Faerie (27 page)

Leonie raised her bow. She had two arrows left. That was all she needed.

“Nay,” said Philippe, his hand coming out to stop her. His voice had lost its fury, and he touched her almost gently. He turned back to the problem below. “What do you want, Durham?” he shouted down at the armed men below.

The bishop sidled his horse away from his warriors and rode forward with Fulk at his side.

“My apologies for my overeager soldiers, Peregrine,” shouted the bishop. “I fear they misunderstood their orders.”

“My condolences on the poor quality of your vassals,” Philippe answered. “Again I ask, what do you want, that you come at us prepared for battle? Have you forgotten the king’s command that forbids any Norman to take up arms against another Norman castle?”

“You misread me, Peregrine. We only come prepared, for these are troubled times. Mayhap you would show us the hospitality of your walls, where I can explain our visit more easily.”

“I think not. I say again, Durham, what do you want?”

The bishop turned in his saddle to face Fulk, and they exchanged words Leonie could not hear.

“What, are you after my fair bride again, Fulk? You are too late. We said our vows yesterday and the bride ale was celebrated by the entire village. ’Tis best you go find yourself another bride. If you wait for this one, you will be greyer than your bishop beside you.”

“I come only to talk with her, Philippe le Peregrine,” the bishop answered. “You must let me in, for it is her soul that is at stake.”

Leonie leaned over the parapet. “I confessed my sins only yesterday, Your Grace,” she said. “I believe my soul is safe for now.”

“Lovely Lady Leonie, only allow me a few minutes to talk with you. I must be satisfied. I could not allow you to condemn yourself by your ignorance.”

“I think I could fight him off,” she said to Philippe in a voice she was sure could not be heard below.

“You will not. He’s a bishop, and no young man, but he is a fine warrior.”

“We cannot refuse him. He will excommunicate you for it.”

“He will do that anyway, but God will side with right. I will not risk you.”

“Philippe, I know you can protect me from him. You have made that clear. Let us make it so there is no danger, and if we can speak to him away from Fulk, we might change his mind. He would not desecrate the chapel, so let him meet with me there.”

Philippe’s eyes darkened beneath his frowning brow as he regarded her. Whether he sighed or his exhale was more of a snort of disgust, she could not say. But he turned back to the wall and looked down at the Norman knights near the gate.

“The bishop may dismount and give over all his weapons and his helm to his squire. All others will ride down the hill to the far side of the village and stay within our sight, and then the wicket gate will be unbarred. The bishop will be granted entry through it.”

Durham stiffened in his saddle. “You cannot expect me to abide by such demeaning terms, Peregrine. We will ride through your gate.”

“You will not. You will face Lady Leonie of Bosewood with your hands bare of weapons and your head as free to the air as our Lord God made it, or you will not face her at all.”

“And who will protect me from such brigands as Philippe le Peregrine?”

“God will protect you if you are in the right,” Philippe sneered back. “And I will defend you from brigands myself if God will not.”

Passing instructions to his knights to shoot any who made an attempt to follow the bishop through the small wicket within
the heavy wooden gate, Philippe shuffled rapidly down the steps, Leonie following, to await the meeting of their terms and greet the bishop as he stepped through the tiny wicket gate beneath the barbican.

“Whatever you do, don’t let him into the upper bailey, Leonie. I don’t want him to see our new wall.”

Leonie nodded and stepped forward, snuggling her bow into its place on her shoulder. One look at the man’s sharpened gaze reminded her of his fury moments before. She hastened to the tiny stone chapel and found her place inside its cool darkness, close to the small door near the altar. She waited.

Soon the paired doors parted and the bishop stepped from the bright light into the dim chapel, Philippe behind him.

She dropped a quick but proper curtsy to the bishop, who turned to glare at Philippe. Philippe folded his arms and planted his feet in a battle stance.

“Come near to the altar, Lady Leonie, that we may speak in private,” the bishop said.

Leonie sidestepped his attempt to grasp her arm. “It is not necessary, Your Grace,” she said. “I have no fear of anyone here.”

“Yet, dear girl, did you not say this very man who has forced you into marriage assaulted you brutally in Brodin Forest?”

She drew in a thick breath. She had been afraid he would bring that up. Yet she wondered how he could have known. How could even his spies have reached him with that information so quickly?

“My mind was muddled by the blow to my head, Your Grace, but it is clear now. Philippe le Peregrine did not harm me.”

The bishop’s jaw dropped open. “It cannot be,” he said. But he composed himself again. “Women can be so easily influenced and misled. They have not the sense to see such things clearly. Come with me, girl, and I will see you protected, else he will surely kill you.” He reached for her again.

Instinctively, Leonie dodged away and stepped behind the altar rail. “He is my husband now, and is so by the king’s command, Your Grace. I would do his bidding even if I did not wish it, but I do.”

“You say this because he is so close. He must leave.”

“Nay.”

“’Tis not a legal marriage, and you are living in sin. Your very soul is in danger. You did make your promise, and in God’s eyes, that is binding.”

“I made no such promise.”

“Dare you contest the word of the saintliest warrior in all Christendom, lady? Dare you call him a liar?”

“I only say he is most mistaken. He listened poorly. I said nothing that could be construed as a promise. My cousin and my aunt’s ladies were within hearing, and they will vouch that I tell you the truth.”

“You said you would marry him if the king gave his consent.”

“I did not. I said only I would marry whoever the king chose for me. I have no choice in the matter. I said it then just as I say it now. Surely both you and he know that to be so, so why would I make any promise I could not keep?”

The bishop’s eyes gleamed strangely and he stared so hard at her eyes she felt the urge to turn and run. “You encouraged him to make his plea to the king.”

