Rufus praised, stammering and forgetting the royal "we" in his agitation.

"I'm very grateful you were able to save young Pertin from the consequences of his own foolishness. I'll see you well rewarded, I promise you. Pertin, what possessed you to act so suicidally when you were outnumbered? Did you think I'd get you canonized for that piece of lunacy? By the Face, I'd rather have you alive, boy!"

"B-bishop Odo" -- Ranulf began, then closed his eyes as a wave of dizziness swept over him. It had begun to sprinkle, and he concentrated on the cool, refreshing drops of rain falling on his face.

"Is safely back with his fellow conspirators behind the walls of Rochester Castle, along with their two new hostages, FitzHaimo and Hugh of Avranches.

No doubt they'd guffawing over my royal stupidity. Go ahead, my lord, this is your perfect opportunity to say I told you so." As much as he would have liked to say it, the b,. zlug in his head was growing too loud as the blood continued to ooze wetly down his leg from the wound in his thigh.

"Your grace, I..." Ranulf began, and then collapsed into Urse's arms at the same time as the rain began to fall in sheets.

Aldyth had seen it all. With the attention of the whole army on the drama being enacted before the walls of Rochester Castle, she had been steadily edging out of the tent into the throng of men-at-arms. None of them paid any attention to the slender boy threading his way through the ranks. The rain beginning to fall gave her the perfect excuse to pull her hood over her head, concealing most of her face. " She had been halfway toward the front of the ranks when Ranulf had mounted and begun to ride with 263 men, including one in the robes of a bishop whom she guessed was the notorious Odo, toward the castle walls. She wanted to scream, No! Can't you see it's a trap? But she knew he could not have heard her, and it probably would not have stopped him anyway. Men! Why must they do such obviously foolish things in the name of bravery! And then her hands had tightened into fists as she had spied the armed party thundering out of Rochester Castle, their swords raised. They clearly outnumbered the king's emissaries. Aldyth put her hands up to her mouth to stifle the screams as she saw one of the knights attempt to charge the enemy, Ranulf's move to intercept him and then his heroic fight to rescue the foolhardy knight.

A moan of anguish escaped from Aldyth as she glimpsed the enemy's sword descending and striking Ranulf's leg, but the sound was buried in the rising roar of rage from hundreds of soldiers all around her. She continued to watch, lips murmuring in prayer, for terrifying seconds as Ranulf on his war-horse fought to win free of his pursuer.

was not ordered to attack--the whole event had happened too quickly. The drawbridge was down only long to allow the bishop, the dozen rebels and their two hostages to clatter back over it, and then Rochester was again shut up tight.

Aldyth saw none of that. Her eyes were trained upon her Ranulf as his human burden was taken from him from his horse, only to fall a moment later heap before the king.

as she dashed forward, heedless of her sur- rose over the murmuring of the men-at-arms as r awaited further orders.

Ranulf! " Oh, J6su, was his wound mortal? Was It took her an agonizingly long time--in reality only see- ends--to reach her lover's side in the downpour, but by that time the men about the king were trying to help Urse with his fallen lord.

"A1--Edward," Urse cried, sighting Aldyth.

"No--don't come near-You ... you shouldn't see him now" -- he warned, but she ignored him.

"Here, what's this? Lord Ranulf's page? Easy, lad, easy," someone was saying, but then one of the n.o.bles had pulled off Ranulf's helmet, pushing back his hair, so midnight black in contrast to the pallid, bloodless face.

Someone else stepped back after having pushed Ranulf's hauberk up away from the wound, and she saw the widening stain spreading over the lower edge of his arming tunic. Aldyth screamed again and, eluding an attempt to grab her, threw herself at Ranulf's body, sobbing, her fingers diving for his chest to see if he still lived.

The heavy metal links made it difficult to be sure his heart was still beating, but she thought his chest rose slightly under her cheek. Her hand flew to his neck, and yes, there was a thrumming against her fingers just at the angle between the neck and the jaw. But 'twas so feeble and quick! And still the crimson stain spread at his thigh.

