"You know about the eclipse?" Bella asked, stunned. "We're not as stupid as you think we are," he snapped. One black stocking slipped off her foot. "I didn't say anything about your being stupid. I said you're stubborn." Bella bit on her lower lip, unable to tear her eyes from following the stroke of his hands as her second stocking went the way of the first. Her mind went blank. Her heart jumped erratically, mingling s.e.xual tension with fear, anger and puzzlement. She stuttered, "Huh...how about this? The king of Bohemia is going to be led into the battle by his squire. They're going to die, side by side, along with all the rest of King Philip's n.o.ble knights and warriors. All of them. It's going to be a horrible ma.s.sacre for the French." "I shouldn't wonder." Chandos' eyes never wavered. "Charles of Luxemborg is as blind as a bat. He has no business on a battlefield at his age." "How can you just twist everything I say? Edward's going to win! A hundred years are going to pa.s.s before the French will recover from tomorrow's defeat. Come Sunday morning thirty thousand men are going to be counted dead on this very field."

Chandos batted Bella's hands away as he reached for her last buckle, the thin belt at her waist that held her trews in place. "Will you stop undressing me. I won't make love to you here. There isn't time for that and it's not what I came here for."

"Who said anything about making love," Chandos lied. "I'm angry or haven't you noticed?"

"That's what I mean," Bella replied with mounting desperation. "We've got to settle this. Haven't you got

anything to say about thirty thousand dead men? I can't bear it if one of those dead is a nine year old boy

I love very dearly. Chandos, say something." "Oh, aye," he growled something unintelligible as he whipped the narrow leather off of Bella's waist. She caught hold of the ties of her britches, glaring at him.

"What did you say?"

"I said, I pray G.o.d, I'm not one of them."

He made her so mad with that comment that Bella shot back, "Since Froissart claimed only one

Englishman gets to die, maybe it just ought to be you."

"So be it. I will go to my G.o.d with a clear conscience, knowing I have done my best in each of my endeavors. And you, wife, shall have paid the price for your disobedience." He caught her right wrist and rose to his feet, pulling her upright.

"Chandos! I am not going to let you beat me."

"Wife, there is nothing you can do to stop me. The price of your rebellion is the forfieture of your freedom. Think back, lady. I said convent if you interfered in either the war or the way I am raising my sons. I happen to know there is a cloister less than an hour's ride from this valley. You cannot go there dressed in the clothing of a page."

Bella struggled to break his grip. She was as helpless against his strength now as she had been when she turned around in the king's chair and shot her mouth off. That episode had only gotten her picked up like a sack of grain and deposited on his shoulder. "Chandos! Will you listen to me?"

"No." He opened the larger trunk and searched it quickly for a clean tunic and surcoat to clothe her more modestly in. "Neither have you been listening to me. But that will change from this day forward."

Bella diverted her attention to his grip on her forearm, prying his fingers off one by one. "I've had enough of this insanity, you d.a.m.ned brute. Let me go."

"No."

Exhausted by the effort it took to give him perfectly good reasons for her being there, Bella took one more look at his face. He wasn't swayed in the least. Her own outrage was running pretty deep, too, but he had a d.a.m.ned funny look in his eye. "What exactly do you mean, no?"

"No, Bella, means I won't let you go. My judgment is the one you will answer to in this life."

Bella interrupted him again. "You can't put me in a cloister. I've got to be here for Geoffrey all day tomorrow. Chandos, you're only doing this because you believe that I'm that other Bella whose been defying you for years. I'm not her!"

"No," he said gravely. "I am doing this because I told you that you were not to follow me to France. I made it clear what I would do if you disobeyed my order. That is the only crime I am considering. You, Bella, need to know that when I give you an order, you are to follow it to the letter of my law."

"I'm not one of your soldiers!"

"Count yourself lucky, then. If you were one of my soldiers, you'd have already been hung. Best you learn now that as my wife your vow of obedience is more important than fidelity."

