Lady Knight (19 page)

“The worst may not come to pass,” Riannon said. “It is as the Goddess wills.”

“Give me a short while to surrender to despair in your arms. I’ll return to
rational thought then. Please, just hold me. Hold me like you’ll never let me
go.”

Riannon mentally cursed. This was what she had dreaded. Eleanor slid her arms in
the long slits of the arm holes of Riannon’s surcote and clutched the back of
Riannon’s tunic.

“I know this is an unpleasant surprise,” Riannon said.

“Surprise?” Eleanor shook her head. “I should’ve guessed. I should’ve seen it
coming. I’ve had the example of poor Cicely under my nose these weeks, have I
not?”

“Cicely?” Riannon’s frown deepened. “Of what do you speak? Nell?”

Eleanor sighed and slipped her arms out of Riannon’s clothes. She looked pale
save for redness around her eyes.

“Have you been weeping?” Riannon asked.

“How could I not?” Eleanor clasped one of Riannon’s hands and held it against
her bosom. “Oh, Nonnie, what are we to do? I have never felt so wretched. I’ve
never more desperately needed clear wits to think, yet my mind keeps stumbling
over and over the same words.”

“What words?” Riannon said.

Eleanor cast a despairing look up at her. “You don’t know. Here I’ve been so
lost in my own misery with no thought for you but having you comfort me.”

“I do so willingly. But what has upset you?” Riannon forced her thoughts past
her own devastating afternoon. “The queen?”

Eleanor bit her lip and nodded. Her fingers tightened around Riannon’s hand.

“How much did she demand from you in fine?” Riannon asked.

“Not a penny. You see, I’m not to remain a widow. It’s my liege lady’s pleasure
that I marry.”

Riannon felt as though she had received too many strong blows to the helm.
“Marry?”

“With all haste. Even now, my man of law is discussing it with Lord Howe’s man.”

“Lord Howe?” Riannon said. “But… but what of Guy?”

Eleanor released Riannon and crossed the room to retrieve her silver-rimmed cup.
She drank deeply. Riannon stared at her rigid back, not quite able to believe
what Eleanor had told her. Yet, the part inside which chilled with horror grew.
Eleanor married. To a man. The woman she loved was to be owned by a husband.
No. Shite!

“How can we avoid it?” Riannon said.

“We cannot.”

“There must be a way. There must be something we can do.”

“I confess that I haven’t been thinking clearly. But I cannot see how it is to
be avoided. The queen was adamant. I’m her vassal. I’m subject to her will.
Everything I own – everything I am – is mine because I owe fealty to her. It’s
her right to decide who is to be lord of those lands. I have no choice.”

“Could you not offer her more money? I have very little, but it’s all yours.”

Eleanor flashed her a smile. “Thank you, love, but I did try to buy my way out.
With sums I hardly dare think of again. She would have none of it. She has her
mind set on this course. Although, why Sir Geoffrey, I cannot imagine. He was
not prominent amongst those who supported the queen. He isn’t prominent in any
way.”

Riannon scoured her memory for him. He was a white-haired man of more than sixty
years with few of his teeth remaining. The idea of him touching Eleanor soured
her bile. And him kissing her. He would want to bed her.

“Shite! No.” Riannon’s fists clenched. “There must be something we can do.”

“Make love to me. Please. Make me forget everything but me and you in this room,
now.”

Riannon wanted to be gentle, but she could not banish the idea that this might
be one of the last times they lay together. In just a few days, she might be
dead and Eleanor married to an old man. Desperation shadowed her every touch.
She wanted each kiss to convince Eleanor how much she loved her. She clutched
possessively. She wished to transmit through her hands, mouth, and legs a whole
lifetime of joy and giving condensed into one intense act. Eleanor’s fingernails
dug into her flesh as if she wanted to gain a hold on Riannon that neither the
queen nor fate could break. When Eleanor called out Riannon’s name, anxiety
stained ecstasy.

Eleanor tugged the bed hangings a few inches apart to let in more of the
brightening dawn. She wanted to watch Riannon sleeping. She must etch the memory
deep in her mind so that time could not easily erode it. This was the woman she
loved. Her lover, but not the person she would live out the rest of her life
with. Although, given that Sir Geoffrey was old enough to be her father, his
death would likely be the one that ended her sentence.

