Shadows and Strongholds by Elizabeth Chadwick Page B

line to the Crown. What happens if his son Eustace takes all?'
    She was silent for a time. Then she said, 'You cannot change your allegiance. It is hard to ride two horses without falling between.'
    'Some do,' he said darkly. 'Some men have no difficulty in leaping from one saddle to another.'
    Sybilla traced his jaw with her forefinger. 'But not you. I well recall how long you dragged your conscience like a shackle when you renounced your oath to Stephen.'
    He didn't want to be reminded of that. Stephen had been his paymaster and had expected him to hold Ludlow against the Empress. But his loyalties had been strained even then, and his new wife had been an ardent supporter of a woman's right to inherit. In a way, his change of horse had been inevitable. 'I did not say I was going to renege my allegiance to Henry,' he answered a trifle testily. 'What I said was that I was gambling hard. I hope for our sake that Henry prevails. And as to men who leap saddles to their own advantage… if you were to ask me what troubled me the most, it is not knowing where Gilbert de Lacy stands in this broil.'
    Her finger stopped on the point of his chin and he heard her breathing catch, then resume. 'Gilbert de Lacy rides his own ambition,' she said. 'His loyalty is self-serving.'
    'I realise that. What I meant was that I do not know whether he will present himself in Carlisle, ride to join Stephen, or stay here and make trouble. Which strand will he choose? I doubt Carlisle, because Hugh of Wigmore is his closest ally and he is firmly for Stephen… but the other two is any guess. I am worried that he might make an attempt on Ludlow when I am not by to thwart him.'
    'You have left sufficient good men to guard the place,' Sybilla said, 'and I am no ninny. He will not have Ludlow from me.' Her voice, usually low-pitched and serene, now rang like a man's.
    Pride surged amidst Joscelin's anxiety. He had been warned when he married her that she was a handful. She might not storm and stamp like the Empress Matilda, but her will was forged of the same indomitable iron. She just went about achieving her goals in a different way. Honey instead of gall. 'I know that, love, and I have every faith in you and my men. But that still does not prevent my imagination from conjuring troubles out of wisps of smoke.'
    'Ludlow will be here when you return, every stick and stone. And so will your wife and daughters.' She leaned over to kiss him. 'I am counting on you to come home to me with your hide intact. You are not the only one to conjure troubles in the smoke.'
    'I can look after myself,' he said and cupped his hand at the back of her neck to feel the warmth of her skin and the coolness of her hair.
    'See that you do.' Her tone was husky, beguiling him into desire. As he moved with her and within her, Sybilla hid her face against his shoulder and tried unsuccessfully to forget that her first husband had told her not to worry as he made love to her on the eve before he rode away to be killed in a skirmish with the Welsh.
     
    Brunin was astonished when he saw Prince Henry. He had expected someone tall, imposing and of regal bearing. The reality was a stocky youth, whose eyes were on a level with Lord Joscelin's chest. His hair was lighter than copper and redder than gold and looked as if it hadn't been combed in a week. He had the fair, freckled complexion that accompanied such colouring, sandy lashes, and a pale grey gaze that was as sharp as a new sword. Although his clothes were embroidered and of the finest weaves and richest dyes, he wore them carelessly as if unaware and uncaring of their cost.
    The Prince paused in his energetic meeting and greeting of the supporters that were streaming steadily into Carlisle to drink a measure with Joscelin and FitzWarin. Brunin was given the task of pouring wine for their royal guest and Ins companion, a slender, serious-looking young man with fine mouse-brown hair and a sparse tawny beard. Serving from a flagon was