Malia Martin (17 page)

Aleene regained her composure quickly, shooting a venomous look at the men of Pevensey village who stood their posts around her castle. A great army they were, allowing the enemy to just walk right up to the gate.

“We shall defend this castle against attack, sir!” She yelled, brandishing her spear.

“I would that you allow me entrance. My men shall remain outside.”

The red-haired giant scowled at this, grabbing Cyne’s arm and shaking his head.

“No.” Aleene lifted her spear and looked behind her. “Men, be at arms!”

“If one man here is harmed, Aleene, William will come upon you with no mercy,” Cyne said just loud enough for her to hear. “If I must force my way in, there shall be bloodshed.” He stared at her, the warmth of his gaze gone, the constant smile a grim line. “If you allow me entrance, no one will die here.”

Silence settled upon them. Cyne’s men watched her warily. A sharp wind buffeted their standard, reaching up to whip her gown about her and send icy trails of foreboding through Aleene. She swallowed hard and looked at the new Cyne standing before her, strength, intelligence, and determination filled the vacancy Aleene was used to seeing in his eyes. She glanced quickly at the men behind her, knowing full well they would not be able to fight Cyne and his men, much less the army that now set up camp in the old Roman fort.

“How do I know you will not charge the castle if I open the gate?” she asked finally.

“You do not.”

Her men murmured lowly at this answer.

“You will have to trust me.”

Aleene laughed outright at this, a loud, hollow laugh. “Trust you?” she yelled. Pain pierced her heart. But Aleene took a deep breath and pushed the pain away. Nothing
would get through to her heart again, nothing. “Trust you, the half-wit poacher?”

“Yes.”

Aleene wanted to turn and run. She felt an edge of panic quicken her pulse as she realized she couldn’t do this. How could she defend her castle with no men against the one person she had opened herself up to, the one person she had allowed herself to love? If only the man before her was some foreign unknown, some dirty, ugly human she had not touched, kissed, loved.

“Fine!” she screamed, turning quickly and yanking at the rope to pull up the locking bar. “Fine, I will trust you to enter without your men.” She fought furiously with the rope, twining it about the winch and turning. She could see a few people rushing to the gate, opening it slightly.

Dropping his sword in the dirt, Cyne entered. His friend seemed inclined to follow, but Cyne held up his hand and said something in French. The red-headed man stopped, his face set in harsh lines, his eyes darting from her to the men who still sat their posts.

When Cyne finally stood within the walls of her castle, Aleene dropped the bar across the gate, grabbed her spear, and clattered down the stairs to stand in the dirt in front of her husband.

“What do you want?” She nearly spat the words at his feet.

“I don’t want death,” he said softly.

Aleene laughed harshly. “Then I suggest that you stay away from me.”

“I shall take this castle, Aleene.” He kept his hard gaze locked with hers. “It is rightfully mine.”

Aleene gripped the spear in her hand tighter and laughed again. “Nothing is rightfully yours. If you want it, you will have to kill me first.”

Aleene watched as a muscle in Cyne’s cheek danced along his jaw. “You have no way of defending this castle. If you try, your people will die.” His gaze flicked away from her for a moment, then came back. “Surrender now, and no one will be killed.”

Gritting her teeth, Aleene stared hatefully at the man in front of her. As she took in the considerable breadth of his chest, the long muscled legs and strong arms, she almost laughed again. She had thought this man weak. She had married him because he was one she could control. What a terrible twist of fate, to be standing here at his mercy. At the mercy of this Norman. “What is your name?”

He blinked, surprise furrowing his brow. “My name?” He shook his head slightly. “I am called Robert.”

“And you fight for William of Normandy.”

“Yes, I told you. I am one of his knights.”

Aleene nodded, anger and guilt making her want to slap
Robert’s
face. But she stilled the urge, keeping her gaze level, her hand at her side. If they fought, her people would die. If they did not, her pride would be the only casualty.

Slowly, she let go of her spear, letting it fall to the ground. “Lord Robert of Seabreeze Castle, you may bring your men within these walls.”

The silence that hung over the yard beat against Aleene’s body. She stood very still, her head tilted back so that she could look directly into her husband’s eyes.

Emotion flickered there for an instant, regret perhaps, Aleene wasn’t sure, but she did not allow herself to care. If this man she had made her husband felt anything at all, she was sure it could only be base, primal urges. He was not a man, but an animal to do this to her.

He nodded then, quickly. “It is for the best.”

Aleene didn’t answer. She couldn’t. The hurt and betrayal that raged within her breast kept her mute. She had not cried since she was seven, and yet she knew that if she opened her mouth now, she would most probably cry. And then her pride would not even have the honorable death it now experienced, but humiliating carnage.

Cyne, no, Robert, turned and ordered one of her men to open the gate. The red-headed giant smiled hugely as the gate opened to reveal him. He thumped his chest, then led the other men through the gate, stopping next to Robert.

“Duncan, may I present my wife, Lady Aleene?” Robert kept his gaze on her as he spoke to his friend. “My lady.” He bowed slightly and swept his hand toward Duncan. “Duncan.”

An awkward silence hung between them for a moment and then Duncan said, “It is an honor, milady.”

Aleene could only stare into the hard blue eyes of her husband. He held her gaze, never blinking until finally Aleene had to turn away. She left them, walking through the men that stood about, and then through the doors of the hall. The women had gathered there, peering out at the spectacle taking place. They backed away as she approached, clearing a wide path for Aleene. She did not acknowledge the presence of anyone, just walked forward, her gaze never straying from before her. When she finally reached her chamber, she closed the door behind her, bolted it, and went to her father’s chair.

