Chapter V

 

THE EARL of Kent heard the message impassively. No ransom was to be paid. Dorchester was obviously confident Louis would prevail in his attack on Dover Castle. So confident he would risk his daughter’s life on the gamble. To be fair to the man, Dorchester did not know that his captain had betrayed his plans to the enemy.

White with rage, Hubert ordered the herald out of the room and turned to his advisors. “Dorchester believes me soft. He thinks I will capitulate when I see Louis’ forces amassing at the foot of the castle. I will show him what I think of his threats. We can yet make use of the girl,” he said evenly.

Griffith and de Burgh’s advisors exchanged glances.

“How so, my lord?” asked one.

“The alliance of Lady Elspeth and Lord Tyndale is crucial to the French hold on the coast. There is to be no ransom. No ransom—no wedding. It is a simple calculation. Lady Elspeth will not be married. Without the coast, there is no victory. Dorchester has known this all along—as has Louis. They underestimate my resolve to beat them back at whatever cost. War is a terrible thing. It exacts a high price of men and women. We will send the Lady Elspeth back to her groom with a message between her legs. Let us see if Tyndale will marry her then.”

Griffith gripped Hubert’s arm. “You cannot mean this. You are overcome by anger. You do wrong here, you know you do. I warn you, Hubert, you will have cause to regret this action.”

Hubert de Burgh frowned. “I am beginning to think I cannot trust your loyalty, Griffith of Nottingham. Perhaps you have been living amongst the rebels for too long. I pray this is not the case, my friend, for I do not want this to come between us. It is only war and women are a spoil of war. Men in my service will perform the deed. If you try to stop it or attempt to warn the girl, I will take that to mean your commitment to our cause is not ... firm.”

Ellie’s words came back to haunt him. “My commitment is unchanged, as is my integrity. Men of honour do not use women to win their wars.”

One of de Burgh’s advisors stepped forward. “What of Dorchester’s honour? The blood of good men has been spilled from the beginning of English history to hold the lands for these entitled lords. And this is the thanks those dead have received.”

“Aye,” chimed in a second voice. “The baron lords have profited mightily by this conflict. They lost no sleep in selling their kinsmen out to the French. We owe them neither honour nor respect.”

Griffith turned on them one-by-one. “We owe it to ourselves! Why else fight if not to restore honour to the kingdom? De Burgh—listen to reason! Allow me to transport Lady Elspeth to Canterbury as we planned and I will join the Wealden Archers to fulfill my mission. If the wedding takes place, it will make no difference. The archers will shatter any hope the French have of holding the coast.

Hubert de Burgh turned his gaze to the sea. “Lady Elspeth will stay here. You will return to that murderous bastard, Dorchester and inform him his daughter has been captured and sullied for Tyndale. She has been abandoned to the mercy of de Burgh. There are three men of my company—esquires brave and true loyalists who have sacrificed much in this conflict brought on by these English lords. The girl will be their vengeance and their reward.”

Griffith felt the blood leave his face. He stared into the eyes of each of the men assembled. Hubert alone had the grace to look ashamed. “You cannot be serious.”

“I have never been more so. The men will strip the lady of her chastity and her bloodied sheets will provide ample proof of the act. The marriage will not take place, not to Tyndale nor to anyone in Louie’s camp. Dorchester will soon learn what I am made of. Do not look so appalled. King John has locked up his niece, Eleanor for the same reason.”

“Aye but he has not ordered her raped, Hubert. The marriage to Tyndale will not take place—Cassingham will kill the man as soon as he takes Canterbury. We agreed this was the surest plan.”

“We agreed when we still had men and arms. If we hold her hostage, the Earl will keep the Dauphin’s siege well supplied to bring about her release and we are back where we started. We cannot hold this castle indefinitely. The swiftest route to ruining the Earl’s ambitions with Louis is to destroy his chief asset—the future Countess of Dorset.”

“If I had known this was to be her fate I never would have allowed her to be brought here. I would have killed your men while I had the chance.”

“Fate is a convenient word. If not for her own folly, Lady Elspeth would be safely in Canterbury right now, the victim of an attack but none the worse for it. As it happens, she is our prisoner and it is we who are under attack. We must make use of her.”

Hubert clapped his friend on the shoulder. “I need your support, Griffith. Remember our goal: to win back London and the crown. Death by a thousand cuts. The barons who allowed an invader to take our nation are traitors and we will destroy them one by one. Lady Elspeth is a casualty of war. Our only weapons are the tiny nicks to each that will cause them to bleed out. They will turn back to King John like the cowards they are. Make no mistake.”

“Then let me do it,” Griffith said desperately. “Raping Elspeth will be far more wounding if it is I who inflict the cut. Worth three men, I wager. Dorchester trusted me, confided in me. To have one in his own ranks betray him will destroy his confidence. I know the man. He will withdraw his support for Louis and side with the loyalists. Dorchester is a rich man. We will need his provisions to regain London. The blow will be fatal if it comes from me.”

