England, 1244

Handsome Sir Henry, a knight with no estate, is traveling north to visit his older brother when he stops at an inn. Upon awakening 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 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 her father gave up his French estates to his brother in return for his brother's English lands. He died recently and willed his estate to his daughters. Their cousin, the greedy, ambitious Sir Roald de Sayres, believes he, as sole male relative, should inherit. He claims their father must have been incompetent when he made his will; why else would he have left his estate to women? Roald is disputing the will and the sisters intend to fight for their rights.

Henry hates Roald de Sayres for reasons of his own and wouldn't want to see any woman under his control. It's also a knight's duty to protect the weak. It doesn't hurt that the sisters are offering a considerable sum of money (he's nearly broke) and he's in no particular hurry to see his brother.

Mathilde is excited by Henry's agreement to help them, even if she's suspicious of handsome, charming young men, and with good reason. She's so pleased, she merrily banters with Henry on the journey to Ecclesford, while Giselle watches with silent concern. She's worried about hiring this "stranger." Surely they could have promoted one of the soldiers, like the competent Saxon, Cerdic.

Mathilde reminds her that while Roald may be a dishonorable lout, he's not an idiot, or without influence at court. They must have somebody with experience, and of sufficient rank and fame, to make Roald back off.

Giselle says no more, giving in to the persuasive Mathilde as she usually does, although she's the older sister. In fact, she's ceded most of the control of the household and estate to Mathilde. This isn't because she spends all her time primping. She's seen how important being in charge is to Mathilde's well-being and self-esteem.

Upon their arrival at Ecclesford, Henry discovers that the witty and vivacious Mathilde is like a combination chatelaine, steward and garrison commander. This goes against the ideal of medieval femininity, but Henry likes intelligent, determined women. In his experience, they're much more interesting and passionate. He's already started to wonder what sort of lover Mathilde would be, but at this point, his amorous attention is still on Giselle.

His obvious interest in Giselle doesn't endear him to Mathilde. Although she wasn't above using Giselle as bait to get Henry to Ecclesford, she definitely doesn't want Henry seducing her sister. Giselle assures her she's not about to fall for a man like Henry. He's probably another cad who simply enjoys the chase. She treads delicately here, because the experience she's referring to is not her own, but Mathilde's.

Henry soon realizes 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 finding the busy little body, Mathilde, (whose body is really rather shapely) more fascinating than he expected. Although she's clearly won the affection of her household and the soldiers, she reminds him of some of the better commanders he's known, such as Sir Leonard de Brissy who trained him in his youth, and his friend, Ranulf. He wonders if he can be as good a leader, and becomes to determined to prove that he can, both to bolster his 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. The maidservants are all in a flutter. Mathilde finds this irritating, but given Henry's attributes, not surprising. She'll keep them so busy, they won't have time to be distracted by their guest -- and neither will she.

Nevertheless, Mathilde must ensure that her money's not going to waste, so she goes to one of Henry's drills. She's pleased by what she sees, and tries to ignore the sight of a half-naked Henry. She's 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 sword fighting, defense, etc. Cerdic and the other men realize that Henry is an excellent instructor and has some valuable experience from which they can learn.

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 time to wander by another practice session. She happens to be on the wall walk during another. And another time, she has to ask Henry a question about weapons.

The men's grudging acceptance is developing into genuine respect and even affection. Henry'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 how she feels about him. 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 taken aback by her abrupt rejection and her accusations, but with his experience with women as a guide, suspects this isn't about what he's actually done, but what some other man has. This enables him to keep his temper under control, and he tells her that if he finds her attractive, it's because she is.

Mathilde refuses to believe that a man 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 hoping to seduce her into marriage. She's tempted to send Henry packing, but they still need him. She silently vows to be far more careful around him in the future...although surely Henry got the message and will stay away from her, and her sister.

Henry's upset by her mistrust, and while he's tempted to leave, he feels bound by his duty to protect the weak and to help his friends (which now includes the garrison). He also wants to prove to Mathilde wrong that he is trustworthy.

Henry goes drinking with Cerdic to try to find out what happened to Mathilde that's given her such a sour view of men, as well as the nature of the relationship between the sisters. Is Giselle deserving of Mathilde's trust? Being something of an expert in clandestine behavior, he's beginning to suspect Giselle is keeping something from her sister.

Cerdic tells Henry that if there was a man who broke Mathilde's heart, he doesn't know who it was. He assures Henry that Giselle loves her sister and she'd never betray Mathilde.

