The Warrior and the Dove - A Short Novel (Medieval Chronicles) (13 page)

“
What!
”
Auden reeled back as if Hugh had struck him, the horror on his face full
testimony to the fact that he had been ignorant of his master’s intentions.

“Nay, my lord.
Never! I thought mayhap he would sell her in marriage to a knight who had
wealth but no lands of his own. Such arrangements are common, and he is always
in need of money, but that
he
—”

“He is always in
need of money? Why?”

Still rattled,
the courier shook his head. “He has expensive tastes, expensive friends. And he
likes to wager. I am usually travelling on some errand or another, but I know
that much.” He eyed Hugh nervously. “Is that all you wished to know, my lord?”

“Aye, you may—”
Hugh broke off when he realized Annith had come up to them. His mouth kicked up
at one corner. He should have known she would not stay put if she had something
to say. “My lady?” he questioned coolly, but he knew she could see wry
amusement in his eyes.

She laid a hand
on his arm, instinctively linking herself to him. “You did well, Auden,” she
said gently. “Thank you for your protection of me. It means more than you
know.”

Auden gulped and
flushed to the roots of his hair.

“Aye,” Hugh
agreed in fairness. “You did do well, Auden, but if you take my advice, you’ll
start looking for another lord to serve once you’ve discharged this errand. You
may look to me for a recommendation if you need it.”

“Thank you, my
lord,” Auden said, brightening. And taking Hugh’s advice for the dismissal it
was, he bowed and scuttled out of the hall.

A short silence ensued
before Will spoke up from the end of the room. “Do you think he can be
trusted?”

Hugh turned and
ushered Annith back to the high table. They sat on a bench so he could keep her
close by his side.

“Given the man
lied to protect my lady, I think so,” he said. “But I was careful not to say
anything that would do more than whet de Beche’s curiosity to know what
happened. And remember I have an advantage. As far as de Beche is concerned,
Annith fled to avoid marrying him. He doesn’t know she overheard his plan to
sell her to his friends before murdering her.”

She shivered
against him and he drew her closer. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. It doesn’t make
pleasant hearing, I know.”

“Nay.” But then
she smiled at him. “Thank you for saying what you did to Auden.”

He grinned. “As
if I had a choice when I could see those same words ready to tumble off your
tongue. But I meant it. With luck, that hapless courier will want a
recommendation badly enough to be lingering at your castle when we get there. I
didn’t want to question him now, in case he’s forced to tell all that was said,
but he’ll know the names of de Beche’s friends.”

“He didn’t seem
to know anything else,” Will observed judiciously.

Hugh started to
answer, then glanced at Annith. “Sweetheart, this changes our plans. I want to
give Auden time to reach de Beche well in advance of us, so we’ll leave
tomorrow. A night at Crofton to ensure all is well there and to tell Martin and
Herleve what’s happened, and we’ll head for your lands the next morning.”

“I would like to
see Martin and Herleve,” she agreed happily, and sent him a mischievous glance.
“But what shall we do this afternoon, my lord?”

Hugh grinned and
kissed the tip of her nose. “You, my love, will go up to our chamber and fetch
your cloak. I’ll take you to visit Prioress Edith so she can see for herself
that you have come to no harm.”

She laughed. “A
happy thought.” She rose to her feet, made a graceful obeisance, and left the
hall.

“You wanted
Annith out of the way,” Will observed as soon as they were alone.

“Aye,” Hugh said
grimly. “I didn’t want to discuss this in front of her. She’s borne enough. But
I agree with you that the courier knows nothing more. I suspect that de Beche
and his cohorts indulged the worst of their vices in secret. They could hardly
have done otherwise. Nor would they have gone so far as to kill every victim.
God knows, serfs and maidservants are forced often enough by masters who see
them as personal property. They have little or no redress. But murder on a
regular basis? Nay. That would have been reserved for special girls. Or girls
taken off the streets of larger towns, mayhap.”

Will grimaced.
“There are plenty of places where a man can satisfy any appetite,” he growled.
“Why take the risk of murdering the poor wretches?”

“From what
Annith overheard, I would guess ’tis innocence and the thought of destroying it
as brutally as possible that excites de Beche. That and watching his victims’
pain and horror.” Hugh’s eyes narrowed. “That messenger is probably more
correct than he knows. De Beche must be beside himself all right, but with rage
that Annith escaped him. She has everything he most desires. Youth, beauty, and
probably more innocence than any girl he’s ever taken. Then there’s her castle
and lands. And on top of that, she’s made him look a fool in front of his
friends. He’ll not only want her at his mercy, he’ll want revenge. He’ll
crave
it.”

