Handsome Sir Henry, a knight with no estate, is traveling north to visit his older brother when he stops for some rest and relaxation at an inn.

When he awakens the next morning, he discovers he's being watched by two ladies. One is astonishingly beautiful, the other is not. Being nude, Henry feels at a bit of a disadvantage, but being Henry, he acts as if he meets ladies while in bed and in the buff all the time. Assuming they're "tournament groupies" who've heard of his prowess in battle, he genially asks who they are and what they want.

The unattractive one pertly answers. (Imagine a resolute Leslie Caron.) She is Lady Mathilde and this is her sister, Lady Giselle. They require somebody capable of training and commanding their men-at-arms and are willing to pay accordingly. Her response is like a dash of cold water, but given the interesting presence of the lovely Giselle, Henry asks a few more questions. Mathilde reveals that while she and her sister grew up in France, her mother was English, and her father thought Magna Carta a great idea, as it put limits on the monarch's power. He gave up his French estates to his brother in return for his brother's English lands long before the king of France (recently) made the choice mandatory.

Their beloved father died recently and willed his estate to his daughters. Their garrison commander refused to take orders from a woman and abandoned them, leaving the women vulnerable to their cousin, Sir Roald de Sayres, who is disputing their father's will. They fear that not only will Roald take over their estate, he'll arrange marriages for them that are to his advantage, with no concern for their welfare. The sisters intend to fight for their rights (introducing one of Mathilde's prime motivations -- that the rule of law should be the guiding principle of government, not brute force).

Henry readily admits that he's met Roald de Sayres and hates the greedy little squint because of Roald's disgusting behavior at court. Because he does know Roald, he has a pretty good idea of what might happen to two women over whom he has control, especially one as beautiful as Giselle. Not only does he personally fear for their fate, it's a knight's duty to protect the weak. It doesn't hurt that they're offering a considerable sum of money (he's nearly broke and he's in no particular hurry to see his brother. While Mathilde is obviously a bossy shrew, he can avoid her and, hopefully, spend as much time as possible with Giselle.

Mathilde is excited by the agreement of Henry to help them, hopeful that they can overcome Roald's attempts to take control of Ecclesford, and very aware that Henry is a handsome, charming man. Although, given an experience in her past, she's very wary of handsome, charming men, she's almost giddy with joy, and happily gives Henry a run for his money in the banter department.

Giselle is not nearly as delighted as Mathilde with this "success." Surely they could have promoted one of the soldiers, like the competent Saxon, Cerdic, instead of hiring a stranger. Mathilde reminds her that while Roald may be a dishonorable lout, he's not an idiot, or without influence at court. He's kept close ties with the queen, for instance. Giselle points out they're related to Eleanor, too. Mathilde retorts that Roald and Eleanor are first cousins. They are second cousins to Eleanor, and their father was out of her favor when he died. They must have somebody with experience, and of sufficient rank and fame, as well as some family influence at court, to make Roald think twice about attacking their home.

Giselle reluctantly agrees, giving in to the persuasive Mathilde as she usually does, although she's the older sister. In fact, she's ceded control of the running of the household and estate to Mathilde. We later learn this isn't because she's so vain she spends all her time primping, or because she's lazy; she recognized how important being in charge is to Mathilde's well-being and self-esteem, and gave up that right, and a great deal of the respect that goes with it, because she loves her sister. Which isn't to say she doesn't voice her reservations; she does, and it's through Giselle's doubts that we see Mathilde's determination and learn of her past romantic entanglement that's left her bitter and disillusioned.

Upon their arrival at Ecclesford, Henry discovers that the sharp-tongued, witty and vivacious Mathilde is very much in charge of every aspect of life in the castle. She's like a combination chatelaine, steward and garrison commander all rolled into one. Naturally, this makes her seem less than the ideal of medieval femininity, but Henry likes intelligent, determined women. They're so much more spirited and passionate. He's already started to wonder what sort of lover Mathilde would be, but at this point, still has his romantic sights set on Giselle.

Henry goes out of his way to be charming to Giselle, which doesn't endear him to Mathilde. Although she wasn't above using Giselle as bait to get Henry there, she definitely doesn't want Henry seducing her sister. Giselle assures her she's not about to fall for a man like Henry, who may be handsome and charming, but also probably a cad who enjoys the chase, then drops the woman as soon as he's won her. She falls silent when she sees Mathilde's expression, guility recalling that this is exactly what happened to Mathilde a few years ago.

Naturally, Mathilde is relieved that Giselle isn't likely to fall for Henry's charm. While she's not happy about her own foolishness when it came to a smooth-talking young man, she's glad to think some good might have come out of it, if that experience makes them both less likely to be fooled again.

