Green Jasper Page 5

  “I love her more than you could possibly imagine,” said Gavin, every word of Will’s rasping his heart. “But you are wrong about people finding freedom through love alone. I don’t believe that can ever happen. People need more than love.”

  “More than your type of love.” Will’s voice was stinging. “If Ellie were betrothed to me, I would risk everything. You have never really cared for Ellie, not the way I do!”

  Gavin sat down again, his temper subsiding as quickly as it had risen. “So this is it, Will,” he said quietly. “You are not really bothered about Richard or John, are you? The fact is, you are in love with Ellie yourself.”

  The air crackled with hostility. Something that both had avoided saying—Gavin because he could see no point, and Will because he hardly knew the truth of it himself—was now out in the open and could never go unacknowledged again.

  Gavin broke the silence. “It’s not a surprise to me that you love Ellie,” he said. “And what is more, if Ellie were honest, I think she would admit that she loves you back.”

  “Ellie doesn’t love me,” said Will, almost stamping his foot. “She loves you. I can tell by the way she looks at you.”

  “She thinks she ought to love me,” replied Gavin. “She tries her best. Sometimes she persuades herself that she does. But it is an effort.”

  They stared at each other, and it was as if a physical barrier were rising between them. Both were grateful when, from the depths of the castle, the dogs, kicked out of their usual sleeping quarters, set up a melancholy howling and a voice called for somebody to take over at the well.

  Grinding his heel hard on some debris underfoot, Will went to answer the summons, but he could not resist a parting shot. “You are failing us, Gavin.” He threw the words over his shoulder. “Our father would not have been proud.”

  Gavin sat awhile, then got up and made his way blindly through the wreck of his inheritance.

  Outside the bakehouse he stumbled into Marissa and Marie. Marissa, nursing a guilty conscience, was immediately aggressive and stood in his way. “Will Eleanor be married to that other man by now? And if she is, what will happen to us?” she asked. Gavin stared at her, unable to answer, but Marissa pressed on. “Marie says the porter is to be punished, perhaps even hung, for letting those men in. But I told him to lower the drawbridge,” she said almost proudly. “It didn’t take much doing. He was drunk.”

  Marie made a mute gesture of pleading, and Gavin saw the terror on her face.

  He braced himself to speak. “The porter is a fool,” he said with a gesture of such weariness and sorrow that Marissa had to look away, “and we only hang criminals.”

  The girl was taken aback. She had expected physical punishment, and almost relished the idea. What she had not expected was a look that bit deeper than a belt. “Damn him,” she muttered as Gavin vanished into the smoke, making his way back toward the great hall. “And damn his Mistress Perfect, wherever she is.”

  When Marie remonstrated—begging her not to cause any more trouble, for the de Granvilles had been so kind to them—Marissa shook her off and wondered whether Will would be so forgiving when he found out.

  But Will already knew as much as he needed to about de Scabious’s easy entry. The porter was the man who had lowered the drawbridge, and Gavin should punish him. All Will cared about was getting Ellie back. Pulling rank over his brother for the first time in his life, he now called the entire Hartslove household to the great hall and addressed them himself while Gavin was forced to sit and watch.

  “I have sent my squire on foot to Keeper John,” Will announced. “He will provide the horses we need to mount an attack on de Scabious. Then a decision must be made. It is also possible that some of the loosed horses will return. Temporary stalls must be erected, and the castle reinforced. If the Count of Hartslove does decide to attempt to rescue Ellie …” The pause he left stabbed Gavin like a knife. “If he does, the castle may have to defend itself against the forces of a usurping king until our true king returns. Every man must work to his utmost. Now, let us prepare.”

  The knights muttered, and Will, having watched them all file out, walked straight past Gavin as if he did not even see him.

  4

  The waiting for horses was terrible, though there was plenty to do. Will and Gavin avoided each other, and when Gavin eventually collapsed with fever and lay, twitching and sweating, with the dogs, Will was relieved. The weather was clearing, and once Hal returned with fresh mounts, with Gavin out of the way Will would be able to direct things as he pleased. But where was Hal? Will fretted constantly.