"Where I come from wives don't have to make vows of obedience any more. That is an archaic infringement upon a woman's personal liberties. On top of which, John Chandos, I am not your wife!"

His eyes positively glittered diabolically as he intoned, "You're in my time, woman. Here, vows count and obedience is the root of all that is honorable."

"I know that!" Bella didn't want to have to resort to using karate to cripple him. "Can we talk this over, please? I mean, it isn't fair for you to use rules against me that I'm not familiar with."

"Fair?" He nearly choked on that word. "I'll give justice. That, lady, is more than you deserve."

"Chandos, please, please, don't make me hurt you!"

"My lord Chandos! I beg forgiveness for intruding, but I must speak to you at once!" Someone with a very strong voice shouted just beyond the fabric walls.

"Oh G.o.d," Bella whispered, struggling to retain control of her own hands against the determined press of Chandos' insistent grips. She thought he wasn't going to respond to whoever was out there hollering to wake the dead.

"My lord! Can you hear me? I must speak with you, this moment!"

"What is it?" Chandos growled a response. "And you'd better have good reason for interrupting me, Your Highness."

Bella wilted against Chandos' chest. She didn't recognize the voice. She didn't have to guess as Prince Edward ducked inside the tent and straightened to face John Chandos' wrath.

"Forgive me, Lord Chandos. Truly, I had no desire to intrude upon your privacy at this moment. I only do so at the express order of my father. You are to attend him at once in his oratory. I am to remain here with Lady Chandos until you return. I give you my word, my lord, the lady will not escape from my sight."

From the look on Sir John's face Bella thought he was going to tell Prince Edward that both he and his father could sail gaily off to h.e.l.l before he'd answer any summons. His grip bit deep into flesh and bones of her wrist as John glared at the prince. All at once he released her.

Bella sank into a mortified heap atop the trunk. Sir John stalked out of the tent without another word.

Talk about being saved by the bell. Bella choked on her own tongue and doubled over, coughing. Honest to G.o.d, there were ten, maybe twenty thousand men all within hearing distance and not so much as a peep of a cricket could be heard once she got hold of her coughing and quieted herself.

Humiliated beyond belief, she cast a glance up at Prince Edward and didn't know what to say. If he'd come in ten seconds later, Chandos would have been on the floor, writhing in agony. Bella didn't even want to think what that would have done to Sir John's pride...much less his body. Hurting him was the last thing she ever wanted to do.

Prince Edward looked as embarra.s.sed as Bella felt. Bella swallowed, wet her lips and said, "I guess I owe you a debt of grat.i.tude."

"Don't thank me, lady," Young Edward said plainly. "Thank my father if the plan works. He did not care for Sir John wasting his energy and his temper on the eve of a battle over marital affairs. Best you pray that the ruse works."

"Thanks anyway." Bella staggered onto her feet, shaken and disturbed, but seeking her control. She crossed to the tent opening, but as she lifted the flap, Edward's hand gripped her wrist.

"Lady Chandos, I gave my word to Sir John that you would be here when he returns. Do not make me regret having done so."

"I just want to see if Geoffrey is nearby."

"All the pages have been ordered to bed. Sir James' camp is high on the far hill. Geoffrey sleeps there."

"I see." Bella let the canvas fall back into place. She turned around, staring at the enclosing walls, lost and out of place, unable to fathom Lady Chandos' motives for anything. No wonder Sir James hated her so. Why would the woman have dishonored her own husband? Dazed, Bella stumbled back to the low cot. She sat there, exhausted and very, very confused.

"Lady," Prince Edward cleared his throat, drawing Bella's attention back to him.

"What?"

"Do you give me your word to remain sequestered here, I shall give you your privacy. Perhaps, if you made better use of your lord's cot, he might be discouraged from seeking more vengeance upon his return."

"What?" Bella looked stupidly round the disorderly tent. Clothes were scattered to the four corners as though a tornado had struck inside the canvas walls. She looked at the cot underneath her and then back at Prince Edward before the import of his words sunk in. She said, "Oh?"

