Rose of Hope by Mairi Norris

Author:Mairi Norris [Norris, Mairi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Medieval, conquest, post-conquest, Saxon, Knights, castle, norman
ISBN: 9781497526099
Amazon: B00JG8LVJ6
Barnesnoble: B00JG8LVJ6
Goodreads: 21857182
Publisher: Createspace
Published: 2014-03-31T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

In the stark silence that followed her impassioned cries, broken only by the falling water behind them, Fallard watched them both, taken aback by the intensity of all that passed between them. Moments after Ysane began to speak, Cynric went still, his lips pressed so tightly together they all but disappeared. So pale was his complexion the fierce brightness in his eyes appeared as green fire beneath the lock of hair that had fallen over his forehead.

When the halting words finally came, he sounded half-strangled. “Of what do you speak? Renouf was a hard man, but good. He would never have harmed you. I would never have left you with him if there were chance of such a thing. Nor is Ruald cruel. Why would you say such things?”

“Because they are true. Every word. I know not how you knew Renouf, but ’tis clear you knew him not so well as you thought. He was adept at hiding his true self, but I was married to him, Cynric, for three of the most terrible twelvemonths of my life. He was not a good man. He was evil, sly and cruel, and he hurt me. He hurt our people, too. If you believe naught else, believe that. They can tell you much, though I could tell you more.”

“Renouf hurt you? You say he killed your daughter, my…my…I had a niece from you, and Renouf killed her?” He seemed dazed, stricken at the thought.

“She was but ten seven-days from my womb, but he hated her. She was not the male-child he wanted, so he killed her.”

“What was her name, this niece of mine?”

“I…I named her Angelet.”

“Angelet. And Ruald? Why did he put you in the pits? Ysane, this you say makes no sense. Why did Ruald not face Renouf with this monstrous deed? Why would he have demanded your death?”

Her voice rose, become shrill. “You know not?”

Fallard narrowed his eyes.

She believes him not. Yet, methinks in this he speaks the truth.

Cynric ran a hand through his hair, then began to pace. “I know naught of this. Tell me.”

“Renouf was sotted. He murdered Angelet because she cried, then he tried to strangle me. We fought. He tripped and fell. I picked up his sword, stabbed him in the back, and he died.”

Cynric’s already pale face grew white as the tiny flowers in the copse. He ceased his pacing, his body rigid. “You killed Renouf? By the saints!” His eyes flickered to Fallard. “’Twas told to me you killed Renouf in the battle to take the hall. I thought you forced Ysane to wed soon after you took the burh. What say you of this matter?”

“That your informant lied,” Fallard said quietly. “’Tis truth I led the battle that resulted in Ruald’s capture, but ’twas three days earlier Ysane killed Renouf. ’Twas my First who shot her executioner even as he raised his knife to slit her throat. Ruald left her alone in the pit, one wrist chained to the wall like an animal.

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