“Old Rose the Whore.”
Isobeau’s eyes widened in shock. “I do not know any such song,” she said stiffly. “Even if I did, I would not sing it. What else would you have me sing?”
The old soldier was giggling at her offended manner. “Do you know Tilly Nodden?”
Isobeau eyed him suspiciously. “You only want me to sing unseemly songs.”
The old man put a hand on her arm. “That is all I know, my lady,” he said. “I am a soldier and know a soldier’s life. Do ye know Tilly Nodden?”
Isobeau frowned. “Well,” she said reluctantly, “I have heard it a few times. My father had soldiers that would sing it.”
The old soldier’s eyes twinkled in the dim light. “It is a happy song,” he said. “Would ye please sing it for me?”
Isobeau was very hesitant. “I cannot sing some of the verses,” she insisted. “Iwillnot.”
“Then sing the chorus. Let me sing it with ye.”
Isobeau opened her mouth to try to refuse him yet again because the chorus had some very dirty phrases in it when a deep, smooth voice interrupted.
“That is not an appropriate song for a lady to sing. Choose another song.”
Isobeau looked up to see where the voice had come from and noticed, tucked back against the wall, a big man laying upon a pallet. He was actually sitting up, his back against the wall, and both of his legs below the knees were tightly wrapped. Because of the dimness in the hall, she couldn’t really see his face but it began to occur to her who the man was.The knight Atticus cut down.She wasn’t particularly frightened, but she was wary.
“Thank you, my lord,” she said rather firmly. “I can make my own denials.”
“You have not done a very good job.”
She eyed the man in the shadows with some irritation. “I am trying to be polite with a wounded man.”
“That is true, my lady, but he is taking advantage of your good heart by trying to coerce you into singing a bawdy song.”
The knight was probably right. Frowning, and unhappy that she had very nearly sang that bawdy tavern song that spoke of a cross-dressing whore, she stood up and collected her bucket with water, making her way over to the knight in the darkness.
Isobeau could see the man’s face better now. He was handsome, square-jawed, with black eyes and long hair that tumbled in waves to his shoulders. He was handsome in a barbaric sort of way and she eyed him curiously.
“You are the knight that my husband cut down,” she said. “What is your name?”
The knight dipped his head politely. “I am Sir Alrik du Reims,” he said. “You may call me Rik. No one calls me Alrik except my wife when she is cross with me. When she uses my full name, it is time to run and hide.”
His humor softened Isobeau somewhat and she fought off a grin. “You are married, then?”
He nodded. “Indeed I am,” he said. “I have a wife and three small daughters.”
Isobeau knelt a foot or so away from him, scooping some water from her bucket and extending the cup to him. “Where do they live?”
Du Reims took the cup gratefully and drank. “At Arundel Castle,” he said, smacking his lips. “My wife is actually from Sussex. I met her whilst stationed at Arundel.”
Isobeau took back the empty cup. “Have you been away from them a long time?”
Du Reims’ black eyes took on a distant cast. “It seems like ages,” he said. “It has only been a few months, but it seems like ages.”
There was such longing in his voice that it tugged at Isobeau’s heart. She couldn’t help it. She lowered her gaze, putting the cup back into the bucket. “I understand,” she said. “It is terrible that this war should separate and destroy families. It seems that… forgive me. I meant to say that I will pray for your wife and your children’s good health while you are away, even if you are my husband’s enemy.”
Du Reims leaned back against the wall, eyeing the extremely luscious Lady de Wolfe. He was not surprised to see that Atticus de Wolfe had such a beautiful wife; a man of such reputation was worthy of such a woman. But it also occurred to him that, in Lady de Wolfe, he saw the woman who would save his life.
Du Reims was no fool. He knew that Summerlin had returned with the army to lay siege to Wolfe’s Lair. He had expected it, in fact, and up until Lady de Wolfe presented herself, he was resigned to the fact that this would be his last day on earth. He knew that at some point, Atticus would come to the hall and kill him just as he had promised. Du Reims was in no position to really defend himself, as he could not walk, so he had spent the better part of the day attempting to figure out how he could save himself. Now, he knew. He had to do what was necessary in order to exact his freedom and it was unfortunate that Lady de Wolfe was now part of that plan.
“Thank you for your prayers, my lady,” he said. “May… may I have more water before you leave?”
