Selkirk’s encampment was ablaze with light and activity, which made it an oddity among all the others, which were settling down for the night. Taylor was pleased it was so. She would not be an unwelcome disturbance, at least. But why would Selkirk be so busy when everyone else was lethargic?
Mary caught at Taylor’s horse’s bridle and brought her to a stop when they reached the sentries. Thankfully, Taylor slithered to the ground. Her legs were shaking from having to hold onto the horse so tightly. Adrenaline was coursing through her. She made a mental note to practice a lot more with horses when she got back. Bareback, this time.
Mary was already standing in front of the sentries, her hand on her hip, the other holding both horses’ reins. “Make way for the Lady Norwich, my good men,” she said importantly. “She has need to speak to Lord Selkirk.”
Taylor straightened her clothing and moved to stand just behind Mary’s shoulder as she had seen Raymond do with his knights.
The sentries just stared at them.
Mary cocked her head. “Cheeky buggers,” she muttered. “Move, or I’ll have your bollocks!” she said, much more loudly.
“It’s rather late to be seeking an audience with anyone, my lady, don’t you think?” The voice came from dark shadows, but Taylor knew it was Veris. She knew his voice so well she would recognize it anywhere. He stepped into the light thrown from nearby fires to stand behind his men. He crossed his arms. “Forgive the caution my men are showing, but at night we must watch for assassins. I know you will be familiar with that term.”
“Of course. Lord Selkirk has been threatened, then. It explains the light and the activity.” She tapped the knife on her belt. “This is the only weapon I carry. My maid carries none. You may escort me directly to Lord Selkirk and escort me back to my horse. Will that satisfy your need for caution?”
“What is this fuss, Will?” came a low, contralto feminine voice, that seemed to be both full of laughter and full of sexual promise at the same time. Just the sound of it made the fine hairs on the back of Taylor’s neck stand up and sent a ripple down her back. It wasn’t a pleasant sensation at all.
Like Veris, the woman was lingering in the shadows, but she was using them deliberately and didn’t reveal herself. The first glimpse Taylor caught of her was a long-fingered hand that slid over Veris’ shoulder possessively, before curling around and stroking his neck.
He didn’t move. He didn’t shrug off the hand. He didn’t respond to it either.
Then the rest of her emerged into the light.
She was tall. Tall enough that standing next to Veris, she only had to rise on her toes a little to slide her tongue along his neck and into his ear as her hand continued to stroke the other side of his neck.
It was a form of greeting, Taylor realized. An intimate greeting.
The woman turned to study Taylor, her greeting done. With a small start of surprise, Taylor realized the woman was wearing chainmail, hose and a tunic, just like a man. She even had a sword strapped to her hip. Everything was scaled down to her proportions. Everything was in Selkirk colors.
She had blue eyes. They weren’t like Veris’ though. Her eyes were almost completely colorless, like a washed-out summer sky, punctuated by the iris. It gave her eyes a hypnotic quality. Her hair was raven black and woven in one long braid down the center of her back.
Taylor fought down the sensation of dismay building in her.
Only a woman of high importance in the Selkirk household could arrange for themselves tailored clothes with the Selkirk colors. And male clothing?
If she and Veris were lovers…
Taylor realized she had let herself stare for too long. She pulled her gaze away from the woman, who was beginning to smile with a self-satisfied expression that made Taylor’s skin crawl.
“I seek a few minutes of Lord Selkirk’s time,” Taylor said. “I was explaining to William that I am happy to be escorted under arms if it makes everyone feel more secure and comfortable. I am no assassin.”
The woman turned to Will. “I will take her.”
Will shook his head. “The assassins have you on their list, too.” He was speaking softly, but not bothering to lower his voice too much because he thought no one would understand him but the woman. Taylor battled to keep her face expressionless as she found herself translating the words almost automatically in her mind. Except for the word “assassin” Will had used ancient Norse. He added, “There are too many spears out here tonight.”
Taylor leaned forward. “Who is she?” she breathed into Mary’s ear.
Mary turned her head. “Davina. Wife of Selkirk.”
Taylor kept her best neutral look on her face as the two turned back to look at her.
Davina scowled at her. “William will escort you to the lord,” she said and stalked away, her sword slapping her thigh.
The sentries stepped aside.
“Watch the horses, Mary. You really don’t want to come inside the camp.”
“I don’t think I do, neither,” Mary murmured.
* * * * *
Veris halted her about ten paces beyond the sentries. “I have to ask you for your knife, my lady.”
“Do you get to search me, too?” she asked, pulling the knife out of her belt.
“I will trust you for now.” He pushed the knife into his belt. “I think we both know I could slit your throat faster than you could withdraw any other weapon.”
“Finally, we are making some progress.” Taylor smiled at him. “And where do we find your worthy lord?”
Veris held out his hand, indicating the way. Taylor picked up the hem of her dress and carefully skirted around the chests, gear, ropes and pegs that might snag her clothes, while trying to look graceful.
“You look much more elegant now,” Veris observed.
“I know you like elegance.” She stepped over a sleeping man and moved on without comment.
“You dressed for me?”
“I would like to say yes, but I actually dressed for Selkirk. One honors the lord one visits, when one is asking a favor.”
“You’ve come to ask a favor?”
“Yes.”
“For your husband?”
