Chapter 5
For some reason he could not explain, instead of returning to his chamber after the evening meal, Geoff lingered to observe the knights and men-at-arms gathered in the hall.
Leaning against the rear wall, not far from his chamber, he crossed his arms over his chest, and watched the men dicing, drinking and telling stories of their encounters with the rebels that day.
They were a rough lot, some having newly joined William’s army, among them Flemish mercenaries who came for the plunder and the freedom to pillage.
They were the most dangerous of William’s men for they cared not what destruction they left behind them.
Surely they had been the ones responsible for the boys who had been killed.
A cloaked figure moved in and out of the shadows, drawing Geoff’s attention.
Though the hood mostly covered her head, he could see it was a woman.
By her apparel, a serving wench, but she carried herself like a lady.
As he studied her more carefully, there was something familiar about her.
It was the way she walked with confidence, her head up, her shoulders back.
The young widow… Emma! The only thing missing was the hound.
Why had she come to the castle where so much danger threatened a woman alone?
In the flickering light of the torches, she gazed anxiously around the hall, searching the faces of the men as if looking for someone.
Suddenly her eyes fixed upon one of the mercenaries and she froze.
Like the Valkyrie he had first imagined her, she glared at the knight as her hand moved slowly beneath her cloak to her hip.
In the same manner she had reached for her knife that morning when he’d come upon her in the clearing.
Geoff knew the mercenary she was staring at, a man he heartily disliked, a braggart whose mouth was never silent. Sir Eude de Fourneaux.
It took him but a moment to realize her intent.
Striding toward her, Geoff grabbed her arm beneath her cloak. Their eyes met and at once he discerned her intent. “Do not, lady. Else he would see you dead.”
“I did not come for him, though I would kill him if I could. I came to seek your help if your offer is still good.”
Before he could assure her it was, the man whom she had stalked focused his attention on them.
“What vision is this, Sir Geoffroi? We could happily use another wench this night. One to sheathe my most worthy sword.” Eude’s words were slurred with the drink he had consumed, but his meaning was clear enough.
Eude’s friends laughed and shouted for Geoff to remove Emma’s cloak. “Let us see the prize you have there!”
Without taking his eyes from Emma, Geoff said, “I saw her first, Eude.”
“You could share,” came the lazy retort.
In her eyes, Geoff saw both fear and determination. She would not shy from murder, but with the knights’ attention drawn to her, she knew she was in grievous danger. Conversations broke off as men at the tables paused to observe the confrontation.
Into the silence, he said in a commanding voice, “I never share.”
The mercenary rose, a few of his companions with him. Geoff reached for Emma, pulling her against his chest. She was slender and her resistance fleeting against his knight’s strength. “If you would be spared their lust, do not fight me,” he whispered.
He claimed her mouth as an act of possession, a demonstration to the assembled knights that she was his.
But when their lips touched, it was he who was claimed.
Her mouth was soft and inviting, the taste of her as sweet as summer wine.
The attraction he had felt for her before now surged in his veins.
Urging her lips open, his tongue found the warmth within.
She responded. In the honey of her kiss, his rising passion was echoed in his loins.
Alone in their own world, the kiss continued.
Hearing the jeers behind him, he broke the embrace, though it cost him to do so. Breathing heavily, he stared into her beautiful blue-green eyes.
She shifted her passion-filled gaze to the floor.
Turning to the knights, who had slowed their approach, he announced, “As you see, the lady is mine, I have claimed her.”
“Leave off, Eude,” urged one of the man’s friends. “’Tis Sir Geoffroi you challenge, a favorite of the king. He is the right arm of the Red Wolf and his sword is just as deadly.”
At his words, Eude and his companions lost interest in their mission and returned to their table.
“There are plenty of wenches in the city,” Eude blustered.
At Geoff’s side, Emma stiffened.
He waited until he was certain the other knights would not pursue them, then escorted her to his chamber, his arm tight around her shoulder.
Once inside his chamber, he dropped his arm, walked to the table near the brazier and poured her a goblet of wine. “Here,” he said, handing it to her.