Henry soon realizes that while Giselle is beautiful, she's also rather...boring. It's also dawning on him that Giselle's aloof attitude is no act to intrigue him. She really isn't interested.

Henry isn't the sort to see that as a challenge. If a woman's clearly not interested in him, he leaves her alone. Also, he's realizing that the busy little body, Mathilde, is more interesting (and shapely) than he realized. He's impressed with Mathilde's leadership, and the obvious affection the soldiers and servants have for her. Indeed, she reminds him of some of the better commanders he knows, such as Sir Leonard de Brissy who trained him in his youth, and his friend, Ranulf, now commander of the garrison of Tregellas. He wonders if he can be as good a leader, and becomes to determined to prove that he can, both to bolster his own self-esteem that has suffered over the years by comparisons to his older brother, and to show that he's more than "just a pretty face."

The soldiers Henry is supposed to train are skeptical and wary of the knight. Famous he may be, but as Cerdic puts it, he's surely too pretty to be any good.

The maidservants, meanwhile, are all in a flutter. He's so handsome! So manly! And my, doesn't he have broad shoulders? Mathilde finds this irritating, and gives them all a good talking-to about how to behave and the weakness of the flesh, etc. Whether or not some of the younger maidservants pay attention remains to be seen.

Mathilde decides to ensure that her money's not going to waste by checking out one of the first drills. She's pleased by what she sees, and tries to ignore the sight of a half-naked Henry demonstrating sword play. She was so sure she was proof against the lust inspired by a handsome man...clearly, she may not be quite as strong as she thought she was. She is, nevertheless, determined to keep their relationship "strictly business."

Henry thinks the garrison has a lot of potential, and discovers that he enjoys teaching them the finer points of swordfighting, defense, etc. He never quite believed Ranulf when he sa id he liked being garrison commander; now he can. Cerdic and the other men begin to realize that Henry knows what he's talking about, and he has some valuable experience they can benefit from.

Despite the fact that autumn is a very busy time on the estate, what with trenching and ditching the fields, repairing walls, cleaning privies and spreading manure, fattening animals to be slaughtered, gathering nuts, berries and fruit, threshing, sowing the winter grain, and gathering rushes, Mathilde finds the tgime to wander by another drill session. She happens to be on the wall walk during another. And another time, she has to come by another to ask Henry a question about weapons.

It's becoming clear that Henry's not just managing to teach her men how to fight, he's making them a cohesive unit, inspiring them to their best efforts and making it enjoyable in the process. He has a real talent for leadership, and the men's grudging acceptance is developing into genuine respect and even affection. For instance, he's completely won over Cerdic, whom he's made his second-in-command.

Mathilde gives credit where credit is due, and Henry's delighted with her praise. It's becoming clear that her wariness has altered into respect, at least. And perhaps something more? Although Mathilde tries to keep the discussion to business and politics, when Henry turns on the seductive charm, he's almost irresistible, and he wants to find out just what her feelings for him might be. He's pleasantly surprised -- until Mathilde remembers the last time she let a man sweet-talk her. Defensive and angry with both herself and Henry, she tells him she knows the sort of man he is, and he's getting nowhere with her.

Henry is gobsmacked by her abrupt change of manner, her rejection and her accusations, even though he quickly suspects that her attitude is based not on him, but her past history. What cad does have to "thank" for this? This enables him to keep his temper under control, and react with more calm, but he does give her to understand that if he finds her attractive, it's because she is.

Mathilde finds it very hard to believe that a man (and especially one like Henry) would ever find her attractive. He must have an ulterior motive. He's obviously not wealthy, nor does he possess an estate, while her dowry will be considerable if they can keep Roald at bay. Perhaps he was trying to seduce her to force her to marry him. She vows to be far more careful in the future...although surely Henry got the message and will stay away from her, and her sister.

Henry has been staying away from Giselle but, being something of an expert in clandestine relationships, he thinks she's up to something she doesn't want her sister to know about. Maybe she's got a lover? Henry suggests.

Mathilde claims he's just making this up as a means to upset her. Giselle would never keep important secrets from her. She leaves in a huff. She's tempted to send him packing, but thinks they need him too much to go that far. As for Henry, he's upset by his mistrust (especially given what happened with his friends, although he doesn't say that to Mathilde), yet he feels bound by his duty to protect the weak and to help his friends (which now includes the garrison) and to prove her wrong -- he is trustworthy. And he gave his word to Mathilde that he'd help her defeat Roald.