Eleanor blinked back tears and wriggled closer to Riannon. Riannon sighed but
did not wake. Eleanor drew Riannon’s arm across her stomach. How could the
heaviness and solidity of Riannon’s touch be so ephemeral? Passion was supposed
to be eternal. But if it was, where would that leave the two of them? Asad
travesty of a troubadour’s couple made pale by a love reduced to hopeless sighs
and unrequited longing.

Eleanor ran her hand up and down Riannon’s arm. She wished she could touch
Riannon’s skin rather than her shirt.

How would she be able to lie with Sir Geoffrey while remembering Riannon, and
loving Riannon, and wanting Riannon? She had endured the attentions of two
husbands she had felt little physical attraction for. She could do it again.
The world was stuffed with women who submitted themselves to their conjugal
duties. But she had not had to do it while passionately in love with someone
else and knowing that her lover lived and loved her. How could she not think of
Riannon while Sir Geoffrey mounted her?

Eleanor shuddered and clutched Riannon’s arm. Gods, how could you do this? You
brought her to me and you made me see the truth of my love for her when I might
have continued blind. Did you open my eyes to make this all the more painful?
What lesson could benevolent gods possibly teach in such a callous fashion?

Eleanor wiped away her tears when she felt Riannon stir. She initiated
lovemaking not because she wanted an orgasm, but because she needed to be
physically intimate. To give herself to Riannon. She wept afterwards in
Riannon’s arms.

“I simply cannot see a path clear of this,” Eleanor said.

“Perhaps we should take each day as it comes.”

“I could evade the marriage by taking holy vows.”

“Would you want to?”

“No,” Eleanor said. “That life holds no appeal. I could not relinquish
everything I own without a true vocation.”

Riannon stroked Eleanor’s hair. “Love, let us pretend, for today, that the rest
of creation has ceased to exist. That you and I are the only people alive. And
that we can be like this always. Just as you said yesterday.”

Eleanor held one of Riannon’s large, beautiful hands. It smelled of their sex.
She pressed a kiss on the palm. “That is what I needed then. Now, my mind cannot
be so easily stilled. I’m accustomed to finding solutions to my problems. If
ever there has been something in my life worth fighting for, Nonnie, it’s you
and I. Do you not feel that, too?”

“Yes. But anything may happen on the morrow. Let us enjoy today, love. Please.”

Eleanor heard that flat, distant tone in Riannon’s voice that signalled a
retreat. Surprised, she turned to see Riannon propped against the pillows
frowning at her. The guard was definitely in place.

“You cannot think I want this marriage?” Eleanor said. “That I would prefer him
to you? That I had any hand in this?”

Riannon shook her head.

“Then what has you so pale and reserved?” Eleanor put a hand to Riannon’s cheek.
“Nonnie?”

Riannon put her hand over Eleanor’s. “Love, let us enjoy today.”

Eleanor let Riannon pull her close. She pillowed her head against Riannon’s
chest. She tried to step beyond how the catastrophe affected herself to see it
from Riannon’s eyes. Riannon would have it easier, since she would not be the
one submitting herself to Sir Geoffrey’s will and surrendering control of her
land, her money, and her body. But it would not be easy for her.

Eleanor sat up. “You won’t leave the kingdom, will you? I don’t think I could
bear not seeing you again. Oh, how selfish of me. Holy Mother, help us. You must
do what you need to. You’ve little to tie yourself to this land, have you? I
miss you already, and yet I’m here with you.”

Riannon gathered her again and held her in strong arms. Eleanor listened to
Riannon’s heartbeat. Wherever that heart beat, some part of Eleanor would always
be there also.

“No matter what happens,” Riannon said, “I will love you. Remember that. There
is one person who has lived who has loved you beyond all women, who has held you
as the most precious person the gods created.”

Eleanor blinked, but the tears flowed freely. “Nonnie, don’t. You make it sound
so final. As though the world was poised to end. I thought we were to pretend.
At least for today.”

There had to be a way she could keep hold of Riannon for not just this day, but
the rest of her life.

Riannon looked up from Eleanor’s head in her lap to the gap in the bed curtains.
The day died. She must leave soon for the twilight blessing at the holy pool.
She stroked Eleanor’s hair. Like something alive, the soft chestnut waves
covered Eleanor’s pale shoulders and spilled across Riannon’s lap. She did not
want to go. She did not want to say goodbye to Eleanor, because it might be for
the last time. Nor did she want to tell Eleanor why she must leave.

