Walter jerked away from him. “You go too far. Be careful you don’t find yourself in the cellar with Lord Gavin.” Stormily, he left the old tower, kicking sawdust-dry rushes out of his way. Arthur’s word of caution had penetrated his brain, and now he ran up the narrow stone stairs to the top of the wall in order to be sure it was indeed the Lady Judith who waited below.
There was no mistaking her. The auburn hair that flowed down her back was not to be confused with anyone else’s. “It is she,” he whispered excitedly, then seemingly flew down the stairs, across the bailey to the front gate.
“Open it, man!” he bellowed to the gatekeeper. “And be quick about it!” The heavy iron-tipped portcullis was drawn upward slowly, Walter waiting impatiently.
“My lord,” Arthur said at his side. “You can’t let her bring her men inside. Th
ere are over a hundred of them. We could be attacked from within.”
Walter turned his eyes away from the gate that creaked in protest as it rose. He knew Arthur was right, yet he wasn’t sure what else to do.
Arthur fixed the weak blue eyes with his own dark ones. “I will ride out to meet her. You can’t be risked. I will ride no farther than the range of the crossbowmen. When I’m sure it is the Lady Judith, my men and I will escort her through the gate.”
“Alone?” Walter asked eagerly.
“She may have a personal guard if she so insists, but none other. We cannot allow her whole garrison to enter,” he repeated.
The portcullis was up, the drawbridge down as Arthur mounted his horse and rode out, followed by five other knights.
Judith sat very still on her mount as she watched the raising of the gate. It took every ounce of her courage not to turn away. The old castle might be crumbling in places, but it looked very formidable when she was so close to it. She felt as if it was about to swallow her.
“There is time yet to leave, my lady,” John Bassett observed as he leaned forward.
Six men were riding toward her, and she very much wanted to turn away. Then her stomach turned over and she had to swallow a sudden attack of nausea. Her child was reminding her of its presence. The baby’s father and grandmother were inside those old walls and, if she could, she was going to get them out.
“No,” she said to John with more strength than she actually felt. “I must attempt the task.”
When the leader of the approaching men was close to Judith, she knew at once that he was the instigator of the whole plot. She remembered Walter as mild and meek but this man’s mocking dark eyes showed no weakness. His clothes flashed with jewels; every color, every variety and size. His dark hair was covered by a small velvet cap, whose wide band on it held at least a hundred jewels. It looked almost like a crown.
“My lady,” he said, bowing as he sat atop his horse. His smile was mocking, almost insulting.
Judith stared at him, her heart beating quickly. There was a coldness in his eyes that frightened her. He would not be one to easily overrule.
“I am Sir Arthur Smiton, chief vassal to Lord Walter Demari. He bids you welcome.”
Welcome! Judith thought, controlling herself not to spit the word at him, thinking of her father butchered, her husband and mother held captive, several lives already lost. She inclined her head toward him. “You hold my mother captive?”
He looked at her speculatively, as if he tried to take her measure. She’d been sent no message, yet she knew what was needed.
“Yes, my lady.”
“Then I will go to her.” Judith urged her horse forward, but Arthur grabbed the bridle.
To a man, the one hundred knights who surrounded Judith drew their swords.
Arthur didn’t lose his smile. “You can’t think to enter our gates with so many men.”
“You would have me go alone?” she asked, aghast. It was what she’d expected, but perhaps she could persuade Smiton to allow some of her men to accompany her. “You would perhaps have me leave my maid behind? Or my personal guard?”
He watched her intently. “One man. One woman. No more.”
She nodded, knowing it was no use to argue. At least John Bassett would be with her. “Joan,” she called as she turned and saw the girl eyeing Arthur speculatively. “Prepare the cart with my goods and follow me. John—” She turned and saw that he was already giving orders for the establishment of a camp outside the castle walls.
Judith rode across the drawbridge, under the arched stone gate, with her back straight. She wondered if she would ever leave the walls alive. Walter Demari stood waiting to help her dismount. She remembered him as a gentle young man, neither handsome nor ugly; but now his blue eyes showed weakness, his nose was too big, and his thin lips looked cruel.
He stared at her. “You are even more beautiful than I remembered.”
She had dressed carefully that morning. A band of pearls encircled her head. Close to her body she wore a red silk petticoat with a wide border of white fur. Her gown was of maroon velvet, the hem embroidered with gold scrollwork. The sleeves were tight except at the shoulder, where the velvet was slit and the red silk pulled through. The neck was cut deep, her breasts swelling above the fabric. When she walked, she lifted the velvet overskirt and exposed the fur-trimmed silk beneath.