  It was a cruel ten days before the squire staggered back in, bedraggled and footsore, to report that the stud was empty and that Keeper John had been forced to flee. Hal had scoured the country in search of mounts, but nobody would lend so much as a donkey to help the Hartslove cause. Piers de Scabious and his King John had been thorough.

  Will raged. Hal stood in silence.

  It was Gavin who first heard the noise and thought he was hallucinating. “Will?” he called out, dragging himself upright. “Will, what’s that?”

  Will listened for a moment, then rushed out. “Horses!” he cried from the doorway. “God be praised! The sentry’s shouting that it’s our horses. I knew it! They’re coming back!” He rushed out, and up the steps to the battlements. “Oh, look who’s at the front!” he yelled. “Hosanna is bringing them all home! Lower the drawbridge! Let them in!”

  The ground shook as the destriers clattered past, the steam from their flanks forming clouds in the freezing air. Some had minor cuts and bruises and their expressions were wild, but otherwise they seemed unharmed. They made straight for the old stables, but finding them gone, the horses were happy to be caught and put into the temporary stalls Will had organized. Hal seized both Dargent and Hosanna, and his grin nearly split his face.

  Hosanna had lost a shoe, but golden wedding threads were still hanging like bedraggled spiderwebs down his neck, and when Will rubbed the star between his eyes, he sneezed and shook his head, scattering small droplets of spittle.

  “Where have you been?” Will murmured, running his hands over familiar scars. He looked into his horse’s eyes wishing he could see in them where Ellie was. Hosanna did not blink. Will caught his breath, and suddenly his expression became very focused.

  Making sure both his horses were at the front of the queue for reshoeing, he quietly crossed the courtyard, blessing Hal for keeping both his horses’ saddlery not in the stables but tucked away in the bakehouse, where the squire sometimes liked to sleep. He slipped inside and found the twins warming their hands on the bread oven. Marie gave him a shy smile, but Will did not return it, simply asking if she and her sister could help him carry what he needed over to the other side of the courtyard.

  Marissa stepped out of the shadows. “We may be girls, and poor, not like rich Eleanor,” she said, “but we are not servants.”

  “And I don’t ask you as servants,” said Will, taken aback. “You are de Nevilles.” He looked straight at Marissa, and she blushed furiously. Before she knew it, her arms were full of leather and steel. Marie carried the blankets. “Can you manage?” asked Will anxiously. Now that the girls emerged into the light, he could see how thin and dirty they were and felt a little sorry for them. They looked completely lost.

  “Of course,” said Marissa. She knew that Will and Gavin had argued, and now thought to make something of it to her advantage. “I am scarred and limp, but I am not a cripple, unlike …”

  Although every fiber of his being was urging him to hurry, Will stopped dead in his tracks. “Unlike?”

  “Well, you know.”

  “No, I don’t know.”

  Marie tried to intervene. “Where shall we take all these things?” she ventured.

  “Nowhere,” Will said. All his pity vanished. He might find fault with Gavin, but others should not mock. He snatched Marie’s bundle and knocked everything Marissa was carrying onto the floor.
“If you had not mentioned your scar and your limp, I doubt I would have noticed either, just as nobody in battle notices that Gavin has only one arm,” he said coldly. “Your father was a brave man. Your remarks are not worthy of his name.”

  Using both arms and holding things between his teeth, he gathered everything up himself. The blankets were rough, and Will did not notice the ruby brooch become dislodged and fall to the ground as he strode away. He hurried to put Hosanna’s saddle and bridle behind the mounting block, and by the time he collected the horse from the farrier, he had recovered himself again. Marissa was a stupid girl, and he would avoid her in the future.

  “Now then, Hosanna,” he said, smoothing the red mane and forelock as he made his plans. The horse’s breath was like balm, and as it warmed his face Will knew exactly what he was going to do. Hosanna bent his head obediently to the bridle, and his flank quivered as Will quickly tightened the girth. The day was almost done, and he must hurry. Putting on a light hauberk, he tied his helmet to the back of the saddle and made his way across to the gatehouse, leading Hosanna behind him. He was ready. As he tucked himself and the horse into a recess in the wall and prepared to mount, to his intense irritation he suddenly found Marissa beside him again. He glared at her. What on earth did she want now?