"Exactly, milady. Were I in you, I would seek any means available to turn my lord's wrath another direction."

"Yes, yes, you're right in that." Bella stuttered, embarra.s.sed all over again. Leave it to a d.a.m.n randy sixteen year old to point out the obvious. "I'll certainly keep your suggestion in mind."

"Do that. Have I your word you will remain here?"

Bella saw little chance for escape at this point, so she gave her word.

"Then I shall leave you to your own counsel, milady. Mind you that the tent is well guarded and I will remain outside until Sir John returns."

"I expected you'd say that. Good night, Your Highness and thank you for preventing what would have been a very humiliating experience for Sir John. I don't think he would have appreciated my efforts to unman him."

The prince gave Bella a very peculiar look. "I doubt that you could have done that, milady. We are even now. Your a.s.sistance to me at Winchelsea has been repaid and I will consider my debt to you absolved from now on. I pray you not press for more from me. I can not compromise my honor further."

Those words made Bella return a very sharp look at the young man. "Your Highness, I do hope you are not telling me that your father did not send for Sir John. I need no help in making his rage anymore dangerous this night."

"Suffice it to say my father sent for him, Lady Chandos. Whether or not the man's temper reignites when he returns will depend upon what you do to incite him. I will say, Sir John is the fairest, most honorable man I know. He would not punish anyone unless he had just cause."

Bella wished she could be as certain of that as Prince Edward. He bid her good night and stepped out of the tent. She sat in stifling confinement wishing she was anywhere but at Crecy. Geoffrey had been born in December, think of it.

After a little while she mustered enough of her composure to risk poking her head out of the tent to ask Guilamu for water to wash.

While the servant fetched her a bucket, Bella picked up the scattered clothing and opened Sir John's war chest. She put his sword and scabbard belt inside the large trunk and folded away their clothes. She found a gauzy muslin shirt of his that she could use for a nightgown.

Guilamu came with the water and a small plate of meats, wine and cheese. Bella told him where she'd left her horse tethered and asked for someone to be sent to secure the animal and bring it down to the camp. He a.s.sured her he would see to that himself.

Bella stripped off her trews and cotte hardie, washed the dirt of her journey and the sweat of fear from her body. She let her hair down and used Sir John's boar bristle brush to take away the tangles.

Then the truth struck her. John Chandos would hold Isabel's sins against her till the day she died. That truth hurt more deeply than anything he'd said or did. How could she ever atone for someone else's sin of infidelity?

"...truth can wait: she's used to it."

DOUGLAS JERROLD.

-30.

Towards dawn, when the cicadas and the crickets made less racket than snoring men and restless horses, Bella gave up making useless plans to escape. All through the long night she'd tried to figure out some way to get Geoffrey out of this awful place. Every idea she devised brought her to confronting James Graham face to face. On that thought, her plans withered to dust. How could she possibly face that man ever again when Chandos believed that she-Isabella had betrayed her marriage vows and born Sir James a son?

The injustice of that charge fueled a temper inside her that wouldn't go out any too soon. How so like a man to say such a thing! And on what basis did Chandos make such a charge? Was it because Geoffrey was the only son of his that took after the Saint Pierres'? How dare he!

G.o.d! What an awful coil!

By morning she'd made up her mind. Chandos had not returned. The camp was quiet except for the sounds of numerous snores nearby the cloth walls. She would risk facing James Graham in order to secure Geoffrey into her custody and take him to Calais with her.

John Chandos could rot in h.e.l.l before she'd kowtow to him again. How dare he accuse her of being an adulteress!

How dare he brand his own son was a b.a.s.t.a.r.d!

She gathered up her clothes that were scattered to the four corners of the tent and dressed with deliberate care. Footwear was a problem. She had just managed buckling the last cross-garter and regained her feet when the tent flap lifted and Chandos strolled inside looking as self-righteous as the Anti-Pope. "Good," he said briskly. "I heard you get up. Guilamu is bringing you water to wash."

