Lords of the White Castle (51 page)

'Then why did you not come sooner?' She could not help herself, she had to say the words although she had promised herself that she would not cling.

'Because I offered Llewelyn my sword and he accepted. I've been in the field, chasing his enemy Gwenwynwyn for the past fortnight.'

Maude eyed him sidelong. 'So you will serve Llewelyn as a mercenary?'

'As far more than that,' he said, and now there was a glow in his eyes. 'He is going to help me regain Whittington, and then I will hold it for him as his vassal.'

'Is that wise?'

He made a wry face. 'Since I have renounced my fealty to John, I am free to give it elsewhere.' Bleak humour flashed in his eyes. 'Marcher barons are a law unto themselves. There have always been alliances between the Welsh and the border Normans when it has suited both parties.' Leaving the bed, he paced restlessly to the window and looked out. 'I've brought sufficient men with me from Wales to take Whittington.'

She studied the straight set of his spine, the way he braced one arm on the wall and clasped his sword hilt with the other, fingers tapping an unconscious rhythm. The room seemed too small to contain his energy. Emotions surged through her: fear, love and pride. She concealed the former, pushing it firmly to the back of her mind, and allowed the latter two to shine in her voice as she threw back the covers and came to him.

'That is good news,' she said softly, her hand on her belly. 'Our first child will be born there.'

He swung round and stared with widening eyes. 'You are with child?'

'So Emmeline says, and I cannot doubt her since I have all the signs.'

He reached out and gathered her into his arms. Then, as she gasped at being squashed against the hard metal rivets of his hauberk, he let her go as if she were scalding him. He looked down at her belly as if expecting to see it swell before his eyes. 'When?' he asked.

'Around Candlemas, I think. Are you not pleased?'

He swallowed. 'Of course I am pleased,' he said huskily. 'And terrified too.'

'Terrified?' Maude suppressed the reply that it was she who should be terrified since the burden of carrying and bearing fell to her.

He laughed without humour. 'A few months ago my responsibility was to my brothers and myself. Then I married you, and now you are with child.'

Maude folded her arms beneath her breasts. The movement made her realise how tender and sore they were. 'You could have chosen not to do so,' she said huffily.

'Oh Christ, I didn't mean that. I have no regrets on that score, nor ever will.' He went to grab her again, gazed at his hands as if they were clumsy appendages, and lowered them. 'I want to protect you, I want to keep you safe from all harm, and, so fierce is the desire, I am afraid I am not equal to upholding it.'

'I have told you I am not made of glass,' she said, going into his arms and drawing them around her waist. 'The only mistake you make is in underestimating us both. I am as strong as sword steel; you are my shield. We will not fail.' She pulled him down to her and kissed him. The smell of horse and sweat engulfed her but she revelled in it, the pungency reinforcing the joy of having him back.

'Are you going to unarm, or is this a fleeting visit before you abandon me again?' she asked a trifle waspishly, and nipped his ear.

'I didn't abandon you!' he protested.

'It felt as though you had.' Maude deftly unlatched his sword belt. 'I expect you to make amends.' Her breath grew pleasantly short with anticipation.

'Amends,' he repeated softly, and his glance flickered to the bed, the covers invitingly pushed back where Maude had left them. He began to smile. 'I do not think that will be too difficult a task.'

Maude narrowed her eyes. 'Do you not?' she said softly. 'We shall see.'

'Well,' Fulke said, tugging on a strand of Maude's hair,' you are right. I have never met a woman so abandoned in all my life.' He yelped as she poked him in the ribs. The bedclothes were rumpled and half strewn on the floor, and tangled amongst them were various items of discarded clothing. 'Have amends been made to your satisfaction, my lady?'

She stretched sinuously and gave him a wicked look through her lids. 'What if I say no?'

'I will consider you the greediest woman alive.'

'I am,' she murmured, and ran a finger down his bicep. 'I do not think you know the depth of my appetite.'

As if in response, her stomach rumbled loudly. She had eaten nothing but oatcakes that morning and it was past noon now. Queasiness lurked in the background, but it was a minor discomfort compared to the ravening hunger brought on by the relief of Fulke's return and a bout of intense lovemaking.

Fulke laughed. 'Well, if I cannot satisfy it, I'd best find you a man who can,' he said. Drawing on shirt and tunic, poking his feet into his shoes, he headed for the door.

'Where are you going?' Maude propped herself up on her elbows.

'To see the cook, of course. What do you think I meant?'

Maude threw a bolster at him. Rising, she drew on her chemise and began to comb her hair, going over to the window. The courtyard was full of soldiers making camp: Fulke's men and Llewelyn's, the latter barelegged, the older ones amongst them sporting impressive moustaches. Many of them carried longbows of yew and ash, formidable weapons that were little enough to look at, but deadly in use. She shivered at the thought of the fighting likely to come.

Fulke returned with a large wooden platter of roast hen, bread, cheese and wine. Maude's mouth watered. Suddenly the hunger was too much to bear and almost before he had put the platter down she pounced, grabbed a portion of hen and bit into it ravenously.

Fulke eyed her with mock trepidation. 'Thank Christ that you did not bite me like that,' he said.

