April Munday (13 page)

She noticed that Richard fought awkwardly, favouring his right leg. He was not yet used to the new balance that he was struggling to find and his crippled leg would not bear his full weight.

Despite his lack of balance, he still found it easy to best her. She wondered, however, how he would fare against a more efficient or stronger opponent. She was so worried about that thought that he caught her off guard and she fell to the floor from the force of his movement.

“I am sorry, Rosamunde,” he said as he bent to help her up. “I did not mean to cause you harm.”

“I am not hurt. I lost concentration for a moment.”

“Rosamunde?” Margaret was standing beside Richard, looking at her with some concern.

“I am unhurt.” Rosamunde spoke more sharply than she had intended.

“Perhaps we should stop,” Richard offered.

Rosamunde considered whether he said that for his own sake rather than hers. Even someone as small and inexperienced as her must cause him some pain. Concluding that it was for hers, she shook her head. “No, if you are content to continue, I wish to as well.”

He released her and put the wooden knife back in her hand and they started again. This time she maintained her concentration and continued to learn.

“You do well,” panted Richard as they came to the end of their agreed time.

She noticed that he had been slowing down for some time and hoped that he had not tired himself too much. She knew that he still did not complete the full training time in the morning because of his leg and she feared that his efforts with her would put too much strain on it. She wanted to ask him, but reasoned that his pride would cause him to say that he was well whether he was in pain or not.

Rosamunde was very tired, but had expected it since she was not used to physical effort like this.

“You will recover soon enough,” Richard promised and once again she wondered at his ability to read her thoughts.

She smiled up at him. “I will take your word for that.” Emboldened by his interest she asked, “And you?”

He frowned.

“Will you recover soon enough?” she elaborated.

He thought for a moment. “It will take a while longer. I am not as fit as I was.”

Grateful for his unexpected honesty, she did not pursue the matter, but as he turned to cross the room and open the door for her, she noticed that his limp was more pronounced than usual. He looked out into the passage before stepping out and looking up and down.

After he had ensured that no one was near, Richard ushered them out of the room. Rosamunde locked the door behind her and they went to the still-room where they were supposed to have been all afternoon.

That night, Rosamunde dreamt again of finding Richard dead, but this time the dream continued as the man who had killed him stepped over his body towards her, bloody sword in his hand and plunged it into her stomach. She awoke with a scream on her lips.

Early the next morning, before it was light, Richard rode out of the castle with an archer to the other side of the river. Guy and Thomas were in the gatehouse to watch them go. Once Richard had decided they were in the right place, the archer pulled out his tinder box   and set light to the rags that were tied around one of his arrows. The archer fired the burning arrow into the air as straight as he could without risking it falling back on them. This was the night time signal that they had agreed with the townspeople. Watchers from the castle had been set by the three roads that led into the town and at the mouth of the river. Depending on whether it was day or night they had agreed on different signals. These men were to alert whoever was on duty in the tower of the church nearest the river. He was to start ringing the bell, which was the signal for everyone to get inside the castle. Richard watched the arrow rise into the dark sky, then turned his eye onto the town. It was some time before there was movement in the town and even longer before the bells started the alarm. Immediately lights appeared at the castle windows as the well-trained garrison sprang into action.

After a few minutes Richard and his escort rode back towards the castle at a leisurely pace, taking the part of Sir Walter’s men. They overtook most of the townspeople on the way and the gates were shut behind them as they entered the castle. Rosamunde came into the bailey to meet them wearing a heavy cloak over her shift, her hair hanging in a heavy plait down her back. She must have come straight from her bed. Richard was captivated by her appearance, until he noticed that she was having the same effect on all the men. He almost stepped in front of her to hide her from their view, but remembered that she was not his to protect in that way.

He was surprised at what he felt. It was a kind of jealousy, as if no one but he should see Rosamunde looking like this. She looked magnificent. Her eyes flared with barely controlled anger. Some of her hair had come loose from her plait and curled around her face. He wondered how the curls would feel between his fingers. She must have had a restless night. He hid a smile as he thought about how it would be to be the man who caused her restless nights. He looked across at Guy. The younger man was much less practised than Richard at hiding his thoughts and Richard knew that he was thinking something similar.

