At the top of the hill, his squire waited, minding the horses as John had told him to do. He had wanted no witnesses to this confrontation with his wife. John gave the lad Lorette's reins, bidding the boy to ride on ahead of them.

Bella resisted mounting Vengeance.

"I don't see any purpose served by your forcing me to return to the castle," Bella stubbornly declared. "When it is your intention to sue me for a divorce. I haven't the stomach for continuing such a farce and it is cruel of you to continue making me suffer in such a way."

John grasped her elbow and jerked her around to face him. She refused to look him in the eyes, even when he grasped her chin and lifted it. John deliberately tightened the pressure his thumb applied to her chin and waited for eye contact. Then he spoke.

"Let us get one thing straight. There will be no divorce. I will not be forced to spend the balance of my life in the state of mortal sin. Neither will you. Your soul is my responsibility. Never bring up the subject of divorce again.

"You ordered Robin to desecrate my Bible when he was too young to realize what he was doing. You may pretend to remember only what suits you, but my mind retains firm hold of the truth. As to your suffering that has always been a gross exaggeration. Were you graced with a single sc.r.a.p of humility, you would admit that the h.e.l.l you find yourself in this moment comes from your own doing.

"Sir James may have done the unforgivable and struck you, today, but you know as well as I that you goaded him to it, else it would not have happened."

Bella's brows slanted in a deep, troubled frown as she asked, "Lady Chandos made Robin put those marks in your Bible?"

"Nay, not Lady Chandos. You, Bella." His hands clasped her shoulders, tightening upon them to emphasize his words. She dropped her chin to her collarbone, her head bent as if in contrition. Then she lifted it again and met his gaze without wavering. Her eyes were luminous--as large as Geoffrey's--misty with unshed tears.

"Are you saying that it's her...my idea to obtain a divorce?"

"Yours," said Sir John. "And Eustace Saint Pierre's."

All at once his words made perfect sense. Bella well remembered her conversation with Lady Isabel's father. The old Frenchman had voiced deep regret for having forced his daughter into an early marriage that hadn't netted him the most powerful and profitable alliance, linking his blood to that of the powerful Valois' of France.

"I see. Then I apologize for having accused you of trying to end our marriage." She raised one hand to wipe away the tears collecting in her eyes, but that only caused the floodgates to open. Covering her mouth with her palm, Bella buried her face on Sir John's throat and sobbed into his jerkin.

His hands tightened momentarily on her shoulders, then folded across her back, holding her firmly. What exactly she was crying for, Chandos didn't know.

Over the years he'd been privy to many a bout of heart-rendering tears, all designed to manipulate him like a puppet. This batch fell without a single word of blame or guilt being tossed out. He didn't know what to make of that.

Chandos waited with some rising impatience for the demand that was forthcoming. She wanted something of value or a grand concession in return for her suffering. In the past her tears had earned her a prized Arabian mare, more jewels to adorn her fingers or her delicate throat. She turned her head sideways, sniffing against the back of her hand. She removed a delicately embroidered handkerchief from her sleeve and blew her nose and wiped her eyes, then mopped away the moisture she'd left on his leather jerkin. "Okay, I'm ready." She broke the silence between them without looking into his eyes. "You can me home now if you want to."

John said nothing as he put his hands on her waist and lifted her up to the saddle. He took hold of the reins and put his foot in the stirrup, smoothly hoisting himself up behind her. She fussed with her skirts. He adjusted his seat, making an accommodation that put him further back against the high cantle, allowing room for her hips to be cradled against his own.

"This isn't very comfortable," Bella said, dabbing at her nose one more time.

"'Tis a short ride. Endeavor to bear up if you can."

"I could bear with a lot of things if you gave a tinker's d.a.m.n about me." She slumped against him, the crown of her head grazing his chin, her shoulders stooped and demeanor--defeated.

"I don't believe you've ever expressed a need for my regard one way or the other, Bella," John responded curtly.

