“You may remain thus for a while, my lord. It should give you a taste of humility.” Then he laughed. “No, I won’t kill you, at least not yet. You have your uses, my lord. Marjorie told me that Hastings was a bitch. I told Marjorie I would have you ready at hand to torture if Hastings did not perform as I bade her.”
He reined in beside Hastings. He was still laughing.
“You are pathetic,” she said, staring between Marella’s ears.
He was silent in an instant. He said very slowly, with utter calm, “What did you say to me?”
“I said,” she repeated, turning now to face him, “that you are pathetic. You keep your distance, have one of your men strike him down, you tie him to his horse, and now you laugh because he is helpless. I doubt you would ever want to face Severin by yourself. He would kill you very quickly, for you are naught but a puking coward.”
De Luci’s face was suffused with rage, then slowly, very slowly, even as his eyes became utterly black, his face paled to white. “Oh yes, Marjorie said you were a bitch,” he said slowly. “I told her that I could control you. It was just a matter of knowing what to do and the exact moment to do it.” He raised his hand and slapped her hard across her cheek, nearly knocking her off Marella. Trist mewled loudly, barely hanging on.
He saw it in her eyes and yelled at his man, “Ibac, hold her!”
She was lurching out of her saddle, ready to throw herself on de Luci, when a huge hand grabbed her arm and pulled her back. She moaned with the pain of it, then shut her mouth, furious with herself that she had made a sound. She was panting hard. “I will get you, you miserable whoreson.”
He didn’t hit her again. She saw from the corner of her eye that he was stroking his short beard with his gloved hand.
The rest of de Luci’s men were silent. Finally, the man Ibac said low to Hastings, “You would have thrown yourself upon him had I not stopped you. You have no weapon, you are naught but a woman. Lord Richard is a man of violent and unpredictable actions. He could smile at you one moment and stick a knife in your ribs in the next. He is as calm as a monk, then strikes out like a wild man. I do not understand you.”
Hastings smiled at the man Ibac. “I see that you speak in a near whisper. You fear this madman?”
“I did not say he was mad,” Ibac said, his tongue flicking over his dry mouth. “Nay, never mad. It is simply not wise to anger him. Take care, lady.”
De Luci called a halt just as twilight was darkening to night. The men moved quickly about their tasks.
“Untie him,” Hastings said, as she moved to stand beside Severin.
De Luci nodded. “He is sly. Do not let him out of your sight. It matters not that he is bound. Tie him to the tree yon and two of you remain close to watch him.”
Severin thought his stomach would heave out his guts. He stood very still for a moment, regaining his balance and a calm belly. He drew in deep breaths.
“You are all right, my lord?”
He couldn’t yet speak. He merely nodded.
Trist jumped from her shoulder to Severin’s. He eased himself down into Severin’s tunic.
It was dark, the only light coming from the fire, when one of the men handed Hastings a piece of roasted rabbit. Hastings thanked him and offered it to Severin.
“Nay,” he said. “You carry my babe. Feed him.”
“I will feed the father first. Open your mouth.”
After she’d fed him his fill, she simply looked at the man Ibac and then at the flaming pieces of rabbit still roasting over the fire.
She fed Trist, who looked distinctly unhappy, then ate two pieces, each burned black, each tasting delicious. “I’m sorry, Trist. I know you do not care for rabbit, but it is not such a bad taste, is it?”
The marten was cleaning his face. He merely looked at her a moment and went back to his bath. Hastings couldn’t help it. She laughed. “He is insulted,” she said to Severin. “Insulted.”
Severin laughed as well. He didn’t know there could possibly be any laughter anywhere in his body, but there was. De Luci looked over at them, frowning. He opened his mouth, then closed it. He resumed eating and speaking to several of his men, one of them Ibac.
Hastings told Severin what the man had said to her. He didn’t seem to hear her, just stared at her a moment, then said in a low, utterly enraged voice, “How dare you, Hastings. By Saint Peter’s staff, you could have killed yourself, he could have struck you—”
“I didn’t think,” she said, splaying her hands in front of her. “He is mad, at least he is uncontrolled, and surely that must play to our advantage.”
He looked at her oddly, wishing he could touch her, wishing he could pull her against him and press her face against his heart. He swallowed, looking away. De Luci could not allow him to live. He must think of something, and yet here was Hastings, speaking of their advantage. “You are right,” he said quietly. “We must determine how to exploit this weakness of his.”
“I will control myself,” she said with such utter conviction that once again Severin laughed.
De Luci yelled, “Get her away from the whoreson. Bring her to me.”
Hastings slowly rose when one of the men came to her. “It is all right, Severin. I will control myself and I will learn what he is planning.”