Wanting some answers, Henry goes drinking with Cerdic. He tries to find out what happened to Mathilde that's given her such a sour view about men, as well as the nature of the relationship between the sisters. He also wants to know if Giselle is deserving of Mathilde's trust, because he's convinced that Giselle is keeping something from her sister.

Cerdic tells Henry that yes, Mathilde was in love once, and it ended badly. More than that, he won't say; that's Mathilde's business. He confirms that Giselle loves her sister and that all believe she'll never betray Mathilde. Relieved about Giselle, and wondering why Cerdic won't say more about Mathilde's romantic history, Henry gets more than a little drunk himself, and winds up revealing some things about his own past. The serving wenches are very friendly and the men wind up staying the night and availing themselves of more than the wine.

Later, when Mathilde finds out where they were and suspects what they did, she's annoyed to think they were so weak, but not overly upset. After all, Henry and Cerdic are grown men, and she's not their wife or mother. Then Cerdic tells her (and Giselle) what he's learned about Henry. Mathilde can sympathize with his feelings of jealousy for his older brother, who's been so successful (he has an estate in Scotland and is very happily married). She also learns Henry was falsely accused of treachery by his closest friend, something that still bothers him a great deal. She's relieved to think that the accusations proved to be unfounded, and to learn that Henry believes very strongly in his knightly vows of loyalty to his friend, and to protect the weak and helpless. She wants to believe that he's deserving of her trust, although given how sympathetic Giselle was to Cerdic's tales about Henry's past, and that she was more upset about the wenching than Mathilde, Mathilde begins to wonder if there is, indeed, something between Giselle and Henry. But if so, why would Henry have warned her about Giselle's "suspicious" behavior? Confused and uncertain, believing they still need Henry's help, she tells herself she'll just keep careful watch on Henry, while maintaining her distance.

Henry receives a message from his older brother, Nicholas, who basically demands to know what the devil Henry thinks he's doing. He should leave at once, and let the queen's relatives sort out their troubles on their own. (What Nicholas doesn't say, but that Henry knows full well, is that Nicholas hates Eleanor and thinks she's influencing her husband the king in a way that's going to end in rebellion, as it eventually does.)

In one sense, Henry knows Nicholas is right, and deep down, appreciates that his brother is concerned for him. However, he hates being talked to as if he's ten years old and stupid to boot. He sends Nicholas a rather chilly missive thanking him for his concern, but assures him he knows what he's doing.

This incident gives Mathilde even more insight into Henry's relationship with his brother, and a sense of Henry's need for independence. Henry's also got serious sibling envy, something Mathilde can relate to.

One night, Mathilde discovers that Giselle's not in her bed. Worried that her sister has succumbed to Henry's charms after all, remembering the excitement she felt when she believed herself in love and the power of that emotion, sure Henry could inspire that in any woman, feeling guilty for bringing him to Ecclesford and sorry she couldn't make Giselle better understand the risks through her bad example, she sets out to find Giselle. Instead, she encounters Henry, who claims he couldn't sleep, saw Giselle skulking about, and tried to follow her. He lost her in the shadows.

Disappointed and upset to think Henry was untrustworthy after all, and that she didn't protect her sister well enough, Mathilde accuses him of having nefarious designs on both her and her sister. If he's already seduced Giselle, he'll regret it!

Henry makes it very clear that he's not at all pleased that she thinks he'd do such a thing. He's an honorable knight.

If he's so honorable, Mathilde counters, why was his friend so quick to accuse him of betrayal?

She's hit upon a very sensitive point with Henry, because he was very upset that his friend had so little faith in him. He's even more upset that she's thrown that in his face and basically accused him again.

His dismay and anger turns to self-defense. He tells her what he did and why, and demands to know why she thinks he's untrustworthy? He's given her no cause to think so, or is it just because he's a man -- and a man she obviously wants, even if she won't admit it to herself? Hasn't he shown that he's honorable by staying away from her, even though he's well aware that he could probably seduce her with very little effort?

Shocked, dismayed (because she knows he's right), Mathilde strikes back. Clearly there must be some reason his friends were so quick to accuse him, and she wouldn't sleep with him if he begged her!

If she thinks he's such a base villain, why is he still there? Maybe he should leave. Then he won't have to endure her checking up on him all the time. Maybe she should just take over anyway! She's more of a man than some of his men!

This last point really hits Mathilde hard. She retorts that he's obviously just a vain, lustful lout who clearly expects every woman to swoon over him. If they don't, he bolsters his pricked pride by claiming they're unnatural, not that they're clever enough to see through his empty words and promises.

