The White Lord of Wellesbourne by Kathryn Le Veque

that supported
the mattress, his arms and legs bound to each post.  It took her a moment to
realize that it was Adam Wellesbourne.
    She shoved the door open and
entered the room. The old man lay with his eyes closed and she thought he was
sleeping. Greatly troubled as to why he was captive, she leaned over to make
sure he was at least uninjured. He did not seem to be, but he smelled like
vomit. That was where the horrible stench in the room was coming from. She was
about to untie one of the bindings when his eyes abruptly flew open.
    “My lady,” he blinked, surprised
to see her. “What… what are you doing here?”
    “I was passing by and….” She was
more concerned for him than she was interested in explaining her presence. “Are you all right? Have you been injured?”
    “I am not injured.
    “Then why are you tied like this?
Who has done this to you?”
    The first binding fell away and
his right arm came down. Most of the circulation had gone out of it and he
feebly tried to move the limb around as she went for the bindings on his feet.
    “Matthew,” he said. “But it is
not as it appears.”
    Alixandrea froze, her eyes
widening. “Sir Matthew tied you up?”
    “Aye, but he had to.”
    “He had to?” Her distress
was turning to outrage. “What do you mean by that? He had to tie you to your
bed, with no food and no fire? What kind of cruel, barbaric man is your son
that he would do this to his own father?”
    A foot came loose and he moved
his leg around to regain the blood flow. “There are things that you do not
understand,” he said as his other leg became free. “In time, things will become
clear. In time you will understand.”
    It was an evasive answer.  It
only served to infuriate her, perhaps because she thought now that her
impressions of Matthew’s gallantry and benevolence were only a myth. The man
who had shown her such kindness was apparently the Devil in disguise.  It was a
sickening thought and a frightening one. She had been living on giddy dreams
for the past several hours. It was horrendously disappointing to think that
those dreams were about to turn into nightmares.
    The sounds of big boots suddenly
echoed in the doorway, sounding flat and hollow against the planked floor. Her
fingers on the last binding, Alixandrea looked up to see Matthew standing in
the doorway.
    He had a shocked expression on
his face.  Startled, and more than afraid, Alixandrea moved away from the bed.
    “You…” she hissed at him.
    Matthew’s brow furrowed. “What
are you doing here, my lady?”
    Alarmed, angered, she made a dash
for the hearth and picked up the closest thing she could find, which happened
to be the shovel.  It wasn’t much of a weapon but it was the best she could do.
She rushed at him, wielding it in front of her.
    “Get away,” she growled, putting
herself between Matthew and his father. “Get away from him or I swear that I
shall fight you to the death.”
    Matthew wasn’t sure what was
going on and put up his hands, slowly. “I am unarmed, lady.  Why do you
threaten me?”
    “Why do you tie up a defenseless
old man?”
    “Ask him.”
    “I did.”
    “What did he say?”
    “That you tied him up. Why would
you do such a thing?”
    Matthew’s momentary confusion
faded and he began to understand what she must think of the situation. It still
did not explain how she got here, but that would come later. He realized the
need to diffuse the situation quickly.
    “My lady, though your defense of
my father is most noble, it is unnecessary,” he lowered his hands. “What I did,
I did for my father’s own good. Ask him.”
    The Devil had a smooth tongue. He
did not seem insincere or extreme, like the cruel fiend she had imagined would
do such a thing. Now it was her turn to be confused.  Keeping the shovel in
front of her, she looked at Adam. “What does he mean, my lord?”
    Adam finished releasing the
bindings on his one remaining hand. He stood up, unsteadily, his gaze