By Right of Arms Read Online Free PDF Page B

to do your worst. Tear at your hair, scream, rend your black gowns, and wallow in ashes. I will leave you this chamber for your choice of torture. And, I will leave you the blade; if you do not value life, use it.”
    “You will wear my blood on your soul,” she growled.
    He smiled suddenly. “God will never know yours from all the others’,
chérie.
If my soul is damned for killing, your blood will not damn me any further.” His smile faded into a frown, almost pitying in its quality. “I suppose this is a poor time to remind you, for my losses were not so heavy as yours … but the de Pourvre army took a few lives with them.” He shrugged. “Who of us, madame, loves war? Even though I make my own living from the booty, I would rather hold my land against armies than travel endlessly in search of victories. It is land that causes us to fight, and surely the victor finds it easier to bury his own dead than the vanquished. But this land is Edward’s, from the Duchy of Aquitaine first brought to England by Queen Eleanor … a long time ago.”
    “England pays homage to the king,” she argued, her words remembered from Giles’s testimony. “John is king here.”
    “The battle is nearly over,
chérie.”
    “Nay!”
    He looked down into her eyes, holding her firmly beneath him. His weight, full upon her, pressed her hard against the floor. His thighs lay heavy on hers, his belly was flat and as hard as his shield, and his broad chest crushed and hurt her breasts. To her horror, she felt his bold desire and knew that he could find many ways to punish her. He let his cheek brush hers, his beard tickling her neck and causing her a sudden shiver. The knuckles of his free hand brushed the skin of her jaw and neck and he ran one finger down over her chest to touch the valley between her breasts. She thought surely she had bought her rape with her waspish tongue and her eyes were wide with sudden fear. Yet, he went no further.
    “But if you choose life,
ma petite,
must I bear the mark of your pleasure on my heart?”
    “I hate you.” Her mouth formed the barely audible words.
    “I don’t doubt it, Aurélie. But I think you are more clever than this. I think you will conceal your hatred for a time, if only to catch me unaware.” And then in a very deep whisper, he asked, “Did Giles know the full measure of his good fortune?”
    The question stirred a memory that held deep sorrow within her and she turned her face away. Although she knew her marriage to Giles was different from most, there had been some happiness for her here, with him. She could not mourn the loss of something she had never known, but she did not want Sir Hyatt to look into her eyes. She believed him a devil who might be capable of seeing her secrets.
    He lifted himself from her quickly and she took in a deep, freeing breath. He walked toward the door and once there, paused to kick the knife toward her. He smiled, bowed, and quit the room.
    Aurélie looked down at the blade, knowing it was a worthy notion to pierce her breast and end the torture of watching this cocky knight usurp her home. But she did not reach for it. She crumpled to the floor and wept until the tears would come no more.
    * * *
    Though Hyatt had barely slept, he was summoned hours before cockcrow by the arrival of the carts bearing the dead. He had left his remaining forces, supplies, servants, and others to follow after De la Noye was taken. Their task was to bring those dead who wore the de Pourvre colors to the castle town for burial.
    To return the slain lord to his demesne for burial was a great act of charity on the part of the conqueror, but this further concession of returning all the dead, some forty men, was a time-consuming and burdensome chore. Those whom Hyatt had left behind with the instructions were hard pressed to understand his action. This kindness would also confuse the survivors within De la Noye.
    A lengthy entourage of people followed him to the castle,