But she didn’t learn a thing. He gave her a cup of ale and she was thirsty. She didn’t think, just drank from the cup. In moments, she sagged to the ground.
She didn’t know that Severin, drinking from the same cup before her, was also unconscious, Trist patting his face, staying close to warm him.
Hastings awoke to see Eloise staring down at her, her thin face as blank as a death mask, her eyes opaque and dull.
“You didn’t die.”
“No, I did not. We are at Sedgewick, Eloise?”
“Aye, my father brought you and Lord Severin here. My father was worried when you did not wake up. Lord Severin yelled and screamed, but it did no good. My father merely cuffed him with his sword. But now you are awake. I will call Marjorie.”
“Eloise?”
The child turned slowly, as if she didn’t want to.
“Your father is planning to kill Lord Severin and—”
“Ah, Hastings, you are awake and already trying to talk someone over to your side. Eloise, my sweeting, fetch a cup of milk from the kitchen. It will clean out Hastings’s insides. Your father doesn’t want her to die just yet.”
“Marjorie, how pleasant to see you.”
“Be quiet, Hastings.” Marjorie said nothing more until Eloise was gone from the small bedchamber. “Listen to me. I did not realize what Richard planned. I merely wanted you gone so that I could have Severin. But Richard wants Oxborough and the only way he can gain all that wealth is to wed you.”
Hastings marveled at her. “That makes no sense, Marjorie. You knew that de Luci wanted Oxborough. The only way he could have it was to kill Severin. You would have realized that if you had but used that brain of yours that must lie beneath that beautiful hair.”
Marjorie was silent for a very long time. Finally, she nodded, saying, “Aye, I suppose I did know it, but you see, he promised me, Hastings. He promised he wouldn’t kill Severin. He promised he would give Severin to me and a lot of gold so that we could live in France.”
“But Severin would still be the lord of Oxborough.”
“Not if—”
“De Luci will kill him. I care not about myself. If you can, save Severin. Take him to France. Take him anywhere, just save him.”
Marjorie gave her a twisted smile. “You are weak, Hastings, begging me to save Severin. I doubt he would beg me to save you. Have you not seen that men are greedy creatures? They think only of themselves, only how to make themselves more important. But Severin, I had believed he was different. Aye, he wanted all your father’s possessions, but only because he wanted to save his father’s devastated lands and keep and take care of that miserable mad mother of his.
“But now
I see that he has changed. He has grown accustomed to the power that wedding you brought him. He will become as greedy and selfish as the rest of them.”
“He is not selfish and you know it, Marjorie. Now, why did you not tell de Luci that I carried Severin’s child?”
Marjorie shrugged. “I started to, then changed my mind. It is something he doesn’t know. Perhaps I will find a way to make use of it. I don’t have much of anything, but that is something. I know you will not tell him.”
“Stop this blindness, Marjorie. Just stop it. De Luci intends to kill Severin. If he doesn’t, then he will have no chance of ever gaining anything.”
“Do not be too certain of that,” Marjorie said. “There are other ways.”
Hastings started to demand what she meant when Ibac suddenly appeared in the doorway. “The child fetched me. My lord told me the moment Lady Hastings recovered she was to come to the great hall.” He gave Hastings a worried look. “Can you walk? Shall I carry you?”
Hastings shook her head and slowly, very slowly, rose, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She was dizzy, but it was passing. She felt weak and wondered how long she had been unconscious. Eloise appeared in the doorway, a goblet in her hand.
Marjorie took the goblet and gave it to Hastings. “It will give you strength. Drink it.”
“More poison, Marjorie?”
Ibac sucked in his breath, staring at the beautiful silver-haired woman with consternation. Like every other man-at-arms, he’d looked at her as he would look at a statue of the Virgin Mary, with reverent awe. What was this about poison? No, surely the Lady Hastings was wrong.
Marjorie said nothing, merely smiled as Hastings drank from the goblet. It was goat’s milk, sweet and strong. She felt strength flowing back into her body. Trist, who had been lying beside her, now jumped onto her shoulder.
Ibac stayed close, his hand up, ready to steady her, but Hastings wasn’t going to collapse. No, she was thinking furiously. Severin had to be all right. She had to think of a way to save him.
The great hall of Sedgewick had blackened beams, greasy, scarred trestle tables, benches that were so filthy she didn’t want to sit on one. The rushes smelled stale. The vague odor of urine hung in the air. A half dozen wolfhounds lay in the matted rushes near the huge fireplace. How long had Richard de Luci been here? More than a week, she guessed, for everything to be so filthy and neglected. Sir Alan would have never allowed that.
