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downpour, but by that time the men about the king were trying to help Urse
with his fallen lord.
"A1--Edward," Urse cried, sighting Aldyth.
"No--don't come near-You ... you shouldn't see him now" -- he warned, but she
ignored him.
"Here, what's this? Lord Ranulf's page? Easy, lad, easy," someone was
saying, but then one of the nobles had pulled off Ranulf's helmet, pushing
back his hair, so midnight black in contrast to the pallid, bloodless face.
Someone else stepped back after having pushed Ranulf's hauberk up away from
the wound, and she saw the widening stain spreading over the lower edge of
his arming tunic. Aldyth screamed again and, eluding an attempt to grab her,
threw herself at Ranulf's body, sobbing, her fingers diving for his chest to
see if he still lived.
The heavy metal links made it difficult to be sure his heart was still
beating, but she thought his chest rose slightly under her cheek. Her hand
flew to his neck, and yes, there was a thrumming against her fingers just at
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the angle between the neck and the jaw. But 'twas so feeble and quick! And
still the crimson stain spread at his thigh.
"Oh, please! Can't you see he's bleeding to death? Help him, in God's
mercy!" she screamed, then hardly knowing what she did, she kissed him,
wondering dazedly if it would be the last time she did so while he lived.
"Send my physician to my tent?" bellowed Rufus at her side.
"Here, you men! Carry him thence! No, you wait here," he said, fingers
fastening like an iron vise aroUnd her wrist when she would have followed as
Ranulf was being borne away.
Frozen with the realization that she was discovered, she allowed herself to
be stopped.
"Look at me," the king's voice commanded.
Aldyth quaked inwardly as she lifted her chin, her eyes seeing first the
springy, ginger-colored hair thinning at the top, then the high-colored
complexion and, lastly, the penetrating gaze of Rufus's slightly bulging
hazel orbs.
"" Tis a maid and not a boy," he said softly, cupping her chin and turning it
first this way and then that, rubbing her cheeks with one callused thumb,
feeling the softness. of her skin through the dirt she always smudged on her
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face. " "TIS a maid? he repeated to the nobles thronging around him. "
Lord Ranulf's little page boy is a maid, not a boy--fancy that! " He looked
at her with ineming intensity.
"Well, say something, girl. You are female, are you not, by the Face of
Lucca?"
"Aye," she sobbed, her tears washed away by the rain. "Aye, your grace, I am
female."
"Who are you? Why did our Ranulf have you with him? He called you Edward,
or something like that, did he not?
Why would he do such a thing? This casts our Ranulf in a wholly different
light, does it not? " he said musingly to the ' rescued Pertin, who still
stood near.
Should she tell the truth? Would it be better or worse for Ranulf if she
admitted that she not only was not a boy but wife to Ranulf?
'Your grace, Lord Ranulf meant to perform no deception toward you but only,
in his chivalry, to aid me," she There was the sound of a scuffling behind
them, and a voice she had hoped never to hear again said, I believe I can
tell you what you wish to know. she is Aldyth of Sherborne, and my runaway
beAldyth stared, aghast, at the rain-drenched man-at-arms who stood before
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her. There was an evil gleam of triumph in his pale blue eyes.
"No..." she moaned. No! Not here, not now, when Ranulf is bleeding, maybe
dying! The king whirled around, surprisingly swift for a man of his
barrel-chested bulk, and studied the dripping soldier. "And who in the devil
are you, knave?"
Turold swallowed before answering.
"Turold of Swanlea,. your grace, and one of your most loyal ofEnglish sub
jeers He shut his mouth temporarily as Rufus held up an impatient hand.
"And this is my woman--that is to say, my betrothed--who has run away from my
generosity and kindness and treacherously fornicated with that evil demon [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]