“That will make
him more vulnerable to attack,” Will mused.

“Aye.” A grim
smile curled Hugh’s mouth. “’Tis why we’ll be taking our time on the road. The
longer he waits, the more impatient he’ll be. And ’twill give your fellow time
to find Edward and return with a reply. He knows the route we’ll be taking.”

“De Beche may
guess it, also.”

“You’re thinking
he may try to waylay us? Why? He has no reason to think I’m anything but the
duly appointed escort. And I doubt he would be so rash as to go against your
writ. That will probably enrage him further,” he added with satisfaction. “And
just when he thinks everything is restored to him, I’ll tell him Annith is
married to me. That should tip him right over the edge.”

“By the pit! You
want him enraged to the point of madness? Why?”

“Think, Will.
What evidence do we have that Annith’s story is true? ’Tis her word against
his. There are no other witnesses, unless we can turn his friends—and that
isn’t likely since they’re as mired in vice as de Beche. If we call him into
court, he’ll deny everything, and ’twould take months, if not years, to find
people willing to testify about earlier victims. Nor will I have Annith
questioned and her honor impugned, even by implication.”

Will nodded. “I
wouldn’t want Maud to go through that,” he agreed. “Are you sure you won’t need
my help?”

“My thanks,
Will, but nay. I’ll take escort enough to keep de Beche from any rash action
until we’re inside the keep. After that they’ll stop his men from interfering.”

“Well, you seem
to have everything under control,” Will said, rising and stretching. “I’ll leave
you to take your lady to the priory. Don’t be too long there,” he added,
grinning. “I think your innocent little convent-reared lady has other plans for
the afternoon.”

Hugh laughed and
went to find Annith.

Two days later Annith
decided there was one thing to be said for regular horse-riding. The twinges in
her muscles had disappeared. As for other forms of exercise, she certainly had
become accustomed to Hugh in a short amount of time. In truth she’d had such a
glow about her when they’d left Worcester that he had ordered her, with a
wicked gleam, to practise looking downcast.

They had reached
Crofton-on-Severn the previous afternoon, where Herleve and Martin had given
them a warm welcome. Their happy smiles had soon turned to shock, however, when
they had learned why Annith had been trying to reach the priory. Amid
exclamations of horror, they had agreed wholeheartedly to Hugh’s suggestion
that they add to the company, with Herleve posing as Annith’s maidservant.

“A mature woman
in attendance will look better than a young girl,” Hugh had said. “’Twill give
more credence to the assumption that Annith has been properly chaperoned.”

After spending
the night at Crofton castle, they had left early this morning in a rather
different formation to the procession that had travelled to Worcester three
days earlier. Hugh’s standard-bearer was now in the lead, the black and bronze
pennant with its golden lion rampart flying proudly in the breeze. Hugh
followed on his black destrier, but this time Sir Ranulf fitzWalter rode beside
him on a large bay horse. Two men-at-arms were next, then Annith and Martin,
Annith on her grey mare and Martin on another bay with Herleve riding pillion
behind him. Bringing up the rear were several more men-at-arms.

All in all ’twas
quite an impressive display, Annith decided.

“How are you
faring, Herleve?” she asked the older woman.

“There’s a lot
to be said for walking,” Herleve retorted. “But I will do well enough.”

“Aye,” agreed
Martin gloomily. He eyed his horse’s ears as the animal twitched them in
response to his voice. “Who knows what this creature will take it into his head
to do.”

Annith opened
her mouth to answer, but just then Hugh gave the signal to stop and she reined
in her mount.

Hugh wheeled his
horse around and rode back to her. “There’s a horseman coming toward us,
through those woods,” he said. “How far are we from the castle, sweeting?”

Despite her
determination to show no fear, Annith went so tense her horse shifted
restlessly. Leaving Worcester in a glow was one thing. The thought of
confronting de Beche at any moment was enough to smother it completely.

Hugh put out a
gauntleted hand to steady the mare. “He won’t touch you, sweetheart, I swear
it. Just remember to stay as close to the door as possible once we’re inside
the hall. And when I tell you to get out, you get out. Fast.”

She nodded and
glanced around. They had left the road about a mile back to ride directly
across her lands, and now grassy meadows stretched before them with woodland to
the left. “I think ’tis another two miles or more to the castle,” she said in
answer to his question. “I didn’t ride when I was here before, so ’tis
difficult to remember.”

