Fires of Winter by Roberta Gellis Page B

was beautifully painted and gilded, whereas the first man’s was chipped and battered, and this man had a gold circlet affixed to his helmet. This was the king, but somehow I was less afraid. His face was obscured by the nasal of his helmet, but the eyes were mild, the mouth bland, and there was a fullness about the chin that robbed it of determination even though it was not weak. His expression, puzzled rather than angry, held none of the intensity of the first man’s, who said a word to him softly and went out with an indifference that showed contempt and emphasized my powerlessness.
    Others came in then, but with sheathed weapons; and as the king approached me, he put his own sword away and lifted off his helmet, handing it to a smaller man—perhaps it was a boy, a squire. “Be quiet!” he said to the women. “I will do you no harm.” They obeyed him better than they would have obeyed me. He stopped about a yard away from us, his followers respectfully behind him, and asked, “Who are you?”
    The question was plainly addressed to me, and I suddenly found that my tongue no longer cleaved to my mouth, bone-dry with fear. I answered quietly, “I am Lady Melusine of Ulle.”
    â€œWhere is your brother Magnus?”
    His voice was sharp now, still not hard, but my heart sank. I remembered how my father had said the king would know nothing about us, but Papa had been wrong. It seemed that Stephen knew far more than Papa had guessed. Still, nothing could hurt Magnus ever again, and my first terror worn away, the deadness in my soul had crept back, making me indifferent to my own fate.
    â€œMagnus is dead,” I said softly. “He was murdered on the road on his way home from his betrothal.”
    Shock, followed by sympathy, showed on the king’s face, and it came into my mind that I might yet save Ulle with weakness where strength would not serve. So before Stephen could speak I asked, “Why did you attack me? I have done no harm to anyone.”
    The little hope was crushed at once. A kind of spiteful stubbornness replaced the look of sympathy, and the king snarled, “Why did you seal your manor against me, against me, the king? You knew your father and brother were rebels, gone over to King David. Well, the lands are forfeit for that. I am done with forgiving rebellion. And you need not think any will dare oppose me. I have cleaned out this sewer of Scots lovers. Nor will there be any to lead uprisings. Your father and your brother are dead, killed at Wark in open rebellion.”
    I had known they were dead. I had known from the moment the shepherd brought Magnus home with frost crystals whitening his eyes that whatever curse had fallen on me on my thirteenth birthday would not lift until all I loved were destroyed. Still, to hear it said, no longer to be able to fight the knowledge, no longer to be able to cling to any shred of hope—that felled me. I must have fainted and perhaps I was unconscious for a long time and that reawakened the king’s sympathy. I learned many months later that he had treated me with great kindness, but I have no memory of that nor of anything else that took place until the beginning of September. I must believe, little as I like it, that I was quite mad for nearly eight months.

Chapter 5
    Bruno
    â€œMy lord, I do not want a wife, especially one I do not know, and I cannot provide for one.”
    Fortunately the king and I were private when the words burst from me, and he laughed at my reaction. “You know Lady Melusine. She has been one of the queen’s ladies since you took her manor—Ulle. You must have seen her many times. She is the tall, dark lady to whom I often speak—a very beautiful woman, very quiet and gentle. Well, I think her gentle.”
    I called her to mind as soon as the king described her, but I did not think her beautiful—a big mare, good for heavy work like a peasant, not small and