She fixed her own gaze back on him and stood tall, for she was tall enough to look him squarely in the eye. “Nay, Your Grace, I did not even say that much. I said very little, in fact, as Fulk talked and I merely listened.”

“You nodded your agreement.”

Leonie took a deep breath, remembering Fulk’s strange persistence. So this was the impression he meant to give, to support the claim he made now. “I shall be blunt, Your Grace. Not even
a nod. I did not wish to marry Fulk then and did not want him to go to the king. And I do not wish to be married to him now.”

The bishop continued his fierce stare as if he could drill his words into her. “Your mind has gone daft, lady. Aye, you cannot remember the very accusation you made against this despicable man, who only a greedy and uncaring guardian would ever choose for you. I must fight for your soul, for you cannot.”

Nay, it was the bishop who was daft. Why? Would he say whatever would please his vassal? Was the knight the bishop’s vassal, or was it reversed?

“I beg you, do not,” she said. “I am content.”

“This is an unholy alliance. I will complain to the Archbishops of York and Canterbury and have the marriage declared invalid.”

“If you do so, Your Grace, you do it without my consent and against my will. This conversation has come to an end.”

For a moment as he stared at her, she thought he looked as if he might finally have heard her. But then his face turned angelically cajoling. Too much so. It didn’t fit.

“Walk with me to the gate, then, lady,” he said sweetly, his voice softened and quiet. “’Twould be only mannerly to do so.”

“She will not walk anywhere with you,” Philippe responded, dashing up from the back of the chapel.

Leonie blinked. It seemed this husband of hers had unusually good hearing, to understand such low-spoken words.

The bishop grabbed her wrists. “I’ll not leave her here!”

“Then you’re a dead man.”

Leonie launched her knee upward to the man’s groin, and the surprised bishop yelled and lost his grip. She dodged and slipped sideways before the bishop could recover. Philippe stepped between them and shoved the bishop across the chapel and through the doors. Leonie held back, following cautiously out of the bishop’s reach.

Once out in the bailey, Philippe drew his sword and forced the bishop toward the barbican. “If you touch her again, Durham, I will count you the aggressor, committing an act of war against me and my property. Hugh!”

Hugh’s men surrounded the bishop. Philippe didn’t even have to give his order, for the men pressed forward, leaving a path only in the direction of the wicket gate.

“You will all burn in Hell for this! You, Leonie of Bosewood! Repent or I shall see you both excommunicated!” The bishop kept walking, his arms waving wildly, and with each step, Hugh’s men filled the gap behind him, forcing him ever forward.

“I think not,” Philippe replied, all but growling. “But if you think you can, do what you will.”

The bishop was still screaming as he stepped through the tiny wicket gate within the bigger gate, and could be heard even as it was bolted behind him. Leonie breathed easier.

“Do you expect them to attack?” Leonie asked Philippe.

“Part of his purpose was to test our defenses. That’s why I did not want him to see the double wall we built in the upper bailey. He already knew we’re severely undermanned and under-armed, which is why he held off until he knew de Mowbray was gone.”

He turned to his lieutenant. “Hugh,” he said, “send a man to de Mowbray. We’ll hope he can get through. Set men to arming the parapets. Finish that second wall quickly. That will save us if anything does.”

“I’ll gather the women to help with making arrows,” Leonie suggested.

“Nay, prepare the stores for a siege. We’ll have to take in all the villagers, so they must learn how to fight a siege. Have them bring all their stores and animals, or all of us will starve.”

“They are still cutting the chaff,” said Hugh. That could mean they wouldn’t have enough fodder to keep the stock alive.

“Aye.” Philippe sounded so grave she wondered just how serious he thought their situation was. “You must not leave these walls, even with a guard,” he said. As she opened her mouth to protest, he touched his finger along her lips. “Listen to me. Not even for a moment. Not at all.”

He turned away, for he had more than enough to do to prepare for a siege on such short notice. If she did anything but help him, she could be destroying all of them. Quickly she passed his orders to Cyne and the others.

She had decided the bishop was insane. That was the only thing that explained his strange behavior. Or could he be perfectly sane, but had something to gain and needed this insane justification for it? What could possibly be so important that he would take such steps? Although she had inherited a handsome demesne, she herself was not all that valuable. Was it the siting of this castle? Philippe had said the river pass it guarded was vital to the defense of the North from the Scots. But Malcolm had twice taken his army down the eastern coast through Alnwick, even to Durham. Why would he bother going through the mountains?

Leonie closed her eyes, imagining armies marching, one through the mountains, another other along the coast. A third, the king’s Normans, coming up from the south.

Caught in the prongs between the two from the north. Rufus would be trapped. So Durham really was aligning with the Scots.

B
OSEWOOD WAS NOT
a large castle, but it was what they had, and Leonie was grateful for it. For the remainder of the day, the women of the village brought their stores and necessities into the castle, preparing for a siege. The men remained in the village to complete the harvesting. They might need every bit of it to survive. Hugh’s and Philippe’s foot soldiers continued their work on the second palisade hidden behind the original one.

The women went into the woods and cut fine, straight branches from the pollarded trees for arrows, while the children gathered round rocks from the riverbed for slings. The forge fires burned night and day, making new arrowheads. Many a fine chicken would soon be losing its preening feathers to fletch arrows.

Leonie did as she was told and stayed within the castle. Truth to tell, she could not have left, for every minute of the day the Peregrine knew exactly where she was. In a time of lesser danger, she might have rebelled, but she’d had her taste of the dangerous knights of Durham and knew Philippe would be the one they would kill if they could. At least they wanted her alive. And more and more, she was beginning to believe Philippe would willingly die to protect her.