“He’s quitting Selkirk?” Taylor said, in English.
“Yes.”
“And coming to work for you?”
“Yes.”
“Is that what happened before?”
Brody shook his head. He was watching Veris ride away. “Not exactly,” he murmured. “But the end result is almost the same. He ended up a knight in my household.
If
Selkirk lets him go without a fight and if Selkirk can handle Davina.”
“What could Davina do to Selkirk?” Taylor asked. “I thought Selkirk fought in the siege tomorrow. You said he did, originally. But you sound worried, like Davina might hurt Selkirk, or foul up Veris’ plans somehow.”
“All bets are off,” Brody said gently. “Davina obeys no laws. That is the reason Veris had to deal with her, the first time around. She already tried to assassinate him once, out here in the desert. That didn’t happen last time. Now, with all the changes that have happened, I can’t begin to guess what she may do. We are moving through country as undiscovered as the future.” He looked down at her and smiled gently. “Let’s go get you a more comfortable bed for you to pretend to be frail upon.”
* * * * *
Veris paused only long enough to wash up and change before presenting himself to Selkirk. It had been years since his heart had beat in time with his emotions, but now he found it was hurrying along, squeezing and banging against the inside of his chest. If no other sign had indicated so, this alone told him his decision was sound. His body was awakening once more to simple pleasures, more human responses and stimulus, instead of being dead to anything but the most extreme forms of pain and pleasure.
Selkirk greeted him with arms spread wide and a big smile. His hand shake was firm and his pat on the back hearty and accompanied by fulsome greetings and praise.
“The hero of the hour!” Selkirk declared. “You have done me and the Selkirk name proud, William! The northern lords and their households are relieved of their dire circumstances tonight because of you.” He grasped Veris’ forearm with his left hand while still shaking his hand. “I will not forget this, William.”
He let Veris’ hand go, then turned and picked up a cup of wine from the small table standing by the big shield chair that went everywhere with him. “Tonight in the small hours we roll the siege engines up to the walls of the city. It would have been an impossible task with no water to soothe our mouths and bellies, but you have changed that.” He lifted the cup up to Veris and drank a mouthful.
“You exaggerate my part in the matter, my lord,” Veris replied. “I reported to Brendan of Norwich and followed his orders. It was his man who found the water and Norwich’s skill and leadership that ensured the water arrived here inside the three day limit that Toulouse demanded.”
Selkirk’s cup lowered a little. “But still, you succeeded!” he insisted.
“I followed a leader,” Veris replied. “An excellent leader. One that I would prefer to continue to follow.”
Selkirk put his cup back on the table. “William, you are making no sense at all. Three days in the desert have parched your innards.”
Veris smiled grimly. From the narrowing of Selkirk’s eyes, the man knew exactly what he meant. He simply wanted Veris to speak the words aloud. Veris tucked his thumbs into his belt and looked Selkirk in the eye. It meant dropping his chin a fraction to do it. “I wish to be immediately released from your services and your household, my lord.”
Selkirk took a moment to absorb it. “Immediately? Impossible! We are on the eve of war, man! I cannot possible deprive my retinue of one of my best knights. It is out of the question.”
“I will be fighting tomorrow, no matter which shield is on my tunic,” Veris replied evenly. “The Christians will not lose my skills. Is that not the more important question here?”
Selkirk hesitated.
“You have for the last three days survived quite happily without my services,” Veris pushed on. “You’ve managed to build a siege engine without my oversight. I saw it out there as I came into the tent. I presume Richard managed the matter while I was gone. I trained him and know his abilities. He knows how to handle men well. You will not be without a good second once I am gone.”
Selkirk grew angry. “You already speak as if the matter is settled.”
“It is,” Veris said sharply. “Understand, my lord. I am leaving whether you wish it or no. I am simply trying to help you agree to the matter.”
“
Agree
?” Selkirk’s face turned red. “Do you know what I will do to you if you
dare
leave without my authority?”
“Or my Lady Selkirk’s, either?” Veris added.
Selkirk sucked in his breath, as if he were trying to catch back words. He coughed and cleared his throat. When he finished coughing, his face was mottled white and red. He sank down onto the big chair, breathing hard and rubbed at his temple.
He bowed his head and for a long moment he said nothing.
Veris understood then that Selkirk had been trying to fool himself that the rumors were not true, that his wife had not been systematically cuckolding him for the duration of their marriage.
If Selkirk truly understood the depth and style of her betrayal, he would attempt to kill her and then discover what manner of creature he had married in fact.
Veris pulled the length of cloth from his tunic, stepped forward and dropped it onto Selkirk’s knee. The blood was old, now. Crusty and stale, but any fighting man would recognize the stains for what they were. The stains had soaked across most of the cloth, but the Selkirk shield and Davina’s stylized “D” were perfectly clear.
Selkirk didn’t try to pick it up. “What is this?” He tried to speak with a demanding, authoritative voice, but it came out weak. Broken.
“Norwich took that from the body of the man Lady Selkirk sent to assassinate me, out in the desert. She had him dress like a Fatimid and shove a spear in me from behind. You have reparations to make to Norwich, Selkirk. His lady took that spear, not I.”
Selkirk gripped his chair arm. “She died?”
“She lives, but only because I and one other between us know enough about war wounds to make it so,” Veris told him harshly. “But I won’t fight another day wearing the shield of a house that plots against me. I’m quit of Selkirk as of now.”