"Oh, please! Can't you see he's bleeding to death? Help him, in G.o.d's mercy!" she screamed, then hardly knowing what she did, she kissed him, wondering dazedly if it would be the last time she did so while he lived.

"Send my physician to my tent?" bellowed Rufus at her side.

"Here, you men! Carry him thence! No, you wait here," he said, fingers fastening like an iron vise aroUnd her wrist when she would have followed as Ranulf was being borne away.

Frozen with the realization that she was discovered, she allowed herself to be stopped.

"Look at me," the king's voice commanded.

Aldyth quaked inwardly as she lifted her chin, her eyes seeing first the springy, ginger-colored hair thinning at the top, then the high-colored complexion and, lastly, the penetrating gaze of Rufus's slightly bulging hazel orbs.

"" Tis a maid and not a boy," he said softly, cupping her chin and turning it first this way and then that, rubbing her cheeks with one callused thumb, feeling the softness. of her skin through the dirt she always smudged on her face. " "TIS a maid? he repeated to the n.o.bles thronging around him. "

Lord Ranulf's little page boy is a maid, not a boy--fancy that! " He looked at her with ineming intensity.

"Well, say something, girl. You are female, are you not, by the Face of Lucca?"

"Aye," she sobbed, her tears washed away by the rain. "Aye, your grace, I am female."

"Who are you? Why did our Ranulf have you with him? He called you Edward, or something like that, did he not?

Why would he do such a thing? This casts our Ranulf in a wholly different light, does it not? " he said musingly to the ' rescued Pertin, who still stood near.

Should she tell the truth? Would it be better or worse for Ranulf if she admitted that she not only was not a boy but wife to Ranulf?

'Your grace, Lord Ranulf meant to perform no deception toward you but only, in his chivalry, to aid me," she There was the sound of a scuffling behind them, and a voice she had hoped never to hear again said, I believe I can tell you what you wish to know. she is Aldyth of Sherborne, and my runaway beAldyth stared, aghast, at the rain-drenched man-at-arms who stood before her. There was an evil gleam of triumph in his pale blue eyes.

"No..." she moaned. No! Not here, not now, when Ranulf is bleeding, maybe dying! The king whirled around, surprisingly swift for a man of his barrel-chested bulk, and studied the dripping soldier. "And who in the devil are you, knave?"

Turold swallowed before answering.

"Turold of Swanlea,. your grace, and one of your most loyal of English sub jeers He shut his mouth temporarily as Rufus held up an impatient hand.

"And this is my woman--that is to say, my betrothed--who has run away from my generosity and kindness and treacherously fornicated with that evil demon that was just carried away... " Be careful, you babbling English magpie. You speak of a Norman n.o.ble and one of my most trusted lords," Rufus warned him sternly.

Turold paled, then went on.

"But your grace does not know" -- "Your grace, I regret to interrupt, but a messenger has come from the rebel garrison," Beaumont said, his voice raised to carry over Turold's.

"He would speak to you immediately as to their demands regarding the hostages."

Rufus peered at the mounted man through the downpour.

"Oh, he would, would he? They dare to make demands when they have the might of England before their walls?"

"But, your grace" -- began Turold.

"I have no more time for talk of runaway women and accusations about my lords. If he cuckolded you, you probably deserved it!" Rufus said with a derisive snort, and began to turn away.

"But there's treason, your grace!" Turold blurted out desperately.

Rufus's head jerked around, throwing droplets of ram from his ginger locks.

"Treason? I would not toss that charge lightly, fellow."

"I... I do not, your grace," Turold said, but he trembled and licked his lips.

Rufus looked back at Beaumont, who indicated the mounted messenger carrying the same white banner Pertin had earlier dropped. He sighed.

"I will hear your claims, Turold of Swanlea, on the toor- at the hour of s.e.xt. Your charges may not matr to Lord Ranulf, you know--he may be mortally wounded from the look of it. And if he dies, I don't give a d.a.m.n whose woman this is," he added with a sour look at Aldyth, and stalked off.

"Until then, Aldyth, you're coming with me," Turold announced, and reached for her.

: "Nay!" she cried, backing up and shrinking away from his extended hand.

"I must go to my lord. Leave me alone, You have no more right to tell me what to do."