was a generous man, but, they would learn, not so much that he would reward men if they turned against him. It was something he could not resolve at the moment, but would have to, soon. And without the lady, there was little chance of that.
But where could she have gone?
Alain finished the wine in his horn, and realized that he was beginning to feel the flush. His hand had an odd shake to it as he set the silver-trimmed horn down on the white linen cloth. Too much wine, no doubt.
* * *
"Lady, I did not mean– "
"Hush," said Melisande. "For all that you would help me, you will surely be my death. This is my battle, Gerard."
"But if he should find– "
"If he should, then I tell you, you must leave what happens to me. You cannot divide the knights. And you cannot fight against him without destroying everything I treasure."
"Aye. But do you not think another way might be found? As the lord is not yet wed, mayhap it would be enough if he merely knew why."
"You know enough of Normans, Gerard. Do you think he would be so easily satisfied? This hall will never be truly his without that wedding, and all know it. I will not have it."
A shadow fell between them. Melisande's breath sucked in sharply. Gerard straightened his back, drew his lower lip into a tight line across his teeth. Even within the darkness near the entrance, Melisande could recognize the Norman lord by his shape and the way he walked as he approached. His keen eyes surveyed them both separately and together, and an odd smile quirked at one corner of his mouth.
He wore the purple cloak. He wore it every day, doting on it as much as had her poor mother, and as innocently. And why would he not? The magnificent garment on the magnificent man. Surely he looked more regal than a king.
"Good morrow, Edyt, Gerard. Is aught amiss?"
Her mind raced backward to recapture the last words spoken, that he might have overheard. And she hastily replied.
"Nay, lord, only that I wish Gerard to speak to his knights about bones thrown to the dogs at supper. I will not have it in my– your hall, lord. I beg your pardon, that I should be so bold as to claim it for my own, but– "
Again the corner of his mouth twitched, and his eyes slitted into narrow amusement. "It is naught. As long as you think of it as yours, you will give it good care. Then I agree, Gerard, and my men are equally as guilty. I also do not want bones on the floor of my hall. See to it that the word is known among all those who sup with us."
Melisande watched Gerard's reaction, prayed he would catch the spirit and carry it on.
"Aye, lord, it shall be done." Gerard gave a slight, court bow to the lord. An unusual abruptness marked his step as he turned to leave through the same pair of doors where the Norman lord had entered.
"Gerard," he called. Melisande had seen him do this before. He had caught her off her guard, too, with this trick.
Gerard did not know. But he gave naught away in his face. "Aye, lord?"
"I would have you tell me all the places the Lady Melisande might have gone."
"I know not, lord."
"Mayhap you do not. But I will have from you all those who are related, or who might be friends. We will not get far, to search only within these walls."
"Aye, lord." Again, although with a nearly hidden spark of defiance, Gerard turned and left.
Alain then turned to her. "And you as well, Edyt. Bring me some wine and come to the lord's chamber. I will write the names of all those you know."
"I do not think I can help you very much." But Melisande already knew him for the most determined of men. Resistance only made her more obvious.
She felt his eyes boring into her as she hurried to the buttery. But she could not tell what was in the soul behind them. Did he see something in the way she walked? Had someone accidentally told the Norman enough that he saw a connection between the servant Edyt and the missing lady?
She requested a jug of the deep red wine the Normans had brought with them. A
But where could she have gone?
Alain finished the wine in his horn, and realized that he was beginning to feel the flush. His hand had an odd shake to it as he set the silver-trimmed horn down on the white linen cloth. Too much wine, no doubt.
* * *
"Lady, I did not mean– "
"Hush," said Melisande. "For all that you would help me, you will surely be my death. This is my battle, Gerard."
"But if he should find– "
"If he should, then I tell you, you must leave what happens to me. You cannot divide the knights. And you cannot fight against him without destroying everything I treasure."
"Aye. But do you not think another way might be found? As the lord is not yet wed, mayhap it would be enough if he merely knew why."
"You know enough of Normans, Gerard. Do you think he would be so easily satisfied? This hall will never be truly his without that wedding, and all know it. I will not have it."
A shadow fell between them. Melisande's breath sucked in sharply. Gerard straightened his back, drew his lower lip into a tight line across his teeth. Even within the darkness near the entrance, Melisande could recognize the Norman lord by his shape and the way he walked as he approached. His keen eyes surveyed them both separately and together, and an odd smile quirked at one corner of his mouth.
He wore the purple cloak. He wore it every day, doting on it as much as had her poor mother, and as innocently. And why would he not? The magnificent garment on the magnificent man. Surely he looked more regal than a king.
"Good morrow, Edyt, Gerard. Is aught amiss?"
Her mind raced backward to recapture the last words spoken, that he might have overheard. And she hastily replied.
"Nay, lord, only that I wish Gerard to speak to his knights about bones thrown to the dogs at supper. I will not have it in my– your hall, lord. I beg your pardon, that I should be so bold as to claim it for my own, but– "
Again the corner of his mouth twitched, and his eyes slitted into narrow amusement. "It is naught. As long as you think of it as yours, you will give it good care. Then I agree, Gerard, and my men are equally as guilty. I also do not want bones on the floor of my hall. See to it that the word is known among all those who sup with us."
Melisande watched Gerard's reaction, prayed he would catch the spirit and carry it on.
"Aye, lord, it shall be done." Gerard gave a slight, court bow to the lord. An unusual abruptness marked his step as he turned to leave through the same pair of doors where the Norman lord had entered.
"Gerard," he called. Melisande had seen him do this before. He had caught her off her guard, too, with this trick.
Gerard did not know. But he gave naught away in his face. "Aye, lord?"
"I would have you tell me all the places the Lady Melisande might have gone."
"I know not, lord."
"Mayhap you do not. But I will have from you all those who are related, or who might be friends. We will not get far, to search only within these walls."
"Aye, lord." Again, although with a nearly hidden spark of defiance, Gerard turned and left.
Alain then turned to her. "And you as well, Edyt. Bring me some wine and come to the lord's chamber. I will write the names of all those you know."
"I do not think I can help you very much." But Melisande already knew him for the most determined of men. Resistance only made her more obvious.
She felt his eyes boring into her as she hurried to the buttery. But she could not tell what was in the soul behind them. Did he see something in the way she walked? Had someone accidentally told the Norman enough that he saw a connection between the servant Edyt and the missing lady?
She requested a jug of the deep red wine the Normans had brought with them. A
Similar Books