'You escaped lightly,' she retorted through a mouthful, then paused, her gaze switching to the door where Philip was hovering on the threshold.

Fulke followed her look and beckoned. Hesitantly Philip entered the room, his glance tactfully avoiding the story told by the strewn bedclothes and Fulke and Maude's state of undress.

'What is it?' Fulke asked.

'I thought you should know. Arfin Marnur's below -just returned from Shrewsbury with some interesting news.'

A gleam of interest lit in Fulke's eyes. Even as Henry Furnel had his henchmen and spies everywhere, so Fulke had his own sources of gathering information and Arfin was one of them. 'I'll come down,' he said. 'What sort of news?'

Philip's rather thin mouth softened in a smile. 'Apparently Gwyn FitzMorys is in Shrewsbury to see Furnel the under-sheriff. He's got half the knights of the Whittington garrison with him. They're planning a foray to capture you.'

Fulke set aside his food and began donning his chausses. 'Excellent,' he said, grinning fiercely.

'Excellent!' Maude cried, looking at him in horror. 'They're planning to take you and you say excellent!'

Fulke finished dressing and came round the bed to give her a smacking kiss. 'Of course. Gwyn FitzMorys has split the Whittington garrison. While he chases himself up his own backside, I'll be paying Weren a visit!'

His step lithe and energetic, he bounced from the room and clattered down the stairs. Maude shook her head. Clinging on for the wild ride was proving more exhausting than she had thought.

CHAPTER 27

In the first light of a summer dawn, Fulke rode out of Babbin's Wood and entered Whittington at the head of a host of Normans and Welsh.

Limewashed daub and wattle dwellings grew out of the grey half-light, smoke rising from newly awakened cooking fires. A dog howled in warning and set up an answering clamour from other dogs in the village. Folk peered out of their cot doors, then slammed them and knelt to pray. But Fulke's army ignored the settlement, and rode on to the painted timber keep.

One of the gates was wide open to admit an early delivery of firewood and the guard who should have been on the wall walk was slouching on his spear and talking to the carter. Had he been at his post he -would have seen Fulke's men sooner than he did. As it was, he had time for just one bellow of warning before three Welsh arrows brought him down across the open entrance. The carter fled. Fulke and William thundered forward to secure the gates.

After that, the fight for Whittington was brief. Caught unawares, the soldiers of the garrison swiftly yielded and were herded into a sullen knot in the corner of the bailey. Fulke commanded his men to shut the gates and take position on the wall walks. William took a detail and searched the hall and storehouses lest any FitzMorys troops were hiding, waiting to spring an ambush.

Fulke was elated at how simple it had been. He had expected to fight hard for the keep. Some of his success was sheer good fortune, but he owed most of the easy victory to the laxness of Weren FitzMorys's command. Only one guard on duty and in the wrong place. Fulke was aware that even as squire of fifteen he could have done better.

There was a scuffle from the direction of the hall, and William returned, dragging a woman by her drab-coloured cloak. At least Fulke thought it was a woman until William tore off her wimple, revealing unbecomingly cropped hair and the frightened features of Weren FitzMorys.

'I found this tasty wench skulking in the bower,' William declared with a wolfish grin. 'Fortunately for "her" my appetite for rape seems to have vanished.'

Fulke's own mouth twitched and he had to fight not to laugh as he rode up to the captive.

Weren FitzMorys was crimson with chagrin and fury. 'You'll pay for this!' His attempt at a snarl ended on a whimper.

'We all get what we deserve in the end,' Fulke replied coldly. 'If you had set a better watch and been less negligent, you would not be standing before me now in a maid's dress… or perhaps you would?' he taunted.

Weren looked as if he might weep. 'When Gwyn returns, he'll deal with you!' he threatened in wavering tones.

Fulke raised a scornful eyebrow. 'If you can only issue threats on another's behalf then indeed you are rightly attired.' He nodded to William. 'Put him out of the keep with the garrison… and, for decency's sake, give him his wimple back.'

'My pleasure,' William grinned.

A weeping Weren FitzMorys was marched to the wooden doors of the keep and thrust out wearing the garments in which he had tried to conceal his identity. The garrison was allowed to depart in a more dignified manner. Any other servants and retainers who desired to leave were permitted to do so unharmed.

Silence fell. Slowly Fulke dismounted. He had an urge to shout his name and hear its resonance bring the timbers to life. He almost felt as if such a cry would break a spell and that former FitzWarin inhabitants would come pouring out of the buildings in welcome, his father leading them.

William, sober now, knelt to kiss the damp earth of the courtyard floor. Seeing the gesture, Fulke lifted his spear, its head adorned by the red and gold FitzWarin banner, and presented it to his brother.

'Go and fly this from the battlements, Will,' he commanded. 'Let everyone know that once again there are FitzWarins at Whittington.'

Fulke brought Maude to Whittington later that morning. She had been waiting for him in Babbin's Wood with an escort of six knights, there to protect her and remove her from harm's way should the taking of Whittington end in disaster. But it hadn't, and his heart was bursting with joy and fierce pride as he kissed her and set her on her mare to bring her home.