“No matter. If
de Beche posted a watch this far out, whoever it is will be riding to the
castle to warn them, not coming toward us. Ah,” he said as the rider came into
view. “I know those colors. ’Tis Edward’s courier. Will’s man must have given
him our route and gone straight on to Worcester. Wait here,” he said to her,
and cantered off to meet the rider.

Annith watched
anxiously as the two men reined in their horses and spoke for several minutes.
Then the courier handed Hugh a wrapped scroll, saluted him, and galloped off
the way he’d come.

Hugh rode back
to the company, a grim smile curling his lips. “Edward is at Kenilworth,” he
said to Ranulf, who had come up to flank Annith’s other side. “Apparently some
of the barons who escaped after Evesham have gone to earth there. ’Twill
probably take months to starve them out. In the meantime I’m to take Annith’s
castle from de Beche by whatever means necessary.” He unwrapped the scroll as
he spoke and snapped it open with a flick of his wrist.

Under Annith’s
worried gaze, he read swiftly. “Aye. ’Tis as I thought.”

“What?” she and
Ranulf chorused.

Hugh grinned.
“To look at the pair of you one would think we’re about to confront an army
that outnumbers us three to one.”

“Already done
that,” Ranulf muttered. “Don’t want to do it again. Even if we did win.”

“Be easy. De
Beche doesn’t have an army. However, he has always taken care, according to
Edward, to be on the King’s side in any conflict, which means Henry’s and
Edward’s hands are tied.” He glanced at Ranulf. “But mine are not. I’m to look
to my safety.”

Ranulf nodded in
satisfaction, wheeled his horse, and returned to his position.

“You are already
looking to the safety of all of us,” Annith said. “What does the Prince mean by
that?”

“’Tis just his
way of giving advice,” Hugh said lightly. He reached out and laid a hand over hers.
“Don’t fret, sweetheart. I know what I’m doing. And you know how you’re to act.
All will be resolved soon.”

There wouldn’t
be much acting involved, Annith thought, as Hugh returned to the head of the
column and gave the signal to start. She was sure anxiety was already etched on
her face. She knew de Beche would resist arrest by any means to hand. She could
only hope that Hugh had brought enough men to ensure a safe outcome.

*         
*          *

When the castle
came into view a short time later, Hugh had no doubts on that score. There were
only a half dozen men-at-arms on the ramparts and, as they rode in under the
portcullis, he saw no more than ten in the bailey. They were armed but at ease,
swords in their scabbards, bows propped against the walls.

It seemed the
courier had relayed his message convincingly. De Beche was not expecting
trouble.

Hugh dismounted
and went to lift Annith down. As he did so, de Beche appeared at the top of the
stairs leading to the hall. He spared Hugh one hard stare, then began to
descend, his gaze fixed on Annith. Hugh felt the shudder that went through her,
but she stepped back as soon as her feet touched the ground, leaving him free
to put himself in de Beche’s line of sight.

The man hadn’t
changed much, Hugh thought, stripping off his gauntlets and stuffing them into
a saddlebag as de Beche approached. His hulking frame carried more flesh, lines
of dissipation furrowed his face, but there was still power in the bull-like
neck and shoulders. And his eyes held the rapacious excitement of a predator
who knows his prey is at last within reach.

“My lord,” he
said when de Beche reached them. “I am Hugh de Verney of Buckland Manor, here
at the behest of Lord William Beauchamp.”

“I have heard of
you, my lord,” de Beche said curtly. “You are welcome.” He moved to the side so
he could see Annith, and extended a hand, fingers beckoning imperiously.
“Annetta, my dear, I am glad to see you back where you belong. We have all been
very worried about you.”

Annith’s eyes
were downcast, but Hugh knew she was aware of de Beche’s every move. She
stepped back, deliberately disobeying the implicit command. De Beche’s eyes
narrowed, his hand fisted briefly before he lowered it. Feral anticipation was
coming off him in waves. It was under control, Hugh thought, but barely. He
must have been licking his lips at the prospect of raping Annith since he had
first seen her at the priory three months ago. Now fury, spurred by frustration
and delay, raged just beneath his surface urbanity.

“I hope you will
join me for a cup of wine before you leave, de Verney,” de Beche said, his
voice harsh. “So I may thank you for restoring my ward to me.”

Hugh inclined
his head.

“And you, my dearest
Annetta,” he continued, “will wish to retire to your chamber. I believe you
have not been well.”

He reached for
her again, but Hugh forestalled him. “My lady,” he murmured. With a hand at
Annith’s back, he moved her out of de Beche’s path and ushered her before him
toward the keep. It was a gesture that would have been taken as simple
courtesy, but it forced de Beche to the rear.

