Courtly Love Read online

  "My name is Gyles, not 'm'lord.' Say it."

  "Gyles." The name was spoken gently, almost shyly, and the sound was most welcome to Gyles's ear.

  Gyles bent to place a kiss upon Serena's lips. "And now, sweet wife, the night grows short." He lifted Serena in his arms and strode across the room.

  Serena's head rested against his shoulder and she closed her eyes against the rest of the world. The bed was soft and seemed to welcome Serena's weight, but her eyes flew open when Gyles did not join her. He stood above Serena, a half-smile playing on his lips, and she found Gyles had placed her on her own bed.

  "Rest well, Serena, tomorrow will be long and tiring." He turned to the door which joined their rooms that still stood ajar from their passage. "One last thing, Serena. You remember the afternoon at the pond?" At her nod, Gyles continued, "You gave me your word on a certain matter."

  Serena propped herself up on her elbows and eyed him curiously.

  "Your word of honor, Serena, that you would not take part in the lists, remember?" Again Serena nodded. "See that you keep your word."

  * * *

  Gyles woke well-pleased with himself the following morning, and allowed himself the luxury of lying abed before he began the day. Memory of the evening sprang to his mind and Gyles found himself smiling at the ceiling. Serena. She would be his wife in deed as well as in name soon, and the thought brought Gyles contentment despite the warmth that was beginning to grow in his loins. Her ability to meet his own passion with a ferocity all her own astounded Gyles; but he must tred carefully lest he go too far too quickly and frighten Serena with his desire. The suffused warmth turned into a sweet ache within his body and Gyles was sorely tempted to seek out Serena's bed despite his previous resolutions. But Serena had to be tenderly wooed—Gyles knew that now—so that she would not feel she had been bid and bartered for like a brood mare. Oh, yes; when Gyles finished his courtship of her mind there would be no corner of it that would defy him and then Gyles would be free to unleash all of Serena's passion.

  Gyles swung himself from the bed and began to gird himself for the battle. Hearing movements outside his door, Gyles called for his squire to enter and soon Gyles descended to the hall to break his fast. Serena was not at the table, and though Giles dallied as long as he dared, by the time he rose Serena still had not shown herself.

  A frown crossed Gyles's face; it wasn't like Serena to be late; for all week she had beaten him to the hall every morning. Gyles could think only that Serena had had a change of heart where he was concerned and the thought caused his face to set grimly. Serena had reconsidered and decided upon Richard over her husband. Gyles retraced his steps to seek her out and confront her and nearly ran over Serena in his haste.

  Her hair still mussed from sleep fell across her shoulders and over the creamy skin of her bosom, and Serena was clad only in a blue chamber robe as she stood beside a pillar that concealed her from the hall below. She reached out and drew Gyles into the shadow with her.

  "I overslept," Serena confessed drowsily, as her blue eyes hazily focused on her husband. "But I could not let you leave without wishing you luck."

  Gyles smiled and indicated his scabbard around which was tied Serena's scarf. "Today I carry my gentle lady's colors into mortal combat," he intoned heavily. "And should I mortally stricken fall, 'twill bring me comfort to know she cares."

  Serena paled. "Do not speak like that, Gyles, not even in jest!"

  "Ah, you remembered, Serena. Tis much to my liking to hear my name from your lips." Gyles caressed her cheek with his fingertips and shook his head at her loss of color. " 'Tis only a mock battle, Serena, no harm will befall me," Gyles chided.

  Serena's hand sought his and she pressed a kiss into his palm. "You will have a care for yourself, Gyles?"

  Gyles smiled indulgently. "Yes, Serena, I will take care. For of what use would I be to you if I were only half a man?" he asked wickedly.

  "Gyles!" Serena looked at him reproachfully before her lips curved into a smile. "And try not to be too angry with me, I pray you. I promised Godwin he could bear my standard today, and I cannot in all fairness revoke that honor now."

  Gyles sighed and shook his head. "Ah, Serena, which are you: Saxon maiden or Norman wife? In truth you have probably instructed Godwin to remove this poor knight from your life."

  "Nay, Gyles!" Serena flew into his arms and pressed herself tightly against him. "I would not! I swear, I would not!"

