William was
enconsultating with a man, Ness knew not who he was. She elbowed him aside and
raised a finger wagging up unto the Duke! “Now, tells’t me, Lord, what have
thast done to rectify this grave offense against the house of Mortimer?!”
Men upon the
drilling-grounds began to stop and stare thereat the spectacle. But Nesta could
not feel their eyes upon her, for her cheeks had reddened up to welt from fear
and insult ‘gainst her fair eld homeland wrought. Umber lost?
William said to her
but naught. He met her gaze a moment, like him looking at a thing of nary but
significance. A midge; a gnat; some fowl yet be dressed to cook.
“Lord, by what
license dost thou yield my homeland and my right?” She did attempt again. But
once again, with but a glance, he put the little woman in her place, upon a
shelf perhaps, with toys at once outgrown. And once again, he turned to his
companion and began to consultate.
She grabbed his
riding jacket, made from worsted wool, maroon and gold, and pulled, and tore it at the seam. The host
assembled on the grounds let out a gasp in common then!
“Tells’t me, Lord
William, you, you Bastard Duke, and make it good for all these men to hear it:
By what right dost take thee up to rule above all Normandy?”
This by now hads’t
won attentiveness from all the men, they drilling in the bailey. And won
William’s mind as well.
He looked down at
his sleeve, seam torn, held in her little manalet. He looked then at his other
hand – his left. He flexed his fingers, as if working in a newly glove. And
suddenly, made fist of it and struck Dame Nesta right across the mouth!
She reeled and hit
the dirt. Her teeth were loose and nose had sprought!
“The left makes up
the right, you scion of a house of faggot prigs. Arms and sword-craft, you -
you glos poutonnier.[1]
Mind your place, or I shall put you in it, little girl.”
She heaved upon the
ground before assembled men.
Nesta tasted blood,
and wiped some on her sleeve. Copper in the air spurred on her baser need.
William turned away, reviewing all his men and shook out his left hand a bit in
show so all who didn’t see should know what happened there. But just as he had
brought his mind back to the consultation that he had, Nesta leapt upon his
back and dug her fingers in his face about his cheek! She screeched, and knocked
off his bycocket with a head-butt to his brain! Almost did she take him from
his feet, she’d sprung with such ferocity!
He grabbed her off
and growled, howled loud, so every man and woman in the castle heard the sound.
Held her struggling within his iron hands above his head, and dashed her to the
ground before him, right upon her back! She rolled and spun!
She turned up on her
hands and knees, but then the Duke laid leather boot beneath her ribs, and
something cracked. She prone upon her back collapsed. Ere, Nesta was now spent
of her attack and could she breathe but nacht.
He slowly trod the
several feet between the two and looked down at her, heaving at the stress and
pain of mortal combat they betwain. Again, Duke William looked down at his
broken sleeve, and tucked it in until the seamstress made it right again.
He stepped quite
pointedly upon her pretty ankle. Once again, she at his mercy there.
“I yield, my Duke!” She
coughed through broken lip. And off he stepped.
He bent low, hands
on knees, and put his nose quite close to hers. He grabbed her by the nape, and
lifted up her head a ways. And then he whispered in her ear, “Not what I shall do to keep your land. But what you shall do. What by right have you to rule that Umberland?” He dropped
her head again, and crashed it to the dingy ground.
William called
across the yard, “Take care of this. Put her into the donjon, there to flop it off.” He said some other things as men approached
the scene, but Nesta couldn’t hear, nor see neh more.
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