To the Victor..... (closed for Sweet_Denna)

[MrAdam]

“My lord, the scribes are here” said Anselm.
Lord William de Reynaux looked up from the pile of scrolls and maps on his makeshift desk. He stood up, quickly rolling up two or three pieces of paper and slipping them into a case.
“Show them in, Anslem.”
“My lord”.
“Well, Heathcote” said William, turning to his chief advisor and right hand man. “What shall we tell my lord the King?”
“Nothing but the best of tidings, my Lord”, he replied, a broad smile on the older man’s face. “Let us send him news to cheer his heart.”
William nodded.
“Sit down, you fellows, and take this down” he said, directing the Scribes towards the table he had just vacated.

William started pacing around the small pavilion that served as his field command post, its dark green canvas rippling in the summer breeze. It was hard to ascertain his true age – his form and face were of a young man, perhaps of twenty four or twenty five winters, but his voice and eyes were of a man of perhaps thirty years of age. On first meeting him, most would guess that he was older than he appeared. He was a little taller than the common man, and broader of shoulder. His movements were graceful and fluid, and spoke of a speed and agility to match his strength. His hair was black, cut short and straight at the back and sides, but a little longer at the front to create a short fringe that fell over his forehead. His eyes were blue-green, and somewhat against the fashion, he was clean shaven. His features were fair and expressive – his frowns were deep, and his smiles broad - but every movement, every gesture, seemed controlled, as if he was showing only what he wanted to be shown. His voice was warm, deep, and sonorous with an almost hypnotic quality. There was no need to introduce him as the commander of His Majesty’s army in the east – as a man of importance – his very presence told its own tale.

“To His Majesty King Edward, King by the Grace of the One True God of the lands and dominions and islands of the most Holy land of….. and so on and so forth….. from Lord William de Reynaux, Commander, by the Grace of the One True God and by the Grace of His Majesty, of his most Glorious Armies in the East…. Et cetera et cetera et cetera….” The two scribes scribbled away, each in his own form of short hand. Although they knew the required form of address, each would glance over at his fellow’s writings every so often to make sure that they had everything between them.

“To my most noble and beloved cousin, Greetings! I have the honour to write to Your Majesty with news of victory! Your armies, by the Grace of the One True God, and the Angels of… and so on…. have triumphed over the renegades led by the traitor, Lawrence de Courtney. Following your wise counsel, your forces made haste to join battle and scattered the foe to the four winds. We sent a terrible lesson to any who would defy you, and crushed the rebellion even as it started. We chased the dog all the way back to his den, and this day our magnificent cavalry rode him down before he could reach his castle. I am sorry to say, my dread liege, we could not take him alive so that you may make an example of him as you wished. The dog broke his neck falling from his horse, fleeing like a coward from retribution. This afternoon my Captains accepted the surrender of the Castle, and your standard flies above this land once more. My agents tell me that the dog de Courtney’s family has fled by sea, but I shall ascertain the truth of this reports with my own eyes. Your subjects in these lands are for the most part loyal to Your Majesty, but have been led by a wolf, not be a true shepherd. Everywhere is lawlessness and disrepair – de Courtney neglected all of his duties and half-starved his people to pay for his mercenary band. Although the task that Your Majesty set me is done, I ask your blessing to pursue another. Let me be the shepherd – let me show the people your bounty and your beneficence, and you shall have no more loyal subjects. If Your Majesty wills it, I shall save what I can of the harvest, and set the mines to work once more for the good of the Commonwealth and Your Majesty’s Exchequer…..”

“You want these lands, William?” asked Heathcote, “Why? Another war is coming – do you not want to lead the army there too?”
“Yes, but do you really think I will get the chance? He’ll let me put down a revolt and save his throne – though he will never acknowledge it. But let me lead against a foreign power – no chance. He will do it himself or give it to his idiot brother. No. I feel like a break from fighting. I want de Courtney’s lands.”
“Why?”
“Look around you. Fertile land, mines, two good harbours. Defensible, natural borders to three sides. The problem is, it has been run by renegades, simpletons, zealots or madmen – and sometimes all combined in one - for as long as anyone can remember. And I have a taste for the ale and the women of these parts!”
“Will he trust you with them?”
“Hard to say. On the one hand, I have just proved my loyalty. If we had gone over to the rebels, well…. who knows? But you and I both know that de Courtney is even more unbearable than the King. Maybe he will want these lands run properly too. Maybe not. I want to be out from under his feet. I want my own court. After this great victory, it might suit him to have me out of the way too, lest I grow too popular. And then as long as we keep his spies happy, I have a free hand.”
“I never pictured you as a lover of peace!”
“Well…. peace on my terms, yes. It goes without saying, Heathcote, that the place at my right hand is yours if you want it.”
“And it goes without saying that I do, my Lord.”
William raised an eyebrow. “Still not tempted by a Crusade, then?”
Heathcote laughed. “Absolutely not.”
“I should get this finished” said William, turning back to the Scribes.
“And more in that vein, you get the picture. Finally, a list of those who served with distinction – name those you have to name, Anslem here will give you a list of those who actually deserve it, starting with Heathcote, of course.”
“And… and the Prince, my lord?” asked one of the Scribes, nervously.
“Should be first named, of course. Tell His Majesty that his son showed spirit beyond his tender years, and was generous with his counsel.”
“Not ‘wise counsel’, my Lord?”
“No. His generosity was in keeping his counsel when told. Where is he, anyway?”
“With his whores, my Lord” answered Anslem, trying to suppress a grin.
“Best place for him” growled Heathcote, still angry at the Princeling’s disastrous attempt at field command.
“Good. Find him some more if he shows any sign of getting bored, and keep the brat out of my way. And let’s hope for their sake that the fool is better at making love than he is at making war.”

 

[Sweet_Denna]

Eleonore de Castillac looked out of the window from which she could oversee the hills and meadows that stretched all the way until the horizon. The summer air was heavy with the scent of thyme and lavender, and the soft breeze that carried the scent of the nearby sea played with her chestnut-coloured curls. Such a beautiful day it was, and yet her large hazel eyes were full of sorrow. Many tents were scattered across the land around the Castle of the now defeated Lawrence de Courtney, her reckless, greedy uncle. Like strange flowers the shelters of the King’s army blossomed on the land of her family, like weed they seemed to suffocate everything in their path. “That fool.” Her words were uttered as a sharp whisper, but the older man that stood in the middle of the scarcely decorated room had heard her.

“Indeed.”

The young woman frowned. While she was not overly tall, the posture of her slender figure left no doubt about her noble heritage. The simple linen dress she wore, the modestly decorated belt that was slung around her slim waist did not conceal her standing. She wore her hair uncovered, as it was the custom for women who had not yet married. Not a single piece of jewelry adorned her hands or wrists, Eleonore cared not for such superfluous frills. Her skin had been kissed by the warm sun, and during the summer it turned to the colour of honey. But now, her cheeks were flushed, her delicate face looked agitated.

She spoke without turning to her interlocutor. “I am the Lady of these lands now, am I not? Am I not the Lady of this castle?”

Eduard, the captain of her uncle’s defeated army, nodded. “Yes, my Lady. But you are also the only member of de Courtney’s family that has not yet been slain or fled across the sea. It was ill-advised of your father to leave you in the care of his brother-in-law when he took the rest of his family to the Holy Land.”

“It was not my choice to stay with Sir Lawrence.”

He held up one hand in patient amity. “I know. Alas, it is too late now for this kind of excuse. After what de Courtney has attempted, neither the King nor his son will be willing to reason with the traitor’s kin.”

Eleonore turned around, anger flaring in her hazel eyes. “He might have to. I do not bear the thought of having him hand these lands over to a stranger. People are hungry and worn-out from my uncle’s constant need for gold and bread to satisfy his army’s needs. The fields, the mills, the mines – they all need tending to right now, and you ask me to run? I will beg him for forgiveness; implore him to let me put my hands in his once more, be once again his loyal vassal. Was his revenge not bloody enough already? And does not mercy make a great king?”

The captain’s expression hardened and with a few steps, he was next to her, looking out the window. “You are right, my Lady. But walk into this camp and you will find a hungry pack of wolves instead of a noble monarch. Many years have passed since these unfortunate lands have seen the great king that you speak of. You will find that the now reconfirmed ruler is just the lesser of two evils, but evil nonetheless.”

The young woman put a hand on Eduard’s shoulder, feeling suddenly very tired. “Your words make the thought to leave the people to his mercy all the more unbearable. I wish I had not been born a woman, Eduard. I wish it was in my power to make my voice heard.” She spread her slim fingers out in front of her, looking at them with contempt. “I wish I was able to wield a sword instead of constantly having to fear the arbitrariness of men.”

The captain took her hands in his. “I am sure that you would not need a blade to have others listen to your words. And while I am at your command, my Lady, I beg you, as a friend, to heed my counsel: do not lose another moment. Flee, together with Therese, and leave the king in the belief that all that that was left of de Courtney is now gone or dead.”

“So we are yet again the will-less victims that the moody winds of male ambition carry aimlessly across the land like leaves ripped off a tree.” Her gaze strayed to meet that of her servant and close friend Therese. The blonde girl stood in another corner of the room, her bright blue eyes still red and swollen from crying. She had lost more than her home and master: Her beloved had fallen under the blades of the victors. There was nothing that kept her here now. Eleneore’s heart ached in pain and sympathy, yet lost love was a suffering she had not yet experienced. The fair girl looked frail and broken, it was clear that she would not be able to endure more hardship. And had her brother not secured himself a small, but fertile patch of land just east of Jerusalem? It would surely feed them all. The young noblewoman longed to be with her family again, to be safe again. The last weeks had been so full of death, of blood, of fear. Was it not enough?
Eleonore finally squeezed the captain’s hands, before withdrawing them.

“Very well then, I cede to your advice.”

The captain sighed in relief. “I will prepare everything. Drunken with his victory, the Prince will certainly be distracted enough for you to escape unharmed.”

“And what becomes of you, Eduard?”

A faint smile briefly lightened up the captain’s face. “The few men that have not perished in your uncle’s foolish pursuit are now under the command of his Majesty, the King. Since I still am the Captain of this sad lot he might decide to have my neck as an example and a warning – since de Courtney broke his before the King’s revenge could reach him. If not – I am a soldier, and will wield my sword for the man that feeds me.” He placed his callous hand on hers. “But as long as you are here, my Lady, I will not allow for anybody to harm you.” The older man frowned. “Especially not that whoremongering princling.”

“You are a good man. I will be forever in your debt.”

“Wait until nightfall. I will arrange for a boat to carry you and Therese southwards, to safer shores. From there, you can mount a vessel that carries both of you to the Holy Land. If God wills it, you will rejoin your family there, away from the petty politics the poison these lands.”

Eleonore could not help but throw herself in the surprised soldier’s arms. “May God protect you, Eduard. I will pray every day for the Lord to keep you safe.” The young woman then turned to her servant. “Therese, I will leave the packing up to you. Take only what is necessary for the journey.”
She brought the captain’s hands to her lips and kissed them. “I will take one last walk around the meadows. Don’t worry, Eduard, I will be cautious.”

 

[MrAdam]

Sergeant Fredricks led his small band of soldiers along a narrow path through some light woods. A career soldier and veteran of five wars, Fredricks wore a well-made set of chain mail armour, with a stained, torn tabard over the top, the dark green colour marking him out as one of de Reynaux’s men. The others wore a mismatch of leather and chain – a mixture of what they were issued with and what they had scavenged – and dark green cotton strips tied around their right upper arms. Fredricks was in his late 30s, his soldiers were younger, most in their early 20s. Some had the look of hardened soldiers, some as relative novices.

