Rosamund stared at the faces of each man, her expression hard like an iron blade. Then she turned her back and returned to the steps of thedonjon. No longer was she a fearful young woman in her husband’s shadow. Instead, she reminded him of a fierce warrior maiden who had faced her battle and won.
He waited until the men returned to their duties before he mounted the stairs and followed. Inside the Great Hall, Rosamund had claimed her place at the dais. She dined at the high table, and Warrick moved to the closer end of the room, keeping beside the wall to watch over her. Though she ate in silence, when he studied her closely, he saw that her hands were shaking. He doubted if she had ever addressed her soldiers before.
Owen was gone for now, but he would return. And when he did, Rosamund would have to fight back to protect herself and those she loved.
* * *
Rosamund forced herself to dine in front of her people, but every bite was like dirt within her mouth. Never before had she confronted so many men, and it took great effort to appear calm and composed before them.
For now, she was safe. She had given orders that Owen de Courcy not be allowed within the gates, as long as Alan was alive. It was enough for now. But her fears had multiplied inside her, and she knew that safety at Pevensham was only an illusion.
Her maid Berta walked past her table, carrying a tray of food for Alan, but Rosamund stopped her. ‘My husband is resting now. I will take the food to him.’
She studied her maid closely, remembering Warrick’s warning about the food. Berta had been her maid for so long, she trusted the woman with her own life. Surely she was no threat to Alan.
But Rosamund had to be certain.
She gestured for the maid to come forward with the tray. Berta obeyed, but Rosamund spied a trace of fear. It might be because of Owen, but she wondered if aught was amiss.
‘Is something wrong?’ she asked the maid.
‘No, my lady.’
Rosamund lifted her gaze to the men and saw Warrick rise from his place, bringing his own two men with him. They walked towards the dais, surrounding Berta.
Warrick moved to stand beside the woman. ‘You have been a trusted servant for years. And you have been bringing your lord his food and drink, have you not?’
The maid nodded, her expression stricken. But the fear in her eyes suggested something worse.
‘Eat the food upon the tray,’ Warrick ordered. ‘If you are loyal, as you say, then prove it to your lady.’
The woman’s face whitened. ‘I am not hungry.’
Dear God,Rosamund thought.It suddenly became clear that Warrick’s suspicions had merit. She stood from her seat, an icy fury pouring through her. ‘I care not if you are hungry. You must eat everything you intended to serve to my husband.’
The maid dropped the tray, sobbing. ‘I am sorry, my lady. Owen de Courcy forced me. He said he would kill my son if I did not do as he commanded.’
Her anger deepened at the maid’s betrayal. ‘And you never thought to come to me for help? After all the years you served us, you never once spoke to Alan or to me.’
The maid only continued sobbing her apologies. Deep inside, Rosamund felt her emotions grow numb. Berta had tried to kill her overlord, and there was only one consequence for such a deed.
She knew it—and yet, she also knew Berta could have killed Alan with a single dose of poison. Why had she delayed it for so long?
‘Force her to eat the food!’ one of the soldiers urged. The crowd was growing angry on behalf of their lord, and she knew they would tear Berta apart if she did not intervene.
‘Seize her and bring her to me in the solar,’ Rosamund commanded. Then she strode away from the others. She kept her posture rigid and tried to keep all emotion from her face. But inwardly, she wanted to weep at the thought of her maid’s treachery. And how many other men and women in this castle were under orders from Owen?
Rosamund chose foods from her own plate and took them with her above stairs as she walked to the solar.
Why are you hesitating?her brain demanded.She is guilty of poisoning Alan.
But she didn’t kill him,another voice reasoned.
And therein lay her doubts. Berta had admitted that Owen had taken her son. No one had seen Martin in days, and undoubtedly Owen was using the boy to control his mother.
I should have her killed,she thought to herself.She deserves no mercy.
She sat down, trying to govern her own emotions and think clearly. There was hardly any time, for when Warrick brought her maid to the solar, Berta was weeping uncontrollably. She threw herself at Rosamund’s feet, begging, ‘Forgive me, my lady. I never meant to harm my lord. But Martin is just a boy. He’s only nine, and Owen swore he would slit his throat if I didn’t obey. What could I do?’
