Page 63 of Saxon Blade Norman Blood
With a measure of shock, Rowena recognized Leowald, the man who had wanted to confirm William’s loyalty by taking her to bed. She hadn’t noticed him before, as he had been half-hidden behind other men.
Not waiting for her answer, Leowald seized her by the arm and dragged her to the center of the room before she could stop him. Behind her, William growled in protest. She guessed he had tried to come to her aid when she heard a man strike him in retaliation. She did not turn around, fearing that if she saw him injured, she might faint.
Leowald seized her wrist and showed her hand to the other men. “If you do not believe me, look at her Norman ring. It’s obviously payment for her services in bed.”
One of the men to his left laughed. “Payment? It is more likely that the cunning wench stole it, and good on her. Have you ever heard of a Norman wasting such precious jewels on a girl he does not owe anything to? We all know how they treat our women. Why would he reward her when he can use her as he wishes without fear of punishment?”
Murmurs of agreement answered this sally, and Rowena had to acknowledge the truth behind the man’s words. The behavior of the Norman barons toward the local women left much to be desired. This was precisely what William was trying to change, and he was about to die for it. It wasn’t fair.
Well, at least by now, everyone’s attention was well and truly on her.
Cwenhild was glaring in her direction, jealousy evident, and the men’s eyes had lit up in lust. Only one person regarded her with something resembling proper interest, a man with dark eyes, standing in the far corner of the room. So far, he had remained silent, but Rowena could tell by his demeanor he was not as fired up by the prospect of killing a Norman baron as some of the other men were. He seemed to agree with herthat they would have to answer for this, and the fact they had supposedly given him a chance to defend himself wouldn’t make much difference.
He might well take William’s defense if she handled him properly.
“Are you William de la Falaise’s mistress?” he asked, and everyone quietened at once.
Alfred nodded, urging her to say yes. He clearly thought the fact could only come to help their cause, something Rowena had already concluded herself. “I am.”
“Did you go to his bed willingly?” the man continued. “We all know if he wanted to take you there would have been little you could have said in protest.”
“Yes. I went to him willingly,” she said with as much aplomb as she could muster. “Lord William would never have lain a finger on me otherwise. He does not use force on women, Saxon or Norman.”
The man nodded, as if this behavior was unusual enough to be of note. At least he appeared to believe her. “Is it true you are also his interpreter?”
“It is.” This time she had no difficulty in speaking loudly for there was no shame in admitting as much. “I have even started to teach him our tongue, at his demand,” she added for good measure. “He is committed to helping our cause, as you all know.”
“If William de la Falaise chose this woman to translate his dealings with the Saxons and did not force her into his bed, then we should take her testimony seriously. It is no ordinary Norman who considers us as worthy allies and treats our women with such respect.”
“Respect!” Cwenhild scoffed.
“Respect,” the man repeated sternly. “The girl would not be here taking his defense if he had not shown her consideration, for she has little to gain from it.”
He turned to William. Rowena risked a glance at him and saw that he was still bound and on his knees. His eyes, for her only, burned with an incandescent fire. She could not help but take a step toward him. The dark-eyed man grunted, as if their attitude toward each other had proven beyond doubt that they were not feigning intimacy.
“If the man is guilty, then he will be punished,” he stated after a while. “But before we do that, I say we should establish his guilt. I think we should start by going to see Ecberg’s corpse.”
A few men nodded in agreement. Relief washed through Rowena. Clearly the man, whoever he was, held some authority over the others, and he had divided the opinion in the room. Hope began to blossom inside her. Perhaps all was not lost.
She whispered the gist of the man’s words to William. His eyes remained fastened onto her. She had the impression he was more gratified to see her taking his defense than to hear he was finally given a chance to prove his innocence. In this moment, she dearly wanted to drop to her knees and kiss him.
The four men who had gone to see Ecberg’s corpse soon returned, their expression somber.
“Ecberg is not dead,” the dark-haired man declared. “He’s alive, but unconscious. Drugged, it would seem.”
The announcement was received with consternation. The men looked at each other, then at Cwenhild, who blanched.
“You told us he had been stabbed,” the man accused, walking toward her. “But I think we can all agree William de la Falaise cannot be accused of murdering someone who is not dead.” This time the murmur in the room was unequivocally, unanimously with him. “Now, I wonder who drugged him, and why?”
21
With a strangled cry, Cwenhild bolted out the door. All the men save for Alfred ran after her. He looked at Rowena and William in turn, tilting his head in consideration.
“Set him free,” he instructed her before walking to the door. “We will decide on Cwenhild’s fate, but it might be better if you are both gone when we come back.”
While the girl translated, William nodded to the man who had been a fast ally from the start.
“Thank you, Alfred,” he said in his language.