“Eyes open, boys!” commanded Fredricks.
“Why?” asked Godrick, “The war’s over, chief! All over but for the details!””
“Don’t let those be your last words, boy” growled Fredricks in response. “Look sharp, all of you. The war is over, but don’t think that makes it safe. Bandits, thieves, fugitives, mistaken identity…. it’s not safe. I’ve brought you all safe through now, have I not? So do as I say, and don’t let your guard down now. This close to the castle, you never know what you’ll get. The main forces goes in round the front, all pomp and ceremony, another circles around the back, and small patrols like this one mops up whatever needs mopping up around the estate. Now, that might be nothing… it might be fleeing enemies, it might be thieves, it might be our own side turning their hands to looting. So, stay sharp.”
“Shame we don’t get to do any of the looting” said Osgar, with a smile.
“Don’t even joke, laddie. You keep your light fingers in your pockets where they can do no damage. The General is serious about this – he says we’ll get our pay and more, but not if we help ourselves to what doesn’t belong to the likes of us. They always say that, but I heard he’s had five hanged for looting already.”
“Oh – you mean they meant all that stuff. Why? What does he care? He’s got what he came for, he’s got his victory.” asked Osgar.
“Not sure. Rumour is…. rumour is that the General wants these lands for his own. I don’t believe it, though.”
“I would rather we all got fair shares, rather than just everyone grabbing what they can” said Godrick, “Like we do among ourselves, I mean… but for everyone.”
“Nice idea” snorted Osgar, “but how many of those whoremongering thieving bastards back at camp do you trust?”
“Just us” said Godrick
“Exactly” replied Osgar.

They walked on for another half hour or so, the woodland thinning further into fields and meadows.
“Sarge!” hissed Godrick, peering over a hedge, “There’s someone up ahead… in that field. Looks like a girl… definitely a girl.”
“Jackpot!” said Osgar, grinning. “Just what we need! Is she pretty?”
“Can’t tell from here” answered Godrick. “Probably.”
“What’s she doing here?” said Fredrick, “We’ve hardly seen a soul.”
“Can we investigate, chief?” asked Osgar, licking his lips.
“You two head back the way we came, head for the far gate” said Fredricks. “The other three, follow me. I am going to go into the field and challenge her. If she runs, you two cut her off.”
“Don’t start the fun without me!” said Osgar.
“No fun till the job’s done” snapped Fredricks. “Concentrate”

Osgar and Godrick scampered off back down the path. Fredricks waited for a few moments for them to get into position, and then strode purposefully through the near gate, and into the meadow.

“You! Halt! Don’t move!” he shouted. He scanned the hedgerows and the long grass for anyone else, for any ambush. But he could see none. Just one girl, alone, in a field, in a war zone. Very strange.

 

[Sweet_Denna]

Eleonore hurried down the hidden path that lead down to the meadows and fields stretching out behind the castle. How many times had she taken this path together with Therese? Passing the small clearing from which she could overlook the sea, she stopped. Where the afternoon sun kissed the water, patches of gold drifted on the surface like lazy flowers. The young woman sighed, unable to take the eyes of the peaceful beauty. Was this then to be the last time she would see it?

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The faint summer breeze carried over shouting from the busy harbour; it was as if the war was already forgotten. The old lord of these lands would not be missed, but would the new one be welcomed? Eleonore frowned. The anger that the old captain had succeeded to dissipate resurfaced in her mind. She was old enough, she had seen eighteen winters! Would she not be an able Lady to rule in the King’s interest, to fill his treasury with the goods and taxes these lands would so amply provide? Leonore knew that it was not her abilities that Eduard did not trust. An evil King! The young woman smiled. Evil kings only existed in tales and legends; the one whose army now surrounded her uncle’s castle had very real profits at stake. Eduard was a dear friend, but he was a cynic. Too much violence, too many unjust wars had hardened his spirit.

But even a man with an unsavoury reputation such as the Prince was bound to codes of honourable conduct. They had surrendered to his armies, had they not?

And the captain., Eduard. He had spoken so nonchalantly of his possible execution. Elenore shivered at the thought. Did she really have the right to flee, covered by the dark of night, and leave all the castle folk to fend for themselves in the face of a revengeful enemy? None of these people had chosen to rise up against the King, yet all of them had been obliged to follow the word of their master. How would she be able to face her family after such treacherous cowardice? What was she to tell them? That it had been more convenient?

Yet Eduard’s warning was fresh in her mind.

It were these conflicting thoughts that slowed down her steps, that caused her to stray further out into the open fields, as if she longed to be discovered. While she had given Eduard her word not to walk into the camp of the victors, would it be her fault if she was caught despite her intentions?

Her heart was beating faster as this foolish ‘plan’ formed in her head. Her common sense told her that she would attract curious eyes only too easily, walking alone in a field that was surrounded by a besieging army. A young woman, all alone. Very much like prey. Wearily, Eleonore threw glances over her shoulder.

Despite this, she flinched as she heard a male voice shout out over the meadow, obviously addressing her. He still was a good pace away, she could still run, maybe even reach the safety of the castle before he could reach her. But Eleonore had made up her mind already. Forgive me, Eduard. Therese, please try to understand.

The young woman turned to the man that had called out to her, a soldier, and, judging by his appearance, of higher rank. While he was probably not alone, she could not see anybody else. ‘Don’t be nervous, don’t show him any fear’, she whispered to herself. While she barely dared to breathe as he came closer, Eleonore stood upright facing him, watching his every move. Men so often mistook seemingly unprotected women as something they had every right to exploit and to use to their guise; and the young noblewoman knew that signs of fear only further incited their hunger.

She answered his first question, before he could even ask it: “I am Eleonore de Castillac, and now Lady of this Castle. I wish for you to lead me to the glorious victor.” For the length of a heartbeat, silent mockery shimmered in her brown eyes. Did she detect hesitation in the soldier’s expression? Surprise? Suspicion? “I wish to speak to his majesty, the Prince.”

***

Therese wearily watched as the castle was prepared for the ceremonious arrival of the Prince’s army. His banner already fluttered in the angry breeze. The blonde girl had packed the few things that she deemed necessary for her journey with Lady Eleonore, it was not much, and Therese gladly left behind everything that reminded her of everything that she had lost.

And everything it was – her chest tightened with pain at the thought of the black emptiness left behind. Therese was grateful that Eleonore had agreed to leave, and to leave right away. She did not bear the thought of having to face the victorious soldiers of the King, somewhere amongst which walked the murderer of her Thomas, her beloved. She had also remarked the many knowing glances, some pitiful, some full of greedy hunger. With Sir Lawrence gone, with Lady Eleonore fallen from the King’s grace, she herself was now unprotected, too.

She returned to the small wooden chest beneath the window and kneeled. Rummaging through its contents, she finally found what she was looking for: a plain hunting knife, sheathed in leather. Therese hiked up her linen dress and bared her thighs. As intended, she slung the leather band that was attached to the scabbard around her right upper thigh, the dark leather in lovely contrast with her creamy skin.

It was always good to be prepared.

 

[MrAdam]

Fredricks approached slowly as his men moved to close the circle. He waited for her to run, expected it, but step by step, closer and closer… she didn’t.

Noblewoman, he thought, without knowing quite why he thought it. Although her clothing was plain, there was a confident air about her. She stood waiting for him, head up rather than down, seeking his gaze rather than avoiding it, ready to give a command rather than accepting one. It would also explain why she had not run from him, though it would not explain what she was doing here, in this meadow, alone and unguarded.

He was about to ask when she answered.
“I am Eleonore de Castillac, and now Lady of this Castle. I wish for you to lead me to the glorious victor. I wish to speak to his majesty, the Prince.”

Fredricks hesitated. This was outside of his experience. Should he point out that she was no longer Lady of the Castle? That the glorious victor was not the Prince, but de Reynaux? Was she being sarcastic, and if so, should he say anything. Damn it. This could go well for him if he brought her in, played his cards right. Very well indeed. But if it went badly, if he got it wrong…. This seemed like a high stakes game, but one that gave him no chance to fold.

How should he treat her? Was she still the enemy? Was she still noble, and what did that mean? If he treated her with too little respect, that was trouble. Too much and it was treason. What should he do? The Captain’s patrol should be half a mile off – he could send someone to ask him. Or he could just take her back to the Castle and meet up with the occupying army, but the Prince and his men would have the lead there, as etiquette dictated. And he was de Reynaux’s man, through and through.

After a moment’s hesitation, he made up his mind.
“I am Sergeant Fredricks. Give me your parole and I will take you to the victor.”
He was not sure whether parole applied to noblewomen as it would to officers, but it was the best he could come up with.
“There is a hunter’s cabin back yonder. We will take you there and send word to our Commander and discover his will in this matter."

 

[Sweet_Denna]

Eleonore balled her small hands in fists. Was this a good idea? Her eyes quietly detected the blood stains on his tabard. Had she not overplayed her hand? But his words were not aggressive.

“Parole?” A faint smile hushed over her face. He seemed like a soldier who played by the rules; he seemed...trustworthy. “I am afraid that the parole broke its neck along with my unfortunate uncle. I have none to give you, Sergeant.”

However, his offer made her uneasy. A cabin. She took a deep breath. Now she wished that she had informed at least Therese of her wanderings, but when she had left the castle, she had not known that she would dare such an unwise venture. The young woman was unarmed, had nothing to defend herself with but her nobility and her faith in the occupier’s honour. Eleonore had a feeling that both might not get her very far. “Anger” would not even begin to describe Eduard’s reaction to this foolishness.

On the other hand, the idea to meet the victorious Prince in a secluded place might be to her advantage – would he not be more inclined to reason, to show mercy and understanding, if there was no rapacious crowd watching his every move? He would not have to show manly strength and severity in front of her, a young woman with a now useless title. The question was, of course, if this would not rather push him to be merciless: the Prince’s horrible reputation led Eleonore to believe that her helplessness might rather fuel his sinful cravings. No matter, she had made her choice the moment she had decided not to run.

“Agreed, Sergeant Fredricks. I will follow you to meet your Commander.” How strange that he did not call his Majesty, the Prince, by his name and title. There were other men, as she had suspected, of course, why would he search the premises of an enemy estate on his own? It was too late when Eleonore realized that none of them wore the Prince’s colours.

***
Therese felt a hand on her shoulder and turned around. “Has she not yet returned?” Captain Eduard’s voice was calm, and only those who knew him well would detect the underlying worry in it. The blonde girl shook her head. “No, sir, Lady Eleonore is still gone. But I have packed what we’ll need, as soon as you tell us to, we can leave this dreaded place.”

Eduard gave the girl’s shoulder a fatherly squeeze. He knew why she was so pressed to get away, and felt for her. “We’ll wait till nightfall. After the feast and the festivities, most will be too drunk and tired to pay any attention to what goes on beyond their beds.” He did not add that he had a terrible feeling, a slight grinding in his guts. The Prince was about to arrive, and the captain was not sure if he would even live to see the sun set in the evening. Where was Lady Eleonore? He had trusted her to find her way around the meadows without being detected or intercepted, she was a clever girl, and knew what was at stake. Her absence just added to his fear that fate might yet spoil their plans.

Taking a deep breath, he urged Therese to turn and face him with a small gesture of his hand. “Listen, Therese. Everything is prepared. A boat is waiting, at the shore, close to the old cave, you know the one. A fisherman will await you there, his name is Sebastien, you can trust him with your lives. He knows what is to be done, he will lead you. As soon as the light is dimming, you will head there, no matter what. Until then, stay hidden, don’t draw attention to yourselves.” Her eyes widened, she understood of course the meaning of his words. “Yes, Sir.” Her voice was a frightened whisper. “May god keep you safe, child.”

It was then that a voice drifted over from the castle walls. “His Majesty arrives, prepare to open the gates!”

 

[MrAdam]

Fredricks and his men escorted Eleonore to the cabin.
“I will send word to the General. We will stay here and await his instructions. You must stay inside, out of sight.”
He ordered his remaining men to set up guard, remaining inside the cabin himself. He took food and water from his pack and placed them on a rough wooden table.
“What’s mine is yours, miss” he said. “Eat, drink if you wish. There is no telling how long the General will be.”

