Courtly Love (37 page)

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Catherine heard the drumming of hoofbeats before the knight in charge of the watch reached her with the news of approaching visitors. She slipped quietly from the room, nodding her approval to the squire who immediately took his place in front of the door to her chamber, and descended to the hall at the same instant that the group of armed men entered.

The tallest of the knights detached himself from the party and strode toward his hostess. "Catherine. How is Bryan?"

"He will live, God be praised!" Catherine smiled as her hands were kissed. "And you, Gyles?"

"Weary. Dirty." Gyles's lips twisted into a parody of a smile but the muted green eyes were cold. "Is there any news of Serena?"

Catherine's smile faded and she drew Gyles up to her. "Bryan wanted to see you the moment you arrived. I will warn you now, say naught of this . . . this tragedy if Aurelia is near. Bryan feels he can see her fine hand in all of this."

"I noted you have doubled the men on the battlements," Gyles commented. "Are you as well protected within?"

"Yes. I have guards patrolling the courtyard, grounds and corridors, also men posted at our chamber door day and night. Yourself, Evan, and Alan?"

"I left orders, they will be well-guarded."

They paused before entering the chamber and Catherine turned to Gyles. "It has been a week and for most of that time Bryan hovered between life and death. Try not to react to his appearance."

Bryan had lost weight and dark circles ringed his sunken eyes, but when Gyles approached the bed, Bryan's eyes flew open, revealing the life that flared within. "Gyles ... good to see you."

Gyles grasped Bryan's outstretched arm. "Are you well enough to tell me what happened?"

Bryan pulled himself upright with a groan, and Catherine hastened to push several pillows behind his back. "Leave us, Catherine."

"But—" Catherine protested.

"Now, Catherine!" Bryan barked, then softened at her wounded look. "Please, Catherine."

Bryan waited until he was certain Catherine was safely away. "I am sorry, Gyles. I shall spend the rest of my days regretting my weakness in giving in to Serena's request. Had I been more firm, she would be alive today."

"Are you so certain Serena is dead?" Gyles availed himself of a chair and stretched his long legs in front of him.

Bryan's face registered surprise. "If she were alive, Serena would have found a way to return here, or at least get a message to us. Her mount was found grazing near the place where we were attacked, but there was no sign of Serena. Surely you do not believe Serena simply walked away?"

"What of Richard?" Gyles ignored Bryan's question.

"God alone knows that." Bryan raised his hands in a gesture of helplessness. "He has vanished without a sign —Catherine sent a rider to his father but he hasn't seen Richard since .. ."

"Do you believe him?" Gyles asked sharply, then sighed when Bryan nodded

"Gyles," Bryan carefully phrased his question. "How fared ... I mean, Serena and yourself, there were no .. . problems?"

"If you are wondering if Serena ran away with Richard to escape me, the answer is no. There was no need—we were reconciled. But we are making no progress, tell me as much as you remember about the attack."

Slowly, painfully, Bryan set about explaining the day of the attack, beginning with his argument with Serena and culminating at his own wounds and loss of conciousness. Bryan spared not himself, for he was convinced he had missed some signal that should have warned him of the trap. And Richard's treachery was disclosed for the first time—a revelation far more painful to Bryan than the injury he had incurred. Bryan's tale of Serena's bravery brought a smile to Gyles's lips; he could well imagine his wife using a sword on those so foolhardy as to think a woman would stand by and watch her brother murdered.

"I do not understand." Bryan fell back against his pillows. "I have done naught to earn Richard's hate and God knows neither has Serena, yet he would not raise a hand in our defense."

Gyles mulled Bryan's recital over thoughtfully before he responded quietly, "Oh, but you did. I told you upon my last visit that I thought Richard had taken leave of his senses—I am certain of it now. You were an obstacle that stood between himself and Serena. You were quite willing to return Serena to her husband, and to Richard that was unforgivable."

"Then why not wait 'til Serena was on her way back to you?" Bryan argued. "Even if I died, Serena would still be married to you, she would not be free to wed Richard."

The two men were silent for a time before Bryan suddenly swore and Gyles started.

"Did Serena ever speak to you of Father's death?" "A bit," Gyles admitted. "Why?" "I'm not certain but Serena felt Aurelia murdered Father. I don't know why, she would never tell me, but Serena was positive Aurelia had a hand in it. What I am trying to say is, just before I passed out I heard Richard shout: 'Not the girl. I was promised.' "

"Then 'twas you the men were after, not Serena?" Gyles said slowly. "But why?"

Bryan frowned. "If I die without issue, Broughton goes to Serena." Gyles shot out of his chair. "You did not know? Of course, there was no reason for Serena to tell you—I am young, there was little chance of my death. So Aurelia saw to it that I should meet with an accident."

"But she would not gain Broughton even if you died. By your own words, 'twould go to Serena."

"And through Serena to you," Bryan stated calmly. "You would benefit through both our deaths." Bryan waved Gyles back to his chair as he began to advance to the bed, "I know you had no part in this. But somehow, Aurelia stands to benefit if you inherit Broughton."

"How?" Gyles snarled angrily.

"I do not know." Bryan sighed. "At that point my reasoning fails. But I know this—my sister is dead."

"No!" Gyles bellowed. "She lives! She lives!"

Bryan studied Gyles compassionately. " Tis hard, I know, Gyles, but you must accept it."

"No!" Gyles repeated quietly. Then, unconsciously, he mimicked Nellwyn's words and gesture as he touched his hand to his chest. "I would have felt her death