the lair of the bandit, Merin ap Owen, for I was certain it was he who had stolen the lady. Sim was gone for almost three weeks, but when he returned we knew for certain that it was indeed Merin ap Owen who held the lady captive. Sim had seen her, well guarded, walking on a hillside by the bandit’s castle. It was much too dangerous for Sim to attempt to steal her back, so he returned to tell us what he had seen.'
Ranulf nodded, the red mist was fading slightly, but now there was a fierce, burning anger centered in the middle of his broad chest.
'Soon then, a ransom demand was delivered by one of the Welshmen’s men. Merin ap Owen was aware that you were away. He says he will keep the lady safe until your return. You are then to sell all the cattle and the sheep that you possess to ransom her. When you have the monies, you will make a signal by lighting pitch torches all around the perimeter of the walls. Someone will always be watching, and when the signal is received, Merin ap Owen will come in several days' time to make the exchange with you. We were forced to allow his messenger to return to Wales to say that we understood his wishes, my lord.'
'It was well thought out,' Ranulf said slowly. ' I would not have believed a bandit so clever.'
'He is of noble blood, my lord, but wicked, rumor has it,' Fulk replied. 'I am so sorry, my lord! It is my fault! I should not have let the lady send me to St. Frideswide's!'
Ranulf shook his head. 'Nay, Fulk. You obeyed your mistress as you should have done. Had the girl, Arwydd, not betrayed my wife, none of this would have happened. Even if you had been here, there would have been no help for it. You know how you like your food and drink, my friend. With your appetite, you might still be sleeping. Praise God you were not, and knew what to do afterward.' Ranulf clapped his captain comfortingly on the shoulder.
'What are we to do now, my lord?' Fulk asked him.
'First we will keep Christ’s Mass,' Ranulf said. 'Then I must decide, after speaking with Sim, what our chances are for rescuing my lady wife. The better course might simply be to pay the ransom. I find it interesting that I am instructed to sell all my sheep and cattle in order to ransom my Eleanore. This was well planned, my friends. The Welsh could have stolen my flocks and herds. Instead they stole my wife, for they knew I would get more for my livestock than they would. Aye, this was no spur-of-the-moment decision on the part of Merin ap Owen. It was cleverly conceived and well executed.'
'But if you sell the sheep and cattle, my lord,' Father Oswin said, 'how will the manor survive in the coming year?'
'Merin ap Owen may have set a watch on us,' Ranulf said, 'but that watch will only be near enough to see the signal on our walls, not near enough for us to discover and catch the watcher. Tomorrow is a feast day, but on the day after, we will move the sheep from the far meadows where they now are to the near meadow. While we are doing that, we will cut the ewes from the flocks that are close to lambing. We will hide them in the barnyards, where they are not easily seen. That way we will have the beginnings of a new flock of sheep. The Welsh will be none the wiser, for their interest in us will disappear with the gaining of the ransom. The harvest should have been good enough for us to feed the sheep over the winter months,' Ranulf said.
'There are several cattle with calf,' John the bailiff said, for he, too, was now in the hall.
'We'll keep them, too,' the lord of the manor decided. 'There is a quarter moon tonight. Have the cowherds take them from their pastures and put them in the barns. I will not lose my wife, but neither will I allow this bandit to beggar us, either.'
'Will you kill him, my lord?' Fulk asked.
'Eventually, but first we must regain custody of the lady,' Ranulf said quietly. 'When we do, however, I shall do the king a service by ridding the border of this man and his rabble.'
'Amen!' Father Oswin exclaimed.
'Come to the table, my lord,' old Ida called. 'The meal is here, and you have traveled far. My lady would want you well cared for, I know.'
The elderly woman’s words pleased him, but Ranulf de Glandeville could not help but wonder if his wife was as snug this night in her captivity as he was. Seating himself at the high board, he thought how lonely it was without her.
Elf started in her place by the fire as she wove. She could have sworn she had heard Ranulf’s voice. The wind moaned outside the shutters, and she shivered. It was the eve of Christ’s Mass, but there was nothing different here at Gwynfr Castle: no priest to celebrate the Mass. She had learned from Gwyll that the priests considered Gwynfr, its inhabitants, and its lord cursed and the devil’s own. On the solstice there had been much celebrating and drunkenness. Isleen had brought her whores into the castle to entertain the men.
'You must remain in my apartment,' Merin ap Owen said, 'and not come out lest you be harmed.' Then he had locked Elf inside, pushing the key back beneath the door to her for safekeeping. That way, he had explained to her, no one could take the key off his person when he was drunk. They both knew he meant Isleen. 'When I return here, I will be sober, and I will request the key from you,' he said. Then he had gone.
Below in the hall she heard the shrieks and shouts of the drunken debacle. There was a tray upon the table with food and drink. Elf ate, then sat by the fire sewing. Once or twice she thought she heard footsteps in the passageway outside the apartments, and once the door handle was rattled strongly. Elf sewed on, a poker by her side. She did not expect anyone to be able to break in, but she would be able to defend herself if they did. Eventually the noise below died away, and fully dressed she lay down in her little chamber, the poker next to her pallet.
In the hall Isleen cajoled her lover. 'Let us give her to the men tonight, my lord. I want to see her debauched.'
'I shall give you to the men instead,' he said. He was drunk, he knew, but not without his wits. Isleen might want revenge, but he wanted the ransom she would bring. Besides, if he could not have her, certainly no other man here would. The thought of anyone despoiling her exquisite beauty or breaking her brave spirit angered him. He stood up, dragging Isleen with him. He tore her gown from her, and hauled her up upon the high board, naked for all to see. 'Here, lads, is my own private whore for your pleasure this night, but no other night, for I am a jealous man! Who will be the first to have her right here upon the high board? She'll make you a fine feast!'
'You devil!' Isleen spat at him as the men-at-arms crowded about the high board, leering up at her, their hands pulling her down upon her back so they might fondle her full breasts. They spread her wide, and then Isleen found herself mounted successively by a group of eager men who used her vigorously. She didn't really care. None could arouse her like Merin ap Owen. She responded to please them, and retain her reputation as a passionate woman. Turning her head, she saw Merin ap Owen with a red-haired wench in his lap. The girl was as naked as she was, and riding the lord energetically, her head thrown back, the muscles in her throat straining as she screamed her pleasure.
The night wore down, and eventually all in the hall, filled to capacity with food, drink, and pleasure, lay sprawled in sleep. Merin ap Owen looked about him and, standing up, sought for Isleen. She was asleep beneath the high board, two men sprawled over her. He reached down and pulled her out to her feet.
'Come on, my pretty bitch,' he growled at her. 'You are not done yet; and it would seem my randy cock cannot be truly satisfied until it has visited your hot and wicked sheath.'
Fully aware now, Isleen smiled at him. 'Bastard! I am used raw by your
