Page 16 of Saxon Blade Norman Blood

William kept out of the way all day long, only making it back to the castle as crimson ribbons unfurled over the horizon. He came to bed as usual, but for the first time since their time at Old Sarum, he did not touch her. Rowena felt his withdrawal keenly and barely slept, only nodding off at dawn through sheer exhaustion.

“Three Saxon lords are coming today,” he announced in his blandest voice as they were breaking their fast the following morning.

If she didn’t know better, she would think nothing of importance had happened the day before. Like her trying to kill him. Either he was determined to forget the incident, or he was trying to make her feel more guilty by taking the moral high ground. Both were possible.

Still, it mattered not, because he had not asked her to leave.

“You said there would be only one lord, Leowald of Tilburn,” she answered, carrying along with the pretense that her presence at the castle was justified.

She wondered what would happen when the meeting was over and her reason for being there was gone. William would probably send her back to where she came from and forget about her. It was extraordinary enough that she was still there after what she had done to him the previous day.

Rowena eyed the red welt on his cheek nervously. His beauty was unmarred by it, but the wound would leave a scar for certain. Every time he looked into his polished mirror, he would see it. He would never be able to forget that he had crossed paths with a Saxon girl who had tried to kill him.

Twice.

And had failed both times.

“There has been a change of plans,” he informed her, breaking a loaf of bread in half. “Other lords will join the meeting. It will be easier this way. It is only Leowald who might prove difficult. Eilmund is a reasonable man, and I believe Alfred is already gained to our cause.”

“What if things turn ugly?” she asked, remembering the meeting with Cuthbert. William had also been confident then, and that had not turned out well. The man had demanded she kill him.

“Don’t worry. I will handle the men. All you have to do is dumbly translate our words, remember?”

“What makes you so sure I will not try to influence the proceedings?”

He smiled. “Nothing, except that it would be foolish of you to draw my attention to the possibility if such was your intention. In any case, even though I do not speak your language, I understand it fairly well. I will quickly see if something is amiss. Even more to the point, as a Saxon, surely you want me to succeed in my endeavors. Why would you not want to help me?”

“That is an odd question to ask a woman who tried to kill you.”

He gave a laugh, incongruous in its honesty. “Yes, I suppose it is, rather. But I think you have changed your mind about killing me.” To her surprise he cupped her cheek in a tender gesture. “You will never survive another attempt on my life.”

Rowena wasn’t sure what he meant by this odd turn of phrase. Did he mean she would faint in horror, never to recover from the shock of what she had done? Or that he would kill her himself for trying next time? She gulped, unsure how to react.

Finally he released her, then gestured toward the door.

“Come. Let us not keep them waiting.”

The three lords had not come alone. In total, about a dozen men were waiting for them in the main hall. Such an assembly was undeniably daunting, even if Rowena was determined not to let her anxiety show.

As soon as they entered, all eyes went to her, not William. With her coloring, she would be immediately identified as a Saxon and, in her rich clothes, she felt ill at ease. She knew the men would assume she was William’s mistress.

She clasped her hands together to hide the Norman ring on her finger. Being in possession of such an item would only confirm their impression. Drat! How had she not thought to take it off for the meeting?

The men looked at each other. Some faces showed incredulity and doubt, others plain disapproval. There were a few nods of appreciation. She knew they had nothing to do with William’s decision to include a woman in the proceedings, however, but rather with the way her dress hugged her body. She fell behind him, hoping to be as inconspicuous as possible.

Assured as ever, every inch the powerful lord, William addressed the three men in the middle of the room.

“I bid you all welcome. Pray be seated.”

Rowena translated the words in a timid voice. It was disconcerting to be indispensable to a Norman. Then in the corner of the room, she noticed a man with his hands clasped behind his back. An interpreter no doubt, ready to report on her performance to his master.

She gave a rueful shake of the head. What a na?ve fool she really was! She was not indispensable, and William did not really trust her. He was merely using her to send a message to the reticent Saxons.

“As you know, we are here to discuss a potential accord between us,” he said once this guests were seated.

