Page 9 of Knight of Chaos
“If they are not already married, they will be soon, or so I was told,” Gloucester murmured before his gaze returned to Ingrid. “Will you not introduce me to your own wife?” he asked, obviously assuming he and Ingrid were wed.
“Oh, we are not—” Ingrid began.
“—husband and wife, my lord,” Theobald interjected with a warning glare toward the lady. “My apologies for my lack of manners. May I present my cousin, Ingrid Seymour. Ingrid, this gentleman is Robert, Earl of Gloucester.”
Ingrid had the decency to not negate Theobald’s words. “My lord,” she murmured with a nod of her head.
Gloucester moved his horse forward so he could take Ingrid’s hand. He raised her gloved fingertips to his lips. “A pleasure, my lady,” he replied before moving his horse back into line with his knights. He pointed to the sword at Ingrid’s side before he chuckled in mirth. “Another woman who fights for the Empress. How is it you Norwoods raise or find such brave women?”
“Sheer luck, my lord,” Theobald said whilst his lips twitched in suppressed laughter.
“Lucky, indeed, and if she fights half as well as Lady Ceridwen then the Empress has gained another woman worthy to be a part of her army,” Gloucester said whilst watching them closely.
Before the earl could question them further, Theobald spoke up. “My cousin was impulsive and wanted to lend her arm to the Empress’s cause. With no other family, she sought me out. I was lucky to find her on the open road.”
The earl finally nodded as though he still doubted such a story. “Since you appear to be lagging behind, join our company for now. When we arrive in the city, you may once more join the Empress’s ranks. Fall in.”
Gloucester gave them no further time to reply. He waved his arm forward and his knights began to follow. Theobald and Ingrid joined their ranks but it was several minutes before Ingrid at last voiced her displeasure.
“By Saint Michael’s Wings!You must needs tell me when you plan to change our story. One moment you imply we are a couple. The next I am now some cousin. Why did you not correct his assumption, Theobald?” she fumed louder than she apparently intended since several nearby knights looked their way.
Theobald’s laughter rang out. “My cousin is miffed with me,” he jested for their benefit whilst several men laughed at his situation. When the men returned their attention to their horses and the road, he gave her a gentle smile to placate her hoping his ruse would work. “Forgive me, Ingrid,” he whispered using her name with a familiarity as though they were in truth related—a necessary intimacy in the event anyone was still paying attention to their conversation.
“’Tis not right to lie to the man, you fool!”
“Mayhap ’twas not the best choice but such a charade will continue to keep you safe and within reach in case you have need of me. Telling the earl you were my wife seemed as if ’twould stretch the lie further than I should since he might ask questions as to why you are not at Brockenhurst where a wife should be kept. But a cousin…” He hesitated briefly before he continued. “A cousin with no other family is something he could possibly understand, especially a woman who is… impulsive.”
“And who made you my hero,” she pointed out, her voice full of indignation.
He chuckled thinking back to their conversation when they first met. “You did when you decided to trust me. Do not lose faith in me so readily. I have your best interest in mind with any decision I make on your behalf.”
“You assume much, Norwood,” she hissed between clenched teeth.
“Mayhap so, but at least you will not become some plaything for an army of men,” he returned whist watching her carefully and preparing himself for some form of outburst.
Another curse left her lips, but luckily for him, she did not voice any further objections. Whilst he had a feeling that she was still displeased, he also had some hope that Ingrid could agree his remarks and logic made sense. But he had no idea what was going on inside that beautiful head. Instead of continuing to voice her complaints, Ingrid remained silent. They continued to ride this way for the remainder of the day. He was uncertain which he liked better: a quiet Ingrid who was anything but subservient or the woman with the fiery hazel eyes whom he enjoyed verbally sparing with.
Chapter Eight
Siege of Wolvesey Castle
31 July, 1141
Ingrid entered therelatively large tent she shared with Theobald and barely made it to her bedroll laid out upon the ground. Exhausted, her arm felt heavy from lifting her sword over and over again to strike down the enemy and protect her life now that they had entered Winchester and its battle. She stared at her pallet in agony. The floor felt as though ’twas miles away. If she laid down now, she would never be able to rise on her own accord whilst still wearing her chainmail. She was that drained.
Her body felt as though she had been bound and dragged behind a cart for days. There was not one inch on her that did not rebel from some sort of pain. She unbuckled the belt holding her scabbard, the release of the heavy weight a welcome relief. She placed the blade nearby with care, for it had served her well this day. Her decision made, she crossed the tent to her pallet. Falling back onto the softness of the blanket, she cared not when the chinks of her chainmail dug into her back despite the layer of padding to protect her abused skin.
She stared up at the fabric of the ceiling whilst memories assailed her mind. Their arrival in Winchester had completely surprised Bishop Henry, who quickly fled the city. His soldiers retreated to Wolvesey Castle, which belonged to the church and was situated in the corner of the city walls. Now, the Angevin host had Wolvesey Castle under siege, putting strong pressure on its defenses. Ingrid could now rest… or so she prayed. For the moment, there was nothing more that she could do and she was thankful for the respite from war.
When Theobald had showed her to the large tent that had been erected for them, she had been momentarily surprised since this was a luxury she had been unprepared for. She had resigned herself to taking a bedroll and sleeping upon the ground… another part of her plan she had not given enough thought to. She continued to gaze at the fabric of the tent above her. Theobald had mentioned his older brother Wymar and how everything that was before her had once belonged to him. Apparently, his brother was now lord of their estate after having his title and lands restored to him by the Empress. When Ingrid had asked when Theobald had last been home, he evaded the question. She assumed it had been some time.
Ingrid closed her eyes as her mind continued to wander with all she had learned after they arrived in the city. Empress Matilda had set up her headquarters in the royal castle previously occupied by Bishop Henry. Robert of Gloucester had established his command post near Saint Swithun’s Cathedral. Ingrid now only awaited further word from Theobald who would be able to tell her more on their current situation.
As though he had been summoned by her thoughts of him, the tent entryway flapped open and the man himself filled the space before once more closing out the world behind him. He appeared just as weary as she had been when she had entered the tent. Ingrid had spent long hours whilst riding with this knight to observe him, noting both how handsome he appeared and how determined he was to keep his word in regard to seeing to her safety. He had been a gentleman to the core. Ingrid continued to be thankful that she had met Sir Theobald Norwood instead of someone else who would have taken advantage of her person.
“Do you have news? Have you spoken with the Empress? Will we leave Winchester anytime soon?” she asked full of concern. With a fair amount of difficulty, Ingrid managed to sit up before crossing her legs beneath her.
“A moment, if you would be so kind, Ingrid,” he said quietly and she swore beneath her breath realizing she was overwhelming the man with questions when all he probably needed was a few minutes of quiet and rest.
