Dream of Me/Believe in Me

to the king and from them both to the swiftly expanding circle of armed men gathering around them. Alfred's men some of them, but now pouring in from all sides the men of the Hawk. They were coming from every corner, every direction, some off the training fields, others from their leisure. All armed, all with the keen-eyed readiness of the most superb fighting force in all of England, renowned even above the army of Alfred himself. Men bloodied in battle, spoken of as legends, whispered to have followed their lord into the very maw of hell. Men who would die for him without hesitation but who were far more likely to kill without a second thought.
    “You know damn well I cannot flog you!” Udell protested. “I would not live to take two steps!”
    Hawk did not bother to deny it. Indeed, the notion amused him. Cheerfully, as though offering a friendly suggestion, he said, “We could try single combat. If I fall to you, my men are honor bound not to take vengeance.”
    Udell's mouth twisted convulsively. Single combat against the Hawk. There were men who had done that. Of course, none of them happened to be alive. “Are you challenging me?” the Mercian demanded, and his voice broke on the brittle edge of fear.
    Hawk's smile deepened. Seeing it, Krysta shivered and even Alfred paled slightly. The Lord of Essex, vanquisher of the Danes, champion of his people, the most feared warrior in all of Britain, glanced around at the watching lords and ladies who had thought to rise to ever greater power on the ambitions of the man who now stood before him cringing in the face of certain death. Slowly, he returned his attention to Udell. In a voice that carried to the far reaches of the circle, he said, “Not yet.”
    The words still reverberated on the air when the Mercians dispersed. They went swiftly, the ladies tripping over their gowns and the lords elbowing them out of the way in their haste to be gone. Udell went too, but not without difficulty. Esa gripped his arm, struggling to hold him back. In the rush to be away, her coif had been knocked to one side and there was a rip in the sleeve of her under tunic.
    “He has insulted you!” she cried out. “And
she
has done even worse! You cannot let them go unpunished!”
    “What would you have me do?” her brother demanded. He spared one more look at Hawk and scowled at Esa. “Die? Would that satisfy you, you greedy, grasping harridan?”
    At her outraged shriek, Udell raised his hand and cuffed her so hard that she fell back into a pile of offal deposited by the horses. He went on without another look, disappearing around a corner of the stable. Krysta took astep toward the filthy, stunned woman only to be stopped by Hawk, who simply lifted her off the ground so that her feet moved to no effect.
    “If you would excuse us, my lord,” Hawk said courteously, “we have troubled you long enough.”
    Alfred worked hard to confine a grin but failed entirely. He laughed outright when Hawk tossed a shocked and protesting Krysta over his shoulder. Her objections were drowned out by Hawk's own men joining in the relieved merriment. Guffaws and helpful suggestions to their lord trailed off behind them as Hawk strode back to the royal residence.
    “Put me down!” Krysta demanded before they had passed through the double doors to the great hall.
    Hawk ignored her and kept right on going. Passing startled servants, surprised priests, amused lords, and, it seemed to Krysta, most of the population of Winchester, he stopped finally at the entrance to his own quarters, shoved the door open with his foot, and walked into the chamber. Without pause, he went straight to the bed and dumped her on it. She came up quickly on her elbows in time to see him stride back to the door and drop the heavy wooden bar across it. Assured they would not be interrupted, Hawk returned his attention to his wayward betrothed.
    Standing beside the bed, he began removing his boots. Half bent over, tugging them off, he said matter-of-factly, “You are the most infuriating woman I have ever known.”
    Krysta looked at him cautiously. He didn't sound angry and he certainly didn't look it but she knew him far too well to be misled by that. Udell had walked the keen edge of death only a short time before because of Hawk's concealed rage. That it was so little in evidence meant nothing.
    “What are you doing?”
    He looked up at her, as though surprised she had to ask. “Taking my boots