Davydd followed as readily as the dog, up the winding stairs to the chamber above the hall. But within it there was no bath, nor his baggage. There was only a cold hearth and a bare floor. He turned to find a servant on the threshold behind him, staring confused and appalled before at last he bowed low to the ground.

“Up!” He gestured impatiently, and the servant stood. The way he cringed grated on Ranulf. The fool likely thought he would be thrown down the stairs for impertinence. “Make haste to find the steward. I wait here for my room to be made ready.”

With a stumble, the servant fled as though pursued by demons from hell, leaving an awkward silence behind.

“Shall I bring you mead, my lord? Or ale?” Davydd stood near the door, clearly desperate for something to do. A fine squire, bereft of a knight to serve.

“Nay, it will be brought without you wander to discover it.”

Barely had he said it when the sound of feet pounding on the stairs reached them. He gestured at Davydd to move farther into the room, so that he was out of the way when Hugh Wisbech rushed in.

“I beg mercy, my lord.” Hugh’s breathing was labored with the rush up the stairs. From his deep bow he gestured with urgency to the servant behind him, who brought forth a satisfyingly large cup of ale. “In my foolishness did I have the lord’s chamber prepared instead.”

“But I am the lord and this be my chamber, Hugh.” His voice was steady, calm. The steward blanched nonetheless.

Ranulf observed the two servants who appeared now, carrying a carpet between them and looking at him as though he might order them roasted for his supper.

The anger came sudden, like a storm from off the sea. It was beyond reason, he knew as he felt it sweep through him and steal his breath. But the panicked way they looked at him, when he had done naught but stand silent and waiting, maddened him. He was not a beast, no matter that they looked at him so. No matter that he felt like one, when they startled at his least movement.

He wanted to shout at them for it, to throw them bodily from the room. Puling infants, to look at an unarmed man with such dread. But he steadied himself with a swallow of ale. He schooled his face to reveal nothing but a benevolent lord. Whatever that may look like, he thought helplessly.

Loyalty and love, she had said only a few moments ago. He did not know much of either, but he reckoned it would serve neither to throw the cup at them in a rage and command them to end this excessive cowering.