As the discussion continues, both men get rather the worse for wine. Henry reveals some things about his own past. The serving wenches are very friendly and the men stay the night, availing themselves of more than the wine.

When Mathilde finds out where they were and suspects what they did, she's annoyed, but not overly upset. Henry and Cerdic are grown men, and she's not their wife or mother. Cerdic tells her (and Giselle) what he's learned about Henry. He was falsely accused of treachery by his closest friend, something that still bothers him a great deal.

Mathilde wants to believe that Henry's deserving of her trust, but given how sympathetic Giselle is toward Henry after hearing about the false accusation, and that Giselle seems very upset about the wenching, she has to wonder if there is, indeed, something between Giselle and Henry. She must keep better watch on both of them.

Henry receives a message from his older brother, Nicholas, who wants to know what 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 Queen Eleanor and thinks she's influencing her husband the king in a way that's going to end in rebellion, as it eventually does.)

Deep down, Henry appreciates that his brother is concerned for him. However, he hates being talked to as if he's ten years old. He sends Nicholas a rather chilly missive thanking him for his concern, but he'll stay in Ecclesford, as he's agreed.

This incident gives Mathilde more insight into Henry's relationship with his brother, and a sense of Henry's need to prove himself.

One night, Mathilde discovers that Giselle's not in her bed. Remembering the excitement she felt when she believed herself in love and sure Henry could inspire similar passion in any woman, she sets out to find Giselle. Instead, she encounters Henry, who claims he couldn't sleep, saw Giselle, and tried to follow her. He lost her in the shadows.

Given the suspicious circumstances, Mathilde doesn't believe him and accuses him of having nefarious designs on both her and her sister. Henry makes it very clear that he's has no such plans. He's an honorable knight.

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

She's hit upon a very sensitive point with Henry. His dismay and anger quickly turn to self-defense. He reminds her of his reason for appearing to betray his friend (to find out information) and demands to know why she thinks he's untrustworthy? He's given her no cause to think so, has he? Or is it just because he's a man -- and a man she obviously wants, even if she won't admit it? Shocked, dismayed (because she is attracted to him), Mathilde strikes back. Clearly there must be some reason his friends were so quick to think he would betray them, 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 -- but he's obviously just another vain, lustful lout who expects women to fall in love with him. If they don't, he bolsters his wounded pride by claiming they're unnatural, not that they're clever enough to see through his empty words.

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 rendezvous 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? But beneath Mathilde's anger and indignation, she's afraid of Henry -- and her own weakness.

Kissing her, Henry realizes several things. First, she's not immediately pushing him away and that pleases him. Secondly, he should be sympathetic to her history, not casting it up to her, even if Mathilde has cast his up to him.

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.

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

Just as he expects, Mathilde refuses to pay the full amount, since he hasn't fulfilled the original terms of their verbal contract. As Henry continues to demand full payment, Mathilde realizes she could be putting her sister and her people in jeopardy by forcing Henry to leave. Surely she can control her wayward emotions. She tells him that if he wants full payment, he'll have to earn it by abiding by their contract.

Since this is what Henry wanted, he (apparently grudgingly) accepts. He'll stay -- and far away from her, which she claims is just what she wants.

And where is Giselle while this confrontation is taking place? She's with Cerdic, talking about Henry and Mathilde. Cerdic has come to respect and admire Henry as a fighter, although 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. Then they kiss.

When Mathilde asks her sister about her absence, Giselle lies, giving her a plausible explanation.

Roald arrives. He's enraged when his cousins refuse him entry into Ecclesford, and when he learns 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 reveals that he prevented Roald from raping a serving woman. Roald counters by claiming that Henry has no right to claim the higher moral ground. He was sneaking about the castle for some nefarious activity of his own that night.

Mathilde doesn't care what Henry was doing, or with whom. What's more important, and what she believes, is that Roald was attempting to force a woman, and Henry stopped him.

When Roald realizes Mathilde and Giselle won't back down, he demands to know what inducements they've offered Henry for his help. He wouldn't put anything past Mathilde, after she threw herself at him. When he refused to marry her, she grew spiteful. She's obviously just those of a bitter women out for vengeance.

Mathilde cannot and does not deny that Roald promised her marriage, and then reneged.

Henry is gobsmacked. Roald? Why didn't she tell him?

Inwardly ashamed, Mathilde says her past history with Roald doesn't matter. Her father's will is legally valid and Roald should not get Ecclesford; that's the important thing.

