By Right of Arms Read Online Free PDF

strength. She imagined that the women of his English court yearned for his attentions. She ardently wished him ugly and stupid, two qualities that would be easy to ridicule. But it was
her
bindings he cut. She could not decry his wisdom, strength, or even his appearance. He was older than Giles, perhaps thirty years of age.
    “Will I be allowed retirement?” she asked.
    “My ears deceive me. Did your messenger confuse your request? I was told you desired the time for a mass above all other concessions.” He smiled. “This I have obliged.”
    She pulled her hand out of his. “Perhaps I will flee,” she said.
    “Where, madame? To a harsher master?” He chuckled. “Even an approved sojourn would be difficult. There is war on the land.”
    “Or join my husband in death, as I honorably should.”
    “Shall I leave you the blade,
chérie?”
he asked gently, turning it over in the palm of his hand. He shook his head. “Nay, I will not kill you. I dislike useless death and do not desire yours. I honor your right to die valiantly, if that is your choice.” He shrugged. “But I think it would only cause greater suffering for those captured in this hall.”
    He laid the knife down on the rushes before her and turned his back to begin arranging the cold, brittle sticks and logs on her hearth. The sight of his back aggravated her more. He did not fear her, as if she lacked the courage to attack him. She picked up the knife and gingerly tested the blade, causing a bright swell of blood to appear on her finger. The instrument was worthy of the task, and in a swift motion she drew up on her knees, holding the knife high, ready to bring it down into his flesh. As quickly, with but a slight turn and deft movement, the knife was struck from her hand and sent flying across the room. It landed with a clatter and she was sprawled beneath him in the rushes.
    His eyes, dark and smoldering, bored into hers. His jaw was tense and his mouth set in an angry line. He held her arms over her head in one hand, the other free to beat her senseless if he so chose.
    “If some sharp dagger lay hidden in your mourning gown,
chérie,
use it quickly and well, for two score of your people will die with each missed mark.”
    “There is no weapon,” she said slowly. “How many of mine will you slay for this?”
    He shook his head. “This I yield to you,” he said softly. “ ’Tis your nature, is it not? But from now, madame, I will tie you in the courtyard and you will watch each of your villeins suffer as they pay the price for your foolish acts. Do well to hear me and know that I speak only the truth.”
    “You are clever,
seigneur.
My life means nothing to me now, but those abused by your men are tender souls who have never been helpless under a demon rule before your cruel arrival.”
    He raised one brow and a half smile touched his lips. “I could have sworn the guard stood fast outside your door, Aurélie. How is it the peasants already bring you complaints?”
    She wiggled slightly beneath him, knowing he taunted her. “I heard women scream and the breaking of doors. Do you play me for a fool?”
    He seemed almost amused by her anger. “To some, the defeat has come hard, but most already serve. Your tender souls have had no rule here; the fair Giles was too busy about his prayers to …”
    She began to fight him in earnest when he maligned the memory of her husband. Her arms strained futilely against his hand and she tried to kick, writhe, push. He was large and as solid as a stone statue.
    “Cease!” he commanded her. “Hear me, wench, for I will not spend much time teaching you. Your villeins do not suffer, but for the stupid few who test my wrath. I give you more consideration than you deserve. Indeed, I have allowed you much. You think I gave you leave for a mass for the dead?” he laughed. “Nay, my clever vixen, I gave you leave to rob your own stores and flee if you would. And I give you more; I will give you a short time