"Go find me something to eat."
"My lord, there is nothing fitting for you," she cried.
"Anything will do, I care not what. The broken meats and bread."
As he sent her off, he noticed that she was young and not ugly. That would complete his needs. All women were alike, and if Pembroke's daughter was a snake like her father, there would be others. When the maid returned carrying a platter heaped with meat and bread, he told her roughly to wait and set to with real appetite. A good fight, a good meal, a good tumble, and a good sleep—a good day.
Radnor pushed the empty platter away and drew the girl to him. Under his hands, her body was rigid with revulsion. That was nothing new to him and usually did not affect him, but this time he was astonished to find that his body would not obey his desire. He looked around at the men in the hall. This was not the place for it anyway; if the girl cried out he would have an audience. Dragging her with him, he returned to the tower room in which he had slept. Beaufort was still asleep and so heavily that Radnor thought nothing would wake him.
"Be silent," he said to the trembling girl. "Whatever I do, be silent. If you cry out and wake my man, I will cut your tongue out." He drew her down on to the pallet with him, undid her bodice, pulled up her skirt, and lay for a while fondling her breasts and hips. Her skin was young and smooth and pleasant even though her whole body protested against his caress silently, the back arched and the limbs rigid. What had been an idle thought before, now was an insistent desire. He would have her! But still his body would not obey and, in spite of his inflamed mind, he was cold as ice. Radnor shoved the girl away. Was he doomed to be capable only with the daughter of his worst enemy?
"Wait!"
Dim as it was, Radnor could read the terror in the maid's stance, could sense the revulsion she felt in the way she clutched the open bodice across her breasts. He knew what he was and what he looked like in her eyes and wondered abstractly if even her fear could keep her still if he touched her again. He made no attempt to try the experiment, reaching for a purse he had dropped by the side of the bed.
"Take this." A couple of coins clinked into her free hand. "Go. Get out," he snarled at her, and she fled to the safety of the kitchens.
No sooner was Radnor alone, however, when Leah's image rose into his mind. To this his body responded with such promptness that he cursed aloud, and with such fluency and vehemence, that Sir Harry woke with a start.
"What is it, my lord?"
"Nothing," Radnor replied, "go back to sleep."
Chapter 10
In the misty dawn of another hot day, Lord Radnor levered himself to a sitting position. Beaufort was gone and, free of the restraint of his presence, Radnor groaned aloud at the thought of the duties of the coming days. Stiff and sore as he was, the Welsh camp had to be broken up immediately, the plunder divided and distributed, and a plan of action against those who had escaped roughly formulated. The prisoners would have to be tortured for the names of the tribes involved and siding with the rebellion so that his father would know where to strike next.
At least Owen could see to the torturing of the prisoners, and, with the addition of all Radnor's men except his personal guard, would have a large enough force to protect this area until Gaunt and the vassals arrived. Nonetheless there was enough for Cain himself to do, some of it very unpleasant. He began to dress, wincing as he moved at first and wincing again as he pulled on his left boot. The pain in his body was almost welcome for it occupied his thoughts, at least for a little while. Then there was breakfast to busy himself with, then the council with Owen.
At last there was no more good reason for delay, and Cain sat down to write his letters. One went to Leah, ordering her to remain in her father's keep. The letter began very sternly, but her sweet face hung before him with tears trembling on the lashes of her wide, innocent eyes. "Be sure," he had written, "to do as I bid you," and now he added, "for I hope to be with you before the wedding guests depart. My labors here have so prospered," Cain continued after careful consideration, "that it is more needful for me to hasten to speak with the king than to quell the Welsh."
He had said what he had to say, and if Leah was in league with Pembroke, those last words would be a pretty trap for them both. The letter, however, lay open and unsealed while Cain wrote to Chester and Hereford and to his own father describing what had happened and the Welsh rumors regarding Pembroke's intentions. To no one, not even Gaunt, did Cain mention what Llwellyn had told him about his personal involvement in Pembroke's plans. His father would discover the facts soon enough from Sir Robert, if they were facts and not rumors, and from the rest of the world Cain had every desire to hide the facts. Pembroke's shame, now that a blood bond existed between them, was his as well through Leah. Leah—his eyes slid back to the open letter and he reached for it, re-read it, made a gesture of casting it aside, and then hastily rolled and sealed it and thrust it into the bag with the others.
