Page 52 of Hers To Command
“Why so quiet, Mathilde?” Roald called out. “Surely you’re not surprised to see me again. I told you I’d come back, and so I have, except that now I’ve got the support of the king and an army at my back. Show some sense, Mathilde, and end this now. Open the gates and let me and my men enter. Surrender peacefully, and no one will be hurt.”
As if anyone in Ecclesford would believe him, especially her. “You tricked me once, Roald,” she called back. “Never again. In spite of the army you’ve somehow managed to raise, you have no hope of taking Ecclesford.”
“You’ve got a bunch of poorly trained foot soldiers and a castle full of frightened villagers. You don’t stand a chance against my men.”
“I would put any one of my soldiers against any of that rabble you’ve bought,” she declared. “The only way you will ever get inside this castle again, Roald, is if you’re carried in on a plank, dead. Tell that to your men, especially that brute who sits at your horse’s ass.”
“Mathilde!” Giselle gasped, while the three men beside her burst out laughing.
She glanced at her sister. “De Mallemaisonissitting at his horse’s ass.”
“You stupid slut!” Roald roared. “You’ll pay for that, and every other insult! You’ll be sorry you denied me my rights! I’ll make you beg my forgiveness on your knees!”
Henry grabbed a bit of loose stone, drew back his arm and launched it through the air. They could hear the clang as it hit Roald’s shining helmet.
“God’s blood!” he bellowed. “You dishonorable—”
“I’m only sorry it wasn’t a spear,” Henry loudly interrupted. “I used to throw stones at the birds that threatened the crops when I was a boy. It seems I haven’t lost the skill.”
“I’m going to kill you myself!”
“You’re welcome to try,” Henry replied. “And then, De Mallemaison, I’ll be looking foryou.”
Charles De Mallemaison raised his visor and Mathilde saw a face that belonged in a nightmare.
“With pleasure, Sir Henry,” he returned, bowing in his saddle. “I owe your brother some recompense for this scar on my face. Your body will do nicely. That blond beauty’s body will do for something else.”
Giselle blanched, then closed her eyes.
Mathilde went to her sister. “Giselle, are you—”
Holding tight to Cerdic, Giselle opened her eyes, which blazed with a fierce rancor. “I’m not going to faint, Mathilde. I was praying that God would strike him dead.”
“If He doesn’t, I will,” Cerdic vowed. “You are not to kill that one, Henry. He will be for me.”
“Alas, my friend, I can’t promise that. If I get the chance, he dies by my hand.”
“No,” Cerdic replied. “I want—”
“Let me in, Mathilde!” Roald shouted, interrupting their dispute. “Let me in or by God I’ll hang you from the walls!”
“Go away, Roald,” she called back. “I will never let you in. I will die first.”
Giselle stepped forward and shouted over the battlements, “And I would kill myself before I let your toady touch me!”
De Mallemaison laughed, but Roald’s face was red as a cardinal’s robes as he wheeled his horse with such a hard yank, it sat back on its haunches. He rode away through his lines of men, followed at a slower pace by De Mallemaison.
One thing was certain, Mathilde vowed as she watched. Neither she nor Giselle would be unarmed if the castle walls were breeched. She would die fighting rather than let Roald or his men touch them.
“Now, Henry, I assume you’ve got some sort of a plan?” Sir Ranulf asked, sounding for all the world as if he were talking about a feast.
Henry nodded and clapped his arm on his friend’s shoulder. “A rudimentary one. I’m sure you’ll say it needs improving and you’re just the man to tell me how. Cerdic, you come, too. I’ve thought of a task for a few of our best men. Ladies, will you join us?”
Mathilde had been wondering if he’d forgotten them.
Giselle shook her head. “I must see that my medicines and bandages are prepared, in case they’re needed.”
“I will leave the battle plans to the soldiers,” Mathilde said. “I should see that all have found accommodation.”