If she's so clever, he retorts, how come she hasn't figured out what's going on with Giselle? Who was she sneaking off to meet? It certainly wasn't him. In fact, if he was going to sneak off to rendezvoux with anyone... He kisses Mathilde passionately, rendering her stunned and speechless and undeniably excited -- although she's angry, too. Who does he think he is? What's he trying to do? Does she look like a weak, stupid woman?

Beneath Mathilde's anger and indignation, she's afraid of Henry -- and her own weakness. She fell afoul of one man, she won't do that again, no matter how tempting he may be.

Kissing her, Henry realizes several things. First, she's not immediately pushing him away. Secondly, he should be sympathetic to her history, not casting it up to her, even if Mathilde has cast his up to him. He should take the higher road. He remembers his agreement to help her, and his vow to protect the weak, and that Roald is a nasty piece of work. However Mathilde makes him feel -- the good and the bad -- that is what's important. No matter how she feels about him, he must protect her from Roald.

Immediately after the kiss, Mathilde "fires" Henry. Rather than tell her why he really thinks he should stay (that she needs his help), he instead makes it about the money. He demands his full payment, since it's her decision to break their contract.

He must be mad, because there's no way she's going to pay him the full amount.

As Henry continues to demand full payment and reminds her of what she said when she hired him, Mathilde realizes she could be putting her sister and her people in jeopardy by forcing Henry to leave. Surely, surely she can control her wayward emotions, especially now, knowing that she is susceptible to the desire he inspires. She continues to refuse to pay, telling him that if he wants full payment, he'll have to stay after all.

Henry realizes this is a concession on her part, and accepts it. He'll stay, but he'll never come near her.

And where was Giselle? She's with Cerdic. It becomes clear that their relationship is an intimate one, although just how intimate and for what purpose remains unclear. What is clear is that Cerdic has come to respect and admire Henry as a fight er, but he's wary of his motives. Giselle shares his suspicions, and agrees that Henry's not to be trusted. She fears Mathilde's being swayed by his charm and good looks, in spite of what happened before.

Mathilde asks her sister about her absense, and Giselle gives her a plausible explanation -- one that certainly has nothing to do with Henry.

Roald arrives. He's shocked and enraged to learn that his cousins are refusing to allow him to even enter Ecclesford, and who they have helping them. Do they not know that Henry's a liar and dishonorable rogue? Henry replies that Roald's the liar and dishonorable rogue, and more of the incident at court comes out. Henry prevented Roald from raping a serving woman. Roald counters by claiming that Henry was clearly sneaking about the castle for some nefarious activity of his own; he's hardly got any right to claim the higher moral ground.

Mathilde doesn't care what Henry was doing; she can well believe he was going to meet a lover. What's more important, and what she believes, is that Roald was attempting to force a woman, and Henry stopped him.

When Roald realizes she's not backing down, he asks her what inducements they've offered Henry for his help. Henry retorts that he'd do it for free.

Then Roald asks Henry if he's aware of his past relationship with Mathilde. The woman's just out for vengeance. She threw herself at Roald and (as one man of the world to another), he didn't rebuff her advances. But the silly woman thought he'd marry her. When she realized her seductive tricks didn't work, she was angry. This little trouble is just the act of a woman scorned.

Henry is gobsmacked. Roald is the cad who broke Mathilde's heart and gave her such a bitter view of men? And she didn't tell him? Because she was too humiliated, Mathilde confesses, trying to hide how upset she is that this has come out, and sure she's completely fallen in Henry's estimation. But it shouldn't matter. She's right under the law and Roald should not get Ecclesford; that's the important thing.

Henry agrees that she's right, but he's still shocked and wondering what else Mathilde isn't telling him. He's also wondering just how intimate she was with Roald; he makes it sound very intimate, but he's a liar. And does he really want to know? When Roald realizes this latest tactic didn't work and Henry's not giving up command, he tells them that if they continue this defiance, he'll go to the king, who will surely take his side. The women will lose their right to Ecclesford and their "unnatural" independence, and he'll make sure Henry will never get an estate.

Alas for Roald, these threats only make Henry more determined to defeat him, and he's not the only one having that reaction.

After Roald and his men leave, Henry confronts Mathilde. Is there anything else he ought to know? Like what, all the sordid details? she demands. Yes, she made love with Roald. He made her believe he loved her and wanted to marry her. Once he deflowered her, he laughed in her face and told her she must be mad to think he'd ever marry a woman as homely as she. Beneath her angry defiance, she's full of shame and feels almost as humiliated as she did when Roald laughed at her and said those hateful words, because she's sure Henry will think she's not just stupid, but immoral.

