The Raven and the Rose Read Online Free Page A

“Attend me,” he said to Alain, and headed off to the communal bathing tent. The squire hurried along with a pile of clean clothing.
    Rannulf had found quarters in the village, which had proved wise in recent rains, when the camp had run with streams and tents had let in water. It meant Michael was walking past people’s homes and shops, but after a month they were used to seeing fighting men on the way to the bathhouse. He attracted little attention other than the usual saucy comments from the women. That reminded him that there were only children, matrons and crones left in Allacorn village. Any nubile young women of respectable families had been sent away to safety. Good thing the army traveled with its own whores.
    In the camp men called out congratulations on his defeat of Willie Sea. It all sounded good-humored, but Michael knew he’d made himself a target. Tomorrow, some would strive to defeat him for the reflected glory. He was going to have to keep winning or pay ransoms until his purse was empty.
    That didn’t seem to matter.
    Only his bride. His beloved.
    â€œSir?” Alain prompted, and Michael realized he was standing in the street like an idiot. He moved on, but he couldn’t stop his eyes from searching for her. Insanity.
    But when he found her, he’d marry her, even if he had to carry her off in the teeth of opposition from her family. He was only a younger son, without land or fortune, but . . .
    Alain nudged him. “To your left. The duke!”
    Michael jerked back into the moment and turned to see Henry of Anjou. The duke was supposed to be in Nottingham besieging the castle, ten leagues away, not here with the force set to guard the road from the south. Lack of action near Allacorn had led to boredom and the informal tournament, but Michael wondered if the duke had come to put a stop to it. He was known to think tourney fighting a waste of time, and for his temper.
    He seemed in good humor, however, joking with his entourage of barons and knights. Perhaps the siege had become tedious. The duke was well-known for his boundless energy, so it would be like him to dash over here to see the situation for himself.
    He was sandy haired, with nothing extraordinary about his looks, two years younger than Michael and a head shorter, but the vibrant energy and power that infused him could take the breath away. If energy and power could win a crown, Henry of Anjou would have England, and soon.
    Michael gathered his wits and bowed.
    â€œMichael de Loury,” Duke Henry said in his gruff voice. “Your father holds Moreborn Castle in Herefordshire.”
    â€œYes, my lord,” said Michael, impressed by the man’s ability to remember such details. He didn’t know whether Henry of Anjou had the right to the throne or not, but he’d support him anyway for his brains and fighting prowess.
    â€œYou’re the talk of the camp, de Loury. I don’t normally approve of tourney fighting, but bored men are troublesome, and skills must be practiced. De Bohun and I will field parties in tomorrow’s melee.” He shot a sharp glance at one of the lords around him, and Michael wondered if there was more than friendly rivalry there. “I’ve wagered money, and I intend to win. Will you be in my party?”
    Michael had no choice but to bow again. “I’m honored, my lord.”
    â€œGood; my side must win. Make sure it does.” The duke moved on and Michael did, too, but so much for his mother’s advice to mask his abilities.
    â€œAn honor!” Alain declared excitedly. “You’ll really show them tomorrow. You’ll leave the rest in the dust.”
    â€œIf God wills,” Michael said, beginning to see the bright side.
    He had the attention of the future king of England, but to make anything of it he must fight his best and ensure that the duke’s party won. Success could put his feet on the path to greatness,