The man opposite her gave a scoff. Leowald of Tillburn then. William had said he would prove reluctant. Only one of the Saxon lords tilted his head with grace, whilst the other men muttered various sarcastic observations under their breaths. Should she translate these comments, as they were evidently not aimed at William? A sharp glance told her she had better do it. Privately she agreed that it made sense for him to know what he was up against.

She told him what had been said, but it was not an encouraging beginning, to say the least. When she whispered the comments in his ear, however, he didn’t seem worried or offended, least of all surprised.

Obviously, he had expected nothing less of the delegation.

During the rest of the negotiations his face gave nothing away, even if on occasion she had to relay what could only be construed as insults. She was ashamed at this lack of cooperation from her countrymen. Their display of ill grace as William tried to find a satisfactory compromise was infuriating. How could he stay so composed, faced with the men’s blatant scorn?

She’d had ample opportunity to admire his self-control over the last few weeks, but truly this was inspiring. If all the Norman invaders had been half as respectful of her people, then the reception they’d gotten might have been very different.

A few moments later, the negotiations were completed. Rowena was not sure they had made much progress, but William seemed satisfied.

While the others made to depart, a man called Alfred walked up to them.

“Where did you get such a wound, Lord William?” he asked, gesturing at the red welt on William’s cheek.

Before she translated the question Rowena hid her injured hand behind her back, feeling as if she’d been caught in the act of stabbing him. Would William reveal to his friend what she had done? No one would blame him if he did.

“’Tis nothing,” he said, fighting a smile. Drat, he had not missed her reaction and was amused by it… Perhaps he did not intend to tell Alfred anything.

“Nothing, you say? Who on earth got the better of you? I have never seen you with so much as a scratch before.”

“Perhaps, but you have never met this new hound of mine,” William answered, looking straight at her.

Alfred, oblivious to the tension between them, laughed. “That fierce, is he? Well, I hoped you tamed the beast.”

“I’m not sure such a thing will be possible.” A pause. “It is truly a half-wild animal, only at ease in nature.”

Rowena shuffled on her feet, knowing this comment was aimed at her. She had told him only the other day she was more at home outside the confines of the castle. Unsure how to behave, she lowered her gaze to the floor while, one by one, the men who took their leave with assurances that efforts would be made.

Alone, Leowald made no move to leave. William did not seem surprised. He had warned her this morning that the man would not be easily appeased and demand one favor or another. More often than not, he’d told her with disgust, the favors in question were for his personal gain rather than the common good.

Instead of addressing William, Leowald took her by the arm and whispered a lewd proposition in her ear, while gazing at her breasts with ill-concealed lust. She froze, fighting nausea. The man was a snake.

“What was that?” William asked as a slow smile appeared on Leowald’s lips.

“He thinks I am your mistress. He says to prove your good will, you’ll allow him a moment in private with me,” she answered in a bland voice that did little to mask her anguish.

She was petrified William would accept the proposal. This was not about her, or him, but about something altogether more important. She was not na?ve enough to ignore he could not allow any personal misgivings to weigh in the balance. He would have to do whatever was needed to keep Leowald on his good side and forget about his urge to ram his fist down his throat—supposing that was what made his hazel eyes glitter so. Too many lives depended on his maintaining good relations with the local Saxons.

Heart in her throat, Rowena waited for his answer.

“Tell him he is welcome to have you if he wishes,” he told her with a dismissive wave of his hand.

The words hit her like a punch to the gut.

“I-I’m sorry?” Leowald was welcome to her? Had William truly said that? He had not even glanced at her while he had sold her to the man.

“He’s welcome to you. But if he really wants proof of my good will, he’ll heed my advice and ask for Margot in the kitchens instead. She’s a lot more inventive in bed, and doesn’t just lie there like a plank of wood. A much more piquant proposition for a hot-blooded man like him.”

The interpreter in the corner gave a little amused cough. Cheeks aflame, Rowena heard him relay the cruel words to Leowald when she remained tongue-tied. Her insides became liquid with disgust and shame combined. If William said anything else she would have to sit down or faint dead away.

Leowald gave a booming laugh.

