then occupied his mouth in draining the last of his cider instead of talking.
"Very wise."
"Christ's crown," Raoul exclaimed, "you can't pretend she's innocent! Not with a babe at the breast."
"No, I don't suppose I can."
Raoul opened his mouth, then shut it. "What are you going to do?"
"Want more pork?"
Raoul shook his head, both to the offer and at the situation. Suddenly, into the silence, a bird began to trill - the herald of the dawn chorus. Would Jehanne hear it and take it as the sign of first light?
Galeran threw the remains of the meat into the brush and led the way back to the camp.
Chapter 4
His father's men were fed and armed, and the horses saddled. A battering ram stood ready beside a ballesta that could hurl huge rocks at the walls.
All was ready to batter his home to rubble. Galeran went into the tent, where his relatives waited, mailed and ready. His arrival caused a sudden silence.
"I assume Lowick has few men of his own there," Galeran said.
"Aye." His father eyed him as he would an unpredictable and possibly ungovernable new war-horse. "Only five, I think. But we don't know how the allegiance of the others stands. They're mostly Heywood men and could count their allegiance toward old Fulk and his daughter rather than you."
"Nevertheless, I'm going in with just my men."
"God's breath, Galeran - "
Galeran cut his father off with a look. "I want this to be my rightful homecoming, not an armed invasion. If they cut me down, then do your worst."
His younger brother, Gilbert, was turning red in the face. "If they so much as scrape you, Galeran, I'll roast Lowick over a slow fire. That I vow! And as for that bitch - "
Galeran stopped him with a look too. "No one will touch Jehanne except me. No one."
"Fine," said Gilbert with a snarl, "but I want to watch!"
Before Galeran could respond to that, a man burst in. "My lords, the gates are opening!"
Thank God.
Galeran fought the need to collapse with relief and turned on his heel to sweep out like the vengeful lord and master he was supposed to be.
The woods clamored with bird song now, and the sun pinkened the rim of the sky, shooting the first bright rays up into the gloom. It was the first dawn chorus Galeran had heard since coming home, and despite everything, his heart swelled.
He looked toward Heywood, and even through the morning mist the sun touched the white walls gold, showing clearly the open castle gate and the uncertain dark beyond.
Today the walls were bare of people - soldiers or women.
He gestured for his horse, the simple gelding he'd bought in Stockton.
Raoul brought him over, along with his own mount.
"This is no business of yours," Galeran said. "My family is staying here to see if I'm spitted on sight. You could stay with them."
"Oh, I wouldn't miss this for a whole beam of the True Cross."
"I'm glad we're providing you with entertainment."
Galeran mounted and turned to his men, the small group who had returned with him from the Holy Land. "Remember, this is my castle, held by my wife. I expect to be welcomed. But we do not know for certain who holds the power in Heywood. If there's trouble, I want no heroics. Break free and return to the camp to serve under my father. He will avenge me."
There was a muttering of discontent, but Galeran said, "On your oaths, obey me."
Then he turned his horse toward his home.
Nothing moved. The castle appeared deserted - almost magically so in the dawn light and mist - but it couldn't be. With the encircling army drawn back, it was possible that a few people had slipped away, but not the whole garrison and population. Heywood normally held some fifty people.
He hoped that Lowick had gone. That was a good part of the reason for the delay in surrender. Having to kill the man would just complicate a complex situation.
Galeran's greatest fear was that Jehanne and his son had left with him.
He rode forward bareheaded again, so that no one could have any doubt that he was in truth Galeran of Heywood, lord of this demesne. So that no one could claim they fired on him by mistake.
No arrow hummed out of a narrow slit. No cross-bow bolt streaked to pierce him. Then he was before the walls, too close for that kind of attack.
His skin prickled as he clattered through the open gate and into