‘It’s too quiet, Nell,’ he said, eyes on the flames.
‘But you just said below—’
‘No, not up here. I’m talking about the war. Stephen, Mathilda and Ranulf de Gernons. No matter what Chester is given, he still wants more, and when one side has nothing else to give, he’ll turn to the other.’
Hugh had fallen asleep at her breast. Carefully she lifted him away and went to put him down in his cradle, then turned again to Renard. She had not bothered to hook up her bodice and she saw him eyeing her cleavage. ‘You think he will really leave Stephen?’ she asked, not because at that moment she really cared, but because she felt too awkward to just boldly walk up to him and sit down on his knee. Absence of such contact had increased the shyness as well as the longing. It was not a familiar action any more.
‘Undoubtedly. He has no reason to stay, has he? Hands smacked off Carlisle again, and Lincoln denied too, not to mention Caermoel.’ His laugh was brittle.
‘Do you wish you’d stayed in Antioch?’ She was closer to him now. Tentatively she laid her hand on his shoulder. The side of her hand grazed his throat and she felt the sudden leap of his pulse.
‘Sometimes,’ he sighed. ‘But there it is an even more fractured mosaic of power-hungry warlords. I suppose I was always too low in the hierarchy to be much affected.’ Slanting one arm around her waist and hip he did what she had hoped he would do and pulled her down into his lap. Then he kissed her and all conversation stopped.
They had reached the bed and a state of breathless, urgent half-undress when Owain cleared his throat raucously on the other side of the curtain and announced that Lord Henry had arrived and that he wanted an immedi ate word with Renard.
Renard closed his eyes and pressed his lips into the silky hollow of Elene’s shoulder. ‘Judgement on me,’ he groaned, levering himself up. ‘All right, Owain, tell him to come up.’
‘Yes, my lord.’
Renard sat up on the edge of the bed and fumbled his tunic back on with unsteady hands. He looked round at Elene, at the rapid rise and fall of her dark-tipped breasts and the loose hair spread abroad. ‘Wishes have a fickle habit of exploding in your face, even while they’re being granted,’ he said wryly. ‘Best cover yourself, love, unless you want to start a fight.’
Still dazed by the passion of a moment since, Elene was acutely aware of the soft furs against her shoulder blades, of the heaviness of her loins, of Renard’s eyes and the mingling of staunched need, exasperation and reluctant humour in his expression. Breathing out hard, he left the temptation of the bed and walking to the window slit stood in the draught from an ill-fitting shutter.
Elene dragged her skirts decently down, shrugged her gown back on to her shoulders, and with fumbling hands, fastened the neck of her gown and hooked up the bodice. Her hair she could do nothing about except grab a comb, tidy it quickly and place a circlet on top to hold it away from her face.
Owain drew the curtain aside and Henry strode into the room. Rain sparkled on his cloak. Eyebrows and moustache were frosted with it and his eyes were the colour of a rainswept riverbank. He had regained some of the flesh he had lost during his convalescence, but his bones were harder now, stripped of malleable youth.
‘I thought you had decided not to come,’ Renard said.
Henry went to the hearth and threw off his cloak, revealing a padded tunic of the kind worn under a hauberk. He flexed his good shoulder. ‘I would have been here sooner, but I had business with an armourer in Shrewsbury and while there I heard some disturbing news … Elene.’ He spoke her name in a stiff greeting, averting his eyes, and advanced on the cradle to regard his new nephew. ‘I’ve brought him a christening gift. Over there by the wall in the oiled cloth.’ Stooping over the baby, he made the usual adult gesture of putting his finger in the baby’s fist. Even in sleep the fingers curled and gripped. Henry’s expression became less tense and he managed a smile.
‘Strong,’ he said, which was also an inevitable part of dutiful adult admiration.
Renard drew aside the covering from Henry’s christening gift and looked at the shield leaning there. A black leopard rampaged across a golden background in direct imitation of Renard’s own shield, but it was only half the size, suited to a child who one day, far too soon for his mother, would leave the safety of maternal skirts to learn the warfare skills, his life depending on how well he learned and how well he was taught.
Elene could see that Renard was both surprised and touched by the gift and the thought behind it. Men watched their sons’ development with more pride than fear. Indeed, it was the custom in every warrior household that a child’s first solid food should be taken from the tip of his father’s sword so that he developed a taste for the steel. She managed to smile, however, and thanked Henry warmly.
Henry’s mouth twisted. ‘My nieces and nephews are the nearest I’ll ever come to children of my own. I …’ He swallowed and looked very quickly at her and away again. ‘I have no wish to marry and I’m no great catch except to fat merchants’ daughters who are hoping to add a title to their wealth. No, one day this little fellow will inherit Oxley, or I hope he will.’ He cleared his throat.
Renard glanced up from admiring the craftmanship of the small shield. ‘You mentioned news from Shrewsbury?’ he said.
‘The sheriff ’s mustering a force. Ranulf de Gernons has finally turned rebel and seized Lincoln castle from the King’s custody.’
‘What?’ Renard’s gaze sharpened. ‘When?’
‘First day of the Christmas feast. Ranulf and Roumare sent their wives into Lincoln castle to talk with the constable’s lady and to pass the time of day and courtesies. When the time drew nigh for the women to leave, Chester and his brother wandered into the keep with a small escort as if to fetch them away, but rounded on the garrison instead and held the castle until their reinforcements hastened from their hiding places. The whole of Lincoln’s in an uproar. The citizens have sent to the King for help, and the call to arms has gone out. Likely you’ll have it by official messenger very soon.’ There was a certain satisfaction in Henry’s tone because for once he had the advantage over his brother.
Renard gave Elene an eloquent look. ‘I said it was too peaceful, didn’t I?’
Elene nodded woodenly. Her throat was too tight to speak. Renard was going to war again. It had not been peaceful at all, just the calm before the violence of a storm.
‘I suppose,’ said Renard with a sigh, ‘that I’ve had a year’s grace for Caermoel. If it doesn’t withstand war now then I might as well break my sword over my knee.’
‘I’m sorry to be the bringer of bad tidings.’ Henry looked between his brother and Elene.
‘No.’ Renard moved to clasp him on his good shoulder. ‘I’m glad to see you, truly glad. How’s the arm?’
Henry raised the limb and flexed his fingers. The movement was sluggish because he was still cold and numb from his ride, but at least he had feeling and a reasonable degree of control. ‘I manage,’ he said with a bleak smile. ‘As ever, not well, but I manage.’
Chapter 21
