The Sword and The Swan Read Free

greatly deserve, and, moreover, give you a young and beautiful wife to comfort your lonely estate."
    The person who spoke was not the king but the woman who sat beside him. No expression of surprise moved the watching men, although in general, it was the place of a woman to hold her tongue unless bidden by her male master to speak; but they knew that, if there were a ruler in England, Maud was that ruler.
    Her tone held no anger at what might well be considered an insult. It was pleasantly reasonable and suited her appearance, which was soft and matronly. Rannulf of Sleaford shifted his gaze to her, and while there was little change of expression on his hard face, the anger in his eyes lessened and the set of his lips softened somewhat.
    "Aye, I should have known. Every woman goes about to make every other woman in the world a wife, be it to the pleasure of the man so trapped or not." He waited while the burst of laughter that greeted his words died away, and spoke again more seriously. "Madam, you know, I made no secret of it, that I have no lust for the married state. I have heirs to my lands and need no more issue. As for the land—land is always good, but I have of that also sufficient for my needs. The title, any cur in the street is welcome to. I am Rannulf Tefli, master of Sleaford, and no title can lend me honor."
    No change marred the pleasant expression of the woman at this further insult, but she rose from her seat and edged around behind her son and daughter-by-marriage so that she could enter the space before the table in which Rannulf stood. As she approached, she held out her hand to him and a warm smile parted her lips.
    The gesture was graceful, surprisingly so, for one did not expect grace from that dumpy body, and the smile lit up a face which, without being ugly, was decidedly plain. There was no answering smile, but Rannulf took Maud's hand and kissed it with more eagerness than could have been expected from his angry words.
    "How foolish we all are to stand here. A good greeting to you, my good lord. You are welcome to us glad or angry, but it mends nothing and mars all to talk when you are thus cold and muddied from your long ride. Bid your men come to table and refresh themselves, and do you come with me. When my women have bathed you and you have filled your belly, it will be time enough to quarrel if we must."
    "I would have the matter settled without delay”
    "I too," Maud said softly, laying her hand on his arm, "but is this a fitting time or place? These are not matters of state for all men to speak their minds upon but private things."
    To a great extent Rannulf agreed with Maud and was already regretting the fury that had driven him to expose his affairs and the king's weakness in public. He glanced quickly at the table, hoping Stephen would redeem himself by some decision, but the king only smiled encouragingly at him. He might have stayed anyhow to prod Stephen, but Eustace, the king's eldest son, growled and started to rise and Rannulf quickly turned away.
    Eustace had never forgiven Rannulf for tearing him by force from a lost battle, and took every opportunity to insult his father's liege man. In his present temper, Rannulf could not trust himself to hold his tongue and, being too loyal a vassal to provoke his overlord's heir, sought safety in absence.
    His progress down the hall, however, was slow, for many men at the top of the room, great noblemen though they were, rose to greet Rannulf of Sleaford. Many of the greetings he acknowledged with no more than a curt nod, a few hands he pressed quickly—he was in no mood for civilities—but at the middle of the center table he stopped.
    "May I ask, Leicester, what you are doing in this fine company?"
    Before the heavy, deliberate man to whom the remark was addressed could answer another voice intervened. "Is that meant for me?"
    The retort was quick and hot in reply to the bitter sarcasm of Rannulf's tone, the voice clear and youthful.