  "Serena?" Gyles was shocked by her vehement denial. "Serena? I but meant to tease you."

  " 'Tis not amusing!" Serena's voice caught in her throat. "You are my husband."

  Gyles lifted her in his arms. "Then give your husband a token to carry into battle," Gyles whispered hoarsely and his mouth came down on hers. He had meant only a gentle kiss, but the fires that had been so carefully banked now flared and Gyles knew that his mouth was working with a bruising force on Serena's.

  Serena—her newly discovered passion blossoming forth—met Gyles's tongue with her own and reveled at its effect, for his hands slid down her back to her buttocks to mold her firmly against him. When at last they parted, it was Serena who was able to speak despite the strangely overwhelming ache in her body.

  "The trumpets sound, Gyles, you had better hurry for you will have little enough time to don your armor."

  Her blue eyes sparkled teasingly at him. "What you hunger for will be here when you return."

  Serena spun from his hold and ran lightly to her chamber. At the door she paused. "I will be watching," she called. "See you do my colors honor!" With a light laugh she disappeared.

  Gyles pulled on his helm and surveyed the field as his squire buckled the sword around his waist. It was only mid-morning, but already the heat beat down in shimmering waves. Not the ideal day to be trapped in a suit of amor, Gyles mused. His green eyes scanned the field and he noticed that he would not be the only late arrival. Godwin was hurrying to keep pace with Bryan as they gained the field, and Gyles saw him refuse Bryan's offer of a horse for the combat. Bryan was gesticulating wildly to the younger knight, and then Godwin must have spoken for Bryan's movement ceased and he stood quietly in front of Godwin. Bryan must have begun one last appeal, but Godwin would have none of it and flipped down the visor of his helm and swaggered—that was the only word for it—to his squire to choose his arms.

  The shield was slipped over Godwin's forearm and then he selected a broadsword. The mace he discarded as it could not be blunted and its sharp spikes were capable of splitting a man's head with ease. A lighter sword was strapped around Godwin's armor and at the last minute, he reached out and added a dagger to his equipment. Bryan was nearby, going through the same process, but his equipage was suited—as was Gyles's— for a man on horseback. He called something to Godwin and Godwin raised his hands in an indifferent gesture. Richard's banner was crossing the field to where Bryan and Godwin stood arguing and Gyles was surprised by the fierce look on Richard's face. He stepped between Bryan and Godwin but addressed himself solely to the smaller knight. A light breeze rippled over the field and part of Richard's words reached Gyles's ears.

  "... insane ... I will not allow . . . when Gyles sees you ... could do with a thrashing ... still not too old — knight of the realm . . . Lady Serena . . . brother should know better ... off the field!"

  In an action completely out of character, Godwin stamped his foot and Gyles burst into laughter. It appeared Godwin had his own reasons for avoiding the mixed company of the castle. Gyles wondered if Serena knew her former sparring partner's sexual preference. Small wonder Richard wanted him off the field—no doubt he felt Godwin unworthy of his knighting. Gyles dismissed the scene from his mind and mounted his horse.

  As was customary, the combatants circled the field so that the spectators could cheer their favorites. Gyles caught sight of Alan waving excitedly to him with one hand while Nellwyn kept a firm grip on the other. The nurse gave Bryan a disapproving glare as he passed and Gyles wondered i
f Bryan had fallen back into the habit of imbibing too much. Serena was nowhere to be seen though Gyles's green eyes probed the crowd for her. Undoubtedly she was still dressing, Gyles thought, or perhaps she had decided to wait in her chamber until he returned so they could have the privacy he for one so urgently desired. Serena's welcome—Gyles could already see the delicate alabaster body gracing his bed as Serena's eyes beckoned him to join her.

  The trumpets blared and the opposing forces took their positions. Gyles's mount stamped and tossed its head, as eager as its rider for the battle to be met. The signal was given and with a roar the knights surged forward. Soon the air was filled with the metallic ring of steel upon steel. Sword met shield, lance found armor, and churning hooves raised clouds of dust that blinded and choked those caught in its midst. The rules of the combat were simple: If a knight was unhorsed he could continue to fight on foot, but once a man lost all his weapons or lost his footing and fell, he was disqualified and must leave the field.