Four days later, Lord Radnor rode once again across the drawbridge and into the keep that held his wife. All the way from Penybont, he had wondered how much of his message Leah would have transmitted to her father. The stunned face that Pembroke turned to him when they met in the courtyard gave the answer. Obviously Leah had told her father nothing—not even that her husband was on his way back.
"Where have you been?" Pembroke gasped. "To where did you go? Your father would say nothing except that you were mad and given to such disappearances."
Momentarily Cain could make no answer because his wife was hanging on his neck and he was fully occupied with soothing her. Leah's slight body trembled pathetically, and she pressed herself frantically against her husband, shying sidelong as her father approached them.
"Gently, gently, dear heart," Cain protested, wincing as Leah squeezed his hurt side. "I am battle-sore. How now, what a greeting for a week's absence. If I am gone two weeks I shall be afraid to come home lest I should be hugged to death. Look up. Come, do. I swore I would come soon and safely, and here I am."
"So the little bitch knew where you were," Pembroke snarled, unwisely laying a hand on Leah's shoulder.
In the next moment he was picking himself up from the ground five feet away. Gaunt, who had entered through the bailey gate, began to help Pembroke dust himself off. "Restrain your ebullience in greeting, Cain," he said dryly. "I am forever telling you that you do not know your own strength. If you wish to pat a man, do so. Do not knock him down."
"I am very sorry," Radnor said stiffly. "I do forget. I have been known to kill a man with kindness."
It was impossible that Pembroke should accept such an excuse or miss the warning in the last statement, yet he certainly seemed to do so. He returned to clasp Radnor's hand warmly, ignoring his shuddering daughter, and to press him to come in to dinner, which was just being laid on the tables. Cain's nostrils flared as if he were seeking the scent of an unclean beast, but he followed readily and even sat down beside Pembroke to eat. He began to describe his sojourn in Wales with genuine pleasure, watching for the signs of discomfiture he was sure Pembroke could not completely conceal. The effort, however, was totally unrewarded, Pembroke nodded unqualified approval.
"The only thing I cannot like," he said, "is your leaving so many of your men behind you. You have not a large enough troop now to guard yourself properly. I would advise you to wait until they can be returned to you before you go to London."
"No," Radnor replied softly, his eyes flickering with amusement under their fringe of lashes. Pembroke was a fool to lay such an open snare. "My business with the king is most urgent, concerning as it does the peace of Wales."
"Then why do you not take some of my men with you? I do not go to this council. I am growing old and find such jaunts too much for me. You, I know, will guard my interests, since they are also yours now. But you should not take Leah with you. Nay, do not frown at me. Do but think of how that girl acted today. She is simple! She will blab all your business to everyone who exchanges a word with her."
"She will not know my business."
"Oh, very well. I am not going to quarrel with you over a chit of a girl, but if you take her with you, you will need a house in London. You cannot camp with a woman in your train."
Cain frowned. He had not thought of that, but it was perfectly true. "She will have to put up with a camp, or perhaps she can stay with Leicester until I have a place."
"Nonsense," Pembroke said. "I have a house in London and there is no reason at all why you should not stay there."
"I thought you had sold that house to Oxford."
"No, I rented it to him, but for my own son-by-marriage he cannot refuse to give the place up. You will, of course, have to return the rental to him, but that cannot signify to you."
The hair at the nape of Radnor's neck prickled as if he were expecting to be ambushed from behind. To give himself thinking space he choked on the roast venison he was eating, reached for his wine, and drank, coughing occasionally. Surely Pembroke could not be so mad as to attack him during a baronial conference; he had too many powerful friends. What was the purpose of this sudden burst of friendliness? What benefit could accrue to Pembroke from placing him in any particular house in London?
