Reckless (Age of Conquest #5) - Tamara Leigh Page 0,98

did they so quickly rise that their chairs scraped loudly as if to topple.

The usurper came. And alone. That was less expected than that this prisoner would be delivered to the hall this eve.

Vitalis stood, placed himself center of the cell, and waited. Though glad for the basin and towel bath that alleviated his stench, grateful for the comfort of clean and well-fitting garments, and well with razor and scissors that neatened his appearance, he hated that William might think this was done for him.

Regardless, it made Vitalis feel more human and caused him to smile at the realization his somewhat animal-like appearance had not discouraged the vixen in the least. Love, it seemed, did not discriminate.

Whether the guards were too in awe to speak or William gestured them to silence, no words passed between them.

Moments later, a face appeared in the grate.

Enough light entered the cell for William to see his captive but not well. He did not smile triumphant and, strangely, Vitalis was not surprised. Better able to see William’s face than his own could be viewed, he noted his adversary looked intrigued as if the caged one knew something he did not and wished to know it himself.

Then the pretender said, “Open the door.”

Again, not surprised. The Duke of Normandy, the conqueror, and he who called himself King of England had not made himself those things so he might cower on the safe side of a locked door.

Though the guards’ hesitation was barely perceptible, it earned them a growl. Then the door was unbolted and pushed inward, and just as here stood Vitalis without weapons on his belt, there stood William lacking a sword. Still, he was fit with a long dagger, and the guards on either side had drawn their swords.

It would be difficult to overwhelm all three, but not impossible. Impossible would be leaving Red Castle alive. Even if Vitalis made it to the hall, the enemy numbered too many and Nicola and her menfolk would be there. If the latter sought to aid him, they would be cut down as well.

William considered Vitalis from the hair atop his head, from one shoulder to the other, and down to his hosed feet. Then he looked left at the pallet and right at the basins in the back corner and boots near the door.

“Your new home is nearly as dim as a cave,” he said.

Vitalis laughed, more because of the arrogance that caused William to risk taunting his captive in the guard’s presence than because he found humor in remembrance of what had transpired that snow-laden day. But then, considering the character of the conqueror, the risk was minimal. Were Vitalis to speak of what was taken from William in the cave, easily these soldiers could be disposed of. And perhaps their king concluded that as well, for he also laughed.

“I am pleased this day was not long in coming, Vitalis of the Rebels of the Pale,” he said, “and that is a good thing for Sir Maël. Had he failed me, I would have to relieve him of his esteemed position.”

One which the chevalier would himself cast off, Vitalis thought and found some pleasure in knowing soon that D’Argent’s service would be lost to this man.

“There is something I would discuss with you privately,” William said.

Widening his stance, Vitalis crossed his arms over his chest. “Your audience is captive, King of the Normans.”

Anger flickered in William’s eyes, twitched at a corner of his mouth. He longed to assert he was also King of the Saxons, but as if he knew he would sound a boy denied one of many toys, he let it pass and said across his shoulder, “Leave us.”

“But my liege,” one protested, “this rebel is—”

“Weaponless before your king who is far from defenseless,” William snarled and jutted his chin. “Corridor’s end is far enough and speak between yourselves so you not listen in.”

Quickly, they strode opposite.

William looked around. “I trust now you know your place, Saxon.”

“I have always known my place, William of Normandy. It is the thieves from across the sea who neither acknowledge nor accept my place nor those of my countrymen.”

More flickering and twitching, then the usurper shrugged his mouth. “No different from your ancestors who came and took from the ones here before them.”

That argument was known to Vitalis, but this had been his home so long, the same as his sire and his sire’s sire, that a recounting of that other conquering was only words that had