In fact, Henry's thinking Roald is the worst piece of dung on the planet. To be sure, Henry's no model of male continence -- he was, indeed, on his way to meet a lover when he came upon Roald -- but his relationships with women have been honest ones. They knew he wasn't offering marriage or even love. He would never seduce a woman just to see if he could. And he certainly would never say anything so cruel. He'd gladly slice Roald in two just for that heartless remark.

Mathilde is grateful for his words, but believes that in his heart, Henry must think less of her. And she doesn't want his pity. She wants the respect she's sure she's lost, and his admiration -- just how much, she only appreciates now that she's sure she's lost all chance of that.

Nor will he ever kiss her again. She tells herself that shouldn't be so troubling; she should be relieved, especially since Henry seems more determined than ever to whip her men into a fine military force.

Roald goes to court, where he complains to Queen Eleanor about what's going on at Ecclesford. Eleanor tells him there's only so much she can do, and she's got more important matters (like bringing about the marriage of her sister to the king's brother) to consider than Roald's trouble with his female relatives. The king agrees that Giselle and Mathilde should be subject to their cousin's commands, as the nobles should be subject to him, Magna Carta notwithstanding. Although this isn't quite the enthusiastic response Roald hoped for, he does feel he has the king's permission to get Ecclesfod back any way he can.

Henry throws himself into the training not just to defeat Roald, but to exhaust himself, so that he can fall asleep without thinking about Mathilde. And fantasizing about making love with her. He know has to add jealousy to his feelings for Roald.

One of Henry's best friends, Ranulf, arrives. He and Henry's other close friend (Merrick) have heard about Henry's latest "adventure" and are also wondering what he's up to, given his feelings regarding the queen. He also tells Henry how things are with Merrick, and rebuffs Henry's questions about a certain young lady named Beatrice.

Trying to act "normal," Henry assures him that he knows what he's doing; after all, Ranulf is Merrick's garrison commander. If it's not beneath Ranulf, why should it be beneath Henry? Or doesn't he think Henry can do as good a job? Henry explains the situation with Roald, who Ranulf knows by reputation. He doesn't fault Henry for wanting to help the two laides, but Ranulf is sure it's more than that and isn't fooled by Henry's act. He assumes Giselle is involved, until Henry makes it clear that's not the case. Ranulf then realizes Henry's attracted to the vivacious younger sister. That isn't so surprising; what is surprising is that Henry is trying to pretend otherwise. Granted he's not got an estate, but that seems a small problem given Mathilde's dowry, so if the attraction is mutual --

It's not, Henry replies. Ranulf doesn't buy this for a moment. He's sure Henry's very interested in Mathilde, and in his opinion, Mathilde likes Henry, no matter how aloof she's acting.

More troublesome, though, is this business with Roald, which could have dire consequences for Henry. Has he thought this through, or was he swayed by his need to help women in distress? If he was also tempted by Giselle, Ranulf can't blame him.

Once again, Henry feels as if he's being talked to like a child and replies that he won't need them to ride to his rescue. The men under his command are up to the task.

Ranulf tries to suggest it might be more complicated than that. He could be making an enemy of the king and queen, too, which could have consequences for his brother, as well. He should know that Roald will likely stop at nothing to get Ecclesford, whether by legitimate means or foul. He could actually be making things worse for the women.

What's he supposed to do? Henry charges. Let Roald win and do what he wants with Mathilde and Giselle? Nicholas can always claim Henry acted without his approval (which is true). Nor will he involve Merrick or Ranulf.

Ranulf didn't mean to anger Henry, but to be certain he understood the potential complications. Nevertheless, they wind up saying things they shouldn't, dredging up incidents from the past, and quarreling. Ranulf leaves Ecclesford.

Mathilde tries to find out what happened, but Henry isn't talking. She does appreciate the seriousness of this breech argument, since Ranulf has told her about their oath of brotherhood and their friendship and more of what happened when Henry's friend believed he'd betrayed them. She realizes she's putting Henry in a very tricky spot, one that could cost him his family, his friends and, depending on what Roald decides to do, possibly his life. Although she feels guilty for involving Henry in her trouble, she comforts herself by saying he could have refused their initial offer. She also resolves to treat him with respect and gratitude, while keeping her distance.

Henry becomes more serious and more grimly determined to succeed than he's ever been in his life. He's got to save the women from Roald and prove himself to his brother and his friends.

Giselle and Cerdic appreciate that things have gotten even more serious and complicated. Perhaps Cerdic should try to convince Henry to leave. This attempt goes nowhere, but then, Cerdic doesn't really give it much effort.

