baron... by your marriage. You were to die only for spite if... I could not kill your... husband." Roberto took several deep breaths then his voice rallied and became stronger. "Keep your promise, demoiselle. Kill me... now, lady."