Warrior's Deception. Diana Hall
brought the drink to his lips.
“I hope ‘tis fine ale ye be drinkin’, ‘cause if’n ye don’t be tellin’ milord the truth, ‘twill be ye last.”
Roen felt the pressure of a dagger against the base of his neck. He drained the bowl and with slow movements set it next to the jug.
The older knight swirled his ale in his mouth, obviously enjoying the flavor of the strong drink. “Tom, we don’t know for sure he is a liar.” Edmund quirked a smile at the motionless Roen. “So tell me, Sir Roen de Galliard of Normandy, why are you here? Why the fairy story about saving my daughter? Lenora needs to be delivered from her sharp tongue and hot temper, but never from the back of a horse.”
“I come from King Henry.” Roen spoke quietly. He could feel the hot breath of his assailant and the prick of a dagger point on the back of his neck.
“‘E could be lyin’, Sir Edmund.” The sharp point pressed a trifle more.
Roen willed his heart to beat normally, his chest to rise and fall naturally. His huge hands gripped his knees, his knuckles white with indignation. As he spoke, his outrage spilled over. “You wrote a letter to the king using the code from the battle at Hastings. You asked for help, Henry sent me.”
His words caused Sir Edmund to pull back and the blade moved just a hair away from his neck. Now was the time to act. Roen dived forward and kicked the chair hard. It thumped into the midsection of the man with the knife. Roen scrambled to his feet. Grabbing the overturned chair, he prepared to break it over the head of his assailant.
“Wait!” Sir Edmund shouted.
Roen held the sturdy chair high over his head, his breath ragged. It took only a few seconds for him to realize the dazed man was unable to rise and was blind in one eye.
“Well, ain’t ye goin’ to help me up?” The old man wheezed and held up his hand.
“You must be daft, both of you.” Roen swung the chair to the floor. He grabbed the old man’s arm and plopped him into the chair Roen had nearly crushed his skull with.
“Tom?” Edmund examined his coconspirator with a critical eye. Tom nodded while he tried to regain his breath. “Sir Roen, I apologize for the subterfuge. In a case like this, I can trust very few.”
“And you trust me now?” Roen towered over the men.
“Aye. One, you held your blow when you saw the condition of your attacker, and second—” Edmund arched his brows “—I have no choice. I need help to protect my family.”
Roen paced the room before hitching a leg onto an ironbanded chest near the window. “What makes you think you are in any danger, other than from your own harebrained schemes?”
Tom stopped wheezing and started to sputter, “What—why, you…I don’t care if’n you are a lord, ye don’t go talkin’ to Sir Edmund like that.”
Sir Edmund silenced his man with an annoyed frown. “’Tis little proof I have, more of a hunch. My illness for one.” He released a long, anguished breath and eased himself back against the pillows. The stress of the recent events shone on his face.
“Aye, ‘tis a strange illness.” Tom’s muscles creaked, his bad knee popped. He used the back of the chair to pull himself up. “My lord grows weak, then grows strong, then weak again.”
“He’s old. It happens,” Roen replied nonchalantly.
“Then why is it when I bring his food myself, not from the kitchen, he gets stronger? Why is it that when I fed his kitchen food to the rats in the stable, they died?” Tom gave Roen a nearly toothless grin. “Someone’s a-tryin’ to poison ‘im.”
“Rats die, they eat spoiled food. You doped the stable with poison, they got hold of it.” Roen scrutinized the ill man, noted the paleness of his face.
“Aye, it could be so, I wish it were so,” Edmund replied wearily. “I do not wish to think someone of my house would poison me. But ‘tis true. Tom smuggles me food through a secret chamber into this room. Yet, I still suffer from bouts of illness. I know not if this is a permanent result of the poisoning, or if the traitor still reaches me, despite our precautions.”
“There’s other things. Before the lord got sick.” Tom held his back as he shuffled over to Roen. “Accidents! The lord ‘ere was nearly trampled to death when the girth broke on his saddie. Then his lance broke during a hunt. The whole castle was a-talkin’ about the lord’s run of bad luck.”
The one-eyed man gave Roen a calculated look. “All the talk scared the coward. Not too much longer, Sir Edmund starts to feelin’ poorly.”
Roen scratched his chin. “All you really have is supposition. No real proof.”
Tom snorted in disgust. “And what about Lady Lenora?”
Roen jumped off the chest. “What’s happened to Lenora?” he demanded. “Sir Edmund, your letter did not mention any harm to her.”
There was silence as Tom and his lord exchanged appraising glances. Edmund’s voice wavered. “No harm—yet. Just things that make one wonder. I never received an answer before—why did Lenora lie for you? I’m surprised she didn’t strip you to the bone with one of her tongue-lashings.”
Roen wandered about the room to collect and organize his thoughts. “Your daughter did not wish to upset you. Believe me, I have heard enough of her bad manners. What do you want from me?” Roen asked tentatively. He suspected the answer would not be to his liking.
Edmund reached out his hand. Tom slipped two brown leather-wrapped missives from under his worn jerkin. He placed them in his lord’s hand. The elder knight opened each, read each briefly.
“I believe this will draw the culprit out.” He held one out to Roen.
“This is a marriage contract!” Roen stared at Sir Edmund as the man’s plan dawned on him. “Nay, I’ll not marry that hellcat daughter of yours.”
“Then don’t. Read the contract, man. All you have to do is announce your engagement,” Sir Edmund replied briskly.
Roen reviewed the document. “This contract is quite generous to me. I become Lord of Woodshadow the day I marry Lenora.”
“Aye, to be passed on to your and Lenora’s children at your death.”
“This cannot be! If Lenora has no children I’m to be given a settlement of three hundred gold coins. You are that rich?” Roen asked, thunderstruck. Not even the king had that much hard coin.
Edmund chuckled slyly. “Nay. The holdings would have to be sold to pay you off. I can’t deed you Woodshadow itself. ‘Tis held through my wife’s family. But I can gift you with enough gold that whoever inherits will have nothing if Lenora dies.”
Roen slung the document onto Edmund’s chest. “You dare propose this plan. If someone is trying to kill you, Lenora’s life will be forfeit. What will prevent the cad from killing her to prevent the marriage?”
“You will.” Edmund’s eyes pinned his with their sharp gaze. “You say I have no proof, this will get it for me.” The older man lifted the contract.
“You risk the life of your daughter so easily?” Roen challenged.
“This is the most difficult thing I have ever done,” Edmund admitted. “I have fought battles with less fear than I feel now. But this is the only way I can guarantee her safety in the future. I cannot rest until this is settled.”
Roen shook his head. He crossed to the window, placed his arm against the cool wall and rested his head on his wrist. Finally, he turned to face the two elderly men.
“What’s to keep me from marrying the girl and killing her myself? That’s a handsome amount of money you offer.”
Tom stepped forward, his one eye glaring at Roen. He gave Roen