“You have proof of this?”
“You’re holding it,” Veris growled.
“A piece of bloody cloth?” Selkirk picked it up in his fingers. “I could cut any sow’s throat, sop up the blood and cry murder, too.”
Veris nodded. “Then ask anyone in your household under my command who went on the expedition. They’ll confirm the details. Ask around Norwich’s camp. Inspect the shoulder of Norwich’s wife. Look at the wound she carries. Then, when you’re ready, try to find a Selkirk archer called John. A tall young fellow with pale skin and blue eyes something like mine. He’s been missing since the expedition set out for water three days ago. You won’t find him because Norwich buried him in the desert after beheading him, because he tried to kill me with a spear on your wife’s orders.”
Selkirk grimaced. “I know the man of whom you speak,” he said tiredly. He sighed. “I release you, Will. You are right, an immediate release is better.” Selkirk couldn’t quite meet his eyes.
Veris unhooked his hands, letting them move away from the quick drop to his sword hilt. “I will go at once.” He moved level with the big chair where Selkirk was still sitting hunched against one arm and hesitated. The words were there.
Get rid of your wife, Selkirk. Don’t just put her aside. Kill her, take the head and heart, burn the body and salt her grave and even then, sleep with a spear by your bed.
But he remembered, all at once, that Taylor had tried a simple gambit with Selkirk: to borrow Veris for her husband’s expedition. Selkirk had won and refused to give her his best knight. Instead, Selkirk had sent Veris at the head of his own expedition to win political influence with the northern lords.
Selkirk had made Taylor feel like a fool for his own gain, while Taylor had beggared herself for Brody’s sake.
Veris looked at Selkirk now and his heart hardened. He straightened up and kept walking toward the tent flap. Let Selkirk stew in his own household troubles. He deserved them.
He pushed aside the flap and stepped out into the late afternoon sunlight. It felt extraordinarily fresh and pleasant out here, for all that it was hot, dry and dusty and the raw, dazzling sunlight bothered his eyes more here than ever it did in England.
As he stood adjusting to the sun, Davina rounded the far corner of the tent and came to a halt.
Shock slithered over her face and was quickly gone as she adjusted to the fact that her gambit to kill him had failed.
She painted a smile on her face and came toward him. She was slender and tall and dark-haired, not unlike Taylor, but that was where all similarity ended. Her slenderness held no feminine softness, even though she covered it with cloth and womanly accoutrements on occasions, or like now, with her own version of her husband’s tunics and leggings. Her breasts were small, as were her hips and there was no sweet hour-glass curve at the waist and hip.
Her eyes were the most alluring thing about Davina. She watched Veris now with what most outsiders might consider to be a blank, polite expression, but Veris knew to be a hungry one.
“Everyone tells me you are a hero, Will,” she breathed, sliding her hand up his chest toward his neck, trying to raise his pulse.
He caught her wrist in his. “Explain why,” he growled. “Why have John try to kill me?”
Her eyes narrowed. “I sent him to spy on you, not kill you.” Her other hand slithered, snake-like, around his neck. “Her beauty and allure is on the lips of every man in the western camps. Now rumor is spreading here in the northern ones. I know your drives, your needs. Three days with only her loveliness to look upon? I admit, I was jealous. I sent John to watch you and report back to me.”
“Bullshit,” Veris told her, grabbing her other wrist.
She blinked. “What?”
Veris yanked her wrists away from him, so that her hands weren’t touching his flesh. He assessed her. “It wasn’t Tyra, it was Brendan,” he said. “You sent John to spy on Brendan and me. John’s attack happened immediately after we—”
Davina’s face writhed with anger. “You are mine, Will. You do not get to choose other lovers!” Her hands curved into claws and he barely managed to keep them from his face.
He shoved her back from him, making her stagger. “Your man failed. You have failed. Next time, if you want the task done aright, do it yourself. I’m quit of Selkirk
and
you.”
“You are not leaving,” she said and hissed. It was an ugly sound, one that raised the hairs on the back of his neck and made his hand twitch to reach for the knife in his belt.
“Davina?” Selkirk called from inside the tent.
Her protest had carried and alerted Selkirk to her presence.
Veris held open the tent flap for her, forcing her to enter the tent and not linger and speak to him while her husband sat in the big chair within earshot.
Veris wondered why had he thought her eyes to be so marvelous. There was no warmth in them, despite their decorative appeal. He watched her step into the tent, dropped the flap down behind her with relief and brushed his hands together to rid himself of the dust from the tent flap and that part of his life.
Then he went to find his page to give him orders about packing the remainder of his gear.
* * * * *
By the time he was done the sun was setting and Veris’ mood was turning foul from the delays. In his mind, he was already quit of Selkirk and his dominion, but there were practicalities that needed attention before he could turn his horse south and head for Norwich’s camp. He set up the promotion of Richard to knight to replace him and arrange Richard’s knighthood. There were the positions and armaments for the fighting on the morrow, strategies and supplies to sort out, the dispersal of the water and food they had brought back from the desert and more. Plus the packing and overseeing of the delivery of his personal belongings to Norwich’s camp.
But finally, Veris was free to leave, as the fiery ball of red reached the horizon, with a spectacular display of pinks, reds and oranges across the sky that left many muttering about warnings and portents.
The siege engines were well outlined by the blazing sunset. The citizens behind the walls of the city could not fail to see the completed structures. Their night would not be an easy one.