“My lord” said Anslem, “news from one of the patrols.”
“What is it?” grunted William, looking up from a draft of his letter to the King.
“The messenger says it’s for your ears only, my lord.”
“Show him in. And tell him this better be worth my time.”
Anslem ushered Godrick through into the pavilion. He was visibly nervous, and looked as if he were mentally preparing his report, over and over and over again.
“Well, lad? What’s so important that you have to tell me in person?”
“We’ve taken a hostage, my lord” blurted Gordrick, “Eleanore…. She’s a noblewoman… we found her in the field, and she wanted to be taken to the Prince, but we-“
“Slow down” ordered William. “Noblewoman? Who?”
“Eleonore de Castillac”
“Who?”
“She says she is now Lady of the Castle.”
“She’s kin to de Courtney, then?”
“I couldn’t say, my lord.”
“Where is she now?”
“Sergeant Fredricks took her to a hunter’s cabin for safety, my lord. The Prince’s men were about to take the castle.”
“And she wanted to speak to the Prince?”
“Yes, my lord”
“So Fredricks sent you to tell me, not the Prince?””
“Yes, my lord”
“Does the Prince know about her?”
“I don’t think so, my lord.”
“Good. Excellent. What’s she like? Young and pretty, I hope.”
“Yes, my lord. Very pretty.”
“I don’t think his majesty the Prince need be bothered with this, do you?”
“Not for me to say, my lord”
“Good answer, lad. Make sure your fellows feel the same on that point, and that no-one takes it upon themselves to say anything. Do this, and I will make sure that an appropriate finder’s fee is paid to you all. Now, tell Anselm there exactly where you are camped, and I will come and visit in an hour or so, all being well.”
“Yes, my lord.” Godrick bowed clumsily, and left.
“What are you thinking?” asked Heathcote, looking quizzically at him.
“Not sure yet” answered William. “I am curious, though. If she is kin to de Courtney, why is she alone? Why is she still here, and not fled? Why on earth does she think that speaking to the Prince is a good idea?”
“She might be a spy” said Heathcote, “or an impostor.”
“True” said William, “But that’s not how this feels. But how naïve would she have to be to request to see the Prince without anything to bargain with. And if she has something to bargain with, I want first refusal, whatever it is.”
“To the victor, the spoils?”
“Exactly. See what you can find out, would you? Look at the heraldry, see what you can find out about any ‘de Castillac’ family.”


Prince Edward strode across the drawbridge and into the castle, surrounded by his immaculately armed and equipped personal guard. He was a little below average height, and although his arms and armour had been made to fit him perfectly, he did not look quite right in them – it was as if he was wearing borrowed clothes. He was young, not much past twenty winters, and possibly younger. The whole campaign he had felt out of his depth. Men who should be his subordinates gave him every respect to his face, did him every honour. But he knew they laughed at him into their sleeves, mocked him behind his back. He had tried to be a military commander. He had made a mistake – fallen for an obvious trap – and that was it. After that, he had no option but to pretend not to notice the sleights, pretend not to notice de Reynaux and his cabal completing their takeover of everything. But what choice did he have? Without de Reynaux he could not be sure of victory, but with him he was all but powerless.

This, though, was different. He would take the castle. He had insisted on it. And de Reynaux had backed down! Backed down! So here he was, his elite personal guard around him, accepting the surrender of his father’s greatest enemy’s fortress. He tried to adopt a serious and majestic demeanour, giving orders to those about him, putting on a show. His trusted captains were securing the treasury – if anything was left – and he ordered the castle searched and all souls within to be brought to the courtyard.

 

[Sweet_Denna]

Frowning, Eleonore stood in one corner of the cabin. They did not allow for her to stand in the low doorway, lest unwanted eyes would remark her presence. She had also been unable to break the stern sergeant’s silence, or to find out who it actually was that was coming to see her. Even before the arrival of this mysterious commander, before even the first word of negotiation had been spoken, she felt more like a prisoner than an interlocutor among these men.

The young woman did however sense this male arrogance again, so well-known to her by now, the silent smirks of the other soldiers, their almost shameless gazes. How much she hated it, and yet how helpless did she still feel in the face of this presumptuousness. As if to mark her self-assurance, she freely took from the water that Sergeant Fredricks had placed on the table, and broke some of the dry bread.

Taking a small bite, chewing silently and lost in thought, she she strode about the small cabin, growing ever more impatient, throwing glances out the small window every now and then. The sun was already lower in the sky, the meadows glittered in the golden light of the afternoon and the trees threw sleepy shadows. What would the coming hours bring?

***

So that was the “evil monarch” that Sir Eduard had spoken of? This boy? Incredulous, Therese stood amongst the other castle folk, hoping to be well-hidden behind another man’s back. Prince Edward’s men had rounded up every single man and woman in the castle, down to the last kitchen boy and not wanting to attract more attention by resisting, Therese had joined the others. With the occupier’s soldiers sniffing out every last hole and corner in the enemy castle, there had been no place left to hide.

The blonde girl had trembled as she had watched the Prince’s army pass the castle gate, but now, as she first laid eyes upon the victor, her fears and bitter memories of slain Thomas momentarily vanished.

And another thought: how hard to believe that this young man who looked so awkwardly out of place in his armour, amongst these soldiers, was the man who had claimed such a bloody and definite victory over Lawrence de Courtney. Yes, Sir Lawrence had been power-hungry, not a good man maybe, not free of fault, but he had been one of the most skilled commanders in these lands. And this boy had forced de Courtney to flee so hastily that the feared rebel, the only one to truly endanger the King’s reign, fell off his horse and broke his neck?

Only a pact with the devil could have brought about such an outrageous outcome.

And yet there he stood, mimicking the royal victor. From under lowered lashes, her eyes wearily scanned the courtyard, almost afraid to spot her mistress amongst the gathered crowd. But Lady Eleonore was nowhere to be seen. Instead, her eyes fell on a soldier standing just a few paces away, who was staring straight at her, and when he noticed her attention, his lips curled into a hungry smile. The young woman froze, and quickly looked away. Oh lord, please let evening be here. With one hand, she felt the reassuring outline of the knife resting against her thigh. Where was Lady Eleonore? Therese then watched as Sir Eduard made a few steps in the Prince’s direction and dropped to his knee, bowing his head in humility before his lord and judge.

Anxiously, Therese held her breath.

 

[MrAdam]

Barely a quarter of an hour after Godrick returned to the cabin with the message, the sound of thundering hooves could be heard along the track.
“Who’s that?” called Fredricks, from inside the hut. He hoped it was de Reynaux, or further word from him. All this made him nervous. He had all but ignored the girl, not from rudeness or malice, but from doubt as to what to say. He knew nothing of her intentions or her mission, and knew better than to ask. So he kept his own counsel. He would have preferred to stand watch from outside, but he saw the hunger in the eyes of a couple of his men, especially Osgar. He hoped they were not stupid enough to try anything if left unsupervised, but he was not leaving anything to chance.
“Riders…” replied Godrick from outside. “Friendly colours….. it’s the General.”

William de Reynaux reined in his horse, and vaulted deftly from the saddle. Two bodyguards were with him, and dismounted rather more slowly a few metres behind their commander.
“In there, my lord” confirmed Godrick, in response to his unspoken query.
“Excellent” said William, “let’s meet our new friend, then.”
William strode into the cabin, a smile playing on his lips. He wore black leather armour, more comfortable and less bulky than the usual plate, or the chain that his bodyguards wore. His long green cloak was still wrapped around him, affording a degree of anonymity as well as warmth on his travels.
He caught sight of Eleonore, smiled at her, and looked her carefully up and down, his gaze finishing searchingly on her pretty face. His smile was almost boyish; a knowing, happy smile, taking pleasure in the presence of beauty. There was none of the hunger with which most soldiers would look at her. But his gaze was shamelessly, wilfully impertinent.

“Leave us” he said, addressing the Sergeant and his patrol, and his bodyguards lurking in the doorway. “I believe the lady wishes to speak to me.”
He waited a few moments.
“Alone at last” he said, with a wink, before adopting a more formal tone.
“I am Lord William de Reynaux. I am cousin to the King, and commander of his forces here. Now, what, I wonder, can I do for you?”



Prince Edward watched in satisfaction as the castle’s inhabitants were herded together. Once that task was performed, he started to speak. Although no warlord, the young Princeling was a passable speaker. He spoke of rebellion as a sin, against the King and against God, and of the fate that would befall all traitors. He spoke of the example that the fall of de Courtney gave to all, from the highest to the lowest, of the dangers of pride and of rebellion. He spoke of the natural order, from God through the angels and saints through Kings and Princes and Lords and Gentry down to servants and serfs, and of the harmony of the grand design, of everyone and everything in their just place in the well ordered kingdom. He spoke of the bounteous rewards that God would shower upon the well ordered land, where rulers ruled and the ruled followed. He spoke, and spoke, and spoke, and spoke. On and on and on, until even his adjutants were shifting uncomfortably, one stifling a yawn. Eventually he forced himself to a conclusion. Servants were to serve their new masters, after re-swearing oaths of allegiance to the King, as they served their old. Mercy was to come at the price of threats of dire punishments for any who would not accept his beneficence. Eventually, he ordered everyone about their business – with new stewards from the victorious army seeking to put the castle to rights.

“What about the captain, your Majesty?” asked Sir Harald, a knight in the service of the Prince, but whom he rightly suspected of paying greater allegiance to de Reynaux.
“Hmm?” he replied. The Prince had rather hoped that something would happen to take the kneeling figure out of his sight without him having to make a decision. On the one hand, the captain was following the orders of his feudal superior, but on the other, he had willingly taken arms against the King. Should he have him killed? Would that set the right tone, or not? Would killing him incite rebellion? Would not killing him make him seem weak? What would de Reynaux do…? Damn it!
“Shall I have him imprisoned for now, and brought before the Command Council later, your majesty?” asked Harald, a little too helpfully.
“Yes…. yes, do that. Now then, I want to see my new quarters…..”

 

[Sweet_Denna]

As the sound of approaching riders could be heard, Eleonore stiffened, and listened intently. From outside, she heard a guard announced that it was the general who was arriving, and again she wondered who this mysterious man might be and what the meaning of all this secrecy was.

She did not know what she had actually expected, but when the general finally entered the small cabin, the young woman stiffened: his beauty, youth and confident grace intimidated and surprised her. Against her will, Eleonore blushed deeply and had to look away, immediately angry at herself – and at this man who had thrown her off balance like this. Dropping into a slight curtsy, she bowed her head. “My Lord.” How to react to his entrance? While he was the general of the winning army, he was not remarkably higher than her in standing; and despite his victory and his kin, he was still only a tool for the King and his emissary, the Prince. Feeling her cheeks regain their former colour of warm honey, she looked up at him again. He ordered his soldiers to leave them, and when the door was closed, Eleonore felt uncomfortably trapped. His expression did not inspire any feelings of threat or danger, but the young noblewoman was not naive enough to completely rule out unsavoury intentions on his part.

At his introduction, she bowed her head again. “I am sure that you already know who I am?” The corners of her mouth hinted at a smile. Eleonore was unsure of what she should reveal to this man. She also wondered if the secrecy of their meeting was cause for concern or rather reason for relief.

“My Lord”, she finally said, after a long moment of silence. “I had hoped that I would speak to the man that has the power to decide about the fate of this castle and these lands, as well as of all the people in it.” There was a moment’s hesitation. Eleonore sensed that she was walking a very fine line; that she had to be careful not to vex him, but that the open display of too much weakness would in no way further her cause either. “Did his Majesty, the Prince, give you the authority to speak and act in his name?” Eleonore’s gaze strayed to the window once again, to the rolling hills, the sea, the fields and forests that lay beyond it. “Does he know you are negotiating in these matters?”

She bit her lip. Had she gone too far? And besides...negotiating? There was no need for negotiation anymore; the lands of her uncle and every soul inhabiting it had already been reclaimed for the King. The time for negotiation had long passed. Nervously, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Should she kneel before him as she certainly would have before the Prince? Was he the man she should beseech for mercy? Her pride, however, did not allow it. Frowning, she remembered his impolite, almost mocking stare, his wink! But he was the Prince’s kin, his general, surely his Majesty would lend him his ear? Again, Eleonore wished nothing more than to be a man, and thus de Reynaux’ equal.

