This time when his breathing slowed, he rolled off of her, onto his back, and pulled her against his side. Alisa for her part, just let him position her head on his shoulder, and her hand on his chest, under his hand. Her shocked mind, seemed to be incapable of focusing on anything.
Chapter 7
Robert dismounted from his destry, in front of the stairs to the hall, in answer to the summons from Richard, and Isabel. He had made a bargain with them, for what he desired most in the world, in exchange for helping them take his oldest friend captive. That had been over two months ago. Brant was still being held here, in the dungeon. Robert hoped he could trust them, he certainly could not risk crossing them. When he had been here before, there always seemed to be riders coming, and going, with messages that verified, that they had spies everywhere. Robert observed two such riders approaching the open gate, and wondered what news they brought, as he turned to enter the hall.
Inside, Robert could see Richard was near the hearth, with a tankard, so he joined him there. A serf brought him a tankard as he sat down.
Richard offered the greeting, “Good afternoon, Robert. I trust you and Kate have been well, these past few weeks.”
“Aye, Kate makes me very happy. She asked that I convey her regards,” Robert answered.
He noticed that Isabel sat in a high-backed chair across from Richard. She was as always, wearing a mantle wrapped around her shoulders, and over her head. While her eyes, mouth, and clear skin, left him thinking she was likely pretty, he questioned if the ever present mantle, covered some terrible defect. He had seen her on at least a dozen occasions, yet, he did not even know what color her hair was. Though, the Lady certainly possessed an extremely shapely figure.
The messengers entered, and approached them to report that Lady Ann was settling in nicely at her dower property. The child was doing somewhat better, but was still suffering occasional nightmares. Ann was staying close, to reassure her she was safe, and all was well. Robert knew that Lady Ann was Isabel’s mother, but he wondered about this nameless child, they frequently mentioned.
Isabel thanked the men for the news. Then she directed them to the kitchen, for a meal and tankard.
Once they had gone, she said, “Now that that is settled, all that remains is the really difficult business.” Both men looked at her quizzically, until she continued, “Releasing my husband from his jail. I know knights practice frequently, to keep their skills sharp. It would be dangerous to just turn him loose, without being sure, he can defend himself.”
“If we are to turn him loose, and I suppose we must, where are we to hide you from him?” Richard questioned. “This was all started in large part, to keep Avery from killing you. Now your biggest threat, may just be your husband.”
“I will be staying here. He will not kill me,” Isabel stated.
Both men looked at each other dubiously, before Richard argued, “Unless you know something I do not, I think your safety is of grave concern. He is going to be furious.”
“I did not say he was not going to be angry. I said he would not kill me,” Isabel replied. “When he learns the whole truth, he is going to be as mad as a wild boar. I may wish, he would just kill me. Only time will tell, if he will forgive me.”
"What do you mean by, the whole truth?" Richard asked.
"Nothing you need concern yourself with," Isabel answered, waving the matter off.
Once again, Isabel's hand was massaging her temple, as if she were under some great stress. As the two men’s eyes met, Robert was certain that she, once again, had information that neither one of them was aware of. That information, would bolster her to stay, and face her husband’s wrath. Robert had always considered his friend, Brant, the most dangerous person he knew. However, now he found himself wondering, if Brant was up to the challenge, of this small mysterious woman, he had been forced to wed.
Brant sat drinking a tankard of ale, wondering how long he had been locked up, in this wretched cell. It had been many weeks, probably months, during which he had watched for any chance, to attempt an escape. His jailors always made sure he was securely locked in, never letting their guard down, for a moment. So he had only brief conversations daily with the guard, or serfs. Every few days, the old woman had brought the serf Alisa to him, usually for a few hours, occasionally much longer. That was the only thing, that seemed to be keeping him from going mad. Brant never seemed to get tired of her shapely little body. He smiled, as he thought about how receptive she had been to his instruction, in ways to drive a man crazy with desire. If he ever got out of here, he thought he would like to take her with him. Or maybe he just felt that way, because she was the only woman he had access to, in here. No, that was not true. Once, the old woman had asked if he would like a different girl, but he knew he did not.
On his properties, he had a right to bed any unmarried maid he desired, as the Lord’s due. Yet, he could not recall another maid, who had ever been quite as entertaining, as Alisa. Although, beyond her name and every inch of her body, Brant knew next to nothing about the girl.
Glancing around his prison, Brant thought again, about the elaborate way his incarceration was set up. He had two good size rooms here. In the dungeon at his Castle, there were six very small cells. Prisoners were given one meal a day, and rarely allowed any water to wash with, or clean clothes. No wine or women were allowed in. His captors, supplied him with food fit for the Lord's table, wine and ale, baths and clean clothing, and of course Alisa. While they had made sure he was not going anywhere, they also made sure he was not suffering. Brant kept reminding himself of this, as proof that he would be released, at some time.
Brant's musings where interrupted when Robert entered, caring two tankards, one of which he passed through into the cell.
"Good afternoon, mon ami," Robert greeted. "I trust you are managing. Have a drink with me, to celebrate my wedding. I am sorry you could not be there."
"You got married?" Brant asked.
"Aye, three weeks ago, Lady Katherine and I, were wed. I have also been busy getting acquainted with my newly acquired Castle, and lands, formerly Avery's Castle, and Kate's dower lands," Robert informed his friend. "I was truly a desperate man a couple of months ago, with it likely, the Lady would be betrothed to someone else. You cannot know, what a huge relief it was, when Richard approached me, with an opportunity to gain his consent, to wed his daughter."
"Richard is Katherine's father? So I end up in a cell, and you get the Lady?" Brant asked.
He picked up the tankard, and took a big draught, glaring at his friend.
"Aye, but only a little longer," Robert confirmed. "Your hosts have decried, that after two months of lazing around, you are likely a little rusty. Therefore, you need to be let out in the courtyard, for some jousting practice. Although, they also have made sure, there are no weapons sharp enough for you to hurt anyone, trying to exit early."
As Robert was speaking, a serf, and Brant's squire entered, carrying a shield and armor, that Brant recognized as his own. He was relieved, to see that the youth had not been injured.
After demanding assurances that Brant would not attempt to escape, he was let out of his cell, for the first time since his wedding night. His squire assisted him in donning his armor, which he noted, seemed heavier than he remembered. Outside of the building, was a courtyard, of maybe thirty by thirty feet, surrounded by a high stone wall, with a wooden gate. There were also six very large men, several of whom he recognized from his wedding night. Brant was first allowed to practice with his squire, who apparently had not had much exercise recently, either, and tired in a very short time. Then the knight Justin stepped in, to trade parry’s with the practice swords. Brant observed that he was quite good with a sword, probably better than Brant had ever been. With the heavy blows, from Justin’s sword, it was not long, before Brant realized his forced inactivity had seriously weakened him. He put down the sword, and walked to a bench to sit down.