Rose of rapture Page 14

  "Do not fret yourself, my lady," Caerllywel told her. "Ye didst but speak the truth, as well Waerwic knows. He will get over it soon enough."

  "I wish—I wish I understood why he dislikes me so. 'Tis something more than just our betrothal, methinks. I know he doesn't want to wed me, that 'tis the King who conmiands our marriage; but surely, Warrick must know I desire this match no more than he does. Last night—last night, after he told me of it, I even prayed 'twas but a drunken jest." She paused, then sighed. "I'm sorry. 'Twas unkind of me to tell ye such a thing, but, oh, Caerllywel! 'Tis true! To be forced to marry a man I scarcely know ... Ye cannot understand how the thought appalls me! I hoped I would have a choice in the matter. Now everything is so changed, and there is nothing I can do. Nothing!" she reiterated bitterly. "Oh, surely, the Earl cannot hold me to blame for our betrothal; surely, he cannot! Why, then, does he treat me so? Do ye know, Caerllywel? Will ye tell me?"

  "'Tis—'tis simply Waerwic's way, my lady," Caerllywel responded, turning his face away so she could not see his expression. "He does not mean to be cruel. 'Tis just that he has little liking for any woman. He was not always thus. Once, he laughed as easily and gaily as any other man—and loved too—but the object of his worship was ill chosen. Brangwen, his betrothed, was like the belladonna plant, beautiful but poisonous at her core. In time, all of us came to see it—all except Waerwic, who was blind to her evil, despite our mother's attempts to warn him of it. Even my brothers and I could not reason with him. Brangwen used Waerwic, and when she had done with him, she scorned him and played him false. The wound of her betrayal went deep. I pray ye be patient, my lady, and not judge him too harshly for his ways."

  "I—I shall try."

  "Thank ye, Isabella." Caerllywel smiled soberly. "Ye are a gentle maid. Perhaps, in time, ye may heal Waerwic as ye do the creatures of the woods and moors."

  "Mayhap. After all"—her voice caught in a ragged little sob— "I shall have a lifetime to try. The King has seen to that."

  They rode on in silence, Isabella lost in sorrow and Caerllywel having no further words of comfort to offer.

  Chapter Eleven

  IT WAS NIGHT WHEN THEY REACHED THE OUTLYING keep of Oakengates, which belonged to one of Giles's vassals. Sir John Debolt. But the dark was not sufficient to disguise the fact that all was not well at the castle. By the light of the moon, the small party could see that several of the fields had been burned, leaving great patches of blackened ruin upon the land, and the herds that would normally have ranged upon the sweeping heaths were nowhere to be found.

  Isabella was distraught.

  "What can have happened?" she asked as she stared, horrified, at the ravage that had been wrought. "Twas not thus the last time I visited here with my brother's men."

  "I do not know," Warrick told her, his earlier enmity toward her vanishing now in the face of the destruction that threatened them both. "But we shall soon discover whatever may be wrong, I promise ye."

  To her surprise, he gave her a small, reassuring smile before calling back orders to the men behind who accompanied them. Instantly, all snapped to attention, eyes and ears alert, hands laid warily upon hilts of swords. The entourage would not be taken unaware if there were any who sought to wreak ill upon it.

  At last, the fortress came into view. It was not large, but it was capable of being efficiently defended, and it had served Rushden well in the past. After Caerllywel had shouted their names to the sentries, the party was admitted without difficulty. Once they were inside, Sir John himself came forward to greet them, his warm welcome doing little to hide his dismay at knowing the state in which they had found Oakengates. He assessed Isabella's new warden sharply.

  "I have heard of ye, my lord," their host announced as he ushered them into the great hall and gave orders for food and drink to be brought. "Tis said ye are a hard man—but just— and your sword arm is strong. I trust ye will do well by Rushden and the Lord and Lady."

  "As well as I am able insofar as my office permits," the Earl replied. "I am, after all, the King's agent and must do as he wills."

  "As must we all," Sir John observed smoothly. He turned to Isabella. "And how fares England's prettiest rose? Well, I trust." His keen eyes surveyed her critically, as though searching for' some sign of ill-being.

  "Aye," Isabella answered, avoiding his piercing gaze. "1 am well, sir."

