The Everlasting Covenant (18 page)

The insult grew and grew, for Ferris cossetted the lass and
his old nurse pampered her. It was enough if they kept the bothersome child out of Marcella
’
s sight, but as Anne grew older she became more difficult to avoid. And as Anne passed the age of twelve, Marcella was alarmed to see that she had some of those same qualities that had aroused her jealousy toward Daphne: she was small, pretty, docile-natured, and Ferris loved her deeply. Marcella had intended to get her into a convent as soon as Ferris would allow, but the maid had haplessly snared a rich earl
..
. one she didn
’
t even want ..
. just like Daphne deFrayne. Some
times, when she lashed out at Anne and hurt her, it was almost like hurting Daphne, she was hurting the one Ferris loved most.

Learning that Anne had betrayed their cause by an alliance with Daphne
’
s son had nearly killed Marcella. The pain was as real as it had been when she was a girl and tossed on her pallet, weeping, because Ferris longed for Daphne. But the pain had given way to common sense when the sun rose and her head cleared. Anne would watch the hanging. Marcella would end with the rope any notion of Gifford loving deFrayne.

She told herself that it was her husband
’
s fault that all of this was taking place, that all she had ever wanted was Ferris
’
s love. But it was not true. She might have found his loyalty and de
votion, if not his passion, in many actions toward herself and their children. It was because she wanted something greater than his love that she suffered. She wanted him to hate Daphne deFrayne. And he would not. Any way she could hurt the woman would satisfy her
--
by a sharp blade, by a broken heart, through envy, anything.

Marcella signaled a castlemaid.
“
Tell my daughters to attend me,
”
she instructed.
“
Both of them.
”

Marcella called for the master of the guard. She quietly asked him if an executioner had been selected and told him to proceed. She walked into the courtyard alone, waiting for her daughters to join her. She faced the gibbet, her heart pounding. Damn them all, they would allow her this much. She could never have what she really wanted to have, but she would have a little deFrayne blood. And then she would deal with Anne. She would have what she wanted, and that clever little lass would help.

* * *

Dylan was dragged from his cell and into the cold February air. His hands were bound behind his back and he was given no woolen shirt or cape. He squinted painfully from the light. Two liveried guards held him by the upper arms, pulling him roughly along, and he stumbled several times.

He had expected to see one
hundred or more uniformed men-
at-arms lined up to inspect the execution, but there were only about thirty men. He had envisioned a more glorious departure than this, perhaps passing through a tunnel of crossed halberds en route to the platform, but it was a solemn and ill-attended event. Even t
he Gifford knights were absent –
the hanging was to be viewed only by three women dressed in dark clothing. He knew which was Anne, but he did not look at her as the guards dragged him toward the platform.

“
Madam, where are the Gifford men? Are they too squeamish to watch their captive die?
”

“
If he says another word, stuff his mouth,
”
Marcella instructed.

Dylan noticed the other three surviving captives had been brought out and were standing in front of the platform, their hands likewise bound. But there was only the one rope. He looked at Marcella and laughed at her.
“
You will have a busy day a-hanging, mistress,
”
he taunted.
“
I hope you had a stout morning meal.
”

He braved a chance look at the sisters, at Anne. He saw pain and fear in her eyes, but the slightest almost secret smile on her lips. For what reason could she smile? To give him courage? As
surance? He hoped she had not plotted something. But as he won
dered about her expression, a guard did his mistress
’
s bidding and stuffed a dirty linen cloth in his mouth to still his tongue.

He was to be first, it appeared, for they dragged him up the steps and stood him under the rope. The guards feared to release him, and the noose was in the hand of the executioner when the tower horn sounded three blasts. Dylan did not know the code of this castle. He had no idea what the three clarion blasts signified
–
it could be an attack, returning knights, or even a pilgrimage of monks.

Marcella looked toward the gate.
“
Ayliffe, my lady,
”
the guard shouted.

She looked back toward the platform.
“
Proceed,
”
she called.

Anne pushed Divina out of the way and touched her mother
’
s arm.
“
Madam, it is the earl! Wait!
”

Marcella regarded her daughter coolly for a moment, then a slow, evil smile appeared on her lips. Dylan watched from the platform. Marcella looked back toward the executioner.
“
Pro
ceed,
”
she called.

The executioner paused. There must be grave indecision here. Dylan had heard from Anne that everyone but Marcella had opposed this hanging, and knowing a castle as well as he did, he knew that any kind of disturbance in the noble family was heavily gossiped about among the men and the residents. No doubt lounging or dining soldiers and knights had overheard this conflict.

The gate began to creak as it was opened.

“
Proceed!
”

Anne ran toward the gibbet, and Dylan was thankful for the gag that prevented him from crying out to her in warning
.
He silently prayed,
Do not betray yourself, do not.

“
The Earl of Ayliffe approaches,
”
she shouted.
“
He does not approve this execution.
”

The executioner
’
s arms dropped to his sides and he backed away, but the guards maintained their hold on Dylan
’
s upper arms. Anne turned her back on Dylan. She could not trust herself to look at him.