“I thank him for this thoughtfulness. I do like my women with some imagination and a bit more meat on them,” he said, patting her bottom. “Tell him I am in a hurry today, but will certainly remember his advice next time.”

With this last taunt, he left. Rowena turned to William and translated the comments with her head lowered. Her buttocks still burned from the man’s touch, a dull ache was spreading through her chest, and she was on the verge of tears.

“The next time Leowald of Tillburn comes, you can handle the negotiations on your own,” William told the interpreter. “I cannot be trusted not to send him to hell a second time.”

Something in his clipped tones made her steal a glance at him. He looked about to explode with a fury such as she had never seen before. Not knowing what to make of it, she retreated to the window while the last two men left the room.

“Can I go now?” she whispered once they were alone.

From the corner of her eye, she watched as William walked up to her, shaking his head. He seemed on the verge of an outburst. It would not take much to detonate his fury right now, so she thought it best to stay silent and keep her gaze to the floor. Brimming with resentment as she was, she wasn’t sure she could be trusted to behave sensibly.

“You think me unforgivably coarse,” he said through gritted teeth. “I was unforgivably coarse, I know. But I thought…” He paused then said in a different voice. “Wait. You didn’t think I had agreed to the bargain, did you?”

The question made her raise her head at last.

“Of course I did. Did you not hear yourself tell him he was welcome to have me?” she answered, unable to hide her hurt. Not only that, but he had said she was as exciting as a plank of wood. How could he have said something like that, and in her presence? “There was not much room for misinterpretation.”

William inhaled, as if trying to keep calm. “I had to agree to Leowald’s proposition, or at least appear to. Don’t you see? I could see no other way of getting you out of this without offending him. Something too important is at stake here.”

Rowena knew she should be grateful for his efforts, but being considered so casually by men time and time again made her snap. She bunched her fists as fury crashed through her.

“I suppose I should thank you for calling me boring in bed and allowing me to be patted like an animal,” she exploded, remembering the feel of the man’s hands on her.

“Yes, you should!” William roared back. “You have no right to expect anything from me. What did you want me to do? Kill him on the spot? You called me monstrous for killing my overlord when I had no choice, yet you want me to run my sword through Leowald for doing nothing more than ask an insulting question?”

She let out a scream of frustration. “I did not want you to kill him, but you didn’t have to tell him he was welcome to have me, as if I were a piece of meat to be sampled. What if he had accepted the offer?”

He made a dismissive gesture that pierced her heart. “I knew he was only trying to fault my commitment to the cause and prove I do not consider him an equal. He only used you as an excuse to show me he was not so easily convinced. He didn’t really mean to bed you.”

“Well, next time you gamble, do it with your own body, with your own honor. I do not belong to you to be used in your power struggles!”

Rowena made no effort to stop herself from shouting at him. She was too raw. This scene coming so soon after the cataclysm of the previous day made it impossible for her to remain cool-headed.

“I did the best I could to spare you from his advances,” he said through gritted teeth. “Which is more than you had the right to expect in the circumstances. May I remind you that I do not owe the woman who tried to kill me twice any—”

“And what about poor Margot in the kitchens?” she cut in before he could finish. “You threw her in this monster’s path without her even knowing anything about it.”

Rowena knew he had only used her as a way of diverting Leowald’s attention away from herself, but she could not help being outraged on the girl’s behalf. Margot deserved better. Women deserved better.

William punched his palm with a closed fist and glared at her. She had never seen him so irate, not even when he’d found out she was in his bed to kill him, but she couldn’t pretend not to be hurt by his callousness.

“I seem to be spending my time saving you from men’s advances and getting little reward for my pains. Once, you used the hand I extended in help to try and kill me, and today you’re accusing me of being no better than a heartless beast. If nothing I say will persuade you of my good intentions, then go to the kitchens and ask to see Margot. Go,” he roared, gesturing toward the door. “Then come back and tell me I was wrong to offer her to save you—if you dare. I will look forward to hearing your apologies.”

There was a knock, and the door behind them opened.

“Some refreshments for the Saxon lords,” a servant announced, coming toward them.

“You’re too late. They’re gone,” William barked, looking as if he would like nothing more than to overturn the tray. “Out of my way!”