  Sir John was silent for a moment, then nodded, apparently satisfied. Something was troubling the girl, but she had no wish to speak of it; he could tell and so did not pry. Instead, he continued, changing the subject.

  "And your brother, Lord Rushden—he does well under the tutelage of Gloucester?"

  "Aye, sir. He has won his pennon and is one of the Duke's personal attendants. He loves Richard well."

  "'Tis good. Come," he said brusquely, the amenities out of the way. "No doubt your day has been long and tiring. Ye must refresh yourselves, for doubtless, ye will wish to view the estate tomorrow; and as I'm sure ye must have noticed, all is not well at Oakengates."

  Sir John sounded tired, as though he had battled a foe who had yet to be beaten, and he was now at his wit's end to discover some means of prevailing over his enemy.

  "Aye, we saw. There has been trouble here, Sir John," Isabella stated, coming straight to the point. "Though 'twas dark when we arrived, the moon didst show us the destruction that has been wrought. What has happened, sir?"

  "Reivers, my lady." Sir John's voice was grim. "The attacks

  began shortly after Lx)rd Oadby's death. I had hoped to settle the matter before ye could learn of it, but so far, I have not been successful."

  "Your reticence was unwise, Sir John," Isabella chided gently. " Tis my business to know what is amiss here. If ye needed help, why did ye not send to Rushden for it?"

  "I did, my lady, but Sir Lindael informed me ye had enough problems as 'twas, and as 'twas likely ye would insist on riding to Oakengates, he did not wish ye to learn of the difficulty here. He sent what men he could spare, but none knows the identity of the outlaws, my lady, and Sir Lindael feared for your safety. Though 'tis probably unlikely, the men may be disguised knights of some lord, who plans to carry ye off and gain your riches through a forced marriage and who has set upon this scheme to lure ye from Rushden."

  "Nay, surely not. 'Twould be a poor plan at best, its means haphazard and its outcome uncertain. Besides, if such were the case, we would doubtless have been set upon on the road. Me-thinks that Sir Lindael has taken a great deal upon himself lately in order to shield me," Isabella noted. "I can see I shall have to speak to him."

  "Do not be too harsh with him, my lady, I pray ye"—Sir John spoke with the liberty of an old and valued retainer. "Indeed, I am as much to blame as Sir Lindael, for once he told me of his fears, I agreed wholeheartedly to keep the matter from ye: for ye know, my lady, that ye would have come, regardless of the consequences to yourself."

  "And despite your attempts to keep me at home, I am here anyway. Oh, Sir John, not ye too! However am I to guard Giles's inheritance if his men are determined to keep me in ignorance of Rushden's affairs at every turn in order to protect me from any evil that might befall me?"

  "Lord Hawkhurst will see to the estate, my lady. 'Tis his duty, and I hope ye will not be playing any of your tricks upon him." Sir John eyed her sternly.

  "Ye are quite correct, sir," Warrick remarked, giving Isabella an unfathomable glance. "Do go on with your tale. Ye say ye have yet to capture the robbers?"

  "Aye, they are many and clever, and I am starting to suspect there is a traitor in my household. I have laid many traps for those who plunder the lands, yet still, they manage to outwit me at every turn, escaping into the forests, where the hiding places are many."

  "Ye have questioned everyone here, of course," the Earl said.

  "Aye, but without result. Naturally, all claim to be innocent of aiding the accursed thieves, and none here, to my knowledge, has behaved in a sly and unnatural manner. In additi
on, I find it difficult to believe any of my men are involved in the matter. Those who serve me have been with me many years and have long since proven themselves trustworthy and faithful retainers. 'Tis indeed a most exasperating puzzle to me."

  "If your men are as ye say, I think we can discount them"— Warrick spoke thoughtfully—"and must look elsewhere for the answer."

  "A rebellious tenant perhaps," Caerllywel suggested. "Has aught occurred that one might hold some grudge against ye?"

  "Nay, I do not believe so. Did not ye yourselves see evidence today of how well all at Rushden and its outlying lands are treated? Our ways may seem strange to ye, but they are good ways nevertheless—despite what Lord Oadby used to say." Sir John sniffed, as though offended.