Still avoiding his gaze, she muttered: “You must think that I am a silly fool for attempting this. I should have run, like all the others.” One finger trailed along the edge of the table, as she was for a moment lost in thought. Then she looked up, and raised her voice to a steadier, almost aggressive tone. “But I have not because the safety and prosperity of these people that my uncle has failed so terribly is of great concern to me.” She made a step in his direction. “I wish to regain his Majesty’s trust, and to rule over my uncle’s lands in his name.”

***

Therese had trouble to listen to the young Princes’ words that kept rolling from his tongue in a steady, endless stream. Would he never stop? Poor Sir Eduard, who had to support all this talk kneeling before the victor, his head bent in sham and defeat! The blonde girl had to press her hands over her mouth more than once to suppress a yawn; but as everybody else, she did not dare to neither stir nor walk away. In the meantime, her concern for her absent Lady grew with every passing minute. What if, God forbid, something had happened to her? The terrified Therese could not help but imagine the most colourful atrocities; her tired mind carried her to even think of Barbarian hordes landing on the shores unseen, while everybody was distracted by the Princes’ long speech.

But then, finally, he concluded, obviously lost at what to do with the defeated army’s captain. Sir Eduard had not moved a muscle, and even now, did not stir or look up. Therese watched as two soldiers led him away, he was probably under arrest. The sun was about to set, and the young woman decided that she would have to set out to look for her mistress, if she did not want to depart without her; an option that was utterly out of the question. But how would she slip by all these soldiers, the Prince’s guards, the hungry stares? Maybe, just maybe, she could try the small door that Lady Eleonore had passed earlier?

 

[MrAdam]

William noted her blush with satisfaction. His charm gave him license for behaviour that would most likely be seen as boorish from anyone without his advantages, and he always enjoyed making pretty girls blush. And this one was very, very pretty indeed. Lovely, in fact. He watched her intently, looking for clues as to her character and intent. The blush told him much. For one thing, it meant she was unused to men – or at least to men like him. Her hair was uncovered, so most likely she was unmarried. But her skin was a little tanned, she wore no jewellery, and her dress was simple. Was it an attempt at a disguise? Probably not, he thought. Most likely she was something of a tomboy – probably wilful, headstrong, with pretensions to independence. Good. Simpering, decorated, courtly show-fillies bored him. No challenge. This one, on the other hand…. this one could be very entertaining indeed.

Making her blush had thrown her. William decided to exploit it, especially as she now seemed a little nervous. He fixed her with an expression of amused curiosity as she spoke, his head canted to the right to show that he was listening intently. He decided on a tactic that he had used before – to say as little as possible, and try to use the silence. She had wanted an audience with him, after all.

“I am sure that you already know who I am?”

William did not answer, but merely nodded his head, almost imperceptibly, his eyebrow raised quizzically. His posture and expression posted the question – “well?”. He let the silence flow in, not fearing it. She was fishing for something, something about what he knew about her, what his attitude to her might be. He was not about to fall for that. He ignored the bait, and waited for her next move.

“My Lord, I had hoped that I would speak to the man that has the power to decide about the fate of this castle and these lands, as well as of all the people in it.”

Again, William did not answer verbally. Instead, he just gestured, opening his hands out in front of him and bowing his head slightly, indicating that he was indeed that man. But he offered no explanation or justification for his claim.

“Did his Majesty, the Prince, give you the authority to speak and act in his name? Does he know you are negotiating in these matters?”

Another baited line was cast into the conversation. This at least was more successful in eliciting a response.
“I have the authority” William smiled, deliberately not answering either question. His tone implied that so much was obvious to them both. He did not rise to the ‘negotiation’ gambit, but it did not escape his notice either. It mattered little whether she thought it was a negotiation or not, as long as he got what he wanted. But this seemed to confirm his earlier view – independent and wilful. Probably she wishes she was born a man. But the concern for the lands and people was interesting…. Where did that come from, and where was this going?

“You must think that I am a silly fool for attempting this. I should have run, like all the others. But I have not because the safety and prosperity of these people that my uncle has failed so terribly is of great concern to me.”

Interesting, he thought. Where was this going? Distancing herself from her uncle was a sound gambit. She could legitimately claim to have had no say in his actions, and play the innocent victim. But she did not look like she was going to throw herself on his mercy, or even just throw herself on him. Good. He liked the thrill of the chase.

“I wish to regain his Majesty’s trust, and to rule over my uncle’s lands in his name.”

This threw William completely. He stared at her for a moment, and then suddenly started to laugh in surprise and amusement. The thought that she might have meant what she said took a little longer to register.

“Oh, I am sorry. You were being serious. I do apologise. I am sorry, my dear, but that is completely out of the question. Completely. I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but you must understand your position. Not only are you a relative of a traitor to the King, but you were also in his lands during the rebellion. I am sorry, Eleonore, but you now have no power, no influence, no property, and no friends. You are quite alone.”

His voice was quiet, his tone gentle and concerned, explaining the realities of the situation to a slow pupil.

“You have no idea how much you owe to the Sergeant for bringing you to me. I am an honourable man, Eleonore, but my fellows…. well…. some of them would, in my place, be putting quite improper proposals to you. Do you understand? With some of them, there would be no element of proposal at all. You coming to me asking for these lands was the height of folly and naivety, and to other ears… well, I cannot say what the Prince would have made of your petition, but I can say with absolute confidence that you would have ample cause to regret your words. You are in a vulnerable position in a dangerous world, Eleonore, and the sooner you realise this, the better."

 

[Sweet_Denna]

The way he played with her angered Eleonore; it was very clear that he did not take her seriously, that he found her amusing, as one maybe would an adorable little pet. His silence urged her on to speak, to say maybe more than she should have. And then: he laughed at her! Her hazel eyes narrowed as she listened to his bemused replies to her questions, to his flat-out refusal to even consider her demand. That he omitted her title, that he called her by her first name as if they were acquainted for a long time, outraged her: who was he to treat her with such disrespect?

Each and every of his words was patronizing arrogance, and as he had ended, the young woman did not feel the need to withhold her anger over his affront. She was almost tempted to spit in his face that she did indeed have friends, and family, that wished to help her, that a boat was waiting for her this very night, that no, she was not alone. Despite her rage, she did however acknowledge that revealing her plan to him would be most unwise and would not change his attitude towards her in the slightest. But who did he think he was?

“As grateful as I am for your lecture, my Lord, rest assured that I am not in need of your wise counsel.” Her eyes had narrowed, while a humourless smile underlined the dripping cynicism of her words. “I am indeed related to a traitor and a tyrant, but alas, I did not choose these ties of blood and kinship. And yes, I was residing in these lands when de Courtney was foolish enough to raise his hand against his sovereign, but not by my own decision. “

She raised her eyebrows in a mocking expression. “Am I guilty then, of being related to the wrong man; a man with a most unsavoury reputation and of dishonourable actions? Because in this case, my Lord, you might find yourself quite on the spot yourself, and should not judge me so hastily.”

Eleonore fell silent for a moment, realizing that she had just wilfully insulted the Prince; even the King, if de Reynaux wished to interpret her words that way. Lese majesty; not a small crime, and not a wise offence for the niece of a traitor, but she did not care. The words had been spoken, should he make of them whatever he wished. Of course, she did wonder what his plans for her were; would he let her go? And should she give up, only because this condescending commander told her that she did not stand a chance? Elenore’s temper and her stubbornness edged her on to try him: “While I trust your judgement, my Lord, you surely understand that matters of such proportions should still be brought before his Majesty, the Prince?”

Oh, in some corner of her mind she realized how far she had ventured, that she was very much in over her head. Silently, she cursed her haste, her utter inability to hold her tongue, but her face betrayed nothing of her regrets. On the other hand she caught herself thinking that, if he refused to let her speak to the Prince, he would have no other choice than to let her go, lest his sovereign would find out about her presence. And had he not called himself an “honourable man”? Was he indeed such a rare specimen? Eleonore sensed that she would find out all of this, and very soon.

***

Therese had safely made it out the secret back door that was supposed to lead both her and Lady Eleonore to the seashore and into freedom; but now the blonde girl had set off on her own, worried and anxious to find her mistress. As Sir Eduard had predicted, the victors were too intoxicated by their triumph and the well-filled wine cellar that Sir Lawrence had somehow managed to stir through the rebellion unharmed, when all other repertories had started to be dangerously low on stock. Dusk had started to wrap the land in low fog that swirled slowly through the meadow; maybe her mistress had gotten lost?

The air started to cool, and Therese felt the sea breeze kiss goose bumps on her skin. My Lady, where have you gone? She stood on top of the path that Eleonore had used only a few hours earlier, wondering if it was safe to stray further down into the meadow. Her fingers nervously dug into the fabric of her dress as she carefully set one foot in front of the other; unknowingly following her mistresses’ trail. Without Lady Eleonore, she could not leave; and to leave was all she desired.

 

[MrAdam]

William listened, saying nothing, letting his silence draw her ever deeper, trying to make her say more than she intended to fill the silence or to provoke a reaction. His manner was initially one of curious amusement, which gradually shifted to a kind of benevolent concern. She had just given him ample cause to punish her for her none-too-veiled criticism of the King, and although pulling the impudent minx over his knee was deliciously tempting, he knew that the longer game would be more satisfying in the end.

“Let me make sure I understand you correctly” he answered, speaking slowly and thoughtfully, as if reasoning out a tricky problem. “You want to rule these lands. You reject your uncle, and damn him as a fool, a knave, and a traitor. You claim you are none of those things. Yet in your next breath you accuse our dread sovereign lord of dishonourable actions. You have the spirit of a leader, that I freely grant, but you lack the wisdom or the discretion of one.”
His tone changed, suddenly darker and serious. His voice dropped to a whisper as he looked her straight in the face.
“Men have lost their heads for less than what you just said, Eleonore.”

He let that comment hang in the air for one, two, three heartbeats before breaking into a broad grin.
“Fortunately for you I care little for your opinion of the King. Make a remark like that in front of the Princeling, though, and it will be a different story. He is his father’s son in his vices, but not in his virtues. Believe me when I say that he is the last person you want to be brought before – well, second only to the King. If you go to him asking for these lands, he’ll laugh at you. And then he will take you for his own. You will be little better than his slave, and you will be serving at his table in your undergarments, scampering to avoid the kiss of his flogger, before you know it. After he is bored of you, he will hand you over to the King, and everything you endured up to then will seem as nothing.”

“Listen, Eleanore… you’re a bright girl, so think carefully about the situation you’re in. Imagine that you’re the King. Your brilliant, charming, and devilishly handsome general has just crushed a very serious rebellion, no thanks to your idiot son. You know you have enemies. You know for a fact that others would have risen and joined the rebellion had the early battles gone another way. You know for a fact that they will wait for their chance in the future. Knowing all this, what would you do with anyone – and I mean anyone – connected with de Courtney? Would you give you your lands back? Would you? What sort of message does that send? That the bill for treason is paid by the life of the traitor only? No. It means the end of the house. No-one will be left in power. Not all will die by any means - most will live in ignominy and humiliation. There is nothing like the knowledge that your wife and daughters will end up as little more than whores to dissuade one from rebellion. An impetuous man will risk himself, but only a fool risks his loved ones. I can tell you exactly what the King will do with you if he finds you if you really want to know.”

“So, you ever ruling in these lands is out of the question, as I told you. But your fate is not sealed in other ways. If you are so desperate to make the Princeling’s acquaintance, I will have you sent to him with my compliments, but that sits ill with me. I don’t know – something just seems wrong and unnatural about a man like that enslaving a girl like you. It would be like a mere peasant boy owning a falcon, or a novice horseman with a magnificent war horse. No. There is an order to the world, and handing you over to him would be against that order.”

 

[Sweet_Denna]

His silence made her nervous. Angry. She realized that it also made her recklessly stumble into her own words – and Eleonore was suddenly painfully aware that she did indeed still have a lot to lose. Should she not simply have given in, ask him for forgiveness, kiss his hand, and then hope that he would leave it at that, apparently glad himself if the matter was not brought before his Majesty? But her pride, her spirit, and her conscience did not allow it.

