“You are making me mad for the want of you,” he murmured against her lips. “I shall never have enough.”
She laughed softly, returning his kisses with equal passion. “I do not want you to ever gain enough. I want you to crave me, need me, lust for me.”
“I already feel all of those things and more. How cruel you are to wish torture upon me.”
“‘Tis torture for me as well. I doubt I shall sleep tonight, thinking of your wonderful kisses and magnificent touch.”
He kissed her one last time, tenderly, before disengaging himself. “I want you to sleep,” he said quietly, the warmth in his eyes reaching out to stroke her like a gentle caress. “I want you to sleep and dream of me.”
The door opened and he took a step into the corridor. Arissa’s soft voice made him pause, turn towards her.
“My dreams have already come true. All else is excessive.”
He gave her a wink. “Dreams of our passion will never be excessive. It is beyond the comprehension of mere mortals.”
He did not leave until she shut the door and bolted it. Hearing his boot falls fade down the torch-lit hall, she couldn’t help the ecstatic smile that graced her lips. A smile that moved through her body, sending bolts of joy though her limbs until her feet began to move.
Arissa spun in aimless, euphoric circles until she could no longer stand. Even then, she simply lay on the floor and giggled like a fool.
*
In spite of her vow to lament Richmond’s absence, Arissa slept like the dead. A deep, dreamless sleep that was invaded by shouts and commotion from the bailey. She burrowed under the coverlet in an attempt to escape the irritating noises, but they grew louder and more harried until Arissa finally tossed back the covers in groggy frustration.
Her room was nearly dark as she fumbled for the flint and candle. After a few unsuccessful attempts, she managed to light the small tallow taper. The temperature was icy as she climbed from the bed, moving towards the oiled cloth covering the long lancet window that overlooked the bailey. Pulling back the cloth, she peered into the early dawn.
An extremely heavy fog had descended during the night, coating all things with a dusting of mist. She could barely see the wall from where she stood, shrouded in a thick gray haze. But she was acutely aware of the soldiers upon the battlements, dark shadowy figures, racing about in apparent urgency. The bailey, too, was alive with more soldiers than she had ever seen and she was understandably curious.
It was as if they were preparing for something, or someone, but she couldn’t imagine who would be visiting Lambourn this time of the morning. There was a level of frenzy to the activity that she had never seen before, an anxiety she could nearly touch. Her curiosity mounted as she watched the tumult and she seriously considered leaving the privacy of her bower to seek her answers. If they weren’t going to let her sleep, then she was determined to know what was going on. Mayhap Richmond was running the men through another drill, which was not uncommon. He believed in keeping the men under his command fit and prepared.
She frowned as she realized Richmond to be at the head of the commotion. It was most likely just another military exercise and her frustration with him mounted. When he came to escort her to the morning meal, she was going to give him an earful for disturbing her sleep. Her anger with him grew as she watched companies of soldiers mount the battlements, armed to the teeth with crossbows and weapons. Then, a barrage of flame arrows lit up the early morning sky.
Arissa shrieked in terror, watching as the arrows roared over the top of the wall, pelting the bailey below with their heat and death. Most landed in the dirt, a few struck targets, and the entire horde of soldiers and knights swung into action.
The unmistakable sounds of a battle filled the air, the distant sounds of destriers screaming and men shouting their confusion and excitement. The battlements were jammed with Lambourn soldiers, as well as Richmond’s troops and those from other neighboring houses. It was ironic that Lambourn possessed all of the reinforcements she would ever need; unfortunately, the enemy had trapped them inside the walls like a great herd of captured cattle.
Corralled inside the massive edifice, there was naught to do but defend as best they could against the onslaught from an enemy who had used the shielding cloak of a winter fog to mask their approach. On the battlements and in the bailey, the soldiers prepared with determination and patience borne from men who had seen battle time and time again. They would defend, repel, and hope they did not die in the process.