“My lady,” Richard said loudly, “You should not be here. We could have reported to you in the morning.” His words had broken the spell and all the men coughed or shuffled guiltily. He felt a sudden flash of anger.

She gave him her full attention and he realised that she had been avoiding looking at him. He was taken aback as he saw the fear in her eyes. Had she thought the alarm was real? They had discussed practising in the dark, but now that he thought about it he realised that Rosamunde had not been told when it was to be.

“I would rather know at first hand, my lord.” He smiled at that. She was playing his game. To his surprise she did not return his smile, nor did the fear leave her eyes. Something else had scared her, then, and somehow he reminded her of it.

“It was not a great success,” said Guy, unwisely thought Richard, given Rosamunde’s mood.

“I can see that,” snapped Rosamunde and Guy cringed. Richard felt the force of her despair. The siege would be over the day it began if anyone stayed outside for Sir Walter to take hostage. Then Rosamunde would be taken and would be his wife. A few days ago this had seemed dishonourable, but not wholly terrible. Women were given or taken in marriage and what sort of man their husband was was irrelevant. Men married to further their ambition or for money. He dared not think about them marrying for love for he would have to think about Louise. Women married because a man ordained it, whether it be their father, brother, son or abductor, but now he thought how wrong it would be for Rosamunde to be forced to marry anyone who had to stoop to stealing her away. She was a spirited woman who would take some handling, but she should not be forced into marriage with a man for whom no one had any respect. She would not have to love her husband, but she would have to respect him. He should be a man who could win her, not steal her. Her husband should be her equal, or her better, but he was coming to doubt such a man existed. She was the equal of most of the men he had known and the better of the rest. No one deserved her, ‘except you’, whispered a small voice in his head.

“Bring the burgesses,” Rosamunde ordered and Thomas disappeared. Rosamunde finally gave way to her anger when the burgesses were brought to her and it was discovered that, with the exception of William Archer, they had been among the first to enter the castle.

“How dare you!” she raged. “You left your people behind to save your own skins. The gatekeepers will have orders from now on to keep you out until everyone else is inside. You are responsible for these people. You cannot put your own safety before theirs.”

The men began to argue with her. They were not as used as the men in the castle to taking her orders and thought they could browbeat her. Richard and Guy moved to stand behind Rosamunde and Richard noticed the head burgess blanch as Thomas stepped forward to stand at Rosamunde’s side.

“I do not need your help,” Rosamunde hissed and Thomas stepped back quickly, although Richard noticed out of the corner of his eye that he kept his hand near his sword.

Rosamunde took a breath. “You think I am weak, because I am a woman, but you are mistaken. While my father is gone I am in his place. Anything I say, he says, anything I do, he does. I am responsible for these people, as you are responsible for them. If I thought I could avoid all this by giving myself to Sir Walter, I would, but my father has told me to stand against him, so I will obey him, as will you.” She paused, as if waiting for them to say something to the contrary, but they were silent. Richard hoped that he was the only one who could see that she was shaking. Whether from anger or fear he could not tell, but either would rob her of her reason.

“Good,” she said quietly. “We will do this again today and tonight and tomorrow and tomorrow night and you will make sure that everyone else is safe before you enter into this castle. Wait!” The burgesses had made to move off. Rosamunde turned towards Guy. “Fetch all the gatehouse guards.”

Guy left the bailey and returned quickly with six men, who stood attentively, their eyes fixed on Rosamunde. Richard wondered if Guy had told them to show the proper respect, but there had probably been no need. All the soldiers behaved towards her as they would to her father.

“Look closely,” Rosamunde commanded them. “These are the burgesses of the town. When the alarm is given they are to be admitted last.”

To Richard’s surprise the guards walked up to the burgesses and looked at them carefully. They must surely have known who these men were. Then he understood. Guy had told them to obey Rosamunde’s orders to the letter. The burgesses also understood and shifted nervously under their examination. The guards were all armed, although Richard knew that only two of them were on duty at the moment.  Now he did smile at Guy’s prescience and he revised once more his estimation of the young man. He may not be astute, but he understood Lady Rosamunde. Then Richard’s smile faded as he realised that Guy’s apparent understanding might lead him into other thoughts entirely. The duke’s young protégé would bear watching.

