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A li stood in the fall sunshine and lifted her face skyward. The rains hadn’t yet begun and all had been laboring diligently to bring in the harvest before they came. She had found working in the fields to be a pleasure that she couldn’t deny herself.

Odd, the things a woman had time for when she wasn’t passing all her time in the lists.

She stretched, her hands at her back, and closed her eyes to enjoy the fine weather.

It was hard to believe she’d been at Berkham almost three months.

If she’d known how happy she would be at Colin’s home, she would have—well, there was no sense in trying to make sense of her decision.

She’d been terrified, made the best decision she could at the time, and all had worked out for the best.

Only now she was reaping the rewards of finally having come to her senses.

She leaned down, picked up her basket, and started back toward the keep. She looked at it with fondness. Not only was it her home, it housed the one she loved.

Aye, she loved him.

And she would also love the child he’d given her.

She hadn’t told him yet, but she planned to soon.

He’d looked at her belly strangely a time or two, but she’d merely remarked that the fare at table had been exceptionally good and that had seemed to satisfy him.

That she’d shunned the lists and been puking every morning had been something he’d obviously lumped in with his list of the womanly weaknesses she occasionally indulged in.

She smiled. How could a body not love the man?

She noticed a stooped, covered woman walking up the road, and she slowed her pace to match the woman’s.

“Might I carry that for you?” she offered, gesturing to the basket.

“If you like,” came the hoarse voice.

Ali took the basket and saw the scarred hand that had held it. Pity welled up in her heart for one who was less fortunate than she.

“Would you come into the keep?” Ali asked. “I’ll see to a meal for you.”

“Much appreciated, my lady.”

Ali walked slowly alongside the woman, then turned her mind to other things. Colin would no doubt be done with his exercise in the lists and be ready for something to eat. His garrison would be ready for food and something to ease the pain.

Some things never changed.

And now that Jason had gone to Artane to visit his family, Colin’s choices for a sparring partner were very limited indeed.

He was continually seeking to lure fierce knights into his garrison to supplement the lads who owed him service anyway.

The latter were always the ones who fulfilled their forty days and departed back to their homes with alacrity.

Colin had found a few who were willing to stay as a permanent garrison, but even those he had to rotate in and out of the lists.

Fighting with the man was nothing short of exhausting.

As for his other pursuit, he was not shunning those labors either.

Aliénore could readily attest to that. Though she had never thought him unskilled to start with—not having anything to compare him to—she certainly had to admit that he had honed his skill with much practice and a great amount of enthusiasm.

She supposed her growing belly was proof enough of that.

As for herself, she filled her days with having her hands in the dirt, making herself known to his people, and reaccustoming herself to walking about in skirts. She had come to appreciate the odd hour in the lists merely because she could don hose and stride about comfortably.

There was, perhaps, something to be said for being a man.

But being a man would have meant she had little time for offering charitable service, as she did now.

She guided the woman, whom she assumed was one of Colin’s villeins, up to the great hall and to one of the tables.

She saw to food and would have left, but the woman seemed to hesitate.

Ali felt compassion stir within her and sat next to the peasant.

Perhaps she only wanted for some company.

“Have you lived here long?” Ali asked.

The woman merely bowed her head and set to her meal.

Well, perhaps talking was unnecessary when there was a belly to fill. So Ali waited patiently whilst the woman ate, then listened as that very soft voice asked for a garderobe.

“Of course,” Ali said. “Follow me.”

She led the woman up the stairs and down the passageway, a passageway that was certainly cleaner than when Ali had arrived.

If the servants had doubted her seriousness initially, they seemed to believe she was in earnest quite readily after they’d seen her coming back from the lists with Colin, a sword at her side.

Ali wondered often what sort of reaction she might have at the English court did she but attempt the same thing.

“Here we are,” Ali said, motioning to a doorway. “Now, I should likely descend—”

The next thing she knew, her hair, which had grown a bit in three months, was caught up in a grip far too strong for an old woman to have possessed. Ali might have thought it was a terrible mistake, but she felt the prick of steel in her back and heard words she never thought she would.