“For me.”
Veris laughed.
“Where is the humor in that?” she asked.
“You’re a woman.”
She realized it was simply eleventh century thinking, but still found herself coming to a halt. “Like Davina is a woman?”
Veris halted, too. “That’s different.”
“Why?” Taylor dropped into old Norse. “Because she’s a vampire? Or because she is your lover?”
She heard his breath catch. Now he will try to turn the argument to attack, Taylor thought.
Veris scowled. “Are you jealous, perhaps? I saw your face when she touched me.”
Even knowing why he was doing it, his petty slash still hurt, because it was the truth. Taylor had been horrified, watching Davina’s lovely hands and lips touching Veris. It had made her sick.
“You
were
,” Veris breathed.
Then he glanced around quickly and straightened up, as if he had suddenly remembered where they were. “You are human,” he said flatly. “It’s not your place to question who we chose to take as partners. You have no claim over us at all. Didn’t your husband teach you this when he deigned to marry you?”
Taylor could feel her eyes stinging and blinked furiously. The last thing she needed was tears, right now. “If that’s truly the vampire creed at this time, I refuse to believe for a second that you follow it. It suits Davina down to the ground, but you’d hate it. You’re too warm. Too human.”
Veris looked deeply offended. “You insult me, madam.”
“Do I? Really?” Taylor held out her hand. “Give me your hand for a moment.”
Veris crossed his arms, looking wise.
“For heaven’s sake. You know you could snap my neck in one second. Give me your hand.” She shook her hand for emphasis.
He laid his hand with the heavy mail gauntlet in hers.
Taylor pulled the gauntlet off and handed it back to him. Veris’ hand was familiar and dear. She lifted it and stroked the palm. Then, delicately, she slipped her fingers between his and caressed the flesh along the sides of his fingers.
She heard his tiny gasp and hid her smile as she continued to caress and stroke the sensitive flesh there. She looked up and saw that Veris was watching her fingers with profound concentration, as if he was hypnotized. She lifted her fingers and beckoned. He leaned down. She reached up on tiptoe and like Davina before her, she slid her tongue up along Veris’ neck. But she followed the line of his tendon and concentrated on the hollow underneath his ear. Then, delicately, she slipped the tip of her tongue into his ear as she let her breath blow over it.
Veris shuddered.
Taylor stepped back. “It’s only because of warm relationships with humans that a human could get to know you and do that to you. I bet Davina never has, Will.”
He growled. It was an animal sound that frightened her and she cringed.
Veris grabbed her arm and hurried her through the camp. She could barely keep her feet and only had one hand to spare to hold up her dress.
He only let go of her arm when they were standing before a large tent and two more sentries. These were fully armed knights.
“Lady Norwich to see Selkirk,” Veris growled. His voice was thick and hoarse. Rage or arousal. Possibly both.
One of the knights slipped into the tent.
“Someone else will see you back to your horse,” Veris told her. “Here.” He held out her knife to her, hilt first. When she took it, he turned and walked away with no attempt at a formal farewell.
The knight returned. “This way,” he said, holding the flap open for her.
Taylor stepped inside.
It was bright with candles and quite hot, plus there was a lot of furniture. That was her first impression.
Selkirk was a middle-aged man with dark hair going gray at the temples. He was unusually tall for the times and had blue eyes that might have been called startling if Taylor hadn’t seen his wife’s eyes or Veris’ first. These eyes just looked ordinary in comparison, and tired. There were the beginnings of bags beneath his eyes, from either stress, lack of sleep or age. But he was once a handsome man and he was still attractive, with an air of command that came with age.
“Lady Norwich, this is…unusual.”
She curtsied. “I appreciate your time and your tolerance, Lord Selkirk. I have an unusual request and I’ve heard that you are a wise man and open-minded. I have hopes that you will listen to my request and help me meet my needs.”
Selkirk waved toward his big chair but Taylor had already learned that the big chairs were for the men. She demurred with a smile and perched on the little chest nearby. “This is…delicate.”
Selkirk gave a small laugh. “If it is a female matter, I am sure it is delicate.”
“It is political, actually. But it is hard to explain.”
Selkirk lifted his shoulders a little. “Plain words are often the best.”
“Then if you are not offended by plain words, I will use them. That will be easiest for me.”
Selkirk lifted a single brow. “If you are able to use plain words, then please do.”
Taylor settled her hands in her lap. “I want to borrow your man, William, for three days to assist my husband while he goes in search of water and food for Raymond’s forces.”
Selkirk sat very still for a few seconds. “Well,” he said at last. “I would not have wagered on that outcome.” He stood and pushed his big sleeves up his arms. Taylor got the sense that he was falling to business. “William is one of my most reliable knights. Why would I deplete my forces by lending him to another for three whole days?”
He was looking for compensation. But Taylor had none to give. Only Brody as the Lord of Norwich had any real money in this time and she didn’t want to drag him into this.
She was going to have try a different sort of coinage. “I would have thought,” she said carefully, “that you might like to have William removed from your household, even for a while.”
Selkirk’s eyes widened. “
Very
plain spoken indeed,” he muttered. He stalked to a table next to his chair and poured a mug of wine and drank deeply. Then he studied her. “Let us agree that it would be to my advantage to have William gone for a while. It still depletes my fighting forces. That is no lie.”