De Burgh nodded his head slowly. “I agree. With one stroke, we ruin Dorchester, Tyndale and weaken Louis’s siege. Griffith, you will commit the deed tonight after the lady is gone to bed. I will station two of my best knights behind the tapestries to bear witness.”

“That will not be necessary.”

“It will be if we are to break Dorchester and turn him to our cause. He has chosen the wrong side. The testimony of three of King John’s men to the rape of his daughter will persuade him to rethink his allegiance.”

Griffith forced a grin to his mouth. “I assure you, gentle lords, witnesses will not be necessary for I will be only too happy to take Dorchester’s daughter’s virtue and boast about it thereafter. You will have your proof; only leave me to do the deed.”

“You are too hot, Captain Griffith,” admonished another of Hubert’s advisors. “I myself would prefer to witness the act for the sake of veracity.”

Griffith fixed the speaker with a hard stare. There was always one toad in every regiment. Charles of Essex was Hubert de Burgh’s toad. “I concede to your wish, my lord. How is it to be done?”

“There is an alcove in the lady’s room hidden by a tapestry. Sir Charles and Sir Garth will position themselves there. Take care not to give them away, Griffith, and no harm shall come to the lady.”

No harm, Griffith thought. No harm. Remember that.

 

THE NIGHT came with such forbidding black that Griffith wondered if heaven itself knew what he was about to do. He knocked on her door.

Ellie opened it. She was dressed in a long thin gown of white muslin and a silk robe over her shoulders. Her hair was loose. He had interrupted her in the middle of combing it out.

“Thank God, you are safe!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. “How did you escape?”

“They released me to confirm your safety with my own eyes, my lady. Else I would not cooperate with them.”

“I am safe for the moment but we must get word to my father. What do you think, Captain. What is our plan to leave this wretched place?”

Griffith squared his shoulders and pushed his way into her room, well aware that the two knights were watching his every move. He closed the door behind him.

Ellie gazed at him, puzzled. “What means this?”

For answer, Griffith unbuckled his belt and let it fall to the floor. He met her eyes.

Ellie returned his look solemnly. “We are friends, are we not? Surely, we will not let our bond of friendship be broken by the wars of old men. If you imagine that I will beg you not to do this and feed your paltry sense of power, you will be disappointed. I will not beg, Captain Griffith.”

“I know you will not, my lady. I do not wish it.”

Ellie’s voice was icy. “The sad thing is I believe you. It is not for love or sex that men rob maids of what little they can call their own in this world but for land and power. A kingdom. And such a kingdom it is too. Full of blood and hacked off limbs and virgins split in two. It is a fine world you men have created and you are welcome to it.”

She moved to the casement window and stood at it, gazing determinedly at the night sky. The July night was full of heat and mystery and soft breezes that caressed her skin. Even nature was betraying her, turning his presence in her room into a romantic tryst. Such a night as this stirred her blood. Griffith stood behind her.

“I do not understand this,” she murmured, turning to him in appeal. “It is all so ... pointless.”

Sweat had formed on his brow. “Forgive me, my lady.”

“Oh God, you cannot mean to do this, Captain Griffith!”

There was in his handsome face a terrible fixed determination that he would bed her. The thought of such an event laid the breath flat in Ellie’s chest. Mingled with her fear and sorrow was a yearning that saddened her all the more. It was possible that in a different time, under different circumstances they could have loved one another. But they were deprived of that time, being trapped in this one by the monstrous wills of two rival kings.

Ellie knew she would struggle and it would not change anything.

“Please, Ellie. I must. I must.”

Griffith closed his eyes briefly and reached for the fastening on her gown.

“Captain, no!”

She sprang back. His hand shot out and caught her by the wrist. “I would rather be dead than do this but they have other plans for you if I do not.”

Her eyes widened. “What manner of plans?”

Griffith covered her mouth with his hand. She twisted briefly to resist but doing so only made him hold her tighter. His voice was in her ear. “We are being watched,” he whispered. And then he said loudly: “Do not scream, my lady.” He nodded his head in the direction of the alcove behind the tapestry.

Ellie slowly lifted her eyes to his face. Griffith drew her into his arms until she was pinned to his chest, his hand still over her mouth. “Do as I say, Ellie. Trust me. I am here to protect you.”

He led her by the hand to the bed. The candle cast long shadows over the canopy. The night was warm; there was no need of a fire and the room was in darkness beyond the square of the bed’s counterpane.

Griffith pressed her back until she was forced to sit down on the edge of the goose down stuffed mattress. The furnishings were luxurious; the night was sultry and wild with stars. He removed his clothing slowly, either to stall the inevitable or to give her time to adjust to what was about to happen.

Ellie watched his disrobing with a peculiar detachment. Her limbs were numb though not cold. Her lips were numb too. She wanted to peer into the dark recesses of the room to find the eyes of those who were watching. She did not doubt for a moment that Griffith was telling the truth. This was the sort of sport that King John’s men would take pleasure in—degrading Captain Griffith’s honour and hers in one fell swoop. As well, the wound to her father would be devastating; robbing him of the match with Tyndale and of his captain all in one terrible night. No, Ellie did not doubt that de Burgh’s men were enjoying the display.