When she had finished, and he finally spoke again, his voice had slightly shifted in colour. The patronizing tint was still very much there, but the smile had dropped from his lips. Was he angry? The young woman was careful not to show her anxiety, but the weight of his gaze – of his beautiful eyes, she caught herself thinking – was very difficult to bear. “You have the spirit of a leader, that I freely grant, but you lack the wisdom or the discretion of one.” She looked at him, surprised. As absurd as it was in her current situation; she felt a brief sting of affection. How often had she heard these words from Sir Eduard in the past? I will learn, she wanted to blurt out. I will grow. But what he said next kept her silent: “Men have lost their heads for less than what you just said, Eleonore.”

The young noblewoman tried not to flinch. Yes, of course. For the length of a few frightened, agonizing heartbeats, he stared at her, his expression indiscernible, letting his words – his verdict? – sink in. Eleonore had to finally break the gaze.

And then – he smiled! She frowned, first confused about the sudden change, and then amazed while she listened to him insulting the victorious Prince himself. Her eyes widened at the general’s description of his Majesty’s debauchery. His commander was surely exaggerating? Surely this was a tale he wanted to scare her, that he wanted to colour her cheeks with? She could not help but smile at what he said, and whispered in reply: “It seems as if his Majesty’s reputation is well-earned. And well-deserved.” Secretly, in a hidden part of her mind, she wondered what life at such a King’s court must be like. Imagining half-nude noblewomen scurry around the young Prince’s table almost forced a giggle from her throat. The general was joking, he must have been. Eleonore then imagined him, de Reynaux. Her mouth went dry. Did he take pleasure in such sinful tales?

But he was not done. Eleonore’s hazel eyes clearly told of her amusement as he spoke of himself as being “brilliant, charming, and devilishly handsome”. The rest of his words, however, were of little good humour. He would not help her. It was clear that for him, the matter was finished.

“It is the way of men like you and the King that they never consider the will of the falcon, or the horse. Both would by many times prefer to belong to neither peasant nor nobleman, but to roam free.” She bowed slightly. “I thank you then for your time, my Lord” – there it was again, the spiteful cynicism – “and am grieved to see that my pleading has not found a way to soften your brilliant and charming heart.” Should she insist on being taken to the Prince? “But as I said before, the people of these lands are of concern to me. If you have the authority, I would like to...” She was interrupted by a woman’s distant outcry. Eleonore froze. That voice was familiar.

***

Therese had half slipped, half walked down the narrow path, her beating heart dampening her capability of thought. She was afraid alone out here, and wished for nothing more than to find her mistress, and find the boat that would take her into safety. But what if something had happened to Lady Eleonore? Some animals, maybe? Some rogue soldiers? She accelerated her steps. And what would she do? This damned war. This damned hunger for ever more power. A treacherous sting in her eyes announced angry tears. Her life could have been so very different. It should have been. Just a few days ago everything had still seemed possible, everything had been...

Her distraction, and if only for that brief second, had taken her attention from the overgrown path, and when her left foot got caught in a curled-up root, she stumbled, trying to hold on to a branch, reached out for it, but her fingers only brushed the leafs, before she fell, with a surprised outcry, slipping down the hill. There was the crackling of dry wood, rustling leaves, and when she finally came to rest, Therese held her breath in fear. Whoever was out here, knew now of her presence. She needed to get up, and leave. Run. With a moan of panic, she realized that she could not. Her ankle protested when she tried.

 

[MrAdam]

William watched her reaction carefully. He wasn’t sure whether she thought he was lying, or whether she had just failed to take in what she had been saying to her. He thought it more likely to be the latter. She was confident and spirited, but it was confidence that stemmed from ignorance and naivety. She was even intending to walk away, talking as if the interview were over! Interesting that she stressed again the well-being of the people – there had to be a way to use that… perhaps if….

William’s plotting was cut short by a faint but clear yelp of alarm. Instinctively his hand started to creep towards the hilt of his sword. A trap? No, unlikely. The voice was almost certainly female. And it was clear from the look of Eleanore’s face that she knew who it was.

“Friend of yours?” he asked. “Don’t you worry. I’m sure my men will rescue your friend from whatever distress she finds herself in.
“Fredricks!” he called, “Investigate, would you?”
“Yes, my Lord!” came the Sergeant’s shouted reply.


Fredricks had already motioned Osgar and Godrick to go and investigate, while the rest remained outside the cabin as if billeted there. But on the General’s orders, he broke into a brisk jog to catch them up as they heading briskly out of the clearing in the direction of the noise. Whoever it was could not be more than a few minutes away at most.

The three soldiers moved through the woodland at a slow jog, moving relatively quietly and listening for further sounds, alert to the possibility of an ambush. They approached a steep downward slope, perhaps from an old river bed or a long abandoned-quarry.

“Careful” cautioned Fredricks, sensing the loose earth and leaves beneath his feet. He slowed his pace and picked his way carefully to the top of the slope, and stared down. He appeared over the ridge, a battle-hardened veteran soldier. His two younger colleagues, one a fresh-faced wide-eyed youth, the other an experienced campaigner with a hint of malice about him, appeared either side of their leader, all looking down into the gully.
“Don’t move!” Fredricks barked down. “You’re coming with us!”
Without being told, Osgar and Godrick split off a little from their Sergeant, one either side, starting to encircle their prey as they made their way cautiously but quickly down the steep incline.

 

[Sweet_Denna]

Alarmed, Eleonore looked out the window, knowing that she would not be able to discern anything through the foggy dusk. This was not good. Not good at all. She felt his eyes on her; felt him watching her reaction to this unanticipated interruption of their conversation; it made her uneasy and angry. But at this moment, her worries were with that girl outside in the woods; her voice had sounded scared and in distress. Eleonore was almost certain that it was Therese.

Slowly, she turned around to face de Reynaux who had given his sergeant the order to investigate the incident. For a moment, the noblewoman was lost for words. She was unsure of what to reveal to de Reynaux; on the one hand, she would have preferred not to tell him anything about her allies, but on the other hand, she was afraid for Therese’s safety. If the silly girl had ventured out of the castle on her own – Eleonore felt a strong pang of guilt thinking that her maid had probably been looking for her – she might very well have brought herself in grave danger.

“I might have been mistaken, my Lord. But the voice resembled that of my friend and maid Therese.”

She would have liked to say something else; something to demonstrate unwavering confidence, but she was unable to. How stupid she had been! How naive! What an utter fool she was! Of course Therese must have been worried sick and went out to find her mistress; and heaven alone knew what had happened with Sir Eduard and his men in the meantime. Why on earth had she ever thought that this was a good idea? Eleonore caught the commander’s glance; and believed to read mockery in it. And why would he not? The guilt she now felt made her blush in anger; she turned around, not wishing for him to see it.

“I am sure your men will save the poor girl from any danger that might have befallen her.” Oh sweet Lord. What now?

***

Therese silently cursed her stupidity and her clumsiness. Against the evening sky, she had seen the head of the man that had been calling out to her, but there were clearly more than one, and now they were on their way down to the spot where she was trapped. Again, she tried to get up. Tears welled up in her eyes as she tried to suppress a groan of pain; her ankle was hurt. Nevertheless, the girl got on her feet, pulling herself up awkwardly by the lower branches of the trees around her. Therese stood there for the moment of a few hectic heartbeats, trying to catch her breath. Still: would her ankle have been healthy, she might have been able to escape through the thick underbrush and out of their sight, but like this? No. Running was clearly not an option.

Her eyes wide with fear, she gazed up between the brushes where the men would very soon appear. Soft cracking and the rustle of dried leaves announced their arrival; the girl shivered like a wounded fawn. Therese had no idea who these men were; but chances were that they were soldiers of the enemy camp. The voice of the man had sounded like he was clearly used to giving orders. And who else was venturing in these woods on this day of victory? Only fools like me, she thought bitterly. Lady Eleonore will not be pleased. Where will they take me?

She remembered the blade that she had hidden under her garments. A ridiculous weapon against these men, but better than nothing. Hectically, she hiked up the hem of her dress and pulled the hunting knife from its scabbard. The heavy thing felt soothing in her hand; familiar. The metal glinted in the light of dusk. Therese felt the fear squeeze her chest, she had trouble breathing. Oh dear Lord, give me a steady hand and the will to defend myself. I beg you.

The sounds were so close now that they would surely appear any moment now. Therese tucked a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear, and her gaze shifted nervously from tree to tree, brush to brush. ‘Come on, you cowards’, she whispered to herself. ‘I am ready for you.’

 

[MrAdam]

Friend and Maid? Interesting. Not only was she friends with her servants, she also could not resist telling him that this Therese was her friend too. Either that friendship was so important to her that she could not bring herself to hide it… or it never occurred to her that she ought to that kind of information to herself. Or both. A picture was certainly starting to form. She was a princess living in her own private fairytale… she was beautiful, kind, caring, and full of noblesse oblige. But her ‘wicked uncle’ had turned her fairytale life into a nightmare, and perhaps she was only now starting to realise it. Only now when her folly had put her friend in danger. Well, fortunately for the damsel in distress, here was Lord William to be her knight in shining armour. In a manner of speaking…. from a certain point of view, anyway.

He wondered about the maid. It was difficult to tell, but she did not sound like an old crone. Would it be too much to hope for that the maid would be as comely as the mistress? Plain noblewomen had plain maids, but Eleanore would surely have no concerns about being out-shone by any maidservant. Fingers crossed.

He did not respond to Eleanore’s answer directly. Instead he just gazed at her, his expression a mixture of incredulity and bemusement. You let your friend wander round by herself? At dusk? With an invading army in the field? You call yourself a leader?

He watched the beginnings of her blush as she turned away, and smiled to himself in satisfaction at seeing his subtle barbs find their target. In truth, it was more her own guilty conscience that accused her, not him. So much the better.

“I am sure your men will save the poor girl from any danger that might have befallen her” she said.

“That was a cry of shock and surprise, not of pain or mortal terror” said William, softly, “at least if I am any judge.” He did not elaborate on the source of his knowledge of feminine yelps.
He stepped forward behind her, and lightly placed his hands on her shoulders.
“I offer you and your friend my protection” he whispered slowly, “if you follow my advice, I can keep you both safe, and keep you out of the Princeling’s grasp. You cannot help your people as his plaything.” William’s tone was honey – warm, reassuring, quiet, kind.



Osgar stopped still in his tracks and stared, grinning stupidly at the unexpected treat of a glimpse of thigh.
“Don’t stop there!” he called, laughing.
The knife did not concern him in the slightest. Three veteran soldiers, armed and armoured, against one girl with a hunting knife. In any case, he would make sure that he wasn’t first to her. No need to take risks.
“Drop that, and no-one gets hurt!” ordered Fredricks, as he moved directly towards her. He made no attempt to draw his sword, relying instead on force of will, common sense, and, if it came to it, his reactions. “We have orders to bring you to the General.”
Godwin moved quickly to approach her from the side. He also did not draw his sword, but was ready to pounce if the word was given.

 

[Sweet_Denna]

She stiffened when she felt his hands resting on her shoulders. How brazen! With a swift movement, she stepped forward to free herself of his grasp, and turned around to face him.

“My Lord, while I appreciate your kind offer of protection, your behaviour gives me reason to believe that you are very much your Prince’s knight, in every sense.” Her eyes flared at him while she – almost without noticing it herself – slowly backed off from him. Eleonore suspected that her hasty confessions and her insecurity had given him the confidence to assume she would not object to certain...liberties. “I cannot help my people as anybody’s plaything.” She spat the word out in disgust. While I am at your mercy in some ways, I still expect your respect.”

There was a moment’s silence. The young woman did not know how to proceed. Maybe she was unjust to suspect dishonourable actions on his part? Was she acting too much like a flustered maiden in doing so? Again, she could feel her cheeks warming with a blush. Oh Lord, why had she been born a woman at all? Eleonore clenched her fists in nervous distress, and again did not manage to look him in the eyes. She cursed her own nervousness. What was it that caused her to stutter like a little girl caught in an embarrassing lie?