  "Aye, the crofters did indeed seem well and content," Warrick, admitted, marking the vassal's dislike of Rushden's previous warden. Isabella was not the only one who had loathed the man, it appeared. "Nevertheless, if all is as ye said, the reivers cannot be working alone. Someone, not a villein of the fields, but a servant inside the castle walls, must be abetting them. In the morning, we shall set about to discover who 'tis."

  Oddly enough, Isabella had no doubt at all that her new warden would accomplish this task. Though she did not like him, he seemed a man of purpose; and Sir John, whose opinion the girl trusted and who had not cared for Lord Oadby, did not appear to find any fault with Warrick. Indeed, the vassal's attitude toward the Earl was one of deference and respect.

  Isabella sighed and handed her wine chalice to a servant so he might refill it. She was so deep in thought, she scarcely noticed the bitterness upon the boy's face, and later, when she tried to recall it, the impression was fleeting, and she decided she must have imagined it after all.

  Chapter Twelve

  THE NEXT MORNING, IT WAS DECIDED THE PARTY would split into three groups, with Caerllywel staying behind at the keep to interrogate the servants, Warrick setting forth with Sir John to question the crofters, and Isabella going with the bailiff of Oakengates to survey the damage that had been done. The girl was oddly pleased that Warrick apparently now trusted her knowledge of the lands enough to allow her to continue her responsibilities as mistress of Rushden (though she had meant to do so in any case). Because of this, her spirits were brighter than they might otherwise have been, for it could only mean that Warrick did not intend to wrest her power from her grasp by upsetting the manner in which Rushden was run. She might be forced to become the Earl's wife, but at least Giles's inheritance would be safe.

  Isabella had to curb the strong impulse she felt to sing softly as they rode along, as it would have hardly have been seemly in the face of the destruction that Sir John and his castle had suffered.

  Now that the day had dawned, she was able to view the full extent of the ruin clearly, and the girl was appalled. Oakengates had been extremely hard hit by the reivers. Major portions of its just-beginning-to-ripen crops had been burned; its herds of cattle,

  sheep, and goats had been reduced to a mere few beasts. At once, Isabella saw the fortress would not glean enough from its harvest to pay the revenues due Rushden, much less to survive the winter. Swiftly, she determined that she would levy no fees on the keep this year. Then mentally, she began adding up the contents that, with the coming autumn, would fill her own storehouses, trying to figure out how much might safely be spared for Oakengates. The girl sighed, her heart going out to Sir John and his villeins, for they would have to work doubly hard next year to repair the damage that had been done and to bring the castle up to date on the revenues that would then be owing. She hoped fervently that Warrick and Caerllywel succeeded in discovering the identity of the culprit responsible for aiding the outlaws.

  The traitor will have to be hanged, Isabella thought, then shuddered, not knowing if she would be able to uphold such an order, though she knew the penalty would be justified and necessary to prevent such from happening again.

  At last, the inspection was complete^, and the windswept moors stretched out before her in a wild sweep of rolling green, broken here and there by winding jumbles of pale rock and crevices through which babbling rivulets sometimes coursed. In the woods, quiet pools lay clear and blue beneath the spring sky, their cool waters disturbed only by the trailing branches of the trees. Far to the east would be the jagged cliffs and sandy beaches that lined the coast and .then the sea that Isabella knew of only from tales sung by the castle bard and told by Giles and Lionel and others who had journeyed to places far beyond the shores of England.

  "Do ye wish to return to Oakengates now, my lady?" Sir Beowulf inquired, interrupting the girl's reverie.

  "Nay, let us ride on a little longer," Isabella said.

  She had missed galloping freely over the heaths, and surely, there was no threat of her being kidnapped as long as she was well escorted. Besides, the thought of returning to Oakengates— to Warrick—was unwelcome to her. She needed time to think about the betrothal that had so changed her life. Despite the Earl's comments on the matter. Isabella was certain there must be some means of securing her release from the match, and she intended to find a way to free herself. She had already written to Giles and Lionel to inform them of the new warden's identity, although she had said nothing of the betrothal, wanting to tell them herself of the match; and she dared not involve Sir Lindael or any of the other knights in the matter until Giles could advise her what to

  do. Sirs Eadric, Thegn. and Beowulf especially might take it into their heads to murder Warrick, thinking they were doing the girl a favor. Isabella must remain silent until her brother arrived. Perhaps Giles and Lionel would speak to Gloucester.... Aye, the Duke had been kind. He might be persuaded to plead her case before his brother the King, particularly in favor of Lionel, whom Richard loved dearly.