Back in London, Roald hires himself a henchman. Sir Guy de Mallemaison, a well-trained, battle-hardened knight, is an evil man who'll do anything for money.

As part of the All Hallow's Eve festivities at Ecclesford, Henry arranges a tournament among the men of the garrison, as a means to demonstrate and reward what they've learned. This goes very well indeed, and it's hard to say who's more pleased, Henry or Mathilde. During the festivities, Mathilde and Henry wind up alone. Mathilde tells Henry how pleased and impressed she is by the work he's done with the men. Henry is pleased by her comments, and reveals that he admires and respects the way she leads the household.

This is so obviously sincere, Mathilde begins to hope that he's able to overlook her relationship with Roald. In fact, the only thing Henry's thinking about is how much he wants to kiss Mathilde again.

He's not doing a very good job of hiding his desire, and Mathilde is surprised, flattered and excited -- albeit still wary. Maybe he assumes she's a "loose woman."

But then, she's already lost her virtue...and he's so very tempting... They wind up kissing and caressing and making love. Afterward, Henry knows that what he feels for Mathilde is more than lust, more than the need to protect someone who needs his held. He admires her, he likes her. For the first time in his life, he believes he's met a woman he could marry...except that he has nothing to offer her except his sword arm.

Mathilde isn't sorry she made love with Henry. She's glad she gave in to her passion, even if he'll never marry her. After all, she's homely, she's immoral, he could have his choice of a hundred rich, beautiful brides.

Guy de Mallemaison was among the crowd at the All Hallow's Eve tournament and reports back to Roald. The garrison of Ecclesford is going to be a tougher force to fight than Roald led him to believe. He's going to need more money. In fact, money's not going to be enough. He wants Giselle, too. At least, a taste of her before Roald does what he likes with her.

Guy's report frightens Roald, even as he tries to tell himself Guy's probably exaggerating to get more money. On the other hand, Henry's not going to be easy to defeat. Roald agrees to Guy's demands and marches on Ecclesford.

Henry sees Giselle and Cerdic together and realizes that their relationship is probably similar to the one he's now got with Mathilde. He's surprised, and wonders if it's simply a matter of two young people in love, or something more sinister. After all, Giselle's rich and her husband could control Ecclesford.

But then, isn't that what he fears people will say he's only after Mathilde for money and power? After another intimate encounter, he tells Mathilde. She's taken aback, but refuses to believe there's anything to fear from Giselle.

Henry decides to confront Cerdic, who he now considers a friend. But before he gets into the delicate matter of Cerdic's relationship with Giselle, word comes that Roald's returned with a huge army, led by a man named Guy de Mallemaison. Henry's heard of him, and he feels the first real fear he's experienced since he arrived at Ecclesford. But it's not fear for himself so much as fear for the women and the garrison. If Roald is desperate enough to hire a man like Guy, who knows what vengeance he'll exact from those who dared to defy him? And if Mathilde and Giselle are captured by Guy...

A worried Henry suggests that Mathilde and Giselle leave Ecclesford. Mathilde refuses; she won't abandon her home and the men who are fighting for her -- but she thinks Henry's done enough. Now he should go. This was never really his fight.

Yes, it is. He feels as responsible as Mathilde for this situation; perhaps if he wasn't there, Roald wouldn't have hired Guy. Also, he agrees with her that the rule of law should triumph over brute force. He also cannot ignore his knightly oath to protect the weak -- even if Mathilde is one of the strongest people he's ever met. In any case, he's not about to leave her in this hour of need.

Thrilled by his words, relieved that he'll stay, yet also very concerned for his safety, Mathilde respects his decision. Giselle, however, should definitely go. She refuses, too. She'll stand by her sister, and Cerdic, whom she loves and wants to marry. She hasn't said anything to Mathilde because she feared Mathilde wouldn't approve, since Cerdic isn't nobly born. Mathilde says that if they all come out of this alive, Giselle should marry whoever she likes. She wants her sister to be happy, and Cerdic will be a fine and loving husband. This also gives them yet more reason to triumph over Roald.

What if the king disagrees, and takes Ecclesford away from her? Henry asks. This is, unfortunately, a very real possibility if she marries without the king's permission. Mathilde says it's better to be happy than miserably married. Henry agrees. He wants to marry for love, and he hopes --

An alarm sounds. Roald and his (considerably larger) army have arrived and are forming siege lines outside the castle. Guy, in full battle dress, rides up to the gate and delivers an ultimatum: the sisters must surrender Ecclesford and submit to their cousin's authority, or lose everything and see their pitiful band of soldiers slaughtered. If this was intended to scare either Mathilde or the garrison into giving up, it has the exact opposite effect. The men of Ecclesford are more determined to fight Roald than ever, and if Mathilde is afraid, it's not for herself.