"And I don't believe you really know me at all," she replied. That was the last thing said by either one of them until the drawbridge was crossed. Halfway across the inner ward, Bella put her hand on his forearm, saying, "Would you let me down here, Sir John? I want to spend some time in the chapel."

"Why?" he said. "You've never been much for chapel or prayer beyond what is required, Bella."

She turned her shoulders and head to look back at him, meeting the inspection of his stern glance without wavering. In the torchlight and twilight that illuminated the inner ward he could see the bruise marring her cheek.

"Like I said before, John, I don't think you know me very well at all."

He let her get down then, aiding her with a firm hand under her arm. Steady on her feet she looked up at him with tightly compressed lips. He watched her swallow then open her mouth and speak. "I will apologize to Sir Graham for striking him before I retire tonight, but I'm not going to come to hall. Is that acceptable to you, my lord?"

Stunned again, Chandos mutely inclined his head. "Then good-night, Sir John." She dropped him a curtsey, then turned and pushed open the gate under the rose trellis and walked into the chapel yard.

John stared after her, watching her graceful progression to the chapel door, unable to believe that she was the same woman he had wanted to beat within an inch of her life the night she'd attacked King Edward.

She isn't the same woman, echoed the private voice of his conscience. An eerie shiver worked across John's neck. That inner voice spooked him. Likewise, the concept of someone moving through time raised hackles on his spine. It was not possible. Yet, the woman who had just soaked his chest with tears was and could not be the same woman he'd married.

This woman, whose sweet body responded with such open warmth and inviting need, could not possibly be the cold, frigid b.i.t.c.h he'd married.

She was not Isabel. He could no longer deny what was so obviously the truth. He ached to kiss and console her tonight, painfully longed to take her in his arms and a.s.suage her pain. That he could not do.

She was not his wife.

All may think she was the woman he'd married, but in his heart of hearts John de Chandos knew better. They were not husband and wife. To bed her, to l.u.s.t after was to commit the greatest and deadliest sin of all, adultery. No matter how powerful his desire for her became, he could not compromise either of their souls with that sin.

As he handed his horse over to a groom, he thought perhaps she was an angel sent from G.o.d Almighty to test his mettle. The thought that immediately followed was, she could be a devil sent from Lucifer to tempt him into surrendering his soul.

He prayed G.o.d would give him the strength to overcome temptation because with each encounter between them, Chandos feared his control slipped more and more into this Bella's tender and delicate hands.

BOOK THREE.

"For a war to be just three things are necessary--public authority, just cause and right motive."

ST. THOMAS AQUINAS.

"If you are not too long, I will wait for you all my life."

OSCAR WILDE.

-24.

The Watergate, Chandos Enceinte Dawn, July 12, 1346.

"Exactly what exactly do you mean Geoffrey is going to France as Sir Graham's page?" Bella grabbed Sir John's sleeve and yanked with all her might. Sir Neville dogged her heels as Chandos turned from tossing his last pack of gear onto the Christopher.

Sir John shot a quelling look at the French knight, wordlessly telling him not to interfere, then he gazed into Bella's face. Her lips compressed so tightly a whitish ring circled them and those fabulous ginger eyes regarded him with outright fear.

"Answer me!" she hissed in desperate tones so softly said, Neville couldn't have heard her words.

"I mean exactly what I just said, Isabella. Geoffrey accompanies James Graham as his page. It is time the boy took up the duties expected of him."

"To war? You expect a child to take up duties in a G.o.dforsaken war?" Her voice rose to a higher note.

John laid his hands on Bella's shoulders and felt the vibrations rumbling through her. "Nay, Bella, Geoffrey will take no part in any fighting. A page awaits his lord at table, sees to his armor and clothing at camp and minds his lord's possessions when battle is enjoined. You know this. Why the argument?"

"Because he's a child!" Bella gripped John's forearm so tightly her nails left imprints in his skin. "You must not take Geoffrey to war. Leave him, please. I beg you."