"If there is time," Radnor agreed warily, "and you would be so good, it would save my looking about."
"No trouble at all. I will send a messenger to Oxford tonight. You will no doubt come in to London by the Oxford road so that you will pass his keep. If you stay the night there, Oxford can give you the keys and tell you how to find the place and you will have but two easy days' journey into London."
Radnor closed his eyes altogether at this statement. Ambush on the road? Very possible, but Pembroke knew what route he would take since it was the only one possible without all this elaborate arrangement. Murder at Oxford Castle? That too was possible. How interesting! This was going to change a dull trip into a battle of nerves and wits. Radnor opened his eyes very wide as he heard Pembroke ask sympathetically if he felt unwell.
"Not at all, not at all."
"That is very good. I thought you had grown faint suddenly."
"No," Radnor replied, smiling broadly, "I was but considering how kind all men are to me."
Oddly enough he was speaking the literal truth, for Pembroke had told him, unintentionally, something that was far more important to him than information concerning the time or place of his own assassination. If Pembroke still did not wish Leah to go to London, then she was no part of his plan except as the heir to his estates. His assumption was confirmed when Edwina bore down upon him shortly after dinner.
"You are scarcely ever to be found alone, Lord Radnor."
Cain's brows rose. What need had Edwina to find him alone?
"I wished to speak to you about Leah," she continued.
Radnor had little desire to be told how to manage his affairs by his mother-by-marriage, but he was much interested in what she had to say. "I am here now," he said encouragingly.
"Gilbert says you are still determined to take Leah to London tomorrow."
"Yes."
"Do you think that is wise? She—"
"Yes."
"Forgive me, Lord Radnor, but she will be perfectly safe here, while at court … She is so young. Her head has already been turned by these festivities."
"I had not noticed."
"Again I ask your pardon for differing with you, but you must acknowledge that I know Leah longer and perhaps better than you do. She used to be a docile, sweet-tempered girl, but of late she is grown very willful and disobliging."
"Not to me."
"No, not yet, of course, but if you indulge her—"
"You should be pleased."
"I look to the future. Now when she is young these tricks and quirks are charming. You may not find them so later. There is something more important. If she is already with child, such a trip will likely destroy it, and if she is not she may get ideas that are bad for your succession."
Radnor's eyes shifted. He had not thought that Leah might be breeding yet, and there was now no woman he could ask for advice. Well, if she conceived so readily, she would conceive again. Surely it was too soon and the mother knew it. Pembroke had put her up to this, no doubt, but Cain was tired of listening.
"Madam," he said, "her training would be sadly at fault if the court could teach her such lewdness in a few short weeks. Moreover, I intend to guard her well and use her well. She will have neither the chance nor the strength to betray me." He laughed coarsely. "I do not take Leah for her convenience, but for my own."
In the dim light of the one shaded candle, Leah's face looked pinched and pale as she peered around the room. She did not think there was anything that remained to be done. All of her new clothes and other scanty possessions were packed in wicker baskets suitable for the portage animals. Her husband's clothing was similarly disposed. The garments he would wear for traveling were laid out—the inevitable shirt and chausses, rough homespuns in the greyish tan common to unbleached wool, a tunic, also homespun, the mail shirt that was essential protection for everyday travel in England in these times, and the old worn brown velvet surcoat.
The mail shirt had been brought to her by a courteous young knight with pleasant, easy manners who had introduced himself as Harry Beaufort. He had stayed to talk for a time, telling her about the battle at Penybont, which Cain had shrugged off when she asked. Helmet, shield and other minor armor were still in Sir Harry's care and would be delivered to Radnor just before they mounted up to leave. That was all then. Leah looked around as another restless movement made the bed creak.
Cain had slept very heavily for a time right after their lovemaking, leaving Leah trembling, near tears, and wide awake. He had been very slow, deliberately holding back to savor his own sensations and Leah's response, playing and playing with her until she had been driven to scratch him and bite the hard, scarred mouth that tormented her so pleasantly. Too soon after that, however, he had rolled away.