In the lord’s chair sat Richard de Luci.
She called out, “Where is Sir Alan?”
De Luci merely smiled at her. “In the dungeon with your husband and his men that were here at Sedgewick. A pity he didn’t die of the sweating sickness, but he survived intact. He hasn’t enjoyed my dungeon. Come here now, Hastings, and let me look at you.”
She didn’t want to get near him, but Ibac’s hand was nudging against her back and she was forced forward.
“You look like a witch. You smell like the wolfhounds.”
She looked around with contempt, then turned back and said, “If I were forced to remain here with you and Marjorie in charge, I should smell as vile as this great hall within a week. Be thankful I will be gone long before that happens.”
Richard de Luci leapt from his chair and strode to her, his fist raised. “You damnable bitch!”
He was shaking he was so furious. Ibac sucked in his breath and stepped in front of her. “She is still weak and ill, my lord. She will become more submissive as she regains her wits.”
Hastings believed that de Luci would kill Ibac, but at the last moment, he pulled back his fist.
“Bring Lord Severin. I would tell him what is going to happen.”
Marjorie was standing silently, staring at Richard de Luci. Eloise was, Hastings saw, hiding beneath one of the trestle tables. Had her father abused her again?
“I have been wondering,” de Luci said slowly, looking at Hastings’s breasts, “if I should rape you in front of Severin. Think you that he would even bother looking if he had Marjorie in his arms at the same time?”
31
HASTINGS DIDN’T PAUSE, THOUGH THE PAIN THAT IMAGE brought lanced through her. She said without hesitation and with perfect honesty, “I do not know. But know this, de Luci, if you touch me, I will kill you.” She heard Ibac moan behind her. She had no time to move. De Luci was on her in a moment. He backhanded her, knocking her onto the filthy rushes. He raised his foot to kick her, then leaned down and grabbed her arm, jerking her upright again.
“You will not speak to me like that again, my lady.” He grabbed the front of her gown and jerked it outward. The soft wool parted easily. He grunted at the sight of her shift beneath, grabbed it, and ripped it.
“I had not believed you would be so well endowed,” he said, staring at her. He reached out his hand to cup her breast. “Marjorie told me you were nothing compared to her. How odd that she would lie to me. I will have to speak to her about that. Women are meant to obey.”
“Don’t touch me.”
“If you move, I will strip you naked right here in front of all my men.”
She felt his fingers lightly touch her breast.
Severin yowled louder than Edgar the wolfhound. “Take your hand off her or I’ll kill you!”
Richard de Luci turned, smiling. “Ah, you have brought him. Now that we are all together, and my poor Marjorie has seen that her beloved prefers his wife to her charms, mayhap she will not be too distressed when she learns that you are to die.”
Marjorie quivered, Hastings saw it. Mayhap Marjorie could save Severin. She’d spoken of those other things, whatever that meant. De Luci turned his attention to Severin. Slowly, Hastings raised her hand to pull the rent material over her breasts. She wanted no more of Richard de Luci’s attention until she was ready. He turned to walk back to his chair. He paused a moment, seeing Eloise cowering beneath a trestle table. He said very softly, “Come out, Eloise, or it will go badly for you.”
The child slithered from beneath the table.
“Stand up.”
Eloise managed to lock her knees and stood.
“You look like your miserable mother, your face all pale and gaunt, your hair thin and ugly. I would have gotten Hastings if your mother had not taken so long to die.” Quick rage deadened his eyes. He calmly raised his hand and slapped Eloise so hard that she was hurled a good six feet, only to land against one of the wolfhounds.
“No!” Marjorie was at the child’s side in an instant, touching her, clutching her to her breasts, stroking her hair.
Hastings said, “I wonder which man or woman will kill you. We will have to wager to see who will win the honor of sending you to hell.”
“All you can speak about is violence? You believe you or your husband over there can kill me? You bore me with all these threats—all the same. I know they are empty. When I take you, you will see how helpless you are.” De Luci sank down into his lord’s chair. “I am hungry. It is time for the evening meal.”
Hastings realized that his violence against Eloise had temporarily relieved him of his rage. He terrified her. “I want you bathed and perfumed for me. Marjorie has told me that you have all sorts of herbs and perfumes. You will set about to please me, Hastings, or I will kill this whoreson husband of yours without another moment passing.”
“I will please you,” Hastings said, and now, for the first time, she looked at her husband. Severin was standing between two of Lord Richard’s men, his hands bound behind him. He was dirty, his clothes ripped, but they hadn’t beaten him. She continued to stare at him, praying he would not respond to her words. Severin said nothing. He kept his eyes on Richard de Luci, not on her.
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.