  Slowly, one by one, defeated knights trudged from the scene of combat, some suffering bruises but no serious damage. The morning wore on and the participants fell more quickly, for the merciless heat of the sun made the armor unbearably hot, and most of the men actually welcomed their own defeat as it meant they could retire to the shade, doff their armor, and ease their thirst from the kegs of ale and wine.

  The field was rapidly diminishing as Gyles unseated his mounted opponent. The man regained his feet quickly and raised his sword to strike, but Gyles's blade caught the hilt and sent it spinning into the air. The knight acknowledged his defeat and Gyles turned to search for another adversary. Rivulets of sweat ran down Gyles's face and into his eyes and he blinked rapidly to clear his vision. It appeared that if he desired another opponent he would have to cross the field, so Gyles spurred his mount in that direction. No other combatant remained on horse as Gyles dismounted and sent his steed off with a sharp slap on its rump. Gyles hefted his sword and advanced toward a knight who was dispatching his larger foe with consummate skill.

  Gyles halted and his voice rang clear between them. "Declare yourself, sir knight. Friend or foe?"

  The knight turned so that Gyles could see the logo on his shield, and when he spoke, the voice was oddly muffled. "Foe, Lord Gyles. I am Godwin of Broughton. Come, for my blade is eager to bite another Norman shield." And Godwin's sword sang through the air.

  Gyles raised his shield just in time, for even with its blunted edge the broadsword would have dented his helm. Caught off guard, Gyles felt himself give ground as Godwin delivered a series of lightning blows that gave Gyles no opportunity to raise his sword, for he was too involved with presenting his shield to Godwin. Gyles immediately recognized that because of Godwin's lesser size he could not withstand the usual grueling, punishing display of arms, and rather than stand firm and allow Gyles's blows to find him, Godwin reverted to dodging Gyles's sword and darting under his guard to land a blow. Though Godwin's blade often found its target, it cost Gyles little, for he was accustomed to the heavier blows of men his own size; yet he admired Godwin's determination. Where many knights depended upon sheer strength to win the day, Godwin had been forced to develop a skillfulness Gyles had not seen before among Saxons. Godwin swung again, and the blade of his sword caught in Gyles's shield. As Godwin worked to free the blade, Gyles slipped his arm from the enarmes of the shield and sent both sword and shield flying off to the side.

  In desperation, Godwin drew his light sidearm, though both men realized the futility of the move. Gyles stayed his blow. "Yield, Sir Godwin. You are my wife's man and I have no wish to do you injury. 'Tis finished and you have fought gallantly." Godwin shook his head. "Then I shall end this mockery quickly." Gyles's sword descended and he felt the shield buckle beneath the force of his blow. Godwin's light sword flashed toward him and Gyles brought his sword upward to block the blade's path. The thinner steel bent then broke, and still Godwin did not admit defeat, but instead moved closer to Gyles while they circled each other so that he could make better use of his shortened weapon.

  Gyles lifted his sword in both hands and as it began to descend, the light slanted across Godwin's visor, exposing a pair of sparkling, deep blue eyes. Godwin's eyes were brown! The thought flashed through Gyles's mind even as he knew there was no hope of checking the blow, and his sword broke through the shield and glanced off his opponent's helm. Gyles flung his weapon aside with a savage cry as he strove to catch the figure as it pitched forward. His suspicions were confirmed when Gyles felt the slight weight in his arms. He knew, even before his shaking fingers lifted the visor and his eyes beheld the delicate face of his wife, that Godwin had never been his opponent. A trickle of blood started at Serena's temple and cut a path downward across her cheek. Gyles tore the gauntlets from his hands and fumbled for the scarf that hung on his scabbard. He dabbed anxiously at the blood to discover the location of the wound. God, oh, God! Gyles prayed mutely. Do not take her from me, I beg you. Oh, God! Beneath his helm, Gyles was unaware that tears mingled with sweat.

  Footsteps pounded toward him and Gyles glanced up to see Richard and Bryan racing across the field. "Have a care for yourself," Serena had begged him this morning. Serena, Serena. Gyles anguished silently. You would take from me all that I need in life, yourself. Gyles dragged the helm from his head so that he could pass a hand over his eyes, for his vision had suddenly blurred.