"Nay, Bella. He is a boy and must learn the way of men. Did I leave him here, you would indulge and spoil him as you have done this entire past month. Frankly, I liked it better when Geoffrey was disdained and treated as if he was not your son. These new att.i.tudes of yours smother the boy and would cripple the man he will become."

"Chandos, had I the means, I'd beat you to a b.l.o.o.d.y pulp with my own bare hands this very moment!" Bella gritted through her teeth.

"Then I thank the providence that you have not the means, wife." Sir John laughed and kissed her brow, knowing he would get nothing more from her in this fierce mood.

Every discussion they had had for a week had been designed by her to dissuade John from taking Robin to war.

Over Geoffrey, the son his wife had hated since his supposed long-overdue and exceedingly painful birth, this new Bella growled and snarled like a lioness protecting an endangered cub. "All will be well, my lady. I promise you, each son will return no worse for the wear of battle than I.

Escort my lady back within the castle wall, Neville."

Sir Neville took Bella's arm. She yanked her elbow free, glaring mutinously at both old Neville and Sir John. "I'll be on the next G.o.d d.a.m.n ship," she hissed ferociously. "Just see if I am not!"

The profanity stunned Sir John. His hands shot out and caught Bella's shoulders, yanking her up against him. "You dare to take the Lord G.o.d Almighty's name in vain, when we have just come from chapel, woman!"

Such blasphemy wasn't to be tolerated--ever!

"I'm giving you fair warning, Chandos. If you take Geoffrey to war, then you may as well take me, too."

His fingers pressed into her upper arms, his words harsh in her ear--for her ears alone. "Lady, I will not tolerate swearing or breaking the Lord's Commandments."

"Don't change the subject. I will not allow you to take a child..." Bella argued, but a rough shake got her to shut her mouth.

"Be silent! I am outraged how carelessly you take the Lord G.o.d's name in vain. Do it again if you dare. I will take the time here and now to put an end to such blasphemy. Do I make myself clear?"

"Then sir, you may as well do your worst, because you will not take that child to war! Geoffrey, come here to me at once!"

"That's the last straw," Chandos growled, pressed as far as he would allow. He pulled her nose to nose with him and growled, "Follow me to France, interfere in the war or in the way I am raising my sons and I will incarcerate you in a convent for the rest of your days."

The dire threat had the predictable effect--sullen silence ensued. Bella comported herself for the balance of the disembarking of the Christopher as a lady should. She hugged and kissed her sons, then stood with the queen waving white kerchiefs as the cog sailed down the Erne.

The entire uneventful voyage, Chandos leaned over the hull, glaring back at England, fuming over the wife he'd left behind. At times he truly believed the woman he called wife was a new person; that is a strange, uncountable woman from some far distant future date. But when she crossed his will and evoked his deepest anger, he lost all belief in her far-fetched tales.

Too many things about Isabel remained unchanged. Her physical appearance, her willfulness, and her maddeningly irrational tempers.

Since hauling Bella out of the Well of Souls, she spoke in confusing and often hard to follow English. Never French. That English was peppered with such unfathomable explicatives as tinker's d.a.m.n, jacka.s.s, buddy-boy and havanice. These new patterns and words boggled Sir John's mind.

Frankly, he wished he knew what havanice meant. He added that word in particular to her growing list of unconscionable sins. The ones he had a.s.sured her on the steps of the watergate that he was personally keeping track of and would see that she received just chastis.e.m.e.nt for the day he returned.

On thing that had happened disturbed his peace of mind the most. Isabel would not have shut up. Once started on her wild tantrums, that woman had never ceased her raving until she'd exhausted herself. Which is exactly what she had done the night she'd attacked King Edward. Isabel threw the temper tantrums of a spoiled, over-indulged child whenever she could not get her way. That is what had made everyone's life at Chandos Enceinte h.e.l.l on earth.

But Bella, who swore and broke Commandments as easily as some people spit, became silent when told to and said not another word. Yes, defiance seeped out of ever pore in her body, but she had held her peace.