As they climbed
the stairs, Hugh felt the space between his shoulder blades start to itch. He
knew that only the presence of witnesses was stopping de Beche from plunging a
sword into his back. He allowed himself a grim smile as he walked through the
screen passage into the hall and turned to face his host.

Annith stayed
within touching distance of him, until de Beche walked over to the high table
where a servant was setting out cups and a flagon of wine. Then she took a few
steps back toward the door. The servant fled through another door at the rear
of the hall.

“My thanks, de
Verney,” de Beche said, turning and coming forward to hand Hugh a wine cup. He
lifted his own in acknowledgement. “You have restored to me a treasure beyond
price.” He smiled as his gaze raked Annith from head to toe. “But what is this
tale of a missing memory, my dear?”

“I fell and hit
my head,” she said in a sulky tone.

“I see. And is
your memory now restored?”

She nodded, eyes
still downcast.

“I am happy to
hear it. And thank the saints your injury was not caused by the same sickness
of mind that spurred you to run away in the first place. God knows what dangers
may have befallen you.” He looked at Hugh, brows raised. “I presume my ward
could not travel to the priory after she was injured, and sought shelter at
Worcester castle instead.”

“She was
fortunate that Lord William was in residence,” Hugh said, glancing about the
hall as though the matter was of little interest to him. Apart from the high
table and an enormous chair, there was no other furniture in the room, which
meant, he decided, that de Beche’s friends had quit the place.

“And fortunate,
also, that you were available to escort her home,” de Beche continued. “You are
somewhat out of your way, my lord.”

Hugh returned
his gaze to his host and shrugged. “A day’s ride, no more.” He knew de Beche
was fishing for information. He would want to know what tale Annith had told.
And then he would want to see Hugh on his way.

“Well.” De Beche
smiled, apparently convinced of Hugh’s disinterest. “We shall speak of that
when you are more recovered, Annetta. Be assured you shall be cared for as if
you were my own daughter.”

“Really, de
Beche?” Hugh raised his brows. “You were intending to marry one who stood as a
daughter to you?”

De Beche’s smile
froze. “A figure of speech,” he said coldly, sparing Hugh a brief glance.

“Ah.” Hugh
nodded, and transferred his wine cup to his left hand.

De Beche didn’t
notice. He was too busy studying Annith as though he could drag the truth from
her by the power of his gaze. “Was it our forthcoming marriage that caused you
to flee, Annetta? My poor child, you had only to tell me of your maidenly
fears. I would have been eager to allay them.”

She looked up at
that. “Indeed, my lord? What of your friends? Would you have allayed my fears
about them as well?”

De Beche’s eyes
narrowed. His gaze flicked to Hugh for the merest instant, then returned to
Annith. “I don’t understand you, my dear. My friends were here for the wedding.
Did they make any improper advances toward you? Try to steal a kiss? Accost you
in a dark corner mayhap?”

He was growing
more confident with each question, Hugh thought, knowing Annith could only
answer in the negative. When she didn’t answer at all, he smiled again and
turned to Hugh, hands spread. All gracious apology. All eagerness to explain,
to show indulgence for female megrims.

“My lord, ’tis
easy to see what happened here. The dear child suffered a fit of nerves brought
on by our forthcoming marriage. She would not be the first. What can I say?”

“You could tell
me how you were going to explain the death of another wife so soon after the
wedding, de Beche.”

The man’s face
went slack with shock, his hands fell to his sides. He stared blankly at Hugh
for a moment then shook his head, as if shaking off a blow. “I don’t know—”

“Aye, there is a
lot you don’t know.” Hugh glanced up at the wall above the high table. “About
this castle for instance.” When de Beche followed his gaze, he continued
softly. “Things like hidden rooms and spyholes and secret stairs. Which means
nothing stays secret for long if someone thinks to listen.”

De Beche swung
around, his breathing harsh. “You speak in riddles, de Verney. I don’t know
what lies you’ve been told or by whom. Was it a servant? Impossible. My
courier?
Auden!
” he roared suddenly, the sound rebounding off the walls.

Hugh saw Annith
flinch but she took a step forward. “Do not blame your courier,” she said,
biting off each word.

De Beche gaped,
stunned anew by the abrupt change in her. No sulky defiance or meekness now.
Eyes blazing, she faced him as though every crusading knight in her ancestry
stood at her back. Contempt and disgust coated every word with ice. “’Twas I
who heard your plans for me. I who heard you gloating with your friends over
your depravity and vice.
I.
”