Was it cowardice to want to protect the woman she loved? Eleanor’s knowing that
she was the Vahldomne would bring her nought but sorrow and worry. Yet, could
Riannon deceive her about her reasons for being unable to remain tonight? Was it
better for Eleanor to suffer anxiety for a night and half a day, but be prepared
for the news should Riannon be wounded or slain? Or would it be easier on her to
pass the intervening hours in ignorance and learn the truth tomorrow?

The honourable part of Riannon warred with the lover.

Riannon stroked Eleanor’s hair. She lifted some to kiss. She wished she could
cut off a lock and carry it with her. She would not ask.

“Love, I need to rise,” Riannon said.

Eleanor straightened and settled back against the pillows. Riannon gently
touched her cheek when she really wanted to pull the two of them together so
hard that they fused into one inseparable being. Riannon climbed out of bed and
passed through the hangings. Their clothes lay in untidy piles. With a heart
heavier than lead, she pulled on her braies.

“You’re dressing?” Eleanor poked her head through the hangings. “Where are you
going?”

Riannon finished tying the lace from the top of her left hose leg to the waist
cord of her braies. “I must leave you for a few hours, love.”

Riannon turned from Eleanor’s frown to retrieve her tunic.

“When will you be back?” Eleanor said.

“On the morrow.”

“The morrow? Where are you going?”

Riannon pulled her tunic over her head and tugged it into place. This was what
she dreaded.

“I go to pray,” Riannon said.

“It’ll soon be dark. Could this not wait until the morning?” Eleanor closed on
Riannon and ran her hands up Riannon’s arms. “We could go together. I think it
would be a good idea, considering the divine aid we need. I do not want to spend
the night without you. Every moment is precious.”

“I know, love. Believe me, I would remain if I could.”

“Then why must you leave now? And pray? What could be so important that –”
Eleanor paled and her eyes widened. She stood as still as one turned to stone
with a look of horror on her face. When she spoke, it was in a fearful whisper.
“No. Nonnie, no. It cannot be.”

Riannon’s heart sank. She put a hand to Eleanor’s cheek. “I’ll be back.”

“Naer Aveline. Your service to the order.” Eleanor gripped Riannon’s tunic in
her fists. “Holy Mother, tell me it’s not true! Tell me that my imagination is
overheated. Nonnie?”

“I will return. The Goddess’s cause is right and will prevail.”

“Oh, gods.” Eleanor covered her face with her hands but failed to stifle a sob.
“Oh, gods. No. I cannot bear it. I cannot.”

Riannon put her arms around Eleanor. Eleanor’s sobs were harder to bear than
blows. “Love, I’ll be back.”

“It was hard enough to think of losing you while you yet lived. How could I cope
if you are killed?”

“The cause I champion is just.”

Eleanor’s hands clutched Riannon’s tunic. Tears flowed freely down her face. “I
can see you bloodied and battered and dying. I’ve seen it before!”

Riannon held her tight and kissed the top of her head. “Love, please try to be
calm.”

“I cannot watch. I cannot.”

“I know. I don’t want you to be there. Let me think of you here and smiling.”

Eleanor stifled a sob against Riannon’s chest. Her body shook with weeping.
Riannon squeezed her eyes shut in a vain attempt to stop her own tears.
Atuan,
lord of battle, help me. Give me courage.

“Nell? Love?”

Eleanor sniffed. Riannon could feel her taking deep breaths and trying to
collect herself.

“I shouldn’t be doing this.” Eleanor straightened and wiped her face. “I’ve sent
a husband off to war. You do not need my tears. You need to know that I can be
as strong as you. That I love you and wish you to return.”

“I will return. The Goddess’s cause is right. Believe that, love.”

Eleanor nodded in a brave effort to rally.

“I know you don’t give out favours,” Riannon said, “but would you give me a lock
of your hair that I could carry? It would comfort me greatly to have some pledge
from you.”

Eleanor drew out a lock of hair, twisted it, and tied the end in a knot. She let
Riannon cut the knot off. Eleanor unlocked her jewellery casket and returned
with a green silk ribbon. She secured the knot of hair to it and tied the ribbon
loosely around Riannon’s neck. Riannon tucked it inside her shirt, to be next to
her skin, and kissed Eleanor.