Apparently satisfied, all six guards turned back towards Rosamunde.

“Thank you,” she said and Guy led them away.

The burgesses looked towards Rosamunde and Richard was gratified to see fear in their eyes. It was as it should be – they should fear her as they would fear their lord. What a woman she was. Her husband would not need to worry about his estates while he was away with such a woman to stand in his stead. He had long since ceased to wonder at the loyalty she inspired in Guy and Thomas and now he found himself falling under her spell. Rosamunde would not let her husband down and he envied that man, whoever he might be. He looked once more at Guy, wondering if he saw himself in that rôle.

As Rosamunde turned to make her sweeping exit, he caught her eye. Her triumphant expression faded, to be replaced by the fear he had seen earlier. He almost took a step towards her to comfort her before he realised that it would destroy the effect she had so successfully created. Instead he and Thomas followed her and Richard cursed himself for spoiling her dignified exit with his limping gait. He did not have to think hard to understand why she was fearful when she looked at him; it was he who had identified her weakness and now he had shown how vulnerable she was.

When they were inside the castle Rosamunde called to them, “Come with me,” and they followed her to her father’s solar.

“That was well done, my lady,” said Richard before Thomas could get his own praise in. Rosamunde continued to avoid his eyes and he was puzzled. She was usually very open, even to him.

“Are you well, Rosamunde?” Thomas did what Richard had not dared and stepped forward to take her hand.

“It is nothing, the after effects of my illness.”

Thomas must have heard the lie as well as Richard, but he simply nodded and said, “Then you should return to your bed as soon as possible.” Rosamunde’s eyes widened, but she said nothing.

Now he understood. She was not scared because the townspeople had taken so long to get into the castle; Rosamunde was afraid to sleep. Of course. She had had a nightmare before when she was ill and had had one tonight. The failure of the townspeople to get safely to the castle would have added to her worries, but he did not understand why the sight of him had made her more afraid. Richard spoke before Rosamunde had a chance to. “Then perhaps we should finish as quickly as possible.”

Thomas was taken aback, but allowed Richard to take over the analysis of what had happened and what they should do differently tomorrow. “But I think the burgesses will help now,” he added. “They are so scared for their own skins that they will make sure everyone else gets in.”

Now Rosamunde did look at him. “Do you think so?”

Such was the force of her despair that he considered carefully before he answered. “Yes, Rosamunde, I believe that they will do it tomorrow and on the day the siege starts.”

He noticed and hoped that Thomas did not, her slight movement as if to throw herself into his arms as if to hug him. Now she smiled. “Then I can ask for nothing more.”

He bowed, more affected by her simple gratitude than he understood.

“Will you escort me to my chamber?” she asked as he rose and he expected her to be addressing Thomas and his heart plummeted as he realised she was asking him.

“Of course.”

He held out his arm and she took it.

He had not expected her to lean on him, but all her weight was on him and he stumbled slightly as both their weights rested on his crippled leg without warning.

“I am sorry,” she said, as she straightened, “I did not know I was so weary.”

“Put your weight on me, Rosamunde, I can bear it.”

She looked into his eyes and he saw doubt. What had he done to deserve that?

She did not lean on him again, but walked beside him. He thought she was trying to come to a decision, but his own mind was whirling. In some way she had found him wanting and he did not know how. He had shown her how to protect the castle, he had shown her how to protect herself, he had even kept himself away from the women as he had promised. He had supported her in everything she had done and obeyed her. Of course, he did not want her approval; she was a woman and did not deserve anything he had to give, but he was tempted. The duke had made it clear that his life was forfeit. The count had betrayed his trust and he was not about to let the son do the same. The duke had expected a substantial ransom for the count and lost it. The count’s crippled son had little value, especially once it became clear that the count would not ransom him. Deciding that since the count did not value his son’s life he would not either, the duke had sent him back to protect Rosamunde. Rosamunde did not need his protection. There were plenty of other men here prepared to fight and die for her, if she but knew it. The duke had explained that he did not expect to find Richard still living on his return if any harm had come to his daughter. In that way alone would the count’s debt have been paid and Richard was so ashamed that he had had been prepared to pay it.