  Above everything, Marissa wanted Will to think well of her. She had picked up the ruby brooch, which clearly meant a good deal to him, and instead of keeping it, which was what she wanted to do, had decided to bring it back as a peace offering. But now that she was here, she found herself paralyzed with fear. Hosanna’s head was so close, his teeth just a hair’s breadth away. Even though she was wide-awake, Marissa’s nightmares returned, and she found she could not breathe. Her legs began to buckle. Will watched her with increasing fury. The girl was nothing but a pest, and he was in such a hurry. But as she sank, floppy as a dead rabbit, there was little he could do except prop her up against Hosanna’s shoulder. He looked desperately about for Marie.

  Hosanna shifted and slowly turned. Marissa felt him move, shuddered, and began to whimper. The horse’s whiskers tickled her lips. Now she found her face reflected in wide eyes that seemed to draw her in. She shut her own and made to push him away, but when he lowered his head, she found herself instead touching the white star that so many before her had used as a charm, the soft whirl where the hair grew round instead of straight rubbing softly against her palm. She kept her hand still. Then very gingerly, as if unable to help herself, her fingers trickled down the horse’s long face, down his neck, over one deep scar, then over the deeper indentation that she found near his heart, and she sighed.

  Will stared at her, but could wait no longer. Gentler now, he eased her away, made sure she could stand alone, and swung himself into the saddle. He was already half-swallowed in a crowd of castle servants before the girl remembered why she had come and cried out, “Will! The brooch!” and held it up.

  But it was too late. “Keep it,” he called to her, and his smile lit her heart. “Keep it for Ellie!”

  She paused for a second, then stuffed the brooch into her belt. Keep it! Those words had been unmistakable. She chose not to think any further and slipped out of the recess to where she could hear Will arguing with the porter. She listened for a moment, then hugged herself, knowing what she must do.

  The porter was standing, his arms crossed. “Let down the drawbridge? On whose authority?” He felt within his rights to ask. “I would be needing the count’s permission. I’ve made one mistake. He will not be so lenient if I make another.”

  “I am the Earl of Ravensgarth.” Will’s voice was imperious. “I demand that you let the drawbridge down. Do as I say.”

  “Well,” said the porter, his red face beginning to sweat, “no.”

  “Do it.” Hosanna pawed the ground. He no longer looked gentle.

  The porter scratched his head. Then all of a sudden, as if of its own accord, the drawbridge began to creak. The porter gave a yowl of horror and rushed to the guardroom door. It was blocked. He shouted about ghosts and witches, but when he had hitched himself up to look through the window, he saw that his ghosts and witches were really a reluctant Marie and a determined Marissa, busy cranking the great chains round and round on their enormous wheel. Well oiled and supple, the machinery was not difficult for the two girls to work, and the drawbridge was soon more than halfway to the ground.

  The porter beat his fists against the wall. “Stop! Stop I tell you!”

  Will shouted with delight. “Hurry!” he urged. “Hurry, Marissa! If Gavin sees, he will try to stop me.” Even as he spoke, Alan Shortspur came running from the great hall calling again and again that Gavin ordered the drawbridge to be raised at once, for nobody was to either leave or enter without his permission.

  Summoning two soldiers to smash their way into the guardhouse, the porter was all ready to obey, but as the door gave way and Marissa and Marie fled up the steps onto the battlements, he was suddenly afflicted by doubts. Who was it best to serve: King Richard’s favorite earl or a count with one arm and a doubtful future? The drawbridge hung in midair. Hosanna waited. The porter thought quickly. The Count of Hartslove had the power to hang him. The Earl of Ravensgarth did not. That decided it. He would obey Gavin—for now. “Going up,” he shouted.

