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her eyes fixed on the man who had struck him down.
    Kristen struck blindly at a man who appeared on her right to challenge her, leaving him behind. And then she was there, before her brother’s killer, and fending off his first thrust. Their eyes met just before her sword entered his flesh. She noted that his blue eyes widened perceptibly as she pulled her sword out, but it was the last thing she saw.

Chapter Six
    A single candle cast a subdued light in the small chamber. A narrow bed rested against one wall, with a large coffer at its foot. Covering the opposite wall was a large tapestry of a field of summer flowers with children frolicking. On another hung a highly polished steellike glass, with a narrow shelf below holding an assortment of items from jewel-studded pins and bone comb cases, to tiny colored bottles of floral scents, and a thickly padded bench before it.
    A tall carved post stood in a corner of the chamber with wooden pegs running down its length, an ornament in itself, draped as it was with sheer veils and ribbons of different colors. At the only window hung strips of bright-yellow silk, a sheer waste of a most expensive cloth. There were two high-backed chairs set by a small round table with a painted ceramic vase of red roses on it.
    The chairs were presently draped with the clothes of the two occupants on the bed. The chamber belonged to the woman, Corliss of Raedwood, a small-boned beauty of a score and one years, who was quite vain of her luxuriant red-gold tresses and eyes the color of rich chocolate.
    Corliss was the betrothed of the man lying with her, Royce of Wyndhurst, one of King Alfred’s nobles. Four years ago she had been offered to him for wife, but was refused. This past winter she had pestered and coerced her father as only a beloved daughter can, to offer heragain, and this time she was accepted. But she knew she was accepted this last time only because she had managed to get Lord Royce to her chamber, where she had thrown herself at him, and he, drunk from her father’s feast, had taken her.
    Giving herself to Royce that night was no great sacrifice for Corliss, though she hoped he had not realized it, for she had been with one other man before him. Only one, though, for after that first time, she had decided that this part of the man-woman relationship was not to her liking at all. Yet she knew she would have to grit her teeth and bear it often once she was married to Royce.
    It was a sign of her determination that in spite of disliking his lovemaking, Corliss still offered herself to Royce each time he came to visit her, which was fortunately not often. She was afraid that if she withheld herself from him now, before the wedding, he would break the betrothal. After all, he did not really want a wife. He was only a score and seven years, and in no great hurry to tie himself down. At least, that was the excuse he had used often enough to the fathers of marriageable daughters. There was another reason known too, though he never used it. He had been betrothed previously, five years ago, to a girl he had loved. He had lost her three days before they were to wed and had loved no other girl since.
    Corliss was of the opinion that Royce would never love again. He certainly did not love her, nor did he pretend to. She did not even have an alliance with her father to dangle before him, for Royce and her father were friends. A marriage was not needed to keep them friends. She was as sure now as she had been when she first did it, that the offer of her body had been the only condition that had swayed him.
    If Royce were not so desirable as a husband, Corliss would just as soon never marry. But the fact was, everymaiden for miles around wanted Royce of Wyndhurst for herself, including Corliss’s three sisters. It was understandable, for not only was he rich and favored by the King, he was also a handsome man, even if he was so incredibly big—more than a foot taller than Corliss, in fact. His