Eleonore swallowed and forced herself to look at him again. “My Lord, what advice do you have to give to me and to my maid-servant? If you want to save me from his Majesty, you cannot want for us to stay in these lands, unless you want the trophy you deny your sovereign for yourself.” Her heart was beating fast in her chest, but she did not lower her gaze this time. “You offer me and Therese protection? For what price, my Lord?”

Eleonore silently wondered why he was ready to take such a risk. She was almost certain that he committed serious treason by not telling the Prince that he had found and captured the last living family member of de Courtney in these lands. Should his commander ever find out about this, his life would not be worth very much anymore. So why? Fine, two young women were probably a fine incentive for any man to take a few risks, but someone like him – and again she felt her chest tightening – had surely no difficulties to find, well, whatever it was that men usually wanted from women. De Reynaux most certainly had another agenda, some plan that he did not reveal to her.

But for now, she continued. “And what kind of protection could you offer us? I why would I ever trust you when you have just proven with that very offer that you would betray your rightful sovereign for the first stranger that crosses your path?”

She took a deep breath. Maybe it was better if she was silent for a little while, too.

***

Therese let her eyes shift hectically from each soldier to the next, while she steadied herself with one hand against the bark of a tree, brandishing the hunting knife in the other. One of them directly approached her, obviously the leader, judging by his manners and dress.

General? What general? Her thoughts were racing. But if they were to take her to that man, whoever it was, if that were their orders, they would not hurt her right there and then. Right? Therese looked at the soldier who had spoken to her with the fearful eyes of a wounded deer. And what choices did she have. Even if she did manage to cause one of them some minor harm, it would only fan the anger his comrades. With shaking fingers, she let the blade fall to the ground.

 

[MrAdam]

William made no attempt to prevent her from stepping away from him. Rather, he took a step back himself and assumed an expression of mild surprise, with just a hint at hurt feelings that his entirely innocent gesture of consolation had been so callously misinterpreted.

As before, he let her talk until she ran out of things to say. First she reproached and insulted him, then she asked his counsel, then the price for protection, and finally back to provocation again, as if to try to make good any weakness shown or concession made by enquiring further about his offer. She was a proud one, he thought. Determined to save face, to maintain the fiction that she was still in control of her own destiny, that things were not as they are. A lesser man, a less creative man, would waste no time in disabusing her of such notions in a very direct and painful manner. But, William thought, how much more fun it would be to play along with her game, and see where it would take them. Let’s see, he thought, whether it was true that flattery could get one anywhere.

“You are right to ask the questions you ask, Eleanore. And you’re right to be suspicious of any man and of his motives. I apologise if my gesture offended you – it is considered entirely appropriate for a knight to console a lady in distress in such away at court these days, but I should have known that you would not be aware of this new fashion” he lied. “More pertinently, I should explain the situation to you so that you may make an informed decision. As I said, you are right to be suspicious. Let me tell you of my situation, and of my plans for the future.”

William paused, looking around him as if watching for spies or eavesdroppers. He lowered his voice, and pulled up one of the rough wooden stools and sat down.
“This is all about power, Eleanore. All of it. Land, money, and fame too, but all of those are only as good as the power they will earn. The army came here for de Courtney’s head in a sack, along with any nobles who would turn traitor, and to take these lands out of the hands of the enemies of the king, and into the hands of his allies. That is what this is about. That is the feast. You, my dear, are merely the cherry on top of a dessert in comparison. With the service I have been honoured to deliver to my dread lord his majesty the King, I earn a certain amount of discretion, of freedom of action. If your maid… your friend…. went to the market to pick up a few things for you, makes a good selection and gets a good price, you would not begrudge her a little something for herself?”

“Yet make no mistake. The Princeling and the King, if they knew you were here, if they knew of your existence, would want to make a very public example of you to serve as a warning to others. But a much bigger example has already been made. No doubt the King would be displeased if he discovered that I kept you from him, but my account is in ample credit, I assure you. And who would blame me if I did decide to keep you for myself? I am the King’s loyal subject, but I am only human” he smiled.

“But be assured, that’s not why I offer you my protection.” William looked around again, and spoke quieter still. “I do not lack for agreeable company, Eleanore, and I take no pleasure in taking in violent conquest what should be sweetly surrendered. You take my meaning, I hope? I will not take what is not offered. No, my intentions are different. I tire of war, Eleanore, and the atmosphere at court stifles me. I want air to breathe. I want my own lands. I want these lands, Eleanore, and I have expectations that they will be given to me. But I am a stranger to them, and I need counsel. You will never rule here in your own right – nor will any kin of de Courtney – but you can help me. You can speak for the common people.”

“But things are complicated, and nothing is certain. What I want is for the Princeling to return with the army, and leave me and a few detachments of my own troops here, to start the process of putting things to rights here. But things are delicate, and my hopes rest on a knife edge. If you want my protection, the price is this: firstly, I want your honest counsel when I start to put these lands to rights; secondly, you must obey me in all things until that day.”

“But you asked my advice on what you should do. You have three options. Firstly, you may go the Princeling as you intended, but I advise you most strongly against it, unless you have a particular wish to be paraded in slinky silks as his plaything. Secondly, you can find some more virtuous and discreet nobleman and trade your virtue for protection. I can recommend a few who would treat you well enough, and take you from this pace at once to safety. Thirdly, there is my offer. But I will not lie to you. If I am to protect you, and keep you from feeling the sting of the Princeling’s lash, I must pass you off as a lady-in-waiting with whom I have reached an understanding, and I must keep you here. I will hide you away as best I can, but you must do your part in maintaining the charade.”

“If you want an easy life, I would recommend the second option. But if you’re serious about helping the common people here, and about righting the wrongs in these lands, and if you’re willing to make sacrifices and risk hardships and humiliations to achieve this, I offer it to you. To you and to your friend.”


* * * * *


“Good girl” said Fredricks, “very sensible”
Osgar and Godwin quickly approached Therese from either side, moving to half-support, half-manhandle her back towards the cabin.
Fredricks followed and picked up the knife.
“Can you walk, or shall they carry you?” he asked.

 

[Sweet_Denna]

She let him speak. There had been moments that she had wanted to interrupt, that she felt so insulted by his words that she had difficulties not to cut his speech with yet another angry reply. A little something then – that was what she was in his eyes? A little cherry, the mere decoration of the elaborate and taunting dessert that were these lands, now void of its lord. The very most that she could ever aspire to then, was to be made an example of by the princeling, and one to be paraded in – what had he called it again? In slinky silks, yes. Eleonore watched him intently as he spoke, carefully sampling even the most discretely hinted expression from his features.

So he wanted these lands for himself. Again, she felt the sting of rage. How openly he admitted to his plans in front of the young woman who was the rightful heir to both ground and title! Yes, she was no threat no anyone, and certainly not a threat to him, and yes, her uncle’s betrayal had stripped her of any claims and rights that her family had ever held. And yet. And still! Her frown, her glance darkened by anger, her balled little fists certainly illustrated her emotions, but he simply ignored all of it.

Because he knew with the certainty of the victor what she only slowly comprehended: The time for pride and foolish dreams was over. For once, Eleonore forced herself to remain calm, to hear him out. His tone seemed honest enough, and she did not doubt for one moment that the part of his aspiring to become the new lord of her uncle’s lands was true. And by the time he had finished, her expression had changed from one of bitterness to one of honest surprise. Was he being serious?

Eleonore hesitated. As outrageous as his suggestion was, as surprising and as mad – she found herself contemplating to agree. Of course, he had duly omitted a fourth option – one that would not include male protection at all and offer both her and Therese safety. She wondered if he would let her and her maid-servant leave if she asked him to. The boat that Sir Eduard had arranged was undoubtedly still waiting at the shore, and would carry them to the South, and from there, they would be able to reach Jerusalem. All of this would soon be whispers of a distant past. But this dangerous plan he had just illustrated was much too tempting. To counsel him in political matters, to be his advisor when it came to the welfare of the people – no, she really had not expected him, the man who had referred to her as a ‘plaything’ so easily, to make such a suggestion. The doubt about his honesty spun around in her mind. Absolute obedience? The footfalls of such a vow were manifold, and Eleonore had a feeling that he was a little too sure of her gullibility. Had not his charming lie about knights comforting ladies at court revealed much of his mindset? But she was not angry about that, no, quite on the contrary. For the first time since they met, she smiled.

“My Lord”, she began. “I am sure that my behaviour must have given you ample reason to believe that I am a spoilt, naive noblewoman, a provincial girl with no experience in life.” There was a short pause. Eleonore decided to drop the mask of false pride and arrogance, sensing that he would then be more likely to follow her lead in this. There simply had to be an underlying plan to his revelations, one that he did not yet share. “And I do not blame you for it. My venturing into the fields of a recently lost battle was foolish, and I thank the Lord for letting my captor be a man as honourable and polite as you.” She felt better once these words were spoken. Relieved. More confident. With him seated, she did not have to look up at him anymore either.

“Your offer is very noble, and, I have to admit, it comes as a surprise. And while I agree that the Prince would probably not scold you for keeping...a little something for yourself, I am most certain that the plan you explained to me would endanger your relation to his Majesty, no matter how ample the credit you could – until now – fall back on.” Her voice was low, almost a whisper. “And who would believe the lie about me being a lady in waiting with close ties to a man such as yourself? Apologies for speaking so bluntly, my Lord, but everybody would simply assume that I was a whore. Your whore.” Her cheeks blushed deeply at these words, and she had to softly clear her throat before she continued. “That is why I have a suggestion to alter your plan slightly.”

She felt her heart pounding against her chest in anxiety. “If I am to act as your counsellor, and if you are honest about keeping me safe from any dishonest intentions, be it from the Prince or anybody else”, there was another pause, “let me take on a disguise that is sure to immediately spoil his Majesty’s interest.” Eleonore had to force herself to continue. “Unless he fancies the knaves of his trusted officers.”

The short silence that ensued, his face, his posture told her nothing about his response to her request. As before, his thoughts remained impenetrable by a mask of stillness. Eleonore was terrified that he would laugh at her, and why would he not? He did not know that she knew how to tend to a knight, Sir Eduard had found it useful to instruct her. She could at least hold a sword without making a complete fool out of herself, and her arching skills were maybe even above average. It was not much, and by far not worthy of the task she was now asking him to entrust her with, but it was...a start. It was a better disguise than the one he offered her, and much safer as long as she could convince her audience; of course if she failed, the price that both would have to pay would be very high indeed.

Almost as if afraid to hear his answer, she continued. “There is something else, my Lord.” Eleonore looked out the window, and listened intently for de Reynaux’ men to return, and to return with Therese. Her fingers wrapped around the wooden window sill, she tried to discern something in the falling darkness. Therese. Turning around to Sir William again, her face showed a hint of sadness that had not been there before.

“I am not alone to decide in this matter. Therese has been a very loyal servant, and almost the only friend within the walls of my uncle’s castle. I owe much to her.” How should she address this? And how much should she reveal? Experience had taught her that it was most unwise to give away possible weaknesses, and while she had decided to do so for herself, she did not want to make that same decision for her friend. “She might not want to stay in these lands. I have the means to take her to safer places, and I ask from you not to interfere if I do.”

“If you agree with all of these things, I agree to your terms, my Lord.”

***

Therese stiffened and lifted her chin. “I can walk by myself.” She threw hasty glances to the two soldiers that approached her from either side. “There is no need for assistance.” The sharp edge in her voice betrayed her fear that she tried so desperately to conceal. She tried to put more weight on her hurting ankle and winced in pain. But no matter. Anything was bearable compared to the thought of having these men – these murderers – touch her. Slowly, her fingers leaving the supporting tree only hesitatingly, she made two steps forward. It was clear that with her walking, the whole group would be slowed down remarkably.

 

[MrAdam]

He listened thoughtfully, furrowing his brow in a thoughtful thrown to mask his incredulity. Disguise herself as a boy! She really did believe that she lived in some kind of fairytale! It was an absurd suggestion… a huge risk in exchange for no clear benefit. It was one born of pride, he knew, and he must consider that pride in his response. There might also be some fun to be had in her suggestion, some advantage to be gained….