Henry agrees that she's right, but now he's wondering what else Mathilde has kept from him. He's also wondering just how intimate she was with Roald. Roald makes it sound as if they were very intimate -- but he's a liar. And does he -- Henry -- really want to know?

When Roald realizes Henry's still not giving up command, he tells them that if they continue to challenge his authority, 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, Mathilde, Giselle, Cerdic and the entire garrison of Ecclesford more determined to defeat him.

After Roald and his men leave, Henry asks Mathilde if there's anything else he ought to know.

Like what, all the sordid details? she demands. Yes, she made love with Roald -- once. He made her believe he loved her and wanted to marry her. But after 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 said those hateful words. Now 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 and the serving maid -- but his relationships with women have been honest ones. They knew he wasn't offering marriage or even love. And he certainly would never say anything so cruel.

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.

Roald goes to court, where he complains to Queen Eleanor about what's going on at Ecclesford. Eleanor tells him she's got more important matters to consider (like bringing about the marriage of her sister to the king's brother). The king, however, agrees that Giselle and Mathilde should be subject to their male relative'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 Ecclesford back any way he can.

Henry's friend, 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. Trying to act as if nothing's changed, Henry assures Ranulf that he knows what he's doing. Or doesn't he think Henry can do a good job?

Ranulf doesn't fault Henry for wanting to help the two ladies, but has he thought this through, or was he swayed by his need to help women in distress? He might earn the king's enmity, and then he'll never get an estate. His brother and Merrick might also be affected. Was it the beautiful Giselle --?

Henry makes it clear that his decision aren't being guided by lust for Giselle. He admits he's being paid to help, but Ranulf knows Roald, at least by reputation. Surely he must agree that the women need the help of a trustworthy, competent knight.

Ranulf can't disagree -- and also by now, he's figured out that Henry's attracted to the vivacious younger sister. That isn't so surprising; what is surprising is that Henry is trying to pretend otherwise. Why?

An angry Henry retorts that he is capable of making decisions based on something other than lust. Ranulf is taken aback by the vehemence of Henry's response and tries to get him to admit that there's more going on here than Henry's simple offer to assist two ladies in need.

But most important, he wants Henry to see that in addition to getting embroiled in a family dispute (especially when the family in question includes the hated queen), Roald will likely stop at nothing to get Ecclesford, whether by legitimate means or foul, and the more obstacles in his way, the worse his vengeance will be should he succeed. Henry could actually be making things worse for the women, as well as involving his brother and his friends.

What's he supposed to do? Henry charges. Let Roald win and do what he wants with Mathilde and Giselle? His brother can always claim Henry acted without his approval (which is true). Nor will he involve Merrick or Ranulf. He's well aware of the oath of brotherhood and loyalty they swore to one another, but he won't call on them, if that will make Ranulf feel better.

Ranulf's temper rises. Of course they'll come to Henry's aid -- but perhaps he should have thought a bit more about the ramifications of what he was about to do before he did it. Hasn't nearly getting killed because Merrick thought Henry had betrayed him taught him anything?

It taught him that his friends were quick to misjudge him, Henry retorts.

Ranulf leaves Ecclesford.

Mathilde tries to find out what happened, but Henry isn't talking. After what Ranulf told her about their friendship, she realizes that by helping her, Henry could lose 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 and he's free to go at any time. However, she also resolves to treat him with more respect and gratitude.

Henry is now more determined to succeed than he's ever been in his life, and more seriously devoted to his duties than he's ever been. Gone is the charming, bantering seducer; in his place is a grim, resolute, stern commander.

Giselle and Cerdic are well aware of that there's conflict between Mathilde and Henry, and that both have changed -- and not for the better. Giselle thinks Henry should leave. Cerdic reluctantly agrees and tries to convince him to go. This attempt goes nowhere, and instead causes Henry to wonder if Cerdic is as trustworthy as he seems. He still doesn't trust Giselle, either. Meanwhile, back in London, Roald hires himself a henchman. Sir Charles de Mallemaison, a well-trained, battle-hardened knight, will do anything for money.

As part of the All Hallow's Eve festivities at Ecclesford, Henry arranges a tournament for the men of the garrison, as a means to demonstrate and reward what they've learned. This goes very well indeed. During the festivities, Mathilde (a little the looser for wine) tells Henry how impressed she is by the work he's done with the men. Henry reveals that he admires and respects the way she leads the household. Mathilde begins to hope that he doesn't think she's a complete fool because of her relationship with Roald. In fact, the only thing Henry's thinking about is kissing Mathilde.