  Lost in thought, her spirits lifting a little, the girl rode on, forgetting the thieves that lurked at hand, until Sir Thegn asked if she considered it wise to stray so far from the fortress with robbers skulking about. Even then, Isabella discounted them, her voice slightly scornful.

  "Why, 'tis broad daylight, Thegn, and we are well armed. Surely, those who plunder the lands have not grown so bold as to attack a party such as ours by the full light of day. Nay, they strike at night, like the cowards they are."

  "Very well, my lady, but at least let me ride back and warn Lord Hawkhurst of your intent," Sir Eadric put in.

  "As ye wish." Isabella shrugged. "However, I do not think he will be much alarmed."

  But she was wrong. Warrick, when Sir Eadric gave him the news, swore mightily under his breath, then began shouting orders to his men.

  "Damn her!" he cursed in between commands. "Has she run mad—to even think of such a thing in light of what has happened here? Sir Eadric, I shall hold ye and Sirs Thegn and Beowulf responsible if aught ill has occurred to the Lady Isabella. How could ye have agreed to let her go beyond sight of the castle walls?"

  "We—we did try to dissuade her, my lord, but she has been so confined of late, and she is such a—a fey creature, my lord. She pines for the fields and the forests as others hunger for food and thirst for drink. We did our best, my lord, but we could not reason with her, and—and 'twas not as though she were alone."

  "If she would not listen, ye ought to have forcibly returned her to the keep! She is scarcely more than a child—and an ill-behaved one at that!"

  "My lord!" Sir Eadric gasped, horrified at the thought of laying rough hands on his mistress. "Surely—surely, ye cannot mean what ye just said."

  "I most certainly do. Your mistress is a brat. ... Oh, ye mean about using force to restrain her. Nay, I spoke in haste. Ye are in no position to lay hands upon her.... But /am."

  The Earl's eyes narrowed at the thought. Not only was he Isabella's warden, but, thanks to the King, her betrothed as well. Warrick had every right to touch her and in whatever manner he pleased.

  "I am sore tempted to give her a sound thrashing!"

  "Oh, my lord, 1 pray ye: Do not be too cruel
with the Lady. She is, as ye said, little more than a child, and—and, except for Lord Oadby, she has been used with kindness by the men in her life. 'Twas not her father's way to handle his women with his fists. The Lady is not accustomed to being struck—"

  "Then 'tis high time someone did deal her a few sharp slaps— several of them, in fact! Mayhap then she will learn her place! I am master here now."

  "Oh, nay, my lord! She will not understand if ye beat her. Please, my lord, I beg ye—"

  "/ am no fool to be bewitched by the charms of a pretty maid, however fey she may be!" the Earl snapped, then set his heels to his destrier's sides and was gone.

  Isabella, her ears attuned to every sigh upon the wind, every rustle of the brush, was the first to hear the shrill cry of pain in the distance. Abruptly, she reined in her mare to listen for the sound again. Aye, there 'twas!

  Some animal is hurt, she thought and, without warning, urged her horse to a gallop, leaving Warrick's and Sir John's men, who did not understand her sudden, wild flight, staring after her in confusion.

  Only Sirs Thegn and Beowulf, who, out of long familiarity, guessed the cause of her unexpected start, were able to gather their wits quickly enough to follow, and even they lagged behind, for Isabella's steed was small and fleet, better able to traverse the rocky, gorse-strewn moors than were the ponderous destriers the men were mounted on.

  "My lady! My lady!" Sir Thegn called futilely as he saw they could not possibly keep pace with Isabella. "My lady, come back!"

  "'Tis no use. We'll never catch her," Sir Beowulf observed with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as the image of Lord Hawkhurst's cold hard face suddenly filled his mind. "God's wounds! The Earl will have our heads! Did ye see where she went?"

  "Nay, did ye?"

  "Aye. Ride back to the others. Tell them to spread out and to

  listen sharp for the cry of a wounded beast. That is where the Lady will be. I shall go on, since I saw the place where she entered the forest."