“Let me be clear, Eleanore. You are right, I do think you are naïve. I do think you were foolish in seeking the Princeling. But I think your naivety is a result of your sheltered life and your inexperience, not from your lack of wit. The Princeling is naïve too, but he has had all the education and experience that coin can buy, and it has all washed over him leaving no discernable trace but for a ravenous sense of entitlement and an utter blindness to his faults. You, on the other hand, have been quick to acknowledge your mistake and your shortcomings. You, I believe, will learn. He cannot, or will not. In short, Eleanore, you are worth a thousand of him.”

“I do not think you spoilt – at least no more so than any of us born to wealth and status. Believe me when I say that I know all about spoilt young noblewomen – silly, stupid, two-faced brats who believe the world exists to pander to their vanity, to pay their dressmakers and their jewellers, and to indulge their intrigues and their sports. You, Eleanore, are not of their number. While your dress is perfectly lovely, I doubt it placed undue strain on your uncle’s exchequer, and I do not believe you would have it otherwise. You count your maidservant as your friend. At court they treat their little dogs better than their maids. You are concerned for the common people. The harpies at court give them not a thought. In your situation, most of them would be throwing themselves at me, telling tales of woe and mistreatment, all heaving bosoms and crocodile tears.”

“You know what else you have? Spirit. Courage. You say what you think. Give me a soldier with wits, spirit, concern for those he leads, and a willingness to learn, then with time, training, and experience, I will give you a man fit to lead, be he the son of a peasant or a prince. Let me let you into a secret, Eleanore. As a General, as a leader of men, and as a man who would rule here, do you know what my greatest fear is? I’ll tell you. That those around me will tell me what they think I want to hear, not what I need to hear. That they will say, ‘good idea, my lord’, when they are thinking ‘this is folly.’ So I want men around me who will disagree, who will tell me when they think I’m wrong. And if men, why not a woman too? In principle. I will not deceive you – I can promise nothing to you in this regard, other than to help you learn and to seek your counsel on certain matters related to these lands. I see potential in you on first acquaintance, but more than that I cannot say. But I have been insulted more in this conversation than I have been in the last two months” he smiled, “and that bodes well, I think.”

Most of what William said was true enough. He did not entirely discount the possibility that the girl might have useful information, but if her servant had been almost her only friend in the castle, he doubted that she could know very much. If this pretty thing provided him with more than just entertainment, all well and good. The irony of flattering her while admitting his own fear of flattery was not lost upon him, but he hoped that his mixture of candour, praise, and promises would prove a heady mixture.

“But how do we get past the present crisis? Disguising yourself as a boy… well…”
William paused, his expression thoughtful. He treated himself to the opportunity of looking her up and down several times, slowly, as if contemplating carefully the possibility of her frame passing for male. From his seated position, he leaned to his left, inclining his head for a better sight of the rear view. He made no attempt to disguise the smile playing on his lips.

He shook his head.
“I doubt anyone with eyes would be fooled for very long, my dear. But… in crowds, if we need to sneak you somewhere, perhaps…. we could try and see. But I think your best disguise is… as you say… as my whore. But that’s not what you’ll be. I’ll know it, you’ll know it, and Therese – if she says with us – will know it too. And that’s all that matters. And I somehow doubt that you’re the kind of person who cares much what the world thinks. There’s a world of difference between… forgive me…. ‘a whore’ and ‘my whore’. If people think you’re mine, that keeps you safe. Do not make the mistake of thinking that anyone… anyone at all… out there will cross me lightly.”

He sighed.
“There comes a time, Eleanore ,when you have to decide if you are prepared to fight for what you believe in, and for what you want. Or whether you want to surrender to the whims of fate, and the will of others. That fight takes different forms for different people. Right now, if you want anything other than to be humiliated and punished in front of the whole court as an example of what happens to the wives and daughters of rebels, or to sell your virtue for protection, you have to be prepared to fight for it. If you want more than the bitter fruits of your uncle’s folly, you have to be ready to play a part, and play it well. To swallow your pride and accept the embarrassment and humiliation, as a soldier accepts the price of fear, of danger, and of pain for a chance of victory and the rewards that go with it.”

“If you can do that, I will help you. If you cannot, I can arrange sanctuary in the bed of a decent man far from here, who will hide you. But I will not see you in the hands of the Princeling while I have the wit to prevent it. You deserve a better fate.”

* * * * *

“We don’t have time for this” snapped Fredricks. “The General will be wondering where we are. Put your arms around their shoulders and let them support you, or I’ll sling you over my shoulder and carry you.”

Godwin and Osgar moved closer. Godwin went to take her arm and place it gently around his shoulder, his other arm hovering uncertainly over her back.
“You heard the chief, missy” hissed Osgar. “Quickly now, before we lose patience!”
Unseen by the others, he pawed at her asscheek and the side of her thigh.

 

[Sweet_Denna]

Eleonore flinched. That word. Whore. It was almost as if he took a cruel delight in pronouncing it in relation to her person, and if only to throw her off guard. And it worked – she had already nervously shifted as he looked her up and down so shamelessly to finally – what audacity! – lean to his left to examine her backside, but the repeated sound of that word caused her to almost audibly wince. But he was right. And did his words not sound honest and reasonable? She was unsure how he would manage to conceal her from the prince, or to smuggle her past the remainder of her uncle’s staff and servants, but she hoped that none of them despised her enough to uncover her secret...

Also, she shivered at the thought of having to face Sir Eduard disguised as the whore of the man who had forced his army to its knees; but to share her plan with him would only mean more danger for the former general. And he had certainly endured enough for the family of de Courtney. Again, de Reynaux did not mention the possibility of her fleeing on her own accord, and not into the arms and the bed of some mildly mannered aristocrat. But no matter, her decision was made. And flight was not an option anymore, not after the offer he had laid at her feet. Despite his flattering speech, she felt that he had little faith in her abilities to counsel him, but she did not blame him for that.

There was one crucial thing, however, that he did not know. Eleonore’s ties to the local peasantry were much tighter than one would have imagined for a lady of her almost inexistent experience and aristocratic standing. And to disguise herself as a boy...well...the idea must have seemed absurd to him, but it was a tactic that she had successfully employed over the previous months, when her uncle’s attention had been more and more distracted by his ill-fated rebellion. However, she decided not to address any of this for the moment, not before she could be sure that his intentions were free of deceit.

For a moment, she quietly looked at him, and carefully chose her words when she finally did speak. “Very well, then. So be it, my Lord. I trust you to guide and protect me; and to lend your ear to my counsel when it comes to the people of these lands.” Her eyes slipped from his face, and the next words were a whisper that only badly concealed her suppressed, angry pride. “And I will obey you in all things, my Lord.”

It was strange. To utter these words filled her with a vague feeling of excitement, a faint tingle. Her hands were shaking, and she had to hide them in the folds of her dress. Was it the madness of the whole plan? To trust an enemy commander she had only just met with her life, her honour, and her integrity? Or was it something else? Eleonore silently repeated the words she had just spoken. They tasted bittersweet.

There was a short pause. “Should you fail to guard me from harm of any kind, or the fingers of his Majesty, the Prince, our contract will be void.” Finally, she raised her gaze again, and the shiver in her voice was gone. “And it is not that I worry what people might think, but what they might attempt should they have the wrong idea about my position in your company. Because despite your experience, I am sure that I know more than you about the cruelty and moral weaknesses men display towards women. And I might be naive, but trust me if I say that I have no illusions when it comes to that.” And indeed she did not. Living under her despotic uncle for the past years she had learned a thing or two about abuse, and it was probably only thanks to Sir Eduard, who had guarded her like a hawk, that she had been able to keep her innocence, and in every sense of the word.

Eleonore continued. “I will also promise you that I will not hold back with my honest opinions and insults where I deem them necessary, my Lord. For I have seen what harm ill and dishonest counsel can do, and what how constant praise and cowardice can corrupt a leader, and thus lend all of his enterprises to terrible failure.” A faint smile played around the corners of her mouth as she spoke. “So far, you have displayed such mastery in the art of flattery yourself that I trust your ability to sprinkle it wisely.”
“There is something else, too, a request, maybe even a plea: You have judged me so well in most things, and we both share the same contempt for the whiny harpies that one so often encounters in aristocratic circles. But alas, so often women can only rely on their weaknesses to counter advances and attacks of men.” She needed to get to the point, but after his barely concealed mockery about her plan to dress up and act as his knave, he was unlikely to react any better to what she was about to say. “I want you to teach me how to fight. How to rely on other strengths than that of my heaving bosom and teary eyes. Teach me how to use a blade, my Lord, how to defend myself with strength, not flaw.”

Her eyes shone with excitement now, and the passion of her words had coloured her cheeks an almost feverish crimson. If he had spoken the truth before, he would understand her meaning, and not dismiss her as patronizingly as he had before.

***

Therese detected the impatient anger in the captain’s words and sensed that it would not be wise to resist. The young soldier to her right gently placed her arm around his shoulders and politely waited for her to accept his touch; his mild manners forced a sad smile on her lips as she turned to thank him. She would have to take this offer if she wanted to avoid being carried back to their commander like captured game, no matter how much she disliked the idea of having to rely on these men.

It was then that she felt the demanding touch of the soldier to her left, who was groping her thigh and her backside through the fabric of her dress, without the slightest attempt to conceal his intentions. The young girl froze in her steps, and for the length of a few hectic heartbeats, she did nothing at all. But her sudden anger, the pent up emotions about the terrible loss she had suffered, all of it found an outlet in the violence whit which she suddenly whirled around to slap the bastard’s face. The sharp sting of pain on her palm informed her about the intensity of her blow, and it even seemed like there was blood on his lip.

The sudden movement had propelled her into the arms of the other soldier, and they both stumbled backwards. The vicious glare of the other man left no doubt about his anger, and immediately, Therese regretted her hasty reaction. It was now up to his commander to save her, or to leave her to his insulted soldier.

 

[MrAdam]

Osgar just glared for a moment at the insolent wench. He slowly drew the back of his hand across his mouth and checked for blood. His face was contorted with anger, and flushed with the humiliation of being slapped full across the chops by a mere girl.

“You’ll pay for that” he snarled. Roughly, he grabbed hold of the hem of her dress with both hands. The fabric started to rip, slowly exposing far more of the poor girl’s cleavage than the seamstress had intended.

Godwin did not move, frozen in surprise at finding the girl falling backwards into his arms. He watched Osgar, uncertain of how to react. Osgar scared him, especially in moods like this. There was an animalistic quality about the man that young Godwin could not find in his own soul.

“Stop that!” snapped Fredricks. “We’re ordered to investigate and report back. If the General wants her stripped, we wait for the order first.”
Osgar glared at Fredricks, angry at being denied his vengeance. Fredrick glared back, daring him to disobey. The impasse lasted but seconds. Osgar let go of her dress, but much of the damage had already been done.
“You, girl” snarled Frerdricks. “Raise your hand to any of my men again, and I won’t stop them next time. Understand? Now, Osgar, you scout ahead. I’ll take your place.”
Osgar scowled.
“You wait!” he hissed at the girl, before moving away.
“Now, let’s get moving” said Fredricks, “come on, boy, don’t just stand there gawping.”


* * * *

“I will obey you in all things, my Lord.”

William rather liked the sound of that. Unbidden, an image of Eleanore repeating the pledge appeared in his mind eye’s, only this time she was naked, kneeling up at his feet, and gingerly rubbing her freshly-chastised behind. Her face was flushed, but her voice was determined and clear. He dismissed the vision with difficulty – delightful speculations must wait for now.

Her agreement was couched in caveats and conditions, as he thought it would be. This seemed to be how she thought – the bitter taste of any concession she made to him must be sweetened with new conditions that she fancied she was imposing, or spiced with remarks designed to make her independence clear, or sometimes with outright insults and challenges. He noticed her shaking hands and the colour creeping to her cheeks as she spoke, in spite of his momentary distraction. But he put this down entirely to the defeat of pride by the forces of common sense. Ably supported by his arguments, of course.