Until when, Chandos wondered as he gazed upon the coast of France. Until when?

"The first casualty when War comes is Truth."

HIRAM JOHNSON.

-25-.

Queen Phillipa remained at Chandos Enceinte a full week after the king had sailed. At the end of a week, a ship arrived from the continent bearing messages and letters to the queen. Phillipa shared her eldest son's accounting of his first taste of battle with the ladies of her court.

Upon landing on July 12th at St. Vaast-la-Houge, King Edward had knighted the Prince of Wales, Robin Chandos and the young earl of Salisbury, Roger Mortimer. Then it was onward into war, beginning with the revered Norman city of Caen. When the citizenry inside the castle walls refused to meet King Edward's demand, the English laid siege to the old Norman city.

Edward wrote that since that battle he had been called the Black Prince. He suggested that the appellation came because of the suit of black armor he chose to wore that day had been a gift from his G.o.dfather, John Chandos. As the armor had brought him luck and no little notoriety, he planned to continue to wear it in each battle.

In closing he humbly asked his mother for her continued prayers that he be worthy of the golden spurs of knighthood his father had awarded him.

Few, if any ladies in Bella's solar had dry eyes when Queen Phillipa finished reading her son's solemn letter from the front. Bella was not one of the more stoic ladies. Her tears fell easily these days.

In truth, since that awful day Henri had almost drowned, Bella's moods had swung from the pits of despair to the heights of happiness with alarming frequency.

She couldn't blame anyone for her instability except herself. PMS struck with a vengeance on July 8th and there wasn't so much as an aspirin, much less a Midol to soothe her raging hormones. To make matters worse, her period didn't come.

On the heels of thirteen years of barrenness without so much as a flicker in regularity, she began the ongoing internal nightmare of am I pregnant or am I not? It wasn't any surprise to Bella that she was practically a raving maniac that last week with Chandos, when she knew good an well exactly when he would be leaving.

The result was, that since that day of Henri's accident, Sir John had distanced himself from her. With her own moods in such turmoil, she hadn't pressed him to explain himself. That would have meant she would have to tell him what was bothering her so greatly. The monthlies...that wouldn't come.

So the last halcyon days before war commenced petered away without any resolution of her internal conflict and hence, no resolution of her estrangement with John.

On the night of the eleventh, Bella had gone to John's room twice, hoping to put some sort of peace into effect between them before he went off to war and to tell him or at least give him a hint of what she thought was occurring inside her body. A new life...how she prayed that would be true. Chandos had no time for idle talk that night, busy as he was with last minute details and preparations with his king.

The next morning, of course, she could have killed him with her bare hands for allowing eight-year-old Geoffrey to toddle off to war like it was summer camp.

She felt like an idiot afterward on the dock, watching that ship sail. Geoffrey wasn't alone. Prince Lionel and seven-year-old John Gault also went excitedly off to war--with their mother's full blessing. Phillipa proudly announced the experience would make a man of each of them.

Bella wisely kept her pacifist thoughts and feelings to herself. Five days after Sir John and his sons had sailed off to war, Bella's menses began with a vengeance and dashed all hope she'd privately held of having another child.

On the twenty-eighth Queen Phillipa and her entourage departed for Windsor Castle. After the good-byes were said, Bella and Henri climbed to the top of the northgate and watched the Queen's departure alongside of Sir Neville.

The French knight had been made seneschal in Sir John's absence and he took his new duties seriously. The gates were lowered immediately that the last of Phillipa's ma.s.sive baggage train and private guard departed. Bella suspected Sir Neville hoped there would be a counter attack launched by the French, so Chandos Enceinte remained in a ready-state of preparedness for invasion at all times.

"Maman," Henri tugged on Bella's skirt to gain her attention. "Are we going to go swimming down to the beach like you promised me?"

Sir Neville raised a grey brow and put his hand on the small boy's head. "Nay, young Henri, whatever swimming you want to do this summer must be here within the walls of the castle."

"Is that true, Maman?" Henri turned to question Bella.