“Greetings, stepdaughter. What a lovely keep you have here.”

Ali closed her eyes and considered screaming. Praying seemed a better choice and she hastily offered a very heartfelt one. Not for herself.

For her child.

“I thought you were dead,” Ali whispered.

“Tales of my demise were, as you can see, exaggerated.”

“What do you want?” Ali asked. “I daresay you’ll have it, whatever it is.”

“What do I want?” Marie laughed, and the sound was very unpleasant. “What I want is what you cannot give me. I want my beautiful visage returned to me. I want to walk without a limp. I want never to look at my scarred hands again. But instead, I’ll take your death.”

Ali flinched and the steel pricked harder.

“Not here, though,” Marie said thoughtfully. “I want your husband to watch. Up on the roof, over the lists. We’ll wait until he notices us. ’Tis the least I can do for him.”

“He’ll kill you for it.”

“That would be a relief.”

“Then why don’t you just kill yourself?” Ali rasped. “And leave me alive to grieve your loss?”

Marie made a sound of contempt. “I know your feelings for me, Aliénore, and I think mourning me would be the last thing you would do. Besides, my death has no meaning if I don’t cause yours first. Now, move, before you force me to slay you here.”

Ali moved, only because the knife dug deeper.

That, and she was completely unable to reach for the knife in her boot.

Marie’s knife had gone in only far enough to break the skin, but it would easily slide between her ribs and kill her before she could wrench away and grasp her weapon.

And even if the knife slid in and left her insides mostly intact, she would likely bleed so abundantly that the babe would be harmed.

Nay, better that she do as Marie bid her. Besides, once she was up on the roof, she could easily call for help and someone would come.

Hopefully before Colin saw what was happening.

The journey there was short and silent. Well, silent except for the rasp of Marie’s breathing. It was the not the sound of a healthy form and Ali wondered if perhaps she had breathed in fire and ash. ’Twas nothing short of a miracle that she hadn’t died.

Ali couldn’t help but wish she had.

They reached the roof far too soon for Ali’s taste. She blinked against the late-afternoon sun and looked about her for guardsmen. It was difficult to see, for Marie held her head at an odd angle, leaving Ali unable to see where her feet were going. Trusting Marie that far was unsettling enough.

“Stay where you are or she dies,” Marie commanded. “Go back into the guard tower and stay there.”

Ali could only assume Marie was commanding Colin’s guards. There was no sound of protest and Ali supposed she shouldn’t have expected one. After all, it wasn’t often that a man watched his lord’s wife being forced to the roof with a knife in her back.

“And now,” Marie announced, “we’ll wait. I don’t see him below, but my eyes aren’t perhaps what they were before.”

“He’s gone visiting—”

“Liar,” Marie spat. “I saw him this morning myself, giving you that disgusting kiss. Or was it disgusting? Is it a pleasure to have a man such as he is as your lover?”

“’Tis pleasant enough,” Ali managed.

That was a mistake. She cried out in spite of herself as Marie wrenched her head back farther.

Ali was fairly sure she would soon fall from the walkway from having lost her balance alone.

Marie surely wasn’t strong enough to hold her upright, nor would she likely grieve overmuch if she failed at that task.

But Marie said no more. She merely held Ali’s head back and kept the knife pressed into her ribs.

It seemed an eternity that they stood there, frozen in a deadly dance step. Ali came to the point where she thought that she might fling herself off the battlements merely to ease the pain in her body that standing thusly was giving her. She was just certain she couldn’t bear any more.

“You don’t want her.”

Ali bit her lip to keep from making any noise. That was Colin.

On the battlements.

A more terrifying place for him there surely couldn’t have been, yet there he was, come to rescue her. She wondered if he knew just how close Marie was to ending her life.

“Release her and you can have me,” he said, his voice sounding very strained.

Marie laughed. “As if you would allow it!”

“Heights, they ... um ... distress me,” he said. “You have the advantage here.”

“Do I indeed,” Marie said, sounding pleased. “Now, this is something I never expected.”