With unsteady hands, she took it and drank, her chest rising and falling with apparent emotion. She had been more nervous than he had initially thought. Mayhap more afraid. Or was she also moved by the kiss they had shared?
No matter the cause, her presence worried him.
Such a beautiful woman should not be out alone, much less in a castle full of men with too few whores to share.
He took in her clothing, that of a servant and ill fitting.
“What could you have been thinking to come to the castle? And how did you gain admittance?”
Holding the goblet between her hands, she stepped to the brazier as if seeking its heat. “I came as a servant. The guards gave me a bit of trouble but apparently the need for serving wenches is great. I answered their questions and they admitted me.”
His brows drew together at the ridiculous notion. “No one would see you as a servant, even in those clothes.”
“Your guards are not so discerning as you,” she said dismissively. “And mayhap not so sober.”
“Where is that great beast that usually follows at your heels?”
“I left him at home. I feared he might be speared by one of your French swords.”
“And so he might have been. As might you.” It concerned him that she had been so foolish. “Why did you come?”
“To seek your help in saving the life of a man taken prisoner. But when I saw the knight called Eude, I could think of nothing else but to kill him for what he has done.” When he raised his brows, she explained, “He raped my friend, Inga, the daughter of Feigr, the sword-maker. When her father tried to protect her, Eude’s companions beat him and took him prisoner.
I assumed they brought him here. I would free him and see Eude dead. ”
“And your life would be lost in the process had you been successful with the mercenary.”
“My anger has cooled but only just,” she said, setting down the goblet and turning to pace. “The man deserves to die!”
“Aye, likely he does. I would not put rape past him. I like him not.”
She paused in her pacing to gaze at him. “Inga was young, untouched,” she explained, her distress showing on her face. “Feigr’s only child and much loved.”
“What would you have me do?”
Her beautiful, tear-filled eyes fixed on him, desperation in their depths. “Find Feigr, save him, protect him, as I will now protect Inga.”
Seeing her tears, he could deny her nothing. “All right. But you must stay here until I locate him.”
“My family will worry. Ottar is still recovering and now I have Inga to see to.”
“I will send my squire to tell them you are safe. Latch the door after I leave. When I return, listen for three knocks. I myself will take you home.”
He went first to Mathieu to dispatch him to Emma’s house, to tell her servants she was safe. Once that was done, he went looking for the sword-maker. He found him with the other prisoners who had been taken that day, now sequestered in a building in the outer bailey.
* * *
Emma paced in Sir Geoffroi’s small chamber, keenly aware she was confined inside the Norman castle where the French knights gathered like wasps around a hive.
The smell of metal, leather and horses filled the room, a masculine smell she recognized as belonging to the blond knight from when he had carried her home from the clearing earlier in the day.
The candles set about the chamber made it seem somehow intimate and, because it was the abode of a Norman knight, more threatening.
Could she trust him to find Feigr and bring him to safety?
Did she have a choice? She could not very well leave on her own now that the creature Eude knew she was here.
To approach him had been a mistake. She would not have succeeded in killing him.
Sir Geoffroi was right to scold her. Surely if she had killed Eude, the other knights would have killed her.
But the mad impulse had seized her when she recognized the monster who had raped her friend.
She touched her fingers to her lips, still swollen with Sir Geoffroi’s kiss.
Since his reason for kissing her had been to protect her, she did not resent it.
But she had not expected to like it so well.
His mouth had been gentle on hers and his tongue…
Oh God. The memory of his seductive tongue exploring her mouth made her tremble even now.
Had it only been for show? Mayhap he had kissed many women. The thought did not please her.
When he had taken her into his arms, she had felt protected, not threatened.
It disturbed her that she should find a Norman so desirable.
She did not like that her reaction to him seemed to steal away the hatred that gave her the strength to fight.
She did not like the way her body still craved his touch.
Her pacing stopped. Would he help her to take vengeance on the one called Sir Eude? She suspected the answer was no. But if she could leave with Feigr, if he were still alive, then she would have accomplished her purpose in coming. The rest she could see to another time.