By Right of Arms by Robyn Carr Read Free Book Online

earned. The residents of De la Noye would consider him ruthless. That was his deliberate plan.
    He called for cold ale and spoke with Sir Girvin, his closest vassal. “Thormond is finished,” he said sourly.
    “It should have been done long ago. It is a necessary example,” Girvin grunted.
    “A costly one,” Hyatt said. “My hard-earned monies bought his sword and ax and horse. I could not teach him to follow, and now he shall never lead.”
    “You kept the destrier and weapons, did you not?”
    “I would rather have a good soldier,” Hyatt grumbled.
    Girvin seemed to sense his friend’s melancholy. “Does this promised castle prove too much trouble?” he asked, smiling.
    “It does not bode of great plenty,” Hyatt said, adding a curse under his breath.
    Girvin began to laugh. He had been with Hyatt for many years, and the younger man often became surly when faced with a lord’s responsibility. In truth, De la Noye was his greatest conquest thus far and Hyatt had no cause for any such coltish pouting. “Who will carry this poor lad’s burdens?” he asked the men standing about.
    Offers went up around the hall and within a moment there was jesting and toasting, the very thing Hyatt had hoped for to ease his distaste. He was laughing over a good retort when he noticed the slim, darkly clad figure cautiously and quietly enter the hall. He thought she must pass this way to gain her chamber, but not knowing the keep well, he was not certain where he might cross her path next. Perrine stayed close behind her, the attendant’s face still white with disbelief. He held a cup of cool ale in his hand and hoped he appeared untroubled by the fact that he had just maimed a man.
    Aurélie met his eyes. He smiled and made his way to where she stood.
    “My lady,” he said, his voice even and smooth.
    She lifted her chin but could find no words.
    “I trust the departed are blessed and resting?” he asked. She nodded, looking up at him. “Good,” he said. “We could not look to the morrow for fruitful harvest until yesterday’s tragedy is past. I expect each soul yearns for only good to befall the fair De la Noye now.”
    He tried to speak as though those buried were but losers of a joust and that, as in all good sporting, he held no grudge. Women knew little of war—they sent their men away to fight and either welcomed home victors or buried the dead. Hyatt wished her to know that he held no contempt for those slain. Indeed, he had respect for those who fought valiantly. As long as kings argued, knights fought. His eyes remained softened toward her. War was work, a matter of necessary action, not meant to be enjoyed nor to destroy all that might be left.
    She shook her head numbly, showing great confusion. “I … I could not help but see … in the courtyard …”
    “I am sorry you must witness such, madame. A lord’s chore is often ugly.”
    “I think, Sir Hyatt, that it must be a terrible demon who drives you,” she said softly, searching his eyes.
    It was as before, when he looked at her face. There was a catch in his breast and he felt a strange tugging. He was taken by more than her comeliness. From inside he could feel the urge to cradle her in his arms and drive away fear and pain she might have. But he reminded himself that her delicate appearance was not a true indication of her strength. She had stood through the cursed event as well as he, and did not weaken.
    “Perhaps, madame, all that is different about me is that I am free from demons.”
    “Nay,” she replied. “A fearful devil, surely … and one we shall all know quite well.”
    Hyatt let his eyes bore deeply into hers for a moment and then slowly he let his gaze drop, giving her body a long, leisurely appraisal. He wanted to touch her, but did not. In time, he promised himself, he might let her see beyond his ambition and calloused determination. And he would look beyond her pride and strength. He began to taste a tender moment, but