  Richard dropped to his knees on the other side of Serena's unmoving form; Bryan allowed himself a quick look at his sister and signaled for a litter. Absurdly, the mock battle still raged and the crowd still cheered its champions on. All were oblivious to the tragedy that had taken place and anger was added to Gyles's private anguish. Bryan knelt beside Gyles and gently pulled his hand away from Serena's face.

  "Let me, Gyles." Bryan's voice was low, and he deftly blotted at the blood with the scarf.

  Gyles studied Bryan's blue eyes, duplicates of Serena's, and rage built steadily within him. "Are you responsible for this?"

  Bryan didn't answer, but busied himself with removing Serena's helm. He lifted her head and tugged at her coif. Serena's bright hair spilled onto the field and Gyles groaned inwardly as he remembered how soft those curls were beneath his fingers. Bryan was still dabbing at the blood and now he looked up. "Look to Serena's helm."

  "What?" Gyles asked dumbly. This was no time to be concerned with Serena's armor.

  "The helm!" Bryan snapped. "Is there a sharp edge on the inside?"

  Gyles picked up the discarded helm and ran a finger around its edge. There! A part of the inner rim seam had not been hammered down, but had been left standing. It would cause no discomfort when worn, but a blow to the head ...

  "Well?" Bryan asked sharply.

  "Aye, Bryan, there's an unfinished seam," Gyles answered.

  "I thought as much." Bryan's fingers parted Serena's tresses at the hairline, exposing a thin cut a few inches above her ear. He gave Gyles a shaky smile. "She'll be fine, Gyles, your blow merely caused her to lose her senses."

  "Thank God!" Richard whispered and made to lift Serena in his arms.

  "Take your hands from my wife," Gyles ground out. "If you ever touch her again, I will see you dead." Gyles carefully raised Serena in his arms and set off for the castle.

  Once inside the comparative safety of Serena's chamber, Gyles allowed the mask he had held so carefully in place in front of the others to slip, and his handsome face contorted in agony. Tenderly, he placed Serena on the bed and removed first her armor and then the mail. He gave a choked laugh when he saw the altered clothes Serena wore to protect her delicate skin from the links of mail. Gently he pulled those from her as well, then found a cloth and water and bathed her, washing the caked blood and grime from Serena's body and face. Gyles left her for a moment in order to search through the chests for a chamber robe, and having found one, he returned and clumsily dropped it over her shoulders and finally succeeded in pulling it down the length of her body.

 
; Serena stirred and whimpered softly when Gyles moved her again to slip her beneath a linen sheet. She quieted immediately and Gyles dropped a light kiss on her forehead when the door opened to admit Nellwyn.

  "See to your mistress," Gyles snapped. "When she wakes, send for me." He spun on his heel and left the room.

  Outside Bryan waited, and a short distance from him stood Richard. Gyles sent a withering look at Richard then turned to Bryan.

  "I want to see you!" Gyles snarled.

  Bryan had the audacity to grin at his sister's husband. "Yes, I rather thought you might." He followed Gyles into his chamber.

  "Of all the addlepated, senseless, insane tricks to pull!" Gyles thundered as soon as the door closed behind Bryan. He paced wildly about the room, divesting himself of his armor as he worked himself into a towering rage. "Serena is little more than a child, and a woman into the bargain, so I can excuse her behavior on the grounds that she doesn't know any better; but you should have. How long did you think she could have lasted out there?"

  Bryan viewed Gyles's agitation calmly and poured himself some wine before answering. "It appears to me, my baby sister held her own quite well. She was one of the last on the field, remember. And save for a piece of sharp metal, Serena might still be on the field. I know not how Norman women behave, but 'tis not unusual for a Saxon woman to follow her father or husband into battle. The custom is used less often now, but two and three generations ago, Saxon men viewed this action as the supreme testimony of love and devotion from their women."

  "It's barbaric!" Gyles's anger was not appeased. "And stupid. A woman is no match for a man; Serena proved that today."

  "Oh? Serena defeated all opponents save you today —without assistance. You must have noticed she relies not on physical strength but skill. And she has had the benefit of fine tutors. As for the practice being stupid, ask my father some day how he met my mother." Gyles's raised eyebrow invited Bryan to continue. "She unseated him in a joust. You see, Serena is her mother's daughter."