Bernarr stopped his horse, clenching his teeth. Such impudence! Even so, he turned and rode back to where the young lord sat fiddling nervously with the reins. ‘Follow me then,’ he said. ‘Let us get out of these woods and go somewhere no one can listen to this “private conversation”.’
He broke from the woods into meadowland starred with yellow flowers, drying slightly to a golden shade as the summer grew late, and rode up a hill. Birds broke out of the tall grass before them as the horses’ hooves threw up clods of earth. Bernarr kept the pace to a hard gallop until he came to the top of the rise. They stopped just short of the cliffs, the sea below a glorious vista. Gulls wheeled overhead.
Zakry pulled up past him, patting his horse’s neck. ‘Magnificent,’ he proclaimed, taking a deep breath.
‘What do you want?’ Bernarr asked impatiently.
‘My lord,’ Zakry said, ‘the Lady Elaine should never have left Rillanon: she pines for it, and even you can see that she is thin and pale. She should return to the capital. This is not the life for her! She needs excitement and the glamour of the court. I would ask you, for her sake, my lord, to put her aside.’
Bernarr stared at him in disbelief. ‘I beg your pardon?’ he said. ‘Would you repeat yourself, sir?’
Zakry looked surprised. ‘My lord, I assumed you to be a man of the world. You must have known that Elaine and I were lovers.’ He laughed nervously. ‘Certainly you knew she wasn’t a virgin.’
‘Stop!’ Bernarr shouted. His knuckles were white on the reins and his eyes were wide, his breath whistling through his teeth as he tried to contain his fury.
‘I love her,’ Zakry said, as if the older man hadn’t spoken. ‘I never should have let her go. But it isn’t too late, you could have the marriage annulled. She would thank you for it.’
‘Put her aside? Are you mad? Elaine would die of shame if I were to do such a thing!’
‘It is what she wants, sir! She loves me, my lord. And I know she wishes to be with me. Please, have pity on us and let us be together.’
Bernarr made no attempt to hide his rage. ‘You will return to the castle now! Pack and leave my house and take the first ship from Land’s End you find, or I will not answer for your life beyond sunset.’ Turning to ride away, he wrenched at the rein with a strength that brought a squeal of protest from the horse.
‘Sir!’ Zakry shouted. ‘You will listen to me!’ He dug his spurs into his horse’s flanks and nearly collided with the Baron’s bay.
Will he lay hands on me, on my own land? Bernarr wondered. But he said nothing. With a whistle of effort, he turned and struck the other man hard with the back of his fisted gauntlet, iron studs ripping into flesh. Zakry fell back with a cry of pain. His cheek was laid open to the bone within a fraction of an inch of one eye. He dropped his reins and raised both hands in a protective gesture.
Zakry’s horse backed, confused and frightened, and flung up its head. Bernarr’s horse, sensing its rider’s anger and knowing the reins had gone slack, became excited. It laid back its ears, spun and kicked. Zakry’s horse, struck hard in the chest, reared. Making a single protesting whinny—almost like the cry of a giant child—it stepped backwards and to the side: one, two, then a third step.
And suddenly they were both gone.
Bernarr pulled hard on the reins, forcing his fractious mount into a tight circle. When he had finally re-established command, he slowly guided the horse to the edge of the cliff and stood up in his stirrups to look over the edge.
Both man and horse had disappeared. Below him, the wild waves crashed around fanged rocks, the spray tossing up forty or fifty feet at each great surge and making the solid granite of the cliffs tremble. Then, briefly, he saw the barrel of the dead horse amidst the breakers, the retreating tide pulling the animal out to sea. Of Zakry there was no sign.
Zakry’s disappearance was explained away by a contrived excuse: a message from the east, the need for him to return home by the first ship; and the willingness of those who listened not to offend their host by showing disbelief. Zakry’s luggage was sent to town the next day, to follow him to Rillanon, and Elaine’s friends continued to enjoy her husband’s hospitality. Elaine seemed distant and withdrawn.
Days later Bernarr had to send for a chirurgeon to examine Elaine, for she had taken to bed and complained of being ill.
‘I have the most happy news for you, my lord,’ the man gushed.
‘My lady is not ill,’ Bernarr said, his lips lifting in a smile.
‘Even better, my lord!’ The man preened as though he’d worked a marvel. ‘The Baroness is with child! Quick work, my lord, eh?’
The Baron stared at him, his face an unreadable mask. He remained motionless, until the chirurgeon bowed again. ‘My steward will see to your fee,’ Bernarr said coldly and. went into the house. Yet even the chirurgeon’s vulgarity could not destroy his delight at the news, or his relief that Elaine was not truly ill. He went directly to her rooms.