  Will hesitated for only a second, and in that second he found Hal on Dargent beside him. He shook his head, but Hal looked straight ahead. “You are not going anywhere without me,” he said. “I am your squire. We go together.”

  “Hal—”

  “If we’re going …”

  “Are you sure?”

  “If we’re going …”

  “Hold tight, then.”

  They took deep breaths, then, with one accord, pressed their spurs into the horses’ flanks.

  “Onward!” shouted Will as they galloped out of the gate. He flung his arm up to salute Marissa. “You are a de Neville after all!” he yelled, and she waved, feeling for the ruby brooch at her waist.

  As the two horses reached the base of the rising drawbridge there was a collective gasp from the crowd. Dargent hesitated slightly before following Hosanna straight up the ramp, both horses’ hooves scuffing against the greasy wood. As he reached the crest Dargent’s hocks gave way, but before he could slide backward, Hosanna pressed against him. Now he had no choice but to jump. The crowd gasped as he and Hosanna, every muscle tensed, leaped into the late afternoon sky, arching through the thin air like wingless gods making for heaven. Will and Hal flattened themselves over the horses’ necks. Behind them the shouting stopped, and Marissa and Marie clung to each other.

  At the top of the arc, Will’s blood froze. His mouth was open, but no sound emerged. Hanging between the black moat and the fading light, blinded by Hosanna’s gold-flecked mane, he thought, This is what it must feel like just before you die. Yet he did not feel any fear. It was not possible to feel anything at all, only a kind of timeless suspension. Hosanna’s front legs remained curled beneath him. There seemed no reason why he should ever drop.

  Then Will felt a rush of wind. Now he had a sense of speed, and fear suddenly gripped him. He could sense the water below, watchful and menacing, just waiting to pull him and Hosanna under. His heart lurched as they began to fall. Slowly, so slowly, impossibly slowly it seemed to Will, Hosanna’s shoulders opened. Now he stretched out like a diver, every sinew straining to reach the white drift that marked the slippery safety of the far side. Less than a foot to his right, Dargent was Hosanna’s shadow. The landing, when it came, was remarkably smooth. Will’s mouth opened wider as Hosanna’s front legs almost crumpled and his back quarters folded to propel him forward over the frozen ground. There were several untidy splashes as huge clods of ice-capped earth were tossed backward by the horses’ hooves. Then they were away, galloping toward the wood.

  When he could move again, Will glanced over his shoulder. Hal was still crouched over Dargent’s neck, his face the color of marble. Beads of sweat rolled down the horses’ f
lanks. Will felt a primeval surge of naked triumph. He wanted to roar. He was one of those ancient gods. With Hosanna he was invincible. He stood in his stirrups and punched the sky again and again. “My brave Hosanna!” he crowed, drunk with exhilaration. “My brave Hosanna!” He whooped at Hal as the horses, once again confident of their footing, increased their speed. “I have no idea where we are going,” Will shouted. “But I think Hosanna may.”

  Hal eased back in the saddle but still clung to Dargent’s mane. His hair was standing straight up on end, and despite his brain telling him over and over, “We’ve done it,” his heart remained in his mouth. He could not formulate any words, but gradually his terror subsided, and he whispered, “Thank you.” Dargent twitched his ears, then slowed down a little, allowing Hosanna to go in front. The big bay horse liked to set his compass by the red tail in front of him. Hal wiped his face on his sleeve. He hoped his mother, who cooked in the castle, had been watching; then as he relived the jump he changed his mind and hoped she had not.

  In the Hartslove courtyard it was several hours before the household stopped shaking their heads in disbelief. Gavin had the two girls brought down from the battlements, but once they were standing in front of him, he felt too ill to speak and sent them away. Soon he relapsed into delirium, and it was with difficulty that Alan Shortspur got him into bed.

  Much later that night when Marie heard his raving, she crept along to tend to him. His skin was mottled with fever, and he did not recognize her, only called again and again for Ellie.

  Marissa remained upstairs. She felt sorry for Gavin, but all she could really think about were Will’s brown eyes, her ruby brooch, and a luminous blood red horse.

  5