Joining (16 page)

That Walter looked like he was about to froth at the mouth, said clearly he was not accustomed to being addressed so by someone he would consider far beneath him. Too bad. If Ellery had learned anything about life, it was to
take what he could, by arms if needs be. What worth was life, after all, if one must grovel and eat dirt, just because some noble, born in his gold-lined bed, said so?

Ellery didn’t mind this job. He had killed others for hire. But he didn’t like being told how to do the deed. He didn’t like being yelled at either. He was a big man, bigger than most. If his size did not make other men hesitant to rail at him, his demeanor did. He had been told that although he was a somewhat handsome brute, he looked meaner than sin. So he was used to being treated with a degree of wariness, if not actual respect.

As for the job in question, that it was a woman he was to kill made only one difference. He had seen her in all her beauty, or rather, seen her sister, who was reputed to look exactly the same, and he had a real fondness for pretty women. He’d kill her well enough, but he wanted her first. But Walter didn’t need to know that, was like to insist that she not be touched other than with a blade.

Cuthred and John weren’t of the same mind and had simply tried to kill her as Walter wanted. But Cuthred had a lousy aim with a bow, and John, well, he hadn’t come back from that monastery.

Truth was, she would have been dead now if Ellery didn’t want a taste of her first, because it would have been easiest to kill her that day on the path near Dunburh, rather than try to take her as he’d done. He was beginning to wonder, though—and not because Walter was railing at them, but because of John’s death—if having her
first was worth the risk he was putting himself and his friends to.

Mayhap he should just hire the whore he was acquainted with to get into Shefford Castle and poison the wench. Then again, he hadn’t tried yet to get into Shefford himself. He would have to see if that was as difficult as Walter was claiming first, ‘fore he decided.

He did have one complaint, though. He didn’t mind not being told why a job needed doing. That was no concern of his. But he did object to not being told all the particulars of a job that might be pertinent to his success or failure.

He said so now, “You should have warned us, m’lord, that the lady is betrothed to an earl’s son.”

“That wouldst have made not a
bit
of difference if you had done the deed when you should have, ere de Thorpe went to collect her. She was the veriest fool, behaving no better than a peasant, even going off into the Dunburh woods alone. She was easy to get at, at any time prior to de Thorpe’s arrival. But since you have thrice bungled the job, she is now like to be guarded more greatly than a queen, especially now she is ensconced inside Shefford.”

Ellery wondered, if she’d been so “easy to get at,” why the arrogant lordling hadn’t done the deed himself. Likely because he was as competent with a blade as he was with the drivel that came out of his mouth.

Of course, he’d yet to meet a “lord” who wasn’t all bluster that hid the veriest coward underneath. He knew there were exceptions out there, true knights who trained diligently and
were quite competent at war and killing. Ellery had just never met one, but then he wasn’t like to, since such men as that wouldn’t need the sort of services that Ellery provided, were quite capable of taking care of such things themselves if needs be.

He didn’t say this to Walter, he said instead, “If she behaved like a peasant before, what makes you think she won’t continue to do so? Methinks she is her own worst enemy. We need not get to her, she will come to us.”

“Would that you could depend on that, but you cannot,” Walter said, though he did seem to be somewhat reassured. “Do not forget there is a time constraint. She needs to die ere the two families are joined in marriage,
not
afterwards. Is that understood?”

“Aye, but we will still be prepared to take advantage of her own foolishness.”

“Suit yourself, but do not fail me in this, or you will know a king’s wrath, as well as my own.”

Ellery burst out laughing, causing Walter to flush a mottled shade of red. Why did petty lords think that invoking the king’s name was like threatening the wrath of God? That might have been the case with the last king, known to be as lionhearted as he was called, but with his weak-kneed baby brother?

Walter, incensed, finally found his voice enough to say, “You dare!”

Ellery waved a dismissive hand, not the least impressed with the lord’s fury. “Threaten me with de Thorpe and I might worry. Even I have heard rumors that he is a knight of worthy note.

But your petty king deals only in intrigue and lies. He is a threat to no one but his own faithful nobles. Now be gone, m’lord, and leave me to plan this murder in peace. I will finish the job I started because I choose to, not because I worry over your displeasure.”

Again Walter was too incensed for words. Stiffly, with all the hauteur of his class, he marched from the room. Ellery couldn’t care less that he had gravely insulted his employer. He’d been paid half the promised fee, and would collect the other half when the time came, from the lord’s hide if need be.

Outside the room, Walter was thinking along the same lines. He had already intended to have the mercenaries killed once they finished the task he’d set them, just as a precaution to assure the job was never spoken of. Now he was thinking he would do the killing of them himself, and enjoy it immensely.

Twenty-one

“You seem much
subdued today, and that worries me,” Jhone said.

Milisant had paused on the circular stairs on their way down to the Great Hall. That she paused to gaze longingly out one of the arrow slits at the countryside beyond Shefford’s outer walls, Jhone tried to ignore for the most part, sure that there was something else bothering her sister, other than her near confinement here.

Trying to ferret out what it was, she continued, “Are you still tired from the trip?”

“Nay.”

The brevity of that answer had Jhone even more worried. “Very well, what maggot are you chewing on?”

Milisant glanced back at her with a slight smile. “If I liked maggots—”

“You know what I meant,” Jhone cut in impatiently. “You also know you cannot hide your distress from me, no matter how much you try.”

Milisant sighed and said simply, albeit in a whisper, “He kissed me.”

Jhone blinked. “When?” “This morn.”

“But that is a good thing—”

“The devil it is,” Milisant snapped back.