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, and far more than the need to protect someone who needs his help. He's found a woman he wants to marry, except that he has nothing to offer her butt his sword.

Mathilde is glad she gave in to her passion, even if he'll never marry her. After all, she's homely, she's a fallen woman and he could have his choice of a hundred rich, beautiful brides. Charles de Mallemaison is among the crowd at the All Hallow's Eve tournament and he tells Roald that the garrison of Ecclesford is going to be a tougher force to fight than Roald led him to believe. He's wants more money. He wants Giselle, too -- or at least, a chance to take her before Roald does what he likes with her.

Charles's report frightens Roald, even as he tries to tell himself Charles's probably exaggerating to get more money. On the other hand, Henry's not going to be an easy man to defeat. Roald agrees to Charles'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 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 would control Ecclesford.

But then, doesn't he fear people will say that he's only after Mathilde for money and power? After another intimate encounter, he tells Mathilde what he's seen, and his suspicions. She's surprised, but refuses to believe there's anything to fear from Giselle, or Cerdic, either.

Henry confronts Cerdic, but before he gets far, an alarm is sounded. Roald's returned with a huge army, led by a man named Charles de Mallemaison. Henry's heard of Charles, and he feels the first real fear he's experienced since he arrived at Ecclesford, although it's not fear for himself. If Roald is desperate enough to hire a man like Charles, who knows what vengeance he'll exact from those who dared to defy him if they lose? And if Mathilde and Giselle are captured by Charles... Ranulf might have been right after all.

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 should go before he gets killed. 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 Charles. 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.

Although she's very concerned for his safety, Mathilde can't help being relieved that he'll stay. Giselle, however, should definitely go. But she refuses to leave, too. She'll stand by her sister, and Cerdic, whom she loves and wants to marry. She hasn't said anything to Mathilde about their relationship because she feared Mathilde wouldn't approve. 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.

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

A cry sounds from the watchtower. Charles, in full battle dress, has ridden up to the gate to deliver 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 is intended to scare either Mathilde, Giselle or the garrison into giving up, it doesn't work.

During the fierce fighting, Henry attacks Charles. Henry's left eye is destroyed, his face terribly scarred, his left arm all but useless, while Charles escapes unscathed. Mathilde is grief-stricken, and again blames herself. She should have found some way to end this peaceably. Other men besides Henry have been seriously wounded, and a few have died. She must find a way to end this conflict without further loss of life, or more serious injuries.

Mathilde goes alone to Roald's camp to sue for peace. He can have Ecclesford if he allows the garrison, Giselle and herself to leave without further harm.

Not good enough, Roald retorts, smugly satisfied by Mathilde's seeming surrender.

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 now? Oh, it wouldn't be him, although he might decide to join the fun. He calls for Charles.

Desperate to save her family, Henry and her people, and with her expression grim, her head held high, Mathilde disrobes.

Later, Roald orders Charles to "get that whore" out of his tent. Charles shoves a naked Mathilde outside, for all the encamped soldiers to see. And then he tells her she whored herself for nothing. They're going to take Ecclesford and then both Mathilde and her sister will really regret their defiance.

Knowing that she's failed, ashamed and humiliated by Roald once again, Mathilde nevertheless valiantly struggles to her feet. One of Roald's soldiers, a Scot, rushes to her with a blanket. He says nothing, but it's clear he's disgusted with his commander's action. (And for those who've read BRIDE OF LOCHBARR, there's Lachlann.)

Charles orders the Scot to back off, but the soldier gives him such a look, Charles retreats into the tent.

When Mathilde returns, naked except for the blanket, disheveled, face set and silent, everyone in Ecclesford realizes something very bad 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. Afraid the garrison will be roused to careless anger, she also wants Cerdic to tell the garrison that she did what she did of her own free will.

What Mathilde doesn't yet appreciate is that everyone can guess why she went to Roald, and they hate him even more, while feeling only sympathy for her.

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 about Roald and Charles, and that she went to them willingly.

Although both are 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 to her. He becomes so agitated, 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 that greedy little squint? Unable to hold back her tears, full of shame, believing any hope of a life with Henry is lost, Mathilde tells him what happened to her in the tent.

Henry is roused to an almost supernatural fury. Death is too good for that bastard, he cries, getting out of bed, his own wounds and pain forgotten.

Distraught, upset, Mathilde 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 charming mask. She loves him.

