Lady Knight Page 10

  "It's Roland and Geoffrey I'm worried about."

  Alan laughed aloud. "Come on, then," he said. "Let's go and protect the rest of the world from your man."

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  Matilda waited. Her horse stood still as rock, ears pricked, eager for the signal. She had marked her opponent, right across the field, bearing familiar colours in insouciance. He'd know he'd been in a fight before this day was over.

  She held a good spot, and well supported too: Guillaume on her left, Alan on her right, with Geoffrey and Roland flanking. Each of them ready, sharp and keen.

  Together they'd bring down any fool who dared come out of retirement to celebrate at his sister's wedding tourney.

  For the first time in her life she felt a sting of pity for her elder brother.

  He had absolutely no idea what was about to hit him.

  ***

  About the Author:

  Maria Ling lives on the edge of a moor in Yorkshire, England, surrounded by ruined abbeys and haunted caves. Visit her Smashwords author page for more stories.

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  Also by this author:

  Cloistered Bride

  by Maria Ling

  "You might want to fetch your cloak out." Richard pulled his hood up to shadow his face. "It's going to rain."

  So it did, a torrent that lashed down and soaked through her pretty cloak, soaked the boards and streamed up under her skirt. She was drenched long before it passed, sat hunched and miserable as the rain poured over her and obliterated all vision.

  "Sorry about this," Richard said. "I would have been happy to wait until I could convey you better."

  As if he wasn't a man, free to dispose of himself as he chose. He should try being a woman, a mere chattel to be passed from one man's care to another, without regard for her wishes or feelings or needs.

  "I am content," Clarice said, because she could win nothing by grumbling, and God would have His own way. He was a man too, after all.

  "Are you?" Richard replied. "Bloody hell. I wouldn't be."

  Clarice stifled a laugh, and then was shocked that she found such a remark amusing. "A true Christian is always content with God's will."

  "Right," her husband said. "Of course." And then added, so quietly that she guessed he thought she couldn't hear: "Christ. I married a nun."

  When convent-educated heiress Clarice is married off to an impoverished knight, she is certain he only wants her for her money. But Richard desires her body, and with him Clarice discovers a passion she never knew she possessed. Medieval romance novel set in twelfth-century England.

  Available now from Smashwords or your preferred ebook retailer.

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  Also by this author:

  Knight for a Husband

  by Maria Ling

  "Come, lady Rowes," Hugh said. "Give yourself and your son into my care."

  So much for that hope. "I can't," she said. But her eyes strayed to the corpses on the ground. So quick it had been, one moment alive and the next one dead. She'd expected screams and suffering. The sudden change shocked her. And the thought that Will -- her fingers clenched on him again. He writhed in her grip.

  "Last chance," Hugh said. He looked stern now, a tall slouching man clad in leather, with a grim set of his jaw. "I mean what I say. You and the boy I will have, by force if necessary. Come now, come willingly, and I give you my word that you won't be harmed."

  "I don't believe you." Mary raised her chin. She would end this now, so quick it might be. "The only reason you'd want us is to use us against my lord."

  "Of course," Hugh said. "But there are ways and ways. Besides, it may not prove necessary. I think we've won the day. But you will come into my care, and I will serve you up to the king, and he'll be glad of that, I think. A pretty woman to dangle at one of his loyal men, along with title and lands."

  Mary caught her breath. "You'd never."

  "Oh, not for myself." He gave a negligent shrug. "Someone far higher in his favour than me, I should think. But you'll be a fair prize, and the boy a surety for your good behaviour. It's the way these things are done." He straightened abruptly and strode towards her. "Now, if you please."

  Mary swung around, with Will bodily in front of her. But it was too late, she was surrounded. Men on all sides now, lazy and confident.

  "Come." Hugh's hands closed on her arms. She shook him off, or tried to, but his grip tightened so hard she yelped. "No more trouble. It won't be the first time I've whipped a woman. Or a child either."

  "Don't you dare." She fought against him, he was strong as rock. "If you touch my boy -- "

  "Then do as I bid you, for the last time."

  She slumped in his arms. She'd lost before ever he spoke to her, and she knew it. "Provided I have your word." For what good that would do, she had no reason to trust him, no reason to think he stood high in favour with the king. From his own words, rather the reverse. His guarantee was a weak and feeble thing, she dared not place her faith in it. But she was caught, she and Will both, and if her obedience secured Will's good treatment, that would be enough.

  "You do." His grip eased, enough that the pain dripped from her arms. He pulled her towards him, not too hard, more encouragement than command. She yielded to it, let him lead her away, shushed Will when he complained.

  "A fair catch," Hugh said as he led them back onto the charred ground, and circled around to the rear of the force. "I wish all my hunts were as speedy and successful as this."

  Forced to marry brutal warlord Hugh de Vion, widow Mary of Rowes thinks only of survival. But when Hugh's overlord John de Bois demands her young son as hostage, she must trust her husband to protect them both - if she pays his price. Medieval romance novel set in England during the Angevin wars.

  Available now from Smashwords or your preferred ebook retailer.

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  Also by this author:

  The Norman's Captive

  by Maria Ling

  The Norman held out his palms to her, empty. Then unstrapped his belt and placed it very carefully on the table, sword and knife and all. Held out his palms again.

  Well, she hadn't imagined he was taking her here for a knife-fight. And he was unarmed now, she could -- no, she couldn't strike at him, that was a ridiculous idea, he wore a mailcoat that covered his chest and arms and reached to his knees. If he were asleep she might get close enough to stab him in the eye, but he wouldn't sleep for a while yet, no, she understood that well enough. He spoke again now, in that hated Norman tongue, it made her want to spit. But his tone was mild and low, not curt as it had been with the men, she could almost believe he was pleading rather than commanding. Which was absurd, of course, he could order her as he liked and force her to comply, no one would defend her.

  He mimicked the sheathing of a knife. Oh yes, that would suit his purpose well. Anger flared up within her, dissolving the worst of the fear.

  When a Norman knight captures her as she flees her abusive home, Saxon peasant girl Leofe knows exactly what she faces. But Roland proves to be unlike any man she's ever met - and since her survival depends on pleasing him, she resolves to do so fast. Medieval romance novel set in twelfth-century England.

  Available now from Smashwords or your preferred ebook retailer.

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