She stretched out like a board on the mattress, fixing her eyes on the canopy overhead to avoid seeing his naked body. She would not beg, fight or scream. She would die before she gave them that satisfaction. Her father would be spared that at least. They must have exerted some terrible force on Captain Griffith to make him agree. He was too noble to take a woman’s maidenhead by force.

She squeezed her eyes shut. “Were you tortured, Captain?” she whispered. “Only tell me what has happened!”

“I was not tortured. De Burgh’s petition for ransom was declined. In his rage, his lordship ordered your—they mean to—if I did not.” He could say no more.

Ellie opened her eyes to read the look of repugnance on the captain’s face and knew the choice Griffith was given. “It was to be you or they would have chosen someone else,” she said softly as understanding dawned.

“It was to be me or they would have chosen three others. They would not be gentle, my lady. The torture they had planned for you was unique and I would have been made to watch. This is the best protection I could offer you. They would not relent and I cannot overpower them all. I will do my best not to hurt you, my lady.”

“Captain?” she whispered again after a brief silence. “I am a little frightened. Please do not be offended. I do not fault you and I shall tell my father so. I am mortified for both our sakes.”

“My lady, please forgive me.”

“I do, Captain. Let it be done now. I am ready.”

Captain Griffith was stronger and much more terrifying naked than he was clothed. Ellie’s eyes slid to the mass between his legs, alarmed to see he was aroused to a great size. His legs were long and well-muscled, dusted with fine brown hairs like those on his head. His eyes were on her face and she tried to avoid them. His hands hung at his sides, gracefully, fingers that had held a crossbow and handled arrows lovingly between their tips.

He lay down beside her and whispered. “We must convince them. Do not be alarmed but I must take you by force and you must struggle.” Then he covered her mouth with his.

Ellie parted her lips under the assault and was shocked by contact with his tongue. The sensation was disturbing and welcome. There was a rush of moisture between her thighs. Unaware, Ellie parted her legs and the captain slid his hand up under her gown.

“Do not be frightened, my lady,” Griffith whispered. “This will help … for later.”

She screwed her eyes tight and concentrated on his mouth to drive from her mind what he was doing with his fingers. He stroked her in a place between her legs that she did not know existed. Ellie writhed under the fingering and felt catapulted out of her skin. She tried to press her legs closed but Captain Griffith would not allow it.

She met his eyes. He returned her look in sober silence, continuing all the while to stroke the satin flesh. She clutched his shoulders, her eyes registering her bewilderment and fear as pleasure, such as she’d never known, exploded through her body. The captain put his hand over her mouth to stifle her cry and held her gaze in his. “I am six and twenty and you are eighteen. We are not children. I am charged with your safety. I do this to protect you. Remember that. Remember my words. I do this out of friendship.”

And with that he speared her core with his sex, knocking her senseless with pain.

“Breathe. Do not resist. It will go easier.” His voice sounded in her ear as if from a great distance, low and heaving, panting like a beast. Captain Griffith’s body was tense with self-restraint. The pain of contracting flesh was shattering. She tried to do as he instructed and allow herself to breathe but it was several terrible moments before she could even think.

Griffith moved very slowly, in and out of her womanhood, a soothing rhythm that helped ease the pain and her panic. She matched his thrusts with her own, without knowing where the instinct came from. The captain kissed her again, deeply, bending over her, covering her with his broad back as though to shelter her. But there was no need to protect her now. The job was done. Her maidenhead had been breached. His lips were on hers and she responded for Ellie liked kissing him. The rest of it was too shocking and too painful to ever be repeated, but she was glad to be kissed before she was sent away to a nunnery, which was the only life she could expect to have now that she was unfit to wed.

She surrendered a little under his kiss. A little was all her body needed to find delight in her guardsman’s thrusts. The sensation began as a kind of tremor; fluid leaked from her womb and down her thighs in preparation to receive his seed. Ellie had learned very little from her mother and still less from her nanny about the sex act, but she understood its purpose was to conceive children. What if she became with child? To bear the bastard child of the captain in her father’s guard was unthinkable. She would not even have the nunnery to turn to in such an event.

Griffith thrust harder and faster. Her wretched body responded with wondrous explosions of unnamed pleasure that only whet his appetite for more. He made a sound in her ear; a deep growl of rapture and then the captain’s body stiffened and he flung his head back, his eyes tightly closed.

Ellie seized her chance and pushed with all her might, shoving him out of her at the very moment of release. A stream of his seed, caught in the golden candle light, spurted over her belly and muslin gown. Griffith was caught up in orgasm, his pelvis jerking spasmodically and his eyes closed tight. The violence of the pleasure she had given him was exciting and alarming. Captain Griffith was weakened by the act, lying on his back, damp with sweat. His eyes found hers and though he did not speak, she knew that all had changed between them. They were no longer carefree youngsters camping beside a stream. They were no longer free at all.

“I am sorry I pushed you away, Captain Griffith. If we had conceived a child....”

Griffith cleared his throat and swung his legs over the bed. “Do not apologize. You did right, my lady. It is done now. They will release you now to return to Tyndale.”

With a message between her legs.