A small troop wearing the Ayliffe tabards and carrying the earl
’
s banner rode slowly into Raedelle, and Anne scanned each face for that of her betrothed, but it was soon clear he was not among them. Their leader was a herald who wore the badges of Ayliffe and York and rode ahead of the group with a scroll. They did not appear to be outfitted for fighting. She could only think that Ferris had reached Brennan and the earl had sent this entourage on his behalf.
“
Who will receive letters from the earl of Ayliffe?
”

There was a stillness as Anne and her mother met eyes. Gifford was Ayliffe
’
s vassal. Ayliffe could not be ignored. It would be
considered treason. Finally Marcella stepped forward.
“
I am Lady Gifford.
”

The herald unrolled his parchment.
“
This is to inform the keep of Raedelle that all prisoners taken in battle by forces of Edward, Duke of York, are to be released into the custody of the Lord Brennan Forbes, fourth Earl of Ayliffe, for transport to the army of York. These prisoners will be ransomed or ex
ecuted, as deemed by his lordship, York, in London. Madam, by his orders. Do you comply?
”

Marcella stood rooted to her spot, speechless. She wished her men would refuse. She would order them to slay the mes
senger if she thought there was any chance they would obey her. But no one in all of Raedelle would chance defying the mighty earl. Finally, after many long minutes, she turned in a swirl of black skirts and fled into the hall. The herald raised a hand toward the Raedelle guards, and the prisoners were dragged forward. There was a good deal of shuffling about as the four men were hoisted, still bound, onto the saddles of palfreys. The herald and a few of his men shared a drink when a bucket and ladle was brought and exchanged brief gossip with the Raedelle guards. And then the troop turned to ride slowly out of Raedelle
’
s gates.

Dylan looked over his shou
lder at Anne. His eyes twinkled;
he had escaped death, but briefly. Now he would be transferred to Edward
’
s army, but with luck and time, perhaps he would defy death again.

Divina followed their mother, but not with the same angry strides. Anne knew from whence her sister
’
s disappointment came, she had failed in her mission to rob Anne of marriage with Ayliffe. Divina
’
s eyes were red-rimmed, and she hung her head in despondency. She must surely know the truth, Divina did not have favor enough to come between her mother and a plan for plenty.

As the Raedelle gates closed Anne crossed herself. She gave
thanks to Brennan and God for Dylan
’
s life.

* * *

Lady Gifford was strangely subdued in her defeat; while Anne had expected a great deal of ranting and raving. The keep at large seemed as if in mourning as each resident crept quietly around. In late afternoon the horn sounded once more and again announced an Ayliffe troop. Anne had to fight panic. Had some
thing happened? Did the troop return the prisoners to Raedelle?

She pulled on a cloak and went to the courtyard, where almost one hundred men wearing the Ayliffe tunics were dismounting and calling to servants and pages to bring drink and take their horses. They were a somber, serious group and Anne wondered if they had experienced some terrible defeat. In the midst of the group she spied Brennan. A page was helping him to remove his armor and mail. Conflicting emotions hit her like a thun
derstorm, and she felt her hands tremble and tears smart in her eyes. She was afraid yet relieved to see Brennan. She knew only one way to conceal her confusion of feeling.

“
Brennan!
”

He turned toward her and she ran to him. He welcomed her with open arms, both surprised and delighted by her reaction, and she embraced him fiercely. He was overwhelmed by this display, but invigorated and thought, briefly, how there was nothing like a battle to endear a man to a woman.

“
There now, little one, you
’
ll choke me.
”

“
I was so worried. Is everything all right? You
’
re not hurt?
”
She began looking him over, turning him around in a very wifely fashion, her eyes scanning the length of his body with possessive concern gleaming in her eyes. Brennan smiled in spite of the bad news he brought, enjoying her behavior more than he could admit under the circumstances.

He stopped her abruptly by grasping her arms.
“
I am fit. Another battle is done, but we were not victorious. Still, Edward hurries on to take London now. Anne, cease, we have trouble. Be still.
”

She stopped her examination and stared into his eyes, having no idea what to expect.

“
Your father fell at Saint Albans. He is dead, Anne.
”

First surprise, then a fierce denial, and then finally a cry of pain came. She collapsed against Brennan
’
s chest. How could it be so? How? Why?

“
Anne, be quiet now. You will have to be strong. We must go to Lady Gifford. I know your father is beloved to you, but your mother has lost her husband. Now, can you come with me?
”

She separated herself from him a little, looking into his eyes.
“
My father loved me,
”
she whispered.

“
I know, my sweet,
”
he said, smiling.
“
But his lady needs to be informed without delay. Come.
”

He put an arm around her shoulders and she struggled to control her weeping as they walked into the hall. Marcella, slow to respond to yet another announcement for Ayliffe, was just descending from her chamber. When he faced her, he bowed.
“
Madam, I bring grievous news. Lord Gifford was killed at Saint Albans three days ago. I have brought him home.
”

Marcella stiffened as if slapped. Her eyes glazed, then teared.
“
He died a noble death?
”
she asked weakly.