wood, or whalebone.’
William took it reverently. His small fist closed around the leather-bound grip and he held it up to the light so that the iron gleamed bluishly. Inlaid along the blade in latten was the Latin inscription
‘With a proper blunt blade,’ Heulwen added. ‘You do enough damage with the plain wooden one you’ve got now!’
Adam chuckled. ‘I can imagine!’ Gently, with more than a hint of poignant understanding, he took the sword back from the child, slotted it home, tousled the tumbled black curls, and continued with Heulwen into the keep.
She sent a servant to fetch hot wine and offered him a chair on the dais set close to a brazier. He unfastened his cloak and draped it across the trestle; unlatching his scabbard, he placed it on top.
‘Do you want to unarm?’ Heulwen indicated his hauberk as he stretched out his legs to the warmth.
He shook his head. ‘Thank you, but no, it’s only a passing visit, I won’t keep you long.’
Heulwen looked down, wanting to apologise for the way their last encounter had ended but unsure that a reconciliation was in her own best interests. White-hot physical attraction frightened her. She had sat at its blaze before, watched it go out, and shivered over the ashes.
The servant brought the wine and a dish of the cinnamon apple pasties, and returned to his duties. Across the hall at another trestle, Adam’s men sat around a basket of loaves, bowls of salted curd-cheese, and flagons of cider. Watching them Adam said, ‘I’ve returned Ralf ’s stallions so you can decide whether you want to sell them at Windsor.’
Heulwen poured wine for them both, keeping her eyes on her task. ‘What are they worth? Have you had time to find out?’
‘The bay is almost fully trained and sufficiently well bred to fetch you around forty marks,’ he said, his tone brisk and professional. ‘The piebald’s not of the same calibre, but because of his markings you should get around twenty for him. If I continue to school him over the winter, he could fetch a top price of twenty-five.’
‘And Vaillantif?’ she matched his tone.
‘That’s really why I came.’ He transferred his gaze from contemplation of his men and fixed it on her instead. ‘I want to buy him from you, Heulwen. I’ll give you a hundred marks.’
She forgot her circumspection and stared at him in astonishment. ‘How much?’ she gasped
‘It is what he is worth.’ His eyes were bright and intense as he leaned forward in the chair.
‘Adam, no, I cannot accept such a sum from you!’
‘But you would accept it from a complete stranger at Windsor,’ he pointed out.
‘I wouldn’t feel guilty about taking a stranger’s coin.’
He set his jaw. ‘Heulwen, I’m asking you as a boon — as a favour to me. Let me have him. You’ve slapped me in the face once. In Christ’s name, leave me some small shred of pride. Do you know what it cost me to come here today?’
She opened her mouth to speak, changed her mind and drank her wine instead. ‘Yes, I do know,’ she said after a swallow. ‘The same that it cost me to come down from the bower to face you.’
Adam considered her across his own cup and eventually he smiled. ‘
‘
‘And if Warrin thinks that you have undersold a part of his future property?’ he asked with an edge to his voice.
‘Then Warrin can go whistle. I’m not. ’ Her voice trailed off and she put her hand to her mouth.
‘What’s wr—’ Adam followed her gaze down the hall and saw, as if conjured from thought, Warrin de Mortimer advancing towards them in the all too solid flesh, his cloak bannering behind him with the vigour of his stride and his brows slanted down in a black scowl.
‘Adam, I will kill you myself if you start anything,’ Heulwen hissed from the side of her mouth, as she rose and prepared to greet her husband designate.
‘Me?’ he said sarcastically. ‘Why should I want to start anything? Do you think I want to be on your conscience for the rest of your life?’
Heulwen stumbled and Adam had to lunge and grab her elbow before she fell headlong down the dais steps. At their foot, Warrin de Mortimer regarded Adam with a mingling of irritation and strong dislike. Heulwen freed herself from Adam’s grasp and went to take Warrin’s cloak with a smile of greeting. As she reached for the fastening pin, he circled her waist with his hands and stooped to claim her lips. The kiss did not linger, but it signalled possession.
‘Home and unscathed from your jaunt with the Empress, I see,’ he said to Adam.
‘So it would seem.’ Adam leaned across the table for his scabbard, and without haste began to belt it on.
De Mortimer gave him a look of contemptuous amusement, as though he were watching a truculent child over whom he had a clear and confident advantage. ‘You know,’ he mused, ‘it doesn’t seem a moment since we were sparring in that tilt yard out there.’ He grinned nastily. ‘I hear you have learned from the drubbings I gave you.’
‘A great deal more than you, Warrin,’ Adam answered evenly, and turned to Heulwen as if the other man did not exist. ‘The money is in my saddlebags. I’ll have Austin bring it to you. What about the piebald?’
‘I–I don’t know,’ she stammered, floundering in the currents of hostility swirling between the two men. ‘I will have to think about it.’
Adam sent a jaundiced glance in de Mortimer’s direction. ‘I’ll leave him, then. If I’m any judge of character, you’ll not be selling him at Windsor either. As to the other matter, leave it in my hands. If I hear anything, I’ll let you know.’
She nodded and raised her chin. ‘Thank you, Adam.’
‘Think nothing of it.’ His mouth was wry as he swept on his cloak and, leaving his wine, brushed past her and de Mortimer to summon his men.
‘Aren’t you going to congratulate us?’ needled de Mortimer. ‘I’ll almost be your brother-by-marriage, won’t I?’
Adam did not turn round, and he had to swallow his gorge to answer. ‘Congratulations,’ he said stiffly, and strode down the hall, away from the temptation to do something utterly stupid.
Once outside in the cold, clean air of the bailey he let go, crashing his fist into the solid forebuilding wall in lieu of Warrin de Mortimer’s handsome, contemptuous face. His skin peeled away from his knuckles in small grated strips. He looked at the thin welling of blood and welcomed the pain that blotted out thought.
‘He affects me like that too,’ Renard said strolling down the stairs to join him. ‘He’s so damned patronising — he treats me as if I were no older than William.’
‘You act that way sometimes.’
‘Are you going back to Thornford now?’
Adam examined his raw, bunched knuckles, the price of holding on to control for too long, then shot a dark glance at Renard. ‘Why?’
‘Oh, no reason.’ Renard shrugged. ‘I thought I’d ride with you. Starlight needs the exercise and I’d rather not stay here while Warrin crows and struts before Heulwen like a dunghill cock longing to tread a hen. Did you see all the rings he had on his fingers?’
Adam looked at his ally and found a brief smile. ‘He was somewhat over-endowed.’
‘He’s wearing spikenard too. I could smell it on him a mile away!’ Renard wrinkled his nose. ‘There’s not going to be much room for Heulwen in his heart. He’s madly in love with himself!’
Without comment, Adam went to Vaillantif and unlatched a saddlebag. Withdrawing a leather money pouch, he handed it to his squire. ‘Go within, Austin, and deliver it to Lady Heulwen. Tell her that the other twenty are her
