Page 20 of Rogue Knight
Her beautiful, tear-filled eyes fixed on him, desperation in their depths. “Find Feigr, save him, protect him, as I will now protect Inga.”
Seeing her tears, he could deny her nothing. “All right. But you must stay here until I locate him.”
“My family will worry. Ottar is still recovering and now I have Inga to see to.”
“I will send my squire to tell them you are safe. Latch the door after I leave. When I return, listen for three knocks. I myself will take you home.”
He went first to Mathieu to dispatch him to Emma’s house, to tell her servants she was safe. Once that was done, he went looking for the sword-maker. He found him with the other prisoners who had been taken that day, now sequestered in a building in the outer bailey.
***
Emma paced in Sir Geoffroi’s small chamber, keenly aware she was confined inside the Norman castle where the French knights gathered like wasps around a hive.
The smell of metal, leather and horses filled the room, a masculine smell she recognized as belonging to the blond knight from when he had carried her home from the clearing earlier in the day. The candles set about the chamber made it seem somehow intimate and, because it was the abode of a Norman knight, more threatening. Could she trust him to find Feigr and bring him to safety? Did she have a choice? She could not very well leave on her own now that the creature Eude knew she was here. To approach him had been a mistake. She would not have succeeded in killing him. Sir Geoffroi was right to scold her. Surely if she had killed Eude, the other knights would have killed her. But the mad impulse had seized her when she recognized the monster who had raped her friend.
She touched her fingers to her lips, still swollen with Sir Geoffroi’s kiss. Since his reason for kissing her had been to protect her, she did not resent it. But she had not expected to like it so well. His mouth had been gentle on hers and his tongue…Oh God. The memory of his seductive tongue exploring her mouth made her tremble even now. Had it only been for show? Mayhap he had kissed many women. The thought did not please her.
When he had taken her into his arms, she had felt protected, not threatened. It disturbed her that she should find a Norman so desirable. She did not like that her reaction to him seemed to steal away the hatred that gave her the strength to fight. She did not like the way her body still craved his touch.
Her pacing stopped. Would he help her to take vengeance on the one called Sir Eude? She suspected the answer was no. But if she could leave with Feigr, if he were still alive, then she would have accomplished her purpose in coming. The rest she could see to another time.
Some minutes later, three knocks sounded at the door. She unlatched it and pulled it open.
Sir Geoffroi strode into the chamber.
Closing the door behind him, she asked, “Where is Feigr?”
“You did not expect me to bring a rebel prisoner to the hall where the king himself dines?”
“No, I suppose not,” she said, disappointed. “But did you find him?”
“Yea. Alain is guarding him now. We will collect him when we leave the tower. He is too weak to ride alone.”
She inhaled sharply. “Will he live?”
“I cannot say what injuries lie beneath his skin. He has been badly beaten and his body is all cuts and scrapes. He might have a broken arm as well, for he cradles it close to his chest. I have asked the king’s physic to see what can be done.”
“Poor Feigr. He was only trying to protect his daughter. Inga will be despondent.”
“William does not countenance rape but even he cannot control so many knights and men-at-arms. Some are mercenaries with no care for anything save what they can gain. ’Tis a bad time to try to protect a young woman in York.”
She could tell by his expression he included her in his statement. As she considered what had happened after the battle the full scope of the truth came to her. Inga was likely not the only woman raped by the Normans this day. She shuddered. “When do we leave?”
“Now if you like, but we may have to wait for the physic to complete his work.”
She drew her cloak around her, eager to leave and wanting to assure herself Feigr would be well.
“Keep your hood pulled over your head, stay close to me and do not look at the men.”
Emma was only too happy to oblige. She had seen the lust in the knights’ eyes when they had discovered her in the hall. Never did she want to draw their leers again. They were like the hungry wolves that hid in the forest.
When they reached the part of the bailey where prisoners were housed, the knight with the scarred face, the one called Sir Alain, waited for them with horses. Torches illuminated the bailey and the face of the huge knight. He no longer appeared so formidable to her, his scar now merely part of a familiar face.
“The physic is near finished,” he informed Sir Geoffroi. “The arm was broken, but not the flesh. The physic has set the bone.”
With anxious eyes, Emma looked up at the huge knight. “What does the healer say about Feigr? Will he recover?”
“If it is God’s will, lady. Only time will reveal the outcome.” His voice was surprisingly kind. “Some of the sword-maker’s wounds are inside, but the physic was encouraging. You should know he does not usually see prisoners, but Sir Geoffroi asked on your behalf and, given the circumstances, he did not refuse.”
