Chapter Eleven #2

put her palm to Lara’s forehead. “Are you feeling all right?

Because I’m fairly certain you just said something nice about the

captain.”

Lara playfully slapped Berta’s hand

away. “I could stay here in the kitchens with you, Tante,” she

pled, her grin dripping honey.

“No.” Berta picked up the

fork and knife. “Now they’ve seen you, they’ll be looking for you

and wondering why you stopped serving.”

“You’re right.” Lara

huffed. “I should’ve slit Ranulf’s throat that day instead of his

chin. I could’ve buried him in the woods, and nobody would’ve ever

known.”

“You would have.” Berta

pointed the knife tip at Lara.

“Aye, well.” Lara hoisted

a platter of cold ham. “I still say it would’ve been worth

it.”

Apparently, Nithard had taken control

of his son, because Ranulf kept quiet and only insulted Lara with

his sulking scowl as she set the platter of ham down. Both the

count and his son wore the full Roman robes they’d worn at Mallus

and looked rather foppish compared to the captain and his men in

their leggings and jerkins. Lara had never seen the captain in a

robe, but assumed he owned one, for he’d been at court with kings,

a thing she had to admit intrigued her about him.

That he intrigued Ravenna, who wore a

body-skimming gown of red silk with a low-cut bodice, was as

obvious as the woman’s preening smiles as she leaned forward to

face him and afford him a better view of her charms. That he

steadfastly ignored her smiles and her charms gave truth to

Patience’s assertion that Ravenna wasn’t his wildcat, which somehow

made Ranulf’s leers easier for Lara to stomach.

The main course done, the captain and

the count started making their plans for the march to meet Charles

and the returning army. Serving the honeyed berries, Lara heard

them discussing a cook’s wagon. The captain’s company didn’t travel

with one, so the count would have to provide one.

“There is a retired

soldier the next province over who I’ve heard will hire himself and

his wagon out,” Nithard told the captain.

“One cook for our twenty

and your fifteen?” The captain speared a berry. “He’ll need a

helper.”

“Begging your pardon,

Captain.” Lara formed a plan as she spoke. “I know of a lad who

would hire out as a cook’s helper to serve out his season of

military duty.”

“Go on,” the captain

said.

Lara glanced down at the platter of

meat scraps. “His name is Hamm. He’s the only son of a widowed

mother who taught him how to cook.”

“Does he cook as well as

you?” Phillipe asked, and Lara froze, fearing he’d seen right

through her crazy plan. Then she remembered how he’d eaten her

cooking at her house the past few days.

“Almost,” she

said.

“Then I say aye,” Phillipe

told the captain. “Hire the lad and ease his widowed mother’s

worries.”

“You would,” a harsh,

hoarse voice rasped. All eyes, all ears, turned to Fulrad, who sat

at table to sup with the company for the first time since his

injuries. “You would know,” he rasped louder. “You were up in the

captain’s chamber with her every night he was gone, tasting her

cooking.” He jerked his head toward a horrified Lara. “I seen you.

Hell, everyone here seen you following her around by day and going

up to her chamber by night, they’re just too afraid to tell the

captain.”

The hall was silent but for the

scraping of Phillipe’s chair as he stood.

“It was by the captain’s

orders that I stayed by Lara’s side during the day.” He spoke

slowly, clearly, to the room at large, then he turned to the

captain, whose jaw was set as hard and unyielding as stone. “After

supper, we played Shah in your chamber before I came back down each

and every night.”

The captain nodded wordlessly at

Phillipe before glancing at Lara, his expression

inscrutable.

“You, Fulrad.” The captain

kept his voice as steady as his glare. “You have slandered my good

friend and comrade, as well as my lidi, who has done nothing but

serve me and my men well. You are no longer welcome at this table.

Leave it. Now.”

“I am the king’s cousin.”

Fulrad puffed his chest out. “You cannot ban me.”

“Try me,” the captain

said, and for the first time since Lara had known Fulrad, he made

the smart choice and said nothing. “Now go,” the captain told him.

“Go find your corner to squat in and remain there until I return

with your cousin the king. Then he may deal with you.”

Lara shook as Fulrad pushed himself up

onto his crutches and hobbled over to his pallet, muttering curses

under his wheezing breath. When she looked back to the table, the

captain was watching her, the telltale scar on his cheek gone

white. With a quick bob of her head and a dip of her still-shaking

knee, she turned and walked as fast as she could without actually

running to the kitchens.

With Wolf at her side, she pushed open

the kitchen door to the outside and then she did run, straight for

the roasting pit. Sitting on the bench, she poked at the fire’s

embers and Fulrad’s vile accusations, at the captain’s expression

before he heard Phillipe’s explanation, and how the captain had

believed Phillipe without hesitation. Worried he wouldn’t have

believed her so readily, not after she’d practically thrown her

naked self at him. Which she tried desperately not to think

about.

Instead, she thought about how she’d

set herself up to pose as a lad, a cook’s helper, who would be

marching with the captain’s and the count’s company of men to meet

the king’s army. How once the march was completed, she would have

fulfilled a season of military duty in lieu of Fulrad, and how the

king himself would have to declare her wergeld paid and her freedom

earned.

The slow thump, thump, thump of Wolf’s

tail interrupted her musings. Looking up from the embers, she saw

the captain walking toward them and hoped he couldn’t see her face

in the dark. If she looked as guilty as she felt, she’d be a dead

giveaway.

“Here you are.” He didn’t

sound angry, but Lara thought it good to apologize

nonetheless.

“I’m sorry, Captain,” she

said. “I know I shouldn’t have left the hall without asking your

permission.”

“Don’t worry about it. It

was probably the smart thing to do.”

“May I quote you on that

for Sophie when she hears about it?” And she would.

“You may.” The captain

offered a slow smile in the fading embers of the fire, and she

smiled back at him, relieved. The whites of his teeth disappeared,

and he coughed once. “Will you return to our chamber with me? I’ve

a hankering to play a game of Shah, and Phillipe says you’re a

quick learner. I’ll even share my pie.”

***

Talon

Talon sat across the game board from

Lara, his castle in eminent danger from her knight. Phillipe was

right, she was a quick learner and a smart player, if a bit

impetuous. Charles always said you could tell much about a person

by the way they played, and Lara played like quicksilver, quick

thinking and mercurial, and cursed beautiful leaning over the board

with loose tendrils of auburn framing her face, her brow furrowed

in concentration.

She took his castle, and he allowed

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.