Free Knight and the Witch 02 - A Summer Bewitchment by Lindsay Townsend Page A

father is dead?” Elfrida asked.
    “Because he is also a Percival, one of the sons of the overlord of the late William the fair. You are, Tancred, are you not?” Magnus challenged, his brown eyes burning very dark. “One of your names may be Olafsson but you are also a Percival. These great families take great interest in land and who owns it.”
    In Tancred’s rapid glance to Lady Astrid, Elfrida appreciated the rest. “And the Lady Astrid is also a Percival by birth and a Gifford by marriage.” She ignored the noble woman’s hiss of displeasure. “You two know each other.”
    “Of course,” Tancred answered, with a shrug. “She is my aunt.”
    The open, careless way he admitted this proved more to Elfrida. Lady Astrid was also Tancred’s ally and advocate. The lady confirmed it by confessing, “Tancred is my godson.”
    “But Tancred is not the only Percival keen to win Rowena’s hand in any future marriage, especially now she is an heiress,” Magnus added shrewdly. “Hence your lack of truth, my lady, to Elfrida and myself, and your clumsy plotting. You fear powerful rivals in your quest to bring these youngsters together.”
    Tight-lipped, her face crimsoning to an unbecoming red, Lady Astrid said, “These matters should be private.”
    “No, they should not,” said Elfrida at once. “Too much has already been done in secret, and for too long.”
    Sensing eyes on her, she turned and saw Githa, as pale as her lady was scarlet. There are still more secrets here, new secrets. Has Lady Astrid promised her ward to another, as well as to Tancred? Is this why the girl had to vanish, so the lady could negotiate for a richer dowry and terms, have two nobles contesting for Rowena and her lands?
    If Tancred is telling the truth, then Lady Astrid must know that Rowena would go with Tancred. But now she cannot do so. Was this why she was taken, to stop her from joining her betrothed?
    All the time, the other maids have been kidnapped and these nobles knew and did nothing.
    “Who is Silvester, Lady Astrid?” she asked aloud. “I think you know very well.”
     

     
    Sorely tempted to roar at the Norman icicle and the lad Tancred, to compel them to talk, Magnus felt a narrow hand grip firmly around his wrist. Elfrida murmured, “Step back, my love,” and pulled.
    Intrigued, aware of a slight tingle against his sun-baked neck, Magnus stepped with her.
    “Fall away,” she said aloud.
    Everyone took a backward stride, though Magnus was too proud to be astonished at this piece of magic. My witch-wife knows something. At the edge of the tiny circle that had opened in the jostling crowd, he saw Lady Astrid’s haughty bewilderment.
    “What?” she mouthed in French, but had no chance to complain. Before any could react— except for my Elfrida —an arrow buried itself with a thud in the middle of the open circle.
    “No more,” said Elfrida, calm while those around her were fluttering and flapping their hands, Lady Astrid still mouthing French and her maids uttering tiny cries of distress. “It is a message. See the red and gold streamers? Those colors mean something. If the archer had hit any of us he would have been sorry.”
    She scowled, her amber eyes as brilliant and piercing as a falcon’s. Magnus sensed her mounting disgust as she added, “It would have been a mistake.”
    “Maybe, though a shout or trumpet call would have served as well.” Magnus stepped forward and plucked the arrow and its streamers out of the ground, but Elfrida was already moving.
    “They meant it as both message and threat,” she tossed over her shoulder. “Let me pass, please.”
    The stuttering crowd parted, then she was running, with Magnus racing after her. They reached the sleeping Ruth together and stood before her.
    This child sleeps still and Elfrida looks as grim as she ever can.
    Magnus checked his weapons and stared along the road, where a boiling cloud of dust betrayed new riders. A scampering behind them