THE TARNISHED LADY By Sandra Hill

She looked about the empty hall for someone to send after G6dric. Well, she could wait until Wilfrid returned, but… hmmm. Moving hesitantly toward the door to the lower level, she thought that mayhap she would just go below and see if there was any evidence of Godric’s having been there.

Lighting a torch, she made her way through the damp corridor and grinned with satisfaction when she saw an apple core near the outside entrance. She smiled even wider when she saw that the door was shut. The little imp must have gone outside, and when the door swung shut behind him, he’d had no way to return except around the keep and through the main entrance. He no doubt feared a beating from Wilfrid for having disobeyed his orders.

Well, she could easily forestall such a severe punishment for the little boy. Easing the door open, she peeked outside and immediately realized her mistake.

Steven of Gravely stood there in full armor with six fierce-looking men. He was leaning lazily against a tree, chomping on an apple. Godric was nowhere in sight.

“Well, what a pleasure meeting up with the Silver Whore of Northumbria!” He grabbed her before she could scream and put a blindfold over her eyes and a gag in her mouth, binding her wrists and ankles. Then he threw her over a horse in front of him and galloped off.

Eadyth’s first thought was of Eirik and how angry he would be that she had disobeyed his orders once again. But, immediately, she realized she had more urgent concerns—her safety and that of Godric.

They rode for what seemed like an hour to Eadyth. When they finally stopped, Steven pulled her roughly off the horse and removed her ankle restraints. She fell to her knees. His fingers bit into her upper arm and he pushed her ahead of him up a set of stone steps and through a long corridor. Only when they were well inside did he remove her blindfold. Then Eadyth saw that they were in a small manor house, one she did not recognize.

Still pushing her ahead of him, Steven took her to a gallery which overlooked a small room below, well lit with torches. Eadyth jerked back with horror at what she saw and tried to break free from Steven’s grip on her forearms, to no avail. She screamed silently behind her gag as tears welled in her eyes and overflowed.

A whimpering Godric stood in the center of the room, his arms raised above his head and tied to a loop of rope over an exposed beam, his thin body exposed to the coolness of the chamber. A guard sat indolently in a nearby chair, a sword laid over his lap. Eadyth saw no wounds on the precious child, just a few bruises, but his eyes were wide with fright and his body trembled.

When Steven felt she had seen enough, he turned her with a shove toward another corridor, then led her into a small chamber. Eadyth saw no servants about. The manor appeared to be abandoned. When they were inside, Steven put a torch to several hanging soapstone candles. He motioned for her to sit. Then he removed her gag, but did not release her wrists, which were still tied behind her back. He dropped into a chair opposite her and glared at her malevolently.

Steven’s appearance had deteriorated even more the past few sennights since he had escaped from Ravenshire. Once godly handsome, his leanly muscled body had wasted away to a sickly gauntness. A gray pallor had erased the bronze that had colored his healthy skin. Even his hair, which had been thick and glossy like black silk, hung lankly about his face.

“You are unwell,” she remarked without thinking.

“Yea, but do not think I will be leaving this life anytime in the near future. I have many years ahead of me, bitch, and once I secure my inheritance, through our son, I will make for the Holy Lands. There is a Saracen doctor who promises a cure for my… ailment.”

Eadyth shrugged. “Steven, release Godric. The boy has done you no harm.”

“Nay, I have plans for the child.” He cackled evilly, then broke into a fit of coughing, finally spitting bloody phlegm into a linen cloth.