Lara closed her eyes and pressed herlips tight.Why had she gone and told the captain that her prizehad been claimed?That she was a witch?She opened her eyes to aloud snicker and Ranulf practically squirming in his seat.Sheglanced sideways at the captain, the muscle in his jaw tickingdouble time as he flexed his scarred hand.
“The lady has given me noreason to doubt the truth of what she says happened with Fulrad,”he told the count, and Lara released the breath she hadn’t realizedshe’d been holding.Sophie was right about him.He played this gamewith much more skill than she.He’d defended her honor most ably,if not her virtue.Which was her own damned fault.
Count Nithard sat back, a small smileplaying at the corners of his thin lips as he addressed the hall.“Do any here know of any instance in which the accused has actedother than right and virtuous?”
Ranulf stood and smirked at Lara,whose blood went cold.She swayed on her feet and was steadied bythe captain’s big, warm hand cupping her elbow.
“The floor is RanulfMidered’s,” his father, the count, said.
Ranulf strolled around the table,stopped in front of Lara and the captain, then turned his back tothem as he presented himself to the stewards.“As you have allknown me my entire life, you know that I haven’t always had thisscar.”He twisted his head from side to side as the stewards made ashow of inspecting his whiskerless chin, then he turned to faceLara and the captain, whose grip on her elbow tightened.“It wasthe accused, the witch Lara, who marked me with herknife.”
He stepped closer, his chin high forthe captain’s perusal, and Wolf growled.Lara laid her hand on thedog’s head.“Down, Wolf.”He stopped growling, but still stood atthe ready, his intent gaze following Ranulf as he smartly backedaway.
“Captain,” Count Nithardsaid.“If you would put the dog at a safe distance.We wouldn’twant the beast to bite through my son’s throat now, wouldwe?”
Lara chuffed, and the captain gave hera warning glare before he glanced over his shoulder and nodded toSophie, who stepped up and took Wolf by his collar.Sophie leveledher gaze on the count until he gulped and ran a shaky finger alongthe neckline of his robe as if it had suddenly become too tight,then she stepped back and stood behind Lara and the captain withWolf firmly in her grasp.
“Ahem.”Count Nithardcleared his throat and tugged on his robe’s hems.“You maycontinue,” he told Ranulf.
“It was the summer of myseventeenth year.”Ranulf swaggered back and forth in front of theassembly.“I was on my way to study with the Abbot Rogert, abirthday present from my esteemed father.”
Lara snorted as Ranulf stopped andbowed low to the count.It was common knowledge that Ranulf hadnever studied anything except women and swordplay.He bragged aboutit often enough.
“I came upon the accused,the witch, Lara, alone and standing stark naked in the river.”Hepaused as gasps and whispers filled the hall.The captain tightenedthe hold of his scarred hand on Lara’s elbow.“Lured by the sightand promise of her flesh, as any young man would be, I went to her,and she kissed me.I fell into a strange, hazy dream, from which Iawoke to find her cutting at my purse string.I pushed her away andshe lashed out with her knife at my throat.”He paused again, hisgaze sweeping over the assembly.“It was only by the grace of Godthat I escaped with my purse and my life.”
“And the proof?”thecaptain demanded.
“The proof is this witch’smark I now carry.”Ranulf flicked his fingers at the scar that ranacross his chin, marring his pretty face.“It reminds me daily ofher treachery.”
“A man earns many scars,boy,” the captain growled, the scar on his cheek gone white.“Thatpiddling scratch proves nothing.”
Ranulf stood speechless, his hand onthe jeweled hilt of the knife at his waist.The count coughed once,twice, and Ranulf looked to his father, then lifted his hand fromhis knife and his lips into a semblance of a smile.“The witch willshow her own proof against her,” he said with a smug sneer.“Forher skin was the tanned bronze of a pagan’s used to traipsing nakedin the woods, not pale and untouched by the sun as a good, pure,Christian maid’s should be.”
He moved toward Lara, and the captainpulled her behind him, standing between her and Ranulf, as solidand stalwart as a stone wall.
“No need to get yourhackles up, Guiscard,” Ranulf said.“I’ve only to show her legs toprove my words.”
“You will show nothing ofher, Midered.”The captain’s voice was low, and his big, cordedhand was on the hilt of his longsword.“I have seen her legs,” hesaid loud enough for all to hear.“And I say they are lily white.Perhaps you truly were dreaming and fell down and cut yourchin?”
Lara couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.If Ranulf challenged the captain’s assertion and the count demandedshe show her legs, she was as good as hung.She instinctivelystepped in closer to the captain, her nose no more than ahandsbreadth from his broad back, and he stood even taller andsquared his formidable shoulders.
“Perhaps I was dreaming,”Ranulf ceded with a shrug of his much slenderer shoulders.“Perhapsnot.Yet who can blame me, for a dish once tasted…”
Lara sucked her breath in, and thecaptain’s entire body tensed and stilled.
“It is, of course, themagistrate’s decision,” Ranulf finished with a bow to hisfather.
Lara peeked over the captain’sshoulder at Nithard, whose gaze was fixed on something or someonebehind her.She turned around and gave a feral grin.The count wasstaring at Sophie, who stared right back at him with her sure,Sophie the Sixth half-smile.
“We will accept CaptainGuiscard’s word on the witch’s legs,” Nithard announced.“Andwhatever other parts of her body he’s had the opportunity to seeunclothed.”A grassfire of whispers swept through the hall, andLara’s cheeks burned.“The accused will come forward.”
Lara stepped out from behind thecaptain, her shoulder just touching his arm.
“Was it you who scarredRanulf’s chin with your knife?”
Lara lengthened her spine and liftedher chin.“It was,” she said.“I cut him when he accosted me in theriver.”
Nithard pressed his lips together andnarrowed his beady gaze on her.“Do you truly expect this court tobelieve that twice—” He held up two fingers and waved them in theair.“—twice now, you have been accosted by men of good standing,without provocation, and that both times you have walked awaywithout so much as a scratch whilst leaving one man, a seasonedsoldier, with grave injuries, and the other, a young noblemanschooled by sword masters, with a witch’s mark?That you, a merewoman, a healer schooled in the old arts, did so without trickeryor evil intent?”
