THE SOLDIERS STOOD at stiff attention, swords and lances raised in salute. The duke galloped into their midst. He raised his arm to salute them, then grinned triumphantly at Bertrand and Marcel Gamier, his seneschal, the steward of his estate.

Almost as an afterthought, he turned to Anne.

Stephen then jumped off his mount. His hair had grown long and wild since she had seen him last, like a Goth's. His cheeks were hard edged and gaunt. Yet he still carried that narrow glint in his eyes. As was his duty, he came up to her. It had been almost two years.

Welcome, my husband. Anne stepped forward. To God's grace that He has brought you safely home.

To God's grace, Stephen said with a smile, that you have shined like such a beacon as to guide me back.

He kissed her on both cheeks, but the embrace was empty and without warmth. I have missed you, Anne, he said, in the way a man might exult in seeing the health of his favorite steed.

I have counted the days as well, she replied coldly.

Welcome, my lord. Stephen's advisers rushed forth.

Bertrand, Marcel. He held out his arms. I trust the reason you have come all this way to greet me is not that we have misplaced our beautiful city.

I assure you your beautiful city still stands. The chatelain grinned. Stronger than ever.

And the treasury even more filled than when you left, promised the seneschal.

All this later. Stephen waved a hand. We've been riding nonstop since we docked. My ass feels like it's been kicked all the way from Toulon. Tend to my men. We are all as hungry as beggars. And I... He mooned his eyes at Anne.... I must attend to my lovely wife.

Come, husband, Anne said, trying to seem teasing before his men. I will try and kick it toward Paris, so as to even it out.

All around them laughed. Anne led him to their large tent draped in green and gold silk. Once inside, Stephen's loving look disappeared. You perform well, my wife.

It was no performance. I am glad for your return. For your son's sake. And if it has brought you back a gentler man.

War rarely has that effect, Stephen answered. He sat on a stool and removed his cloak. Come here. Help with these boots. I will show you just what a petting pup I've become.

His hair fell over his tunic, greasy and grayed. His face was sharp and filthy from the road. He smelled like a boar.

You look like the wars have left you no worse for wear, Anne remarked.

And you, Anne, Stephen said, reaching out to pull her down to him, you look like a dream from which I am not yet willing to awaken.

Then awaken now. She pulled herself away. It was her duty to tend to him. Remove his boots, rinse out the damp cloth around his neck. But there was no way in hell she would let him touch her. I have not sat alone for two years to be mounted b............