He wondered what life must have been life at the castle before the war. Her only friend apparently this maidservant. She claimed to know all about the cruelty of men towards women, and of the danger of bad or corrupting counsel. He doubted the first to be true, or she would surely not have ventured out alone. But she was referring to something, of that there could be no doubt. Perhaps it was just something that he took for granted – the manners and the… pastimes… of warriors. Perhaps not. From her horror at merely the word ‘whore’ he doubted that de Courtney had laid a finger on her, but he knew little of the man’s other habits. He made a mental note to try to find out.

She chose to reveal to him that she thought he had been flattering her. True enough, he had. But she had accepted his offer none the less. So did she really think he had been flattering her, or was it a false-modest response to his high opinion of her? He was not sure, but the fact that she made the connection was an important reminder – however naïve she was, she was no fool. Her wits were sharp enough, if perhaps underemployed in the past. All the better, he thought. No challenge, no sense of achievement. He was going to enjoy this.

He watched with growing surprise as she asked him to teach her to fight. This was obviously something that mattered hugely to her, but why? Was it about independence? Was it about self-sufficiency – as she said, about protecting herself? Or was there something else going on here? Clearly it was a passion for her. Did her parents want a boy, he wondered. She wanted to lead, wanted to fight, wanted to disguise herself as a boy. Had she some point to prove, perhaps.

He thought hard for a moment. This was not part of his plan, but he could not find a good reason to decline such a plea, aside from the demands on his time. However….. however… he could see ways of turning this to his advantage. An excuse for physical contact, and….. Oh. Oh yes. Yes, he could make this work.

“My time is limited, Eleanore, but yes, I will teach you. But only if you are serious about learning to fight, and are prepared to make the sacrifices to learn. It is not easy for a woman to learn to fight – you are not made for it, bred for it, or raised for it. As soon as I could walk I was scrapping with my brothers and my cousins. My youth was spent sparring, brawling, hunting, running, riding, swimming, climbing…. all manner of physical and athletic activities. And it instilled skill, strength, agility, speed of foot, of hand, and of thought. But most of all, it instilled resilience. Let’s say that one of my guards comes in here and gives me a black eye. That’s nothing to me – I give him two back and no harm done, except to my good looks. I will feel nothing until afterwards. He gives you a black eye and…. what? You fight back without a second though? Or does the pain and shock overwhelm you? ”

“Be honest, now. If I can fight on, it is because I am bred to it. If you cannot, it is because you are not. Courage or cowardice does not enter into it – except for those who can never learn. Practice, resilience, experience is all. Now… unless you were brought up as a boy, you cannot yet have those qualities. No fault of yours, of course, but you must face the facts. But I think they can be learnt by one with sufficient determination. But it is not easy to catch up a decade or more of childhood experience. If you want it enough and are prepared to do what it takes, I will teach you. But I warn you – I will not have my time wasted if you do not mean or do not understand what you ask.”

That ought to do the trick, he thought. If in doubt with this one, prick her pride.

“Scouts returning, General!” came the call from outside the cabin.

 

[Sweet_Denna]

Therese trembled in fear. As the humiliated soldier approached her, his rage so clearly visible on his face, she hoped that his companion would stop him. But he, too, seemed frozen in fear. As the thin fabric tore under his fingers, exposing her small breasts almost all the way to her nipples, she started crying, unable to utter a single syllable.

Why did the others look on? It seemed ages until the Captain finally stepped in, and only to threaten her further. What had she done other than tried to defend herself? Silent tears continued to drop from her cheeks, and onto her chest. She knew that the soldier who had tried to take revenge would not stop until he finally succeeded. What she now needed, was a plan to rid her of his presence.

***

So he complained about the whining damsels at Court, but he could apparently not bring himself to overcome his own prejudices about what girls were supposed to be like. To be fair – the women he had been around were probably not the tree-climbing, running and swimming kind, they most certainly had not been the hunting kind, but Eleonore believed herself to be pretty good at all these things. But like most men she had encountered in her young life, de Reynaux seemed to love to lecture her on what she could, and could not, do.

While she was indeed fairly thin – the last weeks of the ever-tightening siege on the castle had not helped –she certainly was aware of the skills she had, and those she was still lacking.

And yes, pain.

Pain.

For a moment, her thoughts wandered off, and she shivered at the memory of that one evening, when she had experienced pain, real pain, for the very first time.

It was not long ago, maybe a little more than a year. She had been out again, and on her way back from the village, wandering through the forest, her mind occupied with information she had gathered. Her uncle’s senseless and suicidal war had pushed many of the peasants close to revolt, and Eleonore, herself dressed in a hunter’s tunic, had pondered on the possibility of an uprising, when someone had grabbed her from behind.

She clearly remembered the touch of his calloused fingers on her cheek and the smell of damp wood in the evening mist. The low, taunting whisper of his voice.

“What a lucky catch...I have caught myself a little rabbit...!”

A poacher he had been, probably, or some other sort of riffraff, a criminal. And he had literally caught her by complete and utter surprise. Yes, pain and shock had overwhelmed her then.

He had shoved her backwards against a tree, his fingers wrapped around her throat like steel traps, the rough linen of his sleeve brushing against the skin of her neck. “I have been wondering about the lad running around the forest all by himself in times like these...” – his lips then almost touching her ear – “...and the solution to this puzzle really could not be any sweeter...” Her heart had jumped in fear at his words. He had been watching her for days, weeks even.

There had been a knife. In his hand, the one he did not use to painfully squeeze her windpipe, there had been a knife. And he had dragged it down her front, circling around the small mounds that she had tried to conceal underneath her tunic, before the sharp blade had cut through the straps that held the garment in place. Slowly. One by one.

She had been too scared to protest, too scared to even move. As the soft breeze caressed her bared breasts, a sigh had escaped her lips. Eleonore remembered his satisfied grin. His green eyes had been fixed on her face as his hand had found that spot between her thighs...

The bark of the tree had scraped against the skin of her neck; she remembered the heat crawling over her skin, spreading from her centre to her fingertips, her toes, over her scalp, and his fingers, his fingers...! Her sighs had quickly turned into moans, against her will, against her fear, against her knowledge that she was completely at his mercy.

And then he was gone, he had left her there, her knees weak, shaking, leaning against the tree, out of breath, hanging there, somehow...unsatisfied. It had been difficult not to succumb to the urge to imitate his caresses with her own hand. Had he left because something had scared him? Had he left her like this deliberately? Eleonore did not know, and she had never seen him again.

But the worst had been that it had haunted her for weeks, and no matter how hard she had tried to forget it, no matter how many hours she had knelt on the floor of the small chapel to pray, the shiver, the humming on her skin, it had not gone away.

This...need.

She had felt vulnerable. Sinful. Horribly exposed. Dirty, maybe. And except for Therese, she had not told a soul about that encounter, not even Sir Eduard, who knew most of Eleonore’s secrets. That man...it was as if he had revealed something that she had not known to be there.

Eleonore suddenly felt caught in the gaze of de Reynaux and blushed again, first in shame, then in anger at herself. No matter his arrogance– he would not be able to read her mind, after all. But his silence and self assurance again tore at her nerves. Impatiently, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, as she replied: “My Lord, I do know what I am asking from you, and I do know what will be expected of me...”

But before she could say any more, a yell from outside the cabin interrupted her. The scouts had returned! Without asking for his permission, Eleonore ran outside to see if her poor Therese was hurt. Immediately, her eyes fell upon the torn dress, her maid servant’s flustered, tear-streaked face. None of this would stem from an accident.

She took the girl in her arms. “What has happened to you, Therese? Who did this to you?” She threw a questioning glance to the captain, assuming that he and his men had saved her friend from an attacker. Therese bit back her tears, but did not dare to reveal the culprit. Not in front of these men. Not in front of her mistress who seemed unharmed. She was confused, and tired, and utterly afraid. “Nothing. Nobody.” she murmured. “But my ankle is hurt.”

Eleonore knew her maid well enough not to press the matter. Turning to the commander, she said calmly: “My Lord, I need to get her back to the castle where I have the things I need to help her.” After a short pause, she added with a low voice: “And it would be wise to find and punish the man who did this to her. Scum like that should not roam these lands freely.”

 

[MrAdam]

William frowned in annoyance as Eleonore darted from the cabin in search of her friend. He decided to let that pass without comment – he could not bring himself to blame her overmuch for being worried for her friend. His guards plus the patrol would be enough to prevent any danger, but he was anxious to avoid any scene, or avoid having any more of an audience that was absolutely necessary, Even before he left the cabin, the apparently neutral call of his guards had told him much. The tone was calm and even, matter of fact, so there was nothing out of the ordinary – it was likely they had found what they had expected to find.

He stalked out of the cabin after Eleanore, emerging into the summer dusk, the sun shedding its final rays upon the day before dipping below the horizon. William stopped a little way out of the doorway. Eleanore had gathered her “friend and maid” into her arms. Her servant, he was delighted to see, was certainly no old crone. A very pretty young blonde. Very comely indeed. And what a lovely pair they made – the mistress with her dark hair, dark eyes and tanned skin; the maid with her blonde hair and fair complexion. Especially with one in the arms in the other. It would be a crime to separate them, he thought. Not when they were such good friends – perhaps each the other’s only friend in the world. He smiled inwardly. No. He would keep both of them, regardless of what Eleanore may or may not think he had just agreed. What a pretty pair they made.

Only when Eleanore turned towards him did he notice Therese’s dress. While it was marred with dirt and woodland detritus, with the occasional tear or laceration caused by panicked flight or a nasty tumble, the rip was far too delightfully placed to be accidental. He found himself staring. Small, but nicely pert, he thought. A bit more force would have had her half naked. Shame, really… just a little more…. but perhaps she was a treat best saved reserved for himself. And in spite of the girl’s best efforts, plenty on show as a preview to whet his appetite.

He only dimly heard the conversation between mistress and maid, and only when Eleanore addressed him directly did he snap out of his reverie.

“My Lord, I need to get her back to the castle where I have the things I need to help her…And it would be wise to find and punish the man who did this to her. Scum like that should not roam these lands freely.”

Sergeant Fredricks and his men were also momentarily distracted. Partly it was the spectacle in front of them, and partly it was surprise at the audacity of the self-proclaimed “Lady of the Castle”. He had no idea what she wanted with the General… presumably to surrender, on favourable terms. But the way she addressed him – while respectful enough – was not the language or tone of the defeated or penitent, and especially not the implied demand for retribution. Perhaps there was more to this.

“My lord, can we keep-?” began Osgar, before Fredricks elbowed him none too gently in the ribs.

“We found her in the forest, General” reported Fredricks, in a neutral, matter of fact tone, affecting to ignore what Eleanore had just said, and what Osgar had tried to say. “She fell and hurt her ankle. We tried to bring her to you, but she drew a dagger on us.” He casually threw it to the floor in front of William. “And once she had surrendered it, she struck Osgar as he tried to help her walk. We thought she was trying to escape, and stopped her.”

William did not believe it had happened exactly like that, but he did not much care for the details. He stooped and picked up the knife.
“A dagger, eh?” he said, “An assassin’s weapon”, he murmured to himself, but certainly loud enough to be heard. He gave Therese a long, hard, searching suspicious stare, before giving the same treatment to Eleanore. He frowned, as if his suspicion were still not entirely slaked.

“You were escorted here safely”, he said to Therese, his firm tone that of one pronouncing judgement. “It is not safe for a young woman to be out by herself in times such as this. These woods were probably never safe, and they are not safe now. You hurt your ankle… who knows how long you might have lain there had you not been found? Summer or not, the nights can be cold and you could have caught your death. Yet you were found and brought here, unharmed and unmolested. No doubt any unpleasantness was no more than accident or misunderstanding. If you have no complaint about your treatment, of course?” Although framed as a question, it was not intended as one. “Good. Now, come inside, and we shall see what running repairs may be made.”

He ushered the two women into the cabin, nodding to the soldiers to stand guard outside as he followed them in.