The tears that had threatened earlier did not come, only the trembling that Aleene was used to, and a blessed numbness that seeped through her limbs and into her heart. The layers of ice were finally working.

Robert did not attempt to breach his lady’s chamber. He settled his men in the castle, posting a watch and giving orders, and then he left to meet with William. They sat upon English land, a miracle in and of itself, but still the crown belonged to another. Robert could only pray that their luck would continue.

When he reached the old Roman fort, William’s men had begun setting up the fortress within its walls. He watched for a moment as they pieced together the already cut wood.

“Robert!”

Turning, Robert saw William coming towards him. “William,” he answered, smiling.

“You are the first Norman to win land!” William laughed, obviously in very high spirits. “This bodes well, I think, for our plans! We shall not stop until I wear the crown, and you, my boy, own lands beyond measure!”

Robert only nodded, knowing full well that with all of the land and bounty William had promised to the lords and barons who funded this project, he, Robert, would be very low on the list when it finally came time to pay back. That was the main reason he had offered to come over first as a spy. For if he lived through the battles to follow, his sons would not be landless.

“We shall ride out on the morrow, Robert.” William folded his large arms across his chest and shifted his weight to the back of his heels. “I would see the surrounding area.”

Robert copied William’s stance, watching the men assembling the premade fort. “I have a daring suggestion, William.”

William did not turn, but nodded. “Daring you say?” He laughed. “I am nothing but these days, Robert, nothing but.”

“King Harold and all of his troops are still in York. They have just finished protecting
that northern flank from Hardrada. March on London, William, now, and you shall find no resistance.”

Robert heard his leader draw in a large breath and hold it for a second.

“No.”

Robert turned. “But we shall take them by surprise. We could take London with little or no bloodshed.”

“No, Robert.” William continued to keep his gaze on the work going on in front of them. “I shall await Harold here, or perhaps further north at the Abbey of Fecamp. I can count on their support. Either way, I shall allow Harold to come to me and fight me honorably.”

In his heart, Robert had hoped William would march on London immediately. He had known, though, that it was a thin hope. “Yes, sir.” He ran his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes for a moment. There would be a battle.

“I shall see you again on the morn, Robert.” William thumped Robert’s back and smiled, then turned and went to help his men.

A
leene watched Robert leave the next morning with the duke and some of his men. They rode horses, large, powerful horses that looked nothing like the ponies King Harold and his entourage rode. It didn’t matter, though, it couldn’t. Harold still had more men than William. She hoped, at least, that most of them still lived after the battle with the king of Norway. With a sinking feeling in her heart, Aleene watched the men ride through the town and into the forest.

She did not leave her room that day, nor did she partake of the food that Berthilde brought to her. She stared out at the bay, the water dull and dark, the air heavy with the chill of coming rain and the sky a flat slate of gray overhead. The weather mimicked her mood as she sat, her hands placidly folded in her lap while her thoughts cast frantically about in her mind, trying to think of a plan, some way, any way, she could regain control of her castle, her life. Some way she would right this terrible wrong she had done to her people. For she had betrayed them. By thinking only of her need to rule Seabreeze, she had lost not only that, but much more to the hands of the Normans.

The only glimmer of happiness that filtered through her heart was when she saw William’s company return, on foot, their horses nowhere to be seen. The mud and dirt that enshrouded each man made her smile and wish desperately she had been there to see that spectacle. With a soft laugh, Aleene wondered if they had fallen from their horses at different times or perhaps all at once. Either way, it was quite a feat.

She watched them trudge up the hill toward their fort and noticed that Cyne, no, Robert, carried William’s armor as well as his own.

He was a strong man, her husband. Aleene tore her gaze from the pathetic tableau and surged up from her seat. That she hadn’t realized no scrounging beggar could have such strength made her seethe. Such stupidity!

Aleene put her hand against the wall and leaned her forehead there. She had been blinded by his beauty, by the peace he had temporarily brought into her life. Oh, more the fool, she. To trust.

She must have stood that way for longer than she thought. For when she heard a knock, without thought she moved and unlocked the door, thinking it would be Berthilde with her supper.

It was not.

“Milady.” Robert dipped his head as he entered, his voice low and soft.

Aleene could only blink at the intruder, her breath coming faster as she registered who it was. “How? But you . . . I thought you . . .” She cut her words short then, knowing that she sounded like a bumbling idiot and hating it. Hating him. “How dare you come to me.” She straightened, squaring her shoulders and funneling all of her hatred into the look with which she speared the man before her.

He stared at her for a moment, his eyes dark.

“You cannot win, you know.” She clenched her fists at her side. “You and your pathetic group of warriors think to conquer all of England? Harold has more men. He has an entire country behind him. You cannot win.”

Robert showed no sign that he had heard what she said. Suddenly she remembered Cyne, her Cyne, how he would stare blankly as she spoke. Quickly she whipped around to stare out the window, giving her husband her back.

“I leave on the morrow.”

She did not say anything.

“I am sorry, Aleene, for betraying you.”

Aleene waited for the trick, waited for the twist that would make sense to Robert’s bald lies. She stared, unbelieving, out the window at William’s standard, which flew over the Roman fort.

She felt Robert move, felt the heat of his body against her back and stiffened.

“You will not believe what I say now, I know.” He laughed, a small derisive sound. “Of course, you will not.”

Aleene searched her mind, trying to figure out the game Robert now played.

“I will say it, though, for I go tomorrow into an unknown future.”

Aleene felt something near her shoulder, whisper soft. She dropped her gaze without moving her head and saw his hand, that beautiful work-worn hand, reaching out, but not touching her. Quickly, she stiffened and moved her shoulder away.