Rexanne Becnel Read Online Free PDF

cried as she lifted her skirts and ran swiftly to his side. “What is it? What’s happening?”
    “Don’t worry.” He patted her arm distractedly, his eyes anxiously watching the hasty preparations. “’Tis nothing you need worry about. Just take the ladies to the great hall and try to keep everyone calm.”
    “But can’t you tell me what’s going on? I must know,” she pleaded as she held tightly to his arm.
    He seemed to hear her then, and at last he met her worried gaze. “A full complement of armed men approach. Mounted knights, foot soldiers, and a caravan behind.” He paused. “They fly banners of black and red.”
    As Lord Barton hurried away, shouting as he went, Lilliane stared after him in shock. Colchester flew black and red. Colchester was attacking Orrick! There could be no other cause for them to march so boldly up the hard-packed turnpike. There were no wars to the north, nothing to require such a display of strength.
    They should have known better than to become complacent during the recent peaceful years, Lilliane fretted as she turned to find Tullia and Odelia. The Colchesters were an evil and cruel lot. Not in word or deed could anyone from Orrick trust them. Now it was clear they meant to humiliate Orrick by trapping all the wedding guests and holding the castle to siege. Angry and frustrated, Lilliane had no outlet for her emotions save the efficient management of the frightened guests.
    It was two long hours before any word filtered down to the women and children gathered in the great hall. Even then they were left with more questions than answers, for the orders Lord Barton sent Lilliane bade her to clear the hall and to set out a jug of the finest ale the alewife had on hand and two tankards. Beyond that curt demand there was nothing.
    The bailey was crowded with family, guests, and retainers when the bridge across the moat was lowered. Every protesting creak of the seldom-used cranking mechanism resounded across the multitude, but all else was hushed. Even the sheep and cattle penned temporarily between the stables and the tannery seemed to know better than to raise their voices.
    As ominous as the bells of doom, the heavy measured tread of a large animal was finally heard crossing the bridge. When two other sets of horse hooves were also heard, Lilliane cringed in spite of herself.
    The first rider who emerged through the gatehouse was an impressive sight. His steed was a deep-chested destrier, a war-horse clearly bred for strength, endurance, and speed. As black as coal, the animal’s high arching neck and near-prancing gait seemed almost a challenge to the silently gaping crowd.
    Sandwiched between her sisters, Lilliane was no less impressed by the magnificent destrier. But it was the huge knight astride the beast that truly awed her. He was clad in a bissyn shirt and a black leather sleeveless tunic, cut short in the warrior manner. Tall and erect, he wore neither armor nor chain mail, yet there was about him an air of invincibility, as if not arrow, blade, or mace could stay him from his goal. His head was bare of helm or hood, and in the light breeze his black hair lifted slightly.
    It was the only part of him that appeared soft.
    From his black leather boots to the piercing stare of his eyes, he looked as hard as forged iron. Lilliane had to prevent herself from making a quick sign of the cross as he passed where she stood. As brave as Daniel in the lion’s den, he rode purposefully to where her father stood at the steps of the great hall. Then he dismounted and arrogantly preceded Lord Barton into the hall.
    When the doors closed with an audible thud, the entire company in the bailey seemed to let loose their collectively held breath. The two riders who had followed their lord did not dismount, but only turned their steeds to face the curious throng.
    Inside the great hall, Lord Barton offered his unexpected guest a chair, then he took his seat as well. It was not until his aged