Page 51 of Hers To Command
Mathilde stepped between them. With Ecclesford and the safety of her sister and her people at stake, she wasn’t above asking for any help she could get. “If you wish to stay, Sir Ranulf, my sister, my men and I will be grateful for your aid.”
His eyes bright with victory, Sir Ranulf’s mouth curved up in a grin that made him look more foxlike than ever while he bowed as gracefully as any courtier to Mathilde. “Then I shall gladly stay. Use me as you will, my lady. I am yours to command.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE COURTYARDwas chaos. Wagons and carts and people seeking refuge in the castle crowded in through the gate. Chickens squawked and flapped their wings, geese honked, dogs barked and cows lowed as they were reluctantly led toward the stables.
When they reached the wall walk, Mathilde saw that Giselle and Cerdic were already there, side by side, their shoulders touching, as they looked out to the road leading to the village. She wordlessly followed their gaze beyond the walls, to see a steady stream of people and animals coming to the castle, and in the distance, Roald’s army, his banner flapping in the cold October wind.
Shivering, she wrapped her arms about herself. She wasn’t just cold from the biting wind; judging by the dawn light glinting on metal, Roald had brought many more men than she had dreamed even in her worst nightmares.
“How many do you make it?” Henry asked Ranulf, echoing her own thoughts, and as if he and his friend hadn’t been nearly at each other’s throats only a few moments ago.
“Two hundred at least,” Ranulf grimly replied. “Where there’s the chance for loot, one can always raise an army.”
Feeling sickened, for she could guess the sort of army this would be, Mathilde clasped her hands and prayed all her people would reach the castle in time. Then she prayed that once there, all would be safe.
As Roald and his army came closer and they could distinguish the arms and armor of his men, Henry swore under his breath. “The big brute beside Roald wearing that plumed helmet,” he said to Ranulf. “Is that who I think it is?”
Ranulf followed Henry’s pointing finger, then hissed like a snake, and cursed, too.
“Who? Who is it?” Mathilde demanded, alarmed by their reaction.
Henry gave her a smile, yet his eyes betrayed a tension that had been absent before. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. And I probably shouldn’t be so surprised to see Charles De Mallemaison with Roald.”
“Who is Charles De Mallemaison?” she asked.
“A mercenary,” Henry said with a shrug and turning his attention back to the road, as if that was of no great import.
“A notorious one,” Ranulf added. “I wouldn’t have thought Roald could afford him. No doubt the rest of those men are thieves and murderers when they’re not fighting for pay.”
As Henry darted him a sharp and critical glance, Mathilde’s blood ran cold. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Giselle slip her hand into Cerdic’s and wished she’d kept quiet, except that they should know the kind of force they faced. Giselle was no child, and Cerdic might one day be the lord of Ecclesford.
If they defeated Roald and this army he’d bought.
God help her, she had so hoped it would not come to this! She had hoped Roald would back off, unwilling to risk a battle. Then she hoped she could count on the church, only to discover that the man she thought would support their claim was far from honest.
So many mistakes. How many more would she make before this was over and how many more would have to suffer for her errors?
Henry must have seen her dismay, for he gave her a more encouraging smile, and confidence returned to his features. “It doesn’t matter who those men are or what they’ve done. Our soldiers can beat thieves and murderers, who fight for themselves alone and don’t take orders very well—something Roald likely didn’t consider.”
“He never trained with Sir Leonard,” Sir Ranulf said, as if this were a serious detriment to success. Then he, too, smiled.
“Of course we’ll win,” Cerdic declared, coming closer. “We can beat any rabble Roald brings against us.”
“Naturally,” Sir Ranulf coolly agreed, “especially now that I’m here to help you.”
Mathilde couldn’t tell if Sir Ranulf was serious or not, and neither, obviously, could Giselle, for her sister stepped forward and demanded of Henry, “Cerdic is still second-in-command, is he not?”
Cerdic stood proudly at attention. “As long as we win, it matters not to me whether I am second-in-command or not.”
Sir Ranulf swiftly put up his hands as if to push away any bad feeling. “I have no wish to take any kind of command here. Henry can treat me as merely another soldier.”
“Ladies of Ecclesford!” Roald shouted from the other side of the dry moat.
At the sound of his detested voice, Mathilde went to the edge of the battlement, stepping into the embrasure between two merlons so that Roald could see her, until Henry unceremoniously pushed her behind one of the them. “Have a care, Mathilde. He’s probably got archers training their arrows on you right now.”
She hadn’t thought of that.
