“Pigs,” she rasped when men-at-arms center of their table boasted of the ease with which the healthy men and women of several villages near Ely were conscripted to construct the causeway.
Certain she believed they spoke of the first causeway, lest further talk reveal a second was being built, Guy determined to distract her. “I am grateful this night it is not me you name a pig, just as they ought to be grateful you have no dagger to hand.”
Her chin came around. “They should, since this night better I might land a blade than that night.”
“I still have that dagger,” he said and saw alarm in her eyes. “Just as I have the one you held to when I pulled you from the water.”
Alarm transformed into confusion, she said, “I was certain I had lost it to the marsh.” Her frown deepened. “Though the second is of some quality, why did you keep the first?”
For answer, he shrugged, though there was more to it. When he learned the one who cast it was Hereward’s cousin, curiosity over the reason she possessed such a crude blade had kept him from tossing it. “More the question is why the cousin of Hereward who surely warrants a worthy blade, kept one so dull, nicked, and rusted.”
She averted her gaze, and now it was she who shrugged. Not because she had no answer, he guessed, because she did not wish to provide one.
Guy would have let her sink into silence had she not once more turned her attention to conversations over the subjugation of her people.
“I am curious, Lady. The night you named me a pig and said I was unworthy of Saxon slop, did you truly mean to put that dagger in me?”
Across a slow exhale, she said, “The injured rebel for whom Hereward risked all was dead by the time my cousin got him on his shoulder. He was a kind man, wanting only to return to his small living.” She slid her gaze to Guy. “That night, very much I wanted to put a blade in an enemy, to prove I could do it and give that Saxon some justice.” She swallowed. “As earlier you pointed out with regard to your wedding, intent is not enough, nor is desire. I knew the blade would not land true, and I knew it was more because I balked at taking another’s life than because I am more accomplished at slinging stones. We had lost six men to Norman blades, and that pitiful throw was all the answer I could give.”
Only six men, Guy mulled, recalling Taillebois had told William his informant reported some of those who made it to the boat were so discouraged they sought to persuade Hereward to yield. For it, their enraged leader had drowned the dissenters. Exaggeration only? Or a lie of which Theta was quite capable?
“Then the others who reached the boat survived despite their own injuries?” he probed.
“They did, though…” She hesitated, then said, “As we were returning to the isle, greatly my cousin was feeling all that had gone wrong.”
Because of Theta who had alerted Ivo to the attack, Guy thought.
“An argument arose, and though we had slipped past the blockade, it was dangerous to speak above a whisper. When the men would not quiet, Hereward lost his temper and knocked several overboard, one of whom drowned. However, he went in after the man and revived him. So only six lost that night, though still it is too many.”
“It seems your cousin has a penchant for tossing his followers in the water.”
She frowned, blinked. “Ah, you refer to the woman thrown from the dock.”
“The day you named me a pig a second time.”
“So I did. As for Theta—that is her name—Hereward had good reason to test her ability to swim.”
Guessing something had caused the rebel leader to suspect she traveled between Ely and the Normans, Guy waited.
“The night before, I was patrolling the western shore, moving fortification to fortification to ensure the defenders remained alert.”
“I have seen you, Lady.”
She startled. “What say you?”
“When my men and I have the night watch and no mist obscures our view of Ely, we have seen the one we call The Torch Bearer who we guessed roused men lax in their duties.”
A huff of laughter escaped. “That is more kind than whatever they call me,” she said, then continued, “When I stopped to rest before starting back, I heard someone come out of the water. I did not show myself, but I saw it was Theta and reported it to my cousin. The next day, I testified to what I saw, and she claimed she was only bathing following a tryst and could do no more since she is unable to swim. When my cousin determined to test that, she set herself at me.”
Then Theta had dealt the bruised nose and reddened ear he had a noted when Alvilda sought to save the woman her testimony caused to be tossed in—a woman who needed no saving and deserved to be punished for betrayal of her people.
Again, Guy was tempted to warn the lady about her—to confirm Theta passed information to Taillebois—but it would benefit her none.
“A noose is too good for that outlaw!” cried someone at the table ahead and to the left. “Take his hands and feet, last his eyes.”
His voice was but one among many in the hall, but one of those who attended to it was the lady who tensed over what was spoken by a Norman who surely knew she was within hearing distance—as did Guy who imagined his knuckles bruising flesh and cracking bone.
“And do not stop there, I say! For every Norman murdered a sennight past, a dozen rebels.” There was murmured agreement, and Guy hoped that the end of it, but he added, “And from their women we shall take