“Nay, truly,” Jhone persisted. “Do you not recall our conversation, about the benefits you can have if he desires you? Verily, that he would kiss you when there was no other reason for it but that he wanted to, then—”

“Oh, he had a very good reason for doing so,” Milisant said with remembered anger. “Because he could.”

Jhone stared for a moment, then chuckled. “How silly. Of course that is no reason.”

“’Tis the reason
he
gave.”

“Mayhap, but still not
the
reason.”

“And I suppose you know
the
reason,” Milisant asked in exasperation.

“Do you think about it, the answer will come to you easily enough,” Jhone replied. “Would a man kiss you if he did not
want
to kiss you?”

“I can think of other reasons besides wanting,” Milisant scoffed. “There is the kiss to establish peace, the kiss to establish domination, the kiss to punish, the kiss to frighten, the kiss to—”

“Enough,” Jhone cut in, all but rolling her eyes. “Why do you fight to deny that he could desire you? We decided that would be to your benefit.”

“Nay, you decided that,” Milisant reminded her. “I decided I want no part of his desires.”

Jhone frowned. “You didn’t like his kiss?” Milisant’s blush was answer enough and had
Jhone smiling in relief. “Well, we can at least be grateful you didn’t find it completely horrible.”

“I mind it not when Growls licks my cheek either. Does that mean I
want
him to lick me?”

“The wolf and the, er, Wulf”—Jhone paused to giggle over the similarity of names—“cannot be compared.”

Milisant snorted her disagreement. “Speak for yourself. I find it quite easy to compare Wulfric to a wolf—not
my
wolf, but wolves in general.”

Jhone sighed at that point. “I’ve said it before, but I did not think you would
really
be stubborn about this to the bitter end. Yet you are determined to prove me wrong, aren’t you?”

“Stubborn about what?” Milisant asked defensively. “About not liking him? About not wanting him to kiss me? Jhone, you did not experience the pain he put me through when he broke my foot, the dread and fear of being lame. ’Tis a miracle I walk not with a limp today.”

“I did experience your dread and fear—not the pain, but the horror of your possible lameness. But, Mili, that was so
long
ago. He has become a man since then. Do you honestly think he wouldst cause you that kind of pain today? He is Lord Guy’s son. You know how kind Lord Guy is. How can his son be so different?”

“Easily. I am a prime example of a child who grows to be in no way like either parent.”

“Untrue! I have heard Papa say many a time how much you remind him of our mother.”

Milisant rolled her eyes now. “Because she had a bit of a temper. Think you she behaved otherwise like me?”

“Verily, you are not the best example to use,”
Jhone conceded with a chuckle. “Yet have I spoken with Wulfric when he thought I was you, and he was all things gallant, courteous, knightly—”

“And I spoke with him when he thought I was a lad, and he was all things brutish, arrogant, and surly.”

Jhone threw up her arms in exasperation. “Faugh, I give up.”

“Good,” Milisant just managed to get in before Jhone continued.

“You give new meaning to the word
stubborn.
He is not going to treat his wife like a disrespectful servant, which is what he
thought
you were that day he arrived.”

“Nay, he’ll as like treat his wife worse,” Milisant countered. “Because he
can.”

“Jesu, that really enraged you, that remark of his. I sense that now.”

Milisant snorted. “I couldn’t care less—”

“Mili, do not try to fool me—you know you cannot. Would you rather have heard him say that he looks forward to bedding you? That you tempt him to not wait for the actual joining? Would that not have embarrassed you terribly? And why did he even make such a remark? If you tell me you actually asked him why he kissed you, I will clout you myself.”

“Of course I asked him,” Milisant mumbled. “I was nigh daft from that kiss of his. I asked the first thing that came to mind.”

“Daft?” Jhone asked with interest.

“You know what I mean.”

“Actually, I am not sure,” Jhone replied thoughtfully. “Do you mean daft as in greatly
disturbed? Or do you mean daft as in you felt so many things that you could not sort them out enough to think straight? Nay, never mind, either daft is good, do you ask me.”

Milisant made a low sound very close to a growl. “I do
not
like being unable to put two thoughts together, which is what that kiss did to me.”

“Did I ever tell you about the time Papa’s squire kissed me?”

Milisant blinked. “Sir Richard? And Papa didn’t have him flayed alive?”

Jhone chuckled. “I didn’t tell Papa, of course. No harm was done, after all, and the lad apologized profusely afterwards. I was flattered, truth to tell. But I was already in love with William.”

Milisant leaned back against the wall. “You have a point to make, I suppose?”

“Of course.” Jhone grinned. “When do I not? Being kissed by Richard was of so little moment that it was no different than if Papa kissed me. Like a flea bite, it was nigh forgotten the next day. It stirred no feelings in me. But when William did first kiss me, I nearly swooned, so many emotions did I feel. It was so exciting, Mili. There is just no comparison, what desire can make you feel.”

Milisant was blushing before Jhone had quite finished, but that last remark had her denying hotly, “I do not desire him! How could I want him when I hate him?”

“Mayhap because you do not truly hate him. You want to hate him, there is no denying that. You are giving it every effort. But you are finding it difficult to do so.”

“That sounds good, Jhone, even logical,” Milisant said with dripping sarcasm. “But you forgot to take into account the anger he causes me. He makes me so furious I could spit. Signs that I want him?”

Jhone gave her a hurt look.
“I
am trying to help you, to make this easier for you, but you wouldst rather adhere to your misery.”

“Nay, I wouldst rather find a way to avoid this altogether—which I have said repeatedly now, but
you
fail to listen. Help me out of this joining, Jhone, not into it.”

Jhone put a commiserating hand on her arm. “But I fear there
is
no way out. And I wouldst rather you be prepared and accepting of that fact than face it unprepared and be so very unhappy when the time comes.”