"How kind," Bella said. "All the comforts of home."

"Not hardly," he corrected, stopping in the center of the tent to use his height to dominate her under the pretext of striking flint and iron to light the hanging oil lamp. The frayed wick burst into flame, clearly illuminating his stern and set expression. "Since you brought up the subject I will remind you, had you stayed home where you belong, your comforts or lack of them this morning wouldn't be at issue."

Bella replied scathingly, "You may tell Guilamu not to bother bringing me anything; food, water or otherwise. I'm capable of fending for myself."

"You'll not find any food until after ma.s.s and communion."

"If you said that to stop me from leaving, it won't work. I'm out of here, Chandos. Good bye and have a nice life." Bella stalked to the tent flap, furious and very determinde. She ducked under the fold of cloth and emerged in pre-dawn twilight.

A small ap.r.o.n of cleared s.p.a.ce fronted the tent, that contained two empty pallets and a three-legged stool. Just beyond the stretch of the tent ropes and spikes, a fire crackled and sputtered in a circle of rocks. Guilamu tended a blackened pot above the flames. Beneath the black coil of his turban he returned Bella's glare with servile placidity. No sun graced the horizon. The valley remained a dark and silent sweep of scattered campfires. A veritable carpet of wool-shrouded bodies stretched end to end beyond Guilamu's fire. King Edward's army slept in peace.

Behind her, Chandos emerged into the open air. He laid his hand on Bella's shoulder, staying her flight. She tensed, resenting his touch.

"Do you care to be the alarm waking all these soldiers, walk away from me, wife." "Didn't they hear enough screaming last night?"

"And will hear more shortly do you continue this tack." "I'm going to find Geoffrey and take him away from here, now. I told you, his life depends on that. I have a ship waiting in Calais. Geoffrey and I are going to be on it by noon, Chandos. Don't try to stop me."

He applied pressure on her shoulder. Bella twisted in opposition as the urge to escape his dominance made her think only of bolting for freedom. She wasn't prepared for swift retaliation. Not one second after she wrenched her shoulder free, that same hand that had gripped her, impacted soundly on her breeches-covered bottom.

That was the last straw. He'd humiliated her as far as her pride would allow. Four years of karate lessons primed her rage, fueled by her fear for a child's life that ran deeper than any other emotion inside her.

The split-second glimpse Chandos had of Bella's eyes as she turned, was all the warning he had of eminent attack. He'd seen the expression before, in men cornered in battle, whose desperation resulted in a brutal fight to the death.

Her a.s.sault caught him off guard because of the ferocity of her attack. He expected shrieks and clawing nails aimed at his face and received instead a rib-crushing kick followed by the direct impact of an oddly flattened slab of knuckles rammed into his throat. Stunned, not because she'd caused any true damage, but because he'd never experienced such odd manner of fighting, he ducked under her next offensive.

His shoulder impacted on the soft flesh of her belly and he clamped his right arm around her furiously pumping legs. As he straightened with his wife's legs clamped in a crushing grip of his arms, he barked an order at Guilamu.

Chandos strode crossways down the hill, past the sea of startled men that his wife's screams awoke. Twice her fists impacted hard enough near his kidneys to make him flinch. By then he'd reached the Maye. The swiftly running current swirled well past his knees.

"Don't you dare!" Bella strained to get upright, fighting his momentum, grabbing fistfulls of his hair.

"I dare, h.e.l.l cat."

Their eyes locked as Chandos lunged forward, submerging her in the deep center of the stream. Immersed in the shockingly cold water, her struggle altered directions in a heartbeat. The blind rage to kill became the desperate will to live. He held her under long enough for true struggle to sink in, then brought only her face above water, allowing her to spit out the water she had inhaled.

The very second that she recovered her wind the fight in her escallated back to full intensity.

That Chandos could not allow. He shook wet hair out of his own eyes and plunged her underneath the surface again.