Richmond eyed the man before reaching out a deliberate hand to retrieve the material from Ovid’s grasp. After a moment of scrutiny, he nodded. “It is.”
The tension in the room thickened. On the dais, William was on his feet and Maude watched, terrified, as de Rydal soldiers suddenly appeared in the doorway leading from the foyer.
“Ovid, remove your soldiers immediately,” William boomed, leaping from the dais as fast as his rotund body could move. “How dare you bring arms into my home!”
Ovid was quivering violently, unresponsive to his host as his eyes remained riveted to Richmond. William moved to stand beside Richmond, his fair face threatening. “Do you hear me? Remove your soldiers before I unleash my personal guard!”
As if on cue, several dozen soldiers appeared on the lofts overlooking the grand gallery, armed to the teeth with crossbows and long-range spears. As Ovid tore his gaze away long enough to look upward, Gavan emerged from the kitchen doors, leading an entire company of Richmond’s soldiers. But he refrained from positioning them, waiting for Richmond’s signal.
Tension was joined by fear. There were as many soldiers as guests in the gallery and the noblemen began to shield the wives and daughters instinctively. On the dais, Daniel and Carlton had herded the ladies into a small, frightened huddle in anticipation of the unfolding events.
It did not take Ovid an over amount of intelligence or time to deduce that he had, mayhap, acted rashly. But his grief was consuming him, driving him daft with unchecked emotion. Emotion that devoured his common sense as he faced off against Richmond and William.
“I came for le Bec,” his voice was shaky, thin. “Give him to me and I shall be happy to remove my men-at-arms.”
“I am not going anywhere, as I am completely innocent of these outrageous charges you are so free in announcing,” Richmond said steadily. “If your son has been assaulted, it was not my doing.”
“You are a liar!” Ovid crowed in grief, shaking a finger at Richmond. “My boy is dying because of your twisted sense of pride. You sent your men to ambush him in retaliation for his alleged action against you during the Stick and Ball game!”
“That is nonsense,” William snapped quietly. “Richmond le Bec is not a murderer. He’s a respected knight with an impeccable reputation.”
“He was hostile to Tad from the onset!” Ovid returned angrily, his voice cracking with emotion. “From the very moment my son set foot inside Lambourn, Richmond has declared a personal vendetta against him!”
“Why would I do that?” Richmond asked calmly. “I do not even know your son. He, however, has proven to be ill-mannered and sly, which is why he was sent on his way. If he was ambushed, I had nothing to do with it.”
“Then explain your standard, le Bec!” Ovid thrust a thick finger at the tattered piece of fabric. “It was on the arrow that imbedded itself within my son’s chest!”
Richmond handed the fabric to William, who studied it closely. “I assure you, Lord de Rydal, that I had nothing to do with the attack on your son. I swear this to you.”
Ovid’s expression began to loosen, far less furious and far more desperate. “He’s just a lad, a young lad with a glorious future ahead of him. Why would you do this?” Between Richmond and William, he caught sight of Arissa’s astonished face and he suddenly focused on her. His accusations progressed to gain a portion of madness. “It’s because of her, isn’t it? MyTad graced her with his presence and charm and the both of you took offense to his attentions. You are both involved in this…. thisplot!”
“The only plot is the one you have managed to create within your own mind,” William answered, his voice a growl. “You will clear out of here immediately, de Rydal. Consider yourself fortunate if I do not seek a measure of vengeance against you for ruining my daughter’s birthday.”
Ovid’s wild gaze moved between Richmond and William. He was so badly shaken that his gray-hued cheeks were visibly quivering. “The king will hear about this. Simply because le Bec is a royal favorite does not mean that he can get away with murder. There will be justice!”
“If I understand correctly, Tad isn’t dead yet,” William reminded him. “Furthermore, Richmond has told you that he did not have a hand in this and you will do him the courtesy of believing his word.”
Ovid shook his head, taking a step back and nearly stumbling over his floor-length surcoat. He continued to weave unsteadily as he quit the room, his eyes locked on Richmond and William. He moved like a man whose control had escaped him, a soul spiraling towards the depths of insanity.
“I shall have my revenge,” he said hoarsely, spittle dripping from his lips. “I am not daft, le Bec. You did this, as the evidence states. This is not over!”
Richmond did not reply as Ovid staggered from the room, followed closely by his soldiers. Near the kitchens, Gavan emitted a piercing whistle and Richmond’s troops immediately closed in to pursue the de Rydal group. The sounds of jingling mail and marching boots filled the gallery when the only sounds heard should have been those of music and laughter.
Shaken, William did not even wait until Richmond’s soldiers had cleared the room before he ordered the music to resume.Weakly, the orchestra struck up a lively tune that quickly escalated into a gay dance. ’Twould seem that the entire crowd of guests was eager to forget the fear that had filled the air not a few moments before, and several couples delved into the folkdance eagerly.
Richmond was gradually aware that Arissa was clutching his hand so tightly that her nails had drawn blood. He passed a concerned glance at her as William turned to him.
“Goddamn lunatic,” he muttered, meeting Richmond’s gaze. “I apologize for the public humiliation, Richmond.”
Richmond shook his head. “No need, William. But I am rather concerned that my standard appeared on the arrow that struck down Tad de Rydal. Under the circumstances, Lord de Rydal could only believe I was announcing my revenge for being ousted in the game this afternoon.”
“You professed your innocence and he should be intelligent enough to take you at your word,” William scratched his head in a nervous gesture, glancing to the calming dais. “Well, now, Maude is upset. I should go calm my wife. Will you take care of my daughter, as you have done so ably for all these years?”
Richmond looked down at Arissa, her face pale and fearful. He forced a brave smile. “I shall make a valiant attempt.”
William looked to his daughter, knowing that Richmond would be far better at calming her nerves than he would have been. Richmond had always been able to communicate with her, whereas he had never quite managed to make a strong connection.
As the earl strolled across the room, loudly assuring guests that all was well and demanding they continue to enjoy themselves, Richmond pried Arissa’s fingers from his bloodied hand.