Henry knows they're going to have to fight or be starved out, and makes plans to attack. Mathilde goes to Cerdic and begs him to take Giselle out of Ecclesford, but he tells Mathilde that would be useless. Giselle won't go if she won't. Has she changed her mind? Mathilde can't leave.

She goes to Henry. He may be killed tomorrow, and in some ways, she wishes she'd never heard of him, or gone to that tavern. Henry isn't sorry. He's glad she did, or he would never have met her. They make love, and the next day Henry prepares for battle.

During the fierce fighting, Henry;s seriously wounded fighting Guy, while Guy escapes unscathed. Henry's left eye is destroyed, his face terribly scarred, his left arm all but useless. Mathilde is grief-stricken, and again blames herself. Other men besides Henry have been seriously wounded, and a few have died. Mathilde decides this can't go on. She goes alone to Roald's camp, to sue for peace. He can have Ecclesford if he allows the garrison, Giselle and herself to leave in peace. They'll leave everything in the castle except their clothes.

Not good enough, Roald retorts, pleased and smugly satisfied by this turn of events. Just how desperate is she to end the fighting?

She has nothing more to offer, she replies.

She certainly does. He hasn't forgotten making love with her. Mathilde retorts that he found her homely; why would he want her? Oh, it wouldn't be him, although he might decide to join the fun. He calls for Guy.

Desperate to save her family, her lover and her people, her head held high, Mathilde starts to disrobe.

Later, Roald orders Guy to "get that whore" out of his tent. He shoves a naked Mathilde outside, for all the encamped soldiers to see. Oh, and by the way...they're attacking tomorrow and they're going to win, and then both Mathilde and her sister will regret their unnatural defiance.

Knowing that she's failed, that Roald will attack anyway, that she's debased herself and made herself as good as a whore for nothing, Mathilde neverthless valiantly struggles to her feet. One of Roald's soldiers, dressed in the manner of a Scot, rushes to her with a blanket, wrapping it around her slender shoulders. He says nothing, but it's clear he's disgusted with his commander's action. (And for those who've read BRIDE OF LOCHBARR, that's Lachlann.)

Guy orders him to back off, but the soldier gives him such a look, Guy retreats into the tent. The other soldiers in the camp turn away, affording Mathilde some dignity.

Of course it's obvious to everyone in Ecclesford that something terrible has happened. Giselle gently, delicately, tends to her sister, and hears the whole sordid story. Mathilde begs her not to tell the wounded Henry, and Giselle agrees.

Roused to fury, the garrison of Ecclesford are even more determined to beat Roald's men, especially Guy.

That night, Mathilde goes to see Henry, hoping for an improvement. Henry is conscious and while ignorant of what's happened to Mathilde, knows the extent of his own wounds. He's disfigured, his arm is useless...he's useless. He's sure she won't want him now. Mathilde is equally sure he won't want her, once he learns what's happened.

Both convinced any future between them is hopeless, they try to act as if things are relatively normal. However, Mathilde's so traumatized, it dawns on Henry that something terrible has happened. He demands to know what, and becomes so aggitated, she tells him that she went to see Roald to sue for peace, and failed.

Henry senses that there's a lot more to it than that. What did Roald do? Please, won't she tell him? Unable to hold back her tears, full of shame, believing any hope of a life with Henry is lost, Mathilde reveals that both Guy and Roald took her.

Henry is furious beyond anything he's ever felt before. Death is too good for that bastard, he cries, starting to get out of bed.

Distraught, upset, she begs Henry not to fight. She doesn't want his death adding to her regrets. She's discovered the capable, trustworthy, admirable man behind the handsome, charming mask. She loves him.

If she does, he says, calming down a little in the face of her distress, then he must let her fight. If he's got to die, let him perish as a knight should, defending his lady. He'll win back her honor, and gladly punish the men who hurt her. Won't she let him have this chance?

And if his death ensures her freedom, he's willing to make that sacrifice. He loves the vivacious, intelligent, resourceful, resolute Mathilde. Then, being Henry, he tries to lighten the mood and reassures her that he has no intention of dying now that he knows how Mathilde feels about him.

Mathilde and Giselle try to subdue their terror for the men they love by tending to the men already wounded, and preparing to help others.

The garrison are thrilled when Henry appears to lead them, his visor lowered to hide his face, his left arm surreptiously strapped into place holding his shield. His voice is undamaged, and he wastes no time issuing orders and taunting Roald, Guy and their men from the wall walk.