Deep within the structure of Lambourn, William and Maude were roused from a deep sleep to the news that their beloved castle was under attack. Maude cried as William donned his armor, staunchly determined to defend what was his. As the rest of the household became aware of the situation, fear and terror ran rampant. Several important households were sheltered within the seat of the Berkshire earldom and, should it succumb, a great many important people would fall victim.
But nobles and servants alike took comfort in the fact that a multitude of soldiers were housed within Lambourn; surely she would not fall with hundreds of men to protect her from the invaders. And, surely, she would not crumple to defeat with Richmond le Bec leading her defense. One of Henry’s greatest military minds was at the head of their protection.
Surely, they would emerge unscathed. The identical prayer reverberated throughout every room and every chamber in the frightened, assailed fortress. A prayer for deliverance.
Lambourn was under siege.
CHAPTER TEN
By noon, the fog had barely lifted and the heavy smell of smoke and death permeated the thick air. The battle had been ugly and fierce, and as Arissa sat high in her bower with Penelope, Emma and Regine, they still hadn’t received confirmation as to whom, exactly, they were at war against. The faceless, evil enemy beyond the walls occupied their every thought and their gloom was as weighty as the fog that cloaked the countryside.
Penelope couldn’t stop sobbing. Daniel had been in the heat of the battle since the beginning and she was terrified for him. Emma had taken to biting her nails to the skin while Regine and Arissa stood by the lancet window, watching the chaos as it progressed. It was still so hazy that it was difficult to make out much at all, but still, they stood vigilant, waiting for the moment when the fog would lift and the hellish chaos below would be revealed.
The group barely spoke, nor did they eat. A great deal of upheaval was occurring within the realm of their beloved home and as frightened as they were, there was also a degree of anger. Who would be so bold as to disturb their peaceful existence? What malevolent bastard was intent upon invading their lives? Questions to which there were no ready answers.
Sometime that morning, Arissa did not remember exactly when, she had changed out of her brocade robe and into a heavy surcoat of gray and white linen. Underneath, she had swathed herself in thick, soft woolen undergarments that protected her against the cold. Her lovely hair was gathered into a net as she stood by the window, stoically observing the white-shrouded battle. It was remarkable that she had managed to stay so calm in light of the fact that she had never before witnessed a skirmish. Lambourn hadn’t seen a siege in over forty years.
“What do you suppose is happening?” Regine asked softly, breaking into her thoughts.
Arissa tore her gaze away from the scene below, glancing at her sister. Strange that in spite of the fact Regine had obscenely invaded her privacy the night before, Arissa felt closer to her baby sister than she ever had. As if they shared a common bond, a common secret. When Regine had appeared at her door shortly after dawn, they had simply hugged each other in fearful silence.
Arissa shook her head, returning her attention to the bailey. “I do not know. It seems to have quieted somewhat.”
Penelope, her eyes red and swollen, stumbled to the window.
“Have you seen Daniel?”
Arissa put her arm about her friend’s delicate shoulders.
“Nay, Pen. In fact, ’ti
s difficult to see anyone with the fog as heavy as it is. But do not fret; I am sure Daniel is safe.”
Penelope whimpered, terrified that Daniel was somewhere below, lying dead with an arrow through his heart. As the three women gazed out over the compound, a heavy rain began to fall.
It was no time before the bailey was a swamp of muck. The men-at-arms quickly became soaked through to their woolen undergarments, whereas the armor shielding the knights afforded them slightly better protection against the icy rain. The conditions of battle quickly became even more miserable, if such a thing was possible.
They were so busy in their attempt to gain a glimpse of the courtyard that they were barely aware when the door to Arissa’s chamber squeaked open. Lady Livia stepped into the room, smiling timidly as several pairs of eyes turned to her in rapid sequence. Noting that her daughter had chewed her fingers bloody with apprehension, she reached out to gently still the young, worried hands.
