Claudia Dain Read Online Free Page A

Claudia Dain
Book: Claudia Dain Read Online Free
Author: The Fall
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the golden sphere of earthly perfection, or had he spoken words of power?
    Was there a woman in Henry's kingdom who would lay a wager on the question?
    Juliane chuckled under her breath and ran a hand over her cheek, brushing the wind from her skin, standing alone, untouched. Nay, there was no woman who would take that wager. Men lived to wield their power, in whatever ways they could, against whomever they could.
    And so she lived to stand against that sword of power, wielding a power of her own.
    It was with thoughts of power in her mind that Juliane decided where she would allow Ulrich to find her.
    * * *
    Ulrich and his band rode into the wide bailey of Stanora wearing smiles of greeting and goodwill. As he smiled, he looked about him. The tower of Stanora was large and low, wider than tall, two stories above the undercroft, crowned with a thick ridge of battlements. A most unusual tower, of recent construction and in a fashion he had but heard of before now; 'twas a tower that strove to be a dwelling. A tower that was more than defense, it was an embrace to all who dwelt within.
    A tower difficult to defend?
    Ulrich looked again, his smile constant and his gaze mild. A thick curtain wall with an earthen rampart, a wide and clean-swept bailey with outbuildings of stone, a battlement like a crown against the sky; nay, Stanora would not fall easily, though she wore the look of welcome.
    Would the same be said of Juliane? It was most like.
    In all his years of wandering, he had yet to meet a maid, damsel, or queen who did not have a smile for him. Juliane had built her name upon other hearts than his, and it was upon his name that she would fall. A gentle falling with no ill intent, that was sure, but a falling all the same. Did she know yet that he had even now breached the outer defenses of Stanora? Did she know that he had come to take the chill from her name and bring to her the heat of love?
    Aye, she knew. By the look of the ladies just now descending the outer stair, she knew and was come to face the man whose name carried the weight of a legend that was older and more secure than hers. Yet which of these ladies was the woman of frost?
    "She comes to you at a run, brother," Roger said on a chuckle of delight "My wager is lost before it has begun."
    "Wager?" Edward asked, "What wager and what stakes? I have a skill for winning, as you will attest."
    "Tighten your lips over your tongue," Ulrich said with a stiff-lipped growl. "We are newly entered here. Hold all until we are well within the gates. It is by such talk that wagers are blown to mist. I would not have her forewarned."
    "Ah," said Edward, "of course. A wager of women against your wiles."
    "Aye," Roger said, grinning. "A wager Ulrich fears to lose, as it is against the lady of this place, one Juliane le Gel."
    "By Saint Ambrose, can you not keep still?" Ulrich said in an undertone. "My lord?" he said more loudly as the lord of Stanora came across the bailey from the stone stairway to the battlements, his priest at his back. "Your hospitality is most generous."
    "To those who travel in the name of the king, any man would be generous," Lord Philip replied softly.
    "Then shall both the king of England and the lord of Stanora be thanked," Ulrich said with a smile.
    "All are well thanked, then," Edward said. "My lord, we met at Winchester a summer past, and you offered me the warmth of your hearth if ever I was in the region. I thank you individually for a place by your fire."
    "Yea, I remember you," Philip said. "My fire is still lit, and you shall have your place by it, but what brings you all to Stanora, or are you on some other mission which calls you elsewhere and only seek a night's repose upon my hearth?"
    "For myself," Edward said, dismounting and handing the reins to a groom, who waited expectantly for the other knights to dismount, "I am come at the bidding of the archbishop of York, a mere messenger of God and His servant, the bishop. Yet it is not to
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