Guy in particular is shocked, then enraged; he was sure he'd killed Henry. But two can play at this game. He shouts back that Mathilde was sweet to taste. Henry retorts that it was a good thing he had such a tender morsel, since that meal will be his last. Henry immediately orders his men to the gates. They're taking the battle to Roald.

Fierce fighting ensues. Henry makes his way to Guy and, after a tough struggle, kills him. Then he seeks out Raold, who's hiding in his tent. Roald runs out, calling for his guard. Led by the Scot, they all, to a man, turn their backs and walk away, leaving Roald to fight Henry alone. Even wounded, Henry's ten times the warrior Raold is, and Roald dies.

Cerdic joins Henry as Roald's army takes flight.

Giselle sends word that Mathilde's been wounded. She went to the battlements to help bring down the wounded men and was struck by an arrow. Not knowing if she's alive or dead, Henry hurries back to the castle. She's hurt, but in no danger of dying -- a fact made clear when she throws herself into Henry's arms (or arm, as the left one is still strapped in place).

Before they can enjoy their triumph, news comes that two other armies are approaching, one from the north that seems to be lead by a Scot, and one from the west, lead by a Cornish nobleman. A relieved Mathilde believes she knows who it is. She sent word to Henry's brother after he was wounded, and to Lord Merrick of Cornwall, as well.

After a joyous reunion with assurances that Henry's in no danger of dying, his brother and friends immediately realize that there's more bothering Henry than his wounds and ruined face, and it's got absolutely nothing to do with Mathilde's experience with Roald and Guy -- except for his guilt that he wasn't able to protect her and prevent her heroic sacrifice. Ranulf manages to get Henry to admit that his fears and doubts. Henry doesn't think he should offer marriage to Mathilde, because he's a ruin of a man.

Ranulf thinks Mathilde's a finer woman than that, and what Henry's more likely doing is making her feel ashamed and guilty. He should talk to her, at least, and try to gauge her feelings instead of making assumptions. Henry agrees, and discovers that Ranulf is right; Mathilde's been interpreting his actions with shame and guilt, believing that he doesn't want to have anything more to do with her because of what happened with Roald and Guy. Henry quickly assures her that he still loves her, but he's worse than poor now.

Starting to hope, Mathilde reminds him of her dowry?

But will she marry him, now that he's got this ruined face and useless arm?

She certainly will. She loves his clever mind, his wise leadership, his amusing chatter. Those aren't changed. But can he forget about what happened with Roald and Guy?

Perhaps not forget, but he doesn't believe her weak or shameful. He admires her even more -- her courage to go to them, her spirit of self-sacrifice, her dignity despite their attempts to humiliate her. How could he feel anything but admiration for her -- although he's sorry he didn't fight with more skill the first time he encountered Guy, so that her act of bravery and selflessness wasn't necessary.

He blames himself? she asks with disbelief. After all he did to help them, including nearly getting killed?

Is that any worse for the blame she's taking on herself, for the acts of depraved, vile men? As she didn't stop loving him when he was wounded, he didn't stop loving her after what happened in Roald's camp. He assures her he would be proud to have her for his wife, if she would give him that honor.

Mathilde is overwhelmed with joy, and while it's obvious there's still some healing for her to do when Henry takes her in his arms, his gentle kisses are a good beginning.

Unfortunately, there's still a possible impediment to their marriage. Since Mathilde is a lady, they'll need the king's permission to wed. So will Giselle.

Nicholas and Merrick remind the lovers that they're not without some influence at court, and sure enough, an envoy (remember Lord Osgoode?) soon arrives from the king with his approval not only of the marriage, but of Cerdic as overlord of Ecclesford. Mathilde's husband is to be given an estate in York, not far from the border of Scotland. It seems Nicholas and Merrick have a lot of influence. Not that Henry's complaining about their help. He's delighted that he can marry Mathilde, but no more delighted than she.

The story ends with Henry and Mathilde on their wedding night. Instead of delight, they are quietly happy. Instead of burning desire, Henry feels a deep devotion and determination to be gentle, to replace the terrible memories he's sure Mathilde has with better ones.

For Henry's sake, Mathilde tries to subdue the memories that arise. She recalls the first time she made love with him. But it's clear she can't quite forget, and instead of making love, Henry cradles her in his arms and assures her they have plenty of time. As long as she's with him, to hold and to talk to, he can wait.

This is exactly what Mathilde needed to hear. No longer feeling guilty for her troubled thoughts, she relaxes and lovingly caresses her husband's scarred face.