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Philippa wanted to continue with the jest, but she could feel the awful tension between Roland and Daria. She didn’t know why there was such tension between them, but she wanted, oddly enough, to protect Daria.
Dienwald was also well aware of the strain between these two. “That vicious knave—Alan was his name—well, he was brutalizing your wife here—”
“You mean he raped her?”
Well, Dienwald thought, pleased with the gratifying violent reaction from Roland. He raised his hand. “Oh, no, I mean that he enjoyed causing her pain. Fat Master Giles chided him—part of their game, I suppose—and finally she was allowed to sleep, although Alan bound her wrists much too tightly. It was near to dawn that I slipped into their camp and brought her out.”
“And then my dearest husband enjoyed himself, Roland. He stripped all Master Giles’s people down to their skin and Master Giles as well. He left them there, bound, and we took their horses and their clothes and the cloth we had supposedly bought. Master Giles was bound naked to his throne.”
“A decent-enough punishment, I suppose,” Thomas said. “Are you feeling all right now, my dear?” he asked, his eyes on Daria. “A very frightening time for you.”
“I’m fine, truly, sir.”
“She wasn’t earlier,” Dienwald said. “She vomited until I believed she would fall over, so weak she was.”
To his surprise, Roland’s mobile features stiffened and he said, “Her vomiting is due to the babe she carries.”
“So she said,” Dienwald remarked. “You are to be congratulated for your swiftness, Roland.”
“Yes,” Roland said, his eyes on his wife, “I am of a swiftness that defies logic.”
Sir Thomas cleared his throat. He was vastly uncomfortable with all the eddies of tension that swirled around them. “You are all my guests. Had you come a sennight from now, you would be Roland’s guests. Before you arrived, he and I were talking about the renaming of Thispen-Ladock.”
“I’m not certain, sir—”
“Be quiet, Roland. You will begin your own dynasty, not continue mine. My family had their due of years. It’s now your turn. And that includes a name for your ancestral home.” He turned to Daria. “Now that your wife is here, we can secure her opinion.”
“I suppose Graelam and Kassia don’t know that you ran away from Wolffeton?”
She shook her head. “Not when I did it. They must know now.”
Roland felt full to bursting with rage. He said abruptly, “Excuse me, Thomas, Dienwald, but I would speak with my wife. Daria, come with me now. Philippa, I believe there is some bread and cheese. Tell a servant to fetch some.”
Daria knew she had no choice, even though now she wanted nothing more than to remain in this dank gloomy great hall and sip at warm ale. She’d been through so much to get to him, and now that she was here, now that he was standing impatiently in front of her, she didn’t want to move.
He took her arm and led her to the narrow winding stairs on the east side of the hall. The stairs were very steep and very narrow, more deeply and irregularly placed than any she’d ever before seen. Roland preceded her. There were three chambers along the bleak corridor, and he led her into the second. “This is where I sleep now; when the keep belongs to me—in seven days’ time, as Thomas said—then I will remove myself to Thomas’s chamber.”
“And where will Sir Thomas go?”
“He will leave his keep and journey to Dover. His daughter lives near Corfe Castle with her husband and many children. Thomas has no male heirs, thus the sale to me of Thispen-Ladock. But he needs coin for his daughter and her family, for his son-in-law is ill. When the king’s men arrive from their meeting with your uncle, I will have enough coin to pay him.”
“Will there be enough coin after you pay Sir Thomas for reparation on the keep here? It is in horrible condition.”
It was true; he’d thought the same thing in much more explicit words, but her condemnation but added fuel to his smoldering fire.
“This is your home now, madam. I suggest you change your notions of what is horrible and what isn’t. As to the remainder of the funds, why, you will have no say in how I wish to dispose of t
hem. None at all. Now, you will tell me why you so foolishly left Wolffeton. You will make me understand why you scorned Kassia and Graelam and traveled by yourself. You will tell my why your stupidity passes all bounds know to man.”
“I very nearly made it here safely.” She shrugged, looking toward the narrow window slit that had a rough animal hide nailed over it. “I was merely unlucky to chance upon Master Giles’s camp.”
“I should say you were luckier than God’s own angels to be rescued by Dienwald. The world is filled with the Master Giles sort. Do you have any ideas, can you begin to guess, what could have happened to you?”
She looked down at her hands, for it hurt to look into his cold, furious face, a face she’d recognized from the first moment she’d seen his so long ago, it seemed. “I was a prisoner for many months, Roland. I had a very good idea of what could have happened.”
“Still, it made no difference to you. Why did you do it, Daria? Why?”
She was twisting her hands together, she knew it, but couldn’t still their frantic motion. Slowly she raised her head and said simply, “You’re my husband. I wanted to be with you. I couldn’t bear to be left in another’s care, not really belonging, an unwanted guest.”