“We are serving the nooning meal in the hall,” she said in a pleasant, entirely forced tone. “It would do you good to be free of this room for a time and enjoy the offered fare.”
Emma had no choice; her mother had her by the hands and was pulling her to stand. When Penelope shook her head miserably, Lady Livia simply took her by the arm firmly and encouraged her toward the door.
“Come along, Arissa, Regine,” she said resolutely. “The battle will not be won or lost if you leave your post by the windows.”
“Who has attacked us?” Arissa asked quietly, her eyes still riveted to the fog beyond her window.
Lady Livia paused a moment, reluctant to answer. After a moment, she sighed faintly. “We cannot be sure, but your father believes it to be de Rydal.”
Arissa’s eyes widened abruptly and she whirled to face her mother’s lady-in-waiting.
“Revenge!” she gasped. “They are seeking revenge against Richmond!”
Lady Livia nodded in resignation. “We have not been able to confirm this information with Sir Richmond. He’s had his hands full since the attack began.”
Arissa’s calm had fled. Ovid de Rydal was intent upon killing her beloved, at the expense of Lambourn no less. Vengeance for the attempted murder of his conceited, pompous, dull-witted son.
Terror flooded her veins. Richmond had said Ovid would not attempt such a bold action as to declare war against his liege. He had been wrong.
“You have not seen Richmond at all?” she asked, her thin voice quaking.
Lady Livia shook her head. “He was on the battlements when the attack occurred. I am told had it not been for his sharp eyes, we would have been caught unaware. Thank God he had been on duty this night, not sleeping in his chamber like the rest of us.”
Arissa nearly winced, her desperate request resounding in the depths of her mind; she had asked him to stay the night with her. Her stomach twisted with the sickening realization that if he had done as she had asked, Lambourn would probably be in a great deal of trouble at this moment because he would not have been up on the battlements to sense the impending attack. Richmond’s own words suddenly came to bear, reminding her of the element of fate.
All things happen for a reason, Riss. Good or bad.
She was grateful that he had not remained with her as she had begged. Not only would Lambourn have been compromised, but Richmond’s men would have come looking for him. And they would have found him where he was not supposed to be – in her bed.
Saying a silent prayer to God for his foresight and wisdom befalling the chain of events, she followed Lady Livia from the room.
*
David and Lyle had been fighting alongside Lambourn soldiers since before dawn. It was a perfect situation for them; the Lambourn soldiers thought they were from a different house, and the soldiers of different standards thought them to be from Lambourn. Each faction believed them to be serving another. It was a perfect cover.
The siege was something they had not anticipated. They had managed to return to Lambourn during the evening, losing themselves in the crowd and waiting for word to reach Ovid de Rydal that Richmond le Bec had made an attempt on his son.
They had fully expected le Bec to retreat from Lambourn after the ugly confrontation with de Rydal simply to ease tensions, but he had refused to comply with their plans. Instead, he had remained as steadfast as ever before. It was apparent that Richmond le Bec was not a coward, and unwilling to run from anything.
As frustrating as that had been, their annoyance had been fed when he had managed to shadow Lady Arissa as if physically attached. No man, or woman for that matter, was allowed near the girl as Henry’s watchdog stood guard. And they couldn’t help but notice what a lovely, fragile creature she was; white skin and black hair and rosy, full lips. Aye, she was a beauty unworthy of Plantagenet loins in their opinion. Her striking loveliness was better suited to a Welsh lass.
Even now as they toiled in the heat of battle, Richmond le Bec was grossly occupied with holding Lambourn. Wise enough to be aware when advantages presented themselves, David and Lyle realized that if they were going to abduct the lady, there would be no better time. The problem, of course, would lie in removing her from the fortified walls.
There were limited possibilities; the blockaded servants entrance that led to the huge field where yesterday’s games had taken place, the sealed front gate, or literally climbing the walls and lowering themselves down the other side. And not one of those three options looked particularly attractive harboring an unwilling captive. Still, they had to try. Owen was depending on them.
