“The sturdy virgin widow is Hereward’s cousin,” Ivo said, “and as much a bane to me as to Theta.”
“Study virgin widow?” William questioned what the others here surely pondered. “And what bane is she to you?”
“Theta tells the man made to wed Alvilda refused to touch her. As for her troubling me, though I wish my pretty eel in Hereward’s bed to learn what is most easily spilled when a man is in the power of a desirable woman, Alvilda whom her cousin calls Vilda, distrusts and thwarts Theta.”
“And yet she went in after the traitor,” Maxen mused.
“That is curious,” Ivo said. “Were she not given to riding astride like a man and quick to toss off her gown like a joy woman, I might think her a nun come to Ely to ensure Hereward remains faithful to his wife. I wonder—is she plain as Theta told? Certes, she is not round as also I was told.”
She was not, Guy silently agreed as he watched Alvilda draw near Theta who slipped under again. From what he had seen that night and this day glimpsed through a thin chemise, Hereward’s cousin was not voluptuous like the cunning one nor prettily formed like Elan, but she had womanly curves. Now as she slowed and her chin came out of the water, he could see her features somewhat better.
Other than large, heavily lashed eyes swept over the enemy as if to ensure they did not advance on her, she did appear plain and perhaps a few years beyond twenty. Was her nose bruised? Certes, one of her ears was reddened.
“Oui, no beauty,” Ivo confirmed.
“Regardless, much courage,” Maxen said low, “though quite the pity she does not know it is wasted on one who betrays her own people.”
As they watched, she circled Theta who had once more surfaced to further her performance, and Guy knew Alvilda sought to take hold of her from behind to prevent herself from being dragged under.
Unfortunately, she could not know there was little chance of drowning—at least of both women. It was possible Alvilda would be intentionally held under, Theta risking arrows being loosed on her when she proved capable of swimming for the boats.
The temptation to call out a warning to Hereward’s cousin was great, and more Guy longed to do so when her eyes returned to the king’s boat and appeared to pause on him where Maxen and he stood with shields held low the same as the king.
Did she suspect she looked on the Norman who, to preserve the life of a squire, had foregone the opportunity to fight Hereward? That here was the one at whom she threw a blade that fell short of its target—a dagger one of his men come late to the encounter had scorned when he saw the tarnished, heavily-nicked weapon?
Guy had retrieved it, though not because it could have been the death of him. He had looked near upon it and confirmed the only thing of interest was that the one who sought to stick it in flesh not covered in mail was a muddied Saxon rebel. Likely, even when first it was forged, it was for a commoner who had not properly cared for it.
The moment Alvilda hooked an arm around Theta from behind, Ivo’s lover screeched, flailed, and swept her arms over her head to slap at her savior.
“Enough!” Hereward’s cousin commanded, struggling to keep her own head above water. “I would but aid you!”
Had Guy any doubt this was the woman who disparaged him that night, no longer. At the time he had thought her recovering from a malady of the throat, but as her voice sounded the same now, hers was one of a husky register some women, including Theta, affected to sound sensual.
Another screech, another shout of, “Enough!” And both women sank.
Guy tensed, as did Maxen who surely struggled the same as his friend against the impulse to aid Alvilda whom Theta might be dragging deeper. And a glance at the shore proved Hereward had lost his own struggle. Despite the danger of drawing near Normans, he was off his horse and springing onto the dock.
“Ha!” Ivo barked. “My pretty eel enlarges the target of the outlaw.”
So she did until the big man who had flung her into the river put hands on his leader. It appeared they would come to blows, but hardly had one woman surfaced than several rebels shouted the name of Hereward’s cousin, causing the outlaw to still.
It was her, treading water and turning all around, then she dived. When she came up, it was with a weakly coughing, seemingly half-conscious Theta—seemingly because Alvilda behind could not see the smile the traitor shone on the Normans, nor the pop of eyebrows when she moved her regard beyond Taillebois and the king.
She recognized Guy and Maxen. Though likely she knew Guy was in the Fens for the elite force he commanded, it must surprise to find her former lord here as well. However, rather than avert, she broadened her smile.
As her savior adjusted her hold and spoke words likely meant to reassure, Ivo called across the distance, “She did not float. Does this mean your fellow Saxon is not a witch, Alvilda?”
The one he named startled.
“Aye, I know you are Hereward’s cousin, and now you know the face of he who will drag you off that isle by your hair and give you to his men.”
Guy’s teeth ached for how hard he bit down to keep from rebuking him. More, his fists hurt. It was no mere threat, and further Guy disliked William for speaking no word against Taillebois.
Continuing to support Theta who coughed and groaned, Alvilda called, “As your body is at odds with the bloat of your face and, I wager…” She replenished her