If she truly loves him, he says, calming down a little in the face of her distress, then she must let him try to punish the men who hurt the vivacious, intelligent, resourceful, resolute woman he loves. If he's got to die, let him perish as a knight should, defending his lady.

Then, being Henry, he tries to lighten the mood and reassures her that he has no intention of dying now that he knows Mathilde loves him. Besides, unless she ties him to the bed, she can't stop him.

Cerdic appears and, misunderstanding completely, is thrilled to see that Henry's recovered. The men are determined to fight to the death and with Henry to lead them, they can't fail! Henry gives Mathilde an "Okay, now you're going to have to kill me to stop me" look. Doing her best not to weep, she helps him prepare for battle, hiding his injuries as best she can. Even so, their parting kisses taste of tears.

The garrison is thrilled when Henry appears, his visor lowered to hide his face, his left arm surreptitiously strapped into place and holding his shield. He starts issuing orders and taunting Roald, Charles and their men from the wall walk.

Charles is enraged; he was sure he'd killed Henry. But two can play at the taunting 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.

During the battle, a fiercely energized Henry makes his way to Charles and, after a tough struggle, kills him. Then he seeks out Roald. Roald calls for his guard to protect him but, led by the Scot, they all turn their backs and walk away. Even wounded, Henry's ten times the warrior Roald is, and Roald dies.

After Roald's army takes flight, Henry learns that Mathilde's been wounded. She went to the battlements to help bring down the injured men and was struck by an arrow. Not knowing if she's alive or dead, Henry rushes back to the castle. She's hurt, but in no danger of dying -- a fact made clear when she throws herself at Henry.

Before they can enjoy their triumph, news comes that two other armies are approaching, one from the north led by a Scot, and one from the west, led by a Cornishman. Mathilde reveals that she sent word of Henry's injuries to his brother in Scotland, and to Lord Merrick of Cornwall, as well.

Henry has a happy, although subdued, reunion with his brother and his friends. Henry's not going to die, but he's lost his eye, and he may never be able to fight again. Mathilde assures them that there's nothing wrong with his mind, so he'll still be a valuable commander.

Nicholas, Ranulf and Merrick, as well as Giselle and Cerdic, appreciate that although the worst is over, Henry and Mathilde are obviously unhappy.

Ranulf manages to get Henry to admit that he doesn't think he can offer marriage to Mathilde. It's got absolutely nothing to do with Mathilde's experience with Roald and Charles -- except for his guilt that he wasn't able to protect her and prevent her heroic sacrifice. It's because he's a ruin of a man.

Ranulf thinks Mathilde still loves him -- didn't she tend to his wounds without revulsion? And wasn't she the one telling everyone Henry still had value as a commander? Of course she doesn't think he's a "ruin." What Henry's more likely doing by staying away from her now 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 Charles. Henry quickly assures her that he still loves her. How could he feel anything but admiration for her after she put herself at risk for the people she cares about? How could he not appreciate her spirit of self-sacrifice, and her dignity despite Roald's attempts to humiliate her. He's sorry he didn't fight with more skill the first time he encountered Charles, 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 than her feelings of guilt for the acts of depraved, vile men? He assures her he would be proud to have her for his wife, if she would give him that honor, but he's worse than poor now.

Starting to hope that she might, indeed, have a future with Henry, Mathilde tells him that she loves his clever mind, his wise leadership, and his amusing chatter. Those aren't changed. And she will have a dowry -- unless the king decides otherwise.

They'll also 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. Once, Henry would have resented their help. Now, he's happy to have it, especially when an envoy (remember Lord Osgoode?) arrives from the king with his approval not only of the marriage, but of Cerdic as overlord of Ecclesford. Henry is to be have an estate in York, not far from the border of Scotland. (It seems Nicholas and Merrick have a lot of influence -- or perhaps the king is wary of angering two such noblemen.)

The story ends with Henry and Mathilde on their wedding night. Instead of delighted, they are quietly happy. Instead of burning desire, Henry feels a deep devotion and tenderness toward his wife, especially when he realizes Mathilde is trying to subdue the memories of what happened in the tent. He 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's more than content.

This is exactly what Mathilde needed to hear. She relaxes, smiles, and lovingly caresses her husband's scarred face.

The End

When she started reading this, my agent was concerned that the story wasn't emotional enough. Fortunately, she felt it became so as she continued. However, she suggested it would be better to have had Roald assault Mathilde prior to the opening of the story. Since this gives Mathilde even more of a reason to mistrust Henry's intentions, I agreed.