Page 70 of Hers To Command
“Are you afraid, my lady?” he asked with a derisive leer. “Summon your guards, your escort, these soldiers you think can beat mine.” He grinned his cold, malicious grin as he drew his sword. “Go ahead. I’ll wait.”
“Very well,” she said, turning on her heel and starting for the door, the sweat trickling down her back as she tried to remember how many men were outside and think of a way to get past them.
“Not so fast,” De Mallemaison said, moving to block the door. He threw it open and looked outside.
Her hand moved toward the dagger in her belt.
“There’s only my men outside,” he said as he turned back into the room.
“It’s dark,” she countered.
“Not that dark.”
“Shelied?” Roald cried, hurrying to join him at the door. He swore crudely as he whirled around. “How dare you try to trick me!”
Mathilde backed toward the hearth, her hand on her dagger. “How dare you try to take Ecclesford when you have no right to it!”
“She’s a bold fool,” De Mallemaison noted with something that might have been a glimmer of admiration, “but a fool nonetheless. Now we have a hostage.”
Mathilde had known it was a dangerous gamble to come here alone. She’d remembered what Henry said when he warned her not to leave the castle without a guard because of the possibility of abduction. But it was a risk she’d been prepared to take rather than put any more of her men in danger by asking them to come with her.
So she had her answer ready, like her hand upon her blade. “Youare a fool if you think Giselle will give up Ecclesford for me, especially to you. She knows what sort of man you are, what kind of overlord you’ll be. She knows I’m here, and why, and expects you to take the terms we offer. After all, Ecclesford is well provisioned and our men will die for us, while your paid men will eventually realize your offer is not worth the effort, or their lives.”
She managed to walk toward the large chair without stumbling. Sweeping back her skirts, she lowered herself onto the seat with queenly dignity. “If you kill me, and then try to convince Giselle I am still alive, she won’t believe it. She will know that is a lie unless she sees me herself. So you have a choice, Roald. You can either surrender, save your wretched life and go back to Provence, or you can try to ransom me, to no avail, and waste your money paying these men to attempt, uselessly, to take Ecclesford. What is it to be?”
Roald’s mouth moved, but no sound came out, until De Mallemaison walked up to him and slapped him hard across the face.
“Don’t be an idiot,” De Mallemaison snarled in his low, harsh rasp like the voice of the devil himself. “She’s lying. And you’ve got three hundred and fifty men outside. You’ve captured over forty of theirs and killed how many more? That castle has one puny wall, one useless gate. We can take it.
“As for her threats, who cares what some lord in Scotland and some other in Cornwall thinks or does? You’ve got the king on your side, don’t you?”
“I do,” Roald assured him, seemingly as afraid of De Mallemaison as Mathilde was.
“And what does it matter what some churchman says? Get the castle and keep it. You’ve got the men.” He spun on his heel to glare at Mathilde. “And I say D’Alton’sdead.”
She gripped the arms of the chair. “He’s not!”
De Mallemaison came toward her like a wolf after an injured lamb. “If he’s not yet, he will be. I hit him hard in the face. I saw his crushed helmet.”
She half rose, pulling out her dagger, but his beefy hand lashed out and closed around hers, squeezing hard. As he made her drop her weapon, he forced her back into the chair. “He’s dead, and they’ve lost and she knows it.”
Still squeezing her hand, the pain excruciating, he hauled her to her feet. “Isn’t that right, my lady?”
“No!”
De Mallemaison laughed in her face, his fetid breath making her want to retch before he glanced over his shoulder at Roald. “I tell you what, de Sayres. Give me this one instead of the other.” He turned back, his gargoyle face a mask of demonic intent. “I think I’d enjoy taming this one more.”
“Roald! You can’t listen to this dolt!” she cried, struggling to free herself from De Mallemaison’s grasp. “He cares only about his fee, not what might happen to you.”
“And you do?” Roald scoffed, coming toward her, an evil gleam in his eyes. “You are still trying to trick me, the way you tricked your father after we made love and you cried rape. The king wants me to have Ecclesford. And De Mallemaison is right. The castle has but one wall, one gate. I have more men than you.”
He came around to Mathilde’s side and pulled her veil back from her ear. He leaned close and licked her, making her shiver with revulsion, and then he whispered, “Since I’ve already had you once, De Mallemaison is welcome to you.”
“Roald, no!”
He stepped back. “Enjoy her as you will, Charles. I don’t care if she lives or dies.”
“No!” Mathilde screamed, kicking her captor, striking out at him.
