Gavan bobbed his head in approval. “A wise decision. Women are much better with names than men.”
“I disagree,” Richmond said. “Men select names worthy of their glory, while women tend to choose titles of home and hearth.”
Arissa cocked an eyebrow. “Are you saying, in effect, that I would saddle your glorious keep with a name unworthy of your veneration?”
“Not at all. But you must take my magnificent reputation into account when you make your selection.”
Her eyes twinkled at Gavan as she replied to Richmond’s arrogant statement. “I have chosen a name already. We shall call our splendid new fortress Mother’s Lap.”
Richmond winced as Gavan laughed uproariously. “She knows you well, Richmond,” Gavan snorted. “Why not call it Fool’s Lair?”
“With you lingering within the walls, that particular name would be fitting,” Richmond retorted, returning his focus to Arissa. “As much as I would like to consider your title for our fortress, I must ask that you amend your choice. Surely there are other names that can be suggested.”
She smiled wearily, heavy-lidded as a result of her crying jag and the sway of the horse. “I suppose I can think of something else, if I must.”
Richmond pulled her closer, wrapping the oiled tarp more tightly about her body as the wind kicked up. “How gracious, my lady.”
The rain increased substantially as bolts of lightning began to light up the sky. Cradled against Richmond, Arissa started in response to the addition of the lightning, but Richmond casually glanced into the pounding night sky as if the element was of little concern.
“We will stop for the night to remove Arissa from this harsh climate,” he said to Gavan. “Oxford is another two hours.”
Gavan nodded, watching a vicious streak of lightning carve a path through the black clouds. “Agreed. In fact, I shall send a couple of soldiers ahead to secure a room at a local inn. She should not be exposed to this weather any longer than necessary.”
“Absolutely not,” Richmond agreed. “In fact, have the soldiers secure two rooms.”
Gavan cast him a glance. “One for you? Since when do you sleep in a warm bed while I suffer in the rain?”
Richmond’s gaze was steady. “Where I sleep, my second sleeps. The second room is for you.”
Gavan, however, still was not grasping his meaning. “Me? I am to sleep in a warm bed while you….” suddenly, he comprehended exactly what he had been told and a shadowof a grin crossed his lips. “Thank you, my lord. You are most generous.”
Arissa, however, had yet to comprehend the gist of it. Her lovely brow furrowed and she sniffled into her damp handkerchief. “If Gavan has one room and I have the other, where are you going to sleep?”
Richmond cocked an eyebrow, lowering his visor as he gazed at the road beyond. “Not with Gavan.”
*
Oxford was abustling city situated fifteen miles north and east of Lambourn. The rain continued to pour mercilessly as the column closed in on the outskirts; fifty men, horses, a wagon, two armored knights and one drenched lady. Richmond and Gavan were met by the two soldiers they had sent ahead to procure accommodations.
“We had our pick of inns, my lord,” one man saluted Richmond sharply. “We selected The Willow and secured two rooms and a meal.”
“Excellent,” Richmond glanced over his shoulder at his men, standing in ranks under the driving rain. Beyond them, less than a quarter of a mile away, was a thick cluster of trees. Richmond gestured to the foliage. “Grimsby, have the men set up camp in those trees. The Willow is on Longwall Street, is it not?”
“Aye, my lord.”
“Then you will know where to find me. Make sure the men eat before they retire; they shall need their strength.”
As the two soldiers went to do their liege’s bidding, Richmond spurred his charger forward and sent Gavan for Arissa’s trunk.
Oxford was quiet but for the occasional shouts of distant laughter emitting from one of her numerous inns. Arissawatched the small buildings and shops pass by, scrutinizing each one curiously. Except for the village of Lambourn, she’d never strayed beyond the limits of the earldom and felt a certain amount of enthusiasm as Richmond’s massive charger plodded past the bakery, a jeweler’s shop, and a silversmith. It was all new and wonderful, and her mood began to lighten with the excitement.
The Willow was the largest hostel in town, well-lit and moderately crowded. Richmond dismounted his steed, gently setting Arissa to her feet in the sticky mud. Taking her hand, he led her into the warm, hazy structure.
The smell of smoke and vomit hit Arissa like a sharp slap as she entered the establishment, causing her to catch her breath and wrinkle her nose. Richmond slanted her a gaze, his eyes twinkling with mirth. He was relatively immune to the repulsive scents of humankind, but Arissa’s delicate balance was immediately offended.
“Richmond, if our room smells like this….”
He put his arm around her protectively, his eyes searching for the innkeeper. “It will not, I promise. If it does, I shall demand that they scrub it clean until it meets with your approval.”