Leaving the battlements had not been difficult. It had been as simple as formulating an excuse to their superior officer that they were going for ammunition supplies and fresh water. Once in the midst of the ankle-deep mud of the bailey, the guarded fortress lay straight ahead.
Having been at Lambourn since the day before, they had familiarized themselves with all known entrances to the bastion and moved confidently for the servant’s door near the kitchens. David and Lyle were seasoned veterans, thinking soldiers that had been at war for more years than they cared to recall. Their movements were confident, the gestures unhurried, as to not attract attention. As easy as they had anticipated it would be, they moved past the soldiers lingering by the kitchen portal and were engulfed by the warm interior of the fortress.
The servants were in a panic, rushing about in chaos. David and Lyle moved slowly through the crowd, bumping into people as they pretended to have a sense of purpose. In faith, they were attempting to orient themselves to the interior layout of the castle to best determine where the Lady Arissa might be held. Logic dictated that she would be kept to her rooms during a crisis and they set about to determine the best route to the second floor.
Nearing the gallery, their eyes fell on a host of people cluttering the huge room, nibbling nervously on bread and talking between themselves. Their trained eyes scanned the room for the dark head of their intended target as they struggled to maintain their casual manner.
Fate was on their side; the servants and household troops were so concerned with the events occurring outside that they scarcely gave the two unfamiliar soldiers a passing glance.
Like preying beasts, they sought their victim.
*
“I am simply not hungry,” Arissa said listlessly, turning to her mother. “And I furthermore cannot believe that father chose to involve himself in this battle. He’s not been to battle in twenty years!”
Lady Maude did not wish to be reminded of her husband’s whereabouts. In spite of the cool temperature of the gallery, she fanned herself furiously in response to her daughter’s statement.
“’Tis his castle, dear, and he’s compelled to defend it,” she said weakly.
“Richmond and Daniel and the rest of them are defending us,” Arissa replied with a touch of bitterness. “Father will only get in the way.”
“Your father was a great warrior, once,” Maude stopped fanning herself. She was far too restless to remain seate
d. Rising on unsteady legs, she gave her daughter a thin smile. “All will be well, my dear. Remain to the safety of the castle until you are told otherwise.”
Arissa stood up and kissed her mother dutifully, watching as Lady Maxine and Lady Livia escorted her from the room. When her mother’s wide form vanished, she sighed and returned her attention to The Horde.
“I wonder where Bartholomew is,” she pondered out loud. “Has anyone seen him?”
“Surely your father would not allow him to fight,” Penelope responded. “He’s not even a knight.”
“He would have been had he not been so distracted with his studies,” Regine supplied. “Father had a suit of armor and a magnificent sword commissioned for him in anticipation of his knighthood. The armor and the broadsword sit collecting dust in Mossy’s sanctuary.”
Mossy. Arissa turned in the direction of the tower as if to see Mossy in his cluttered room. He was the only one who had known of her secret love for Richmond all of these years, a shoulder to cry on when she could not tell anyone of her anguish.
Truthfully, she’d never even admitted the extent of her adoration to the old man; Mossy had known without the benefit of words. With a back glance to her gaggle of friends, she excused herself from the table.
“Where are you going?” Regine demanded.
“To see Mossy,” she replied honestly. “I simply cannot believe that he’s not shown himself during our crisis. I would make sure that he’s well.”
“Mossy is perfectly safe in his tower,” Emma said frankly. “In fact, we would all be much safer if we would join him. I shall even brave the rats.”
Arissa did not want The Horde tagging along after her and shook her head firmly. “Nay, I shall not have us wandering the halls of Lambourn when we should simply stay put. I shall check on Mossy and return as quickly as I can, I promise.”
“You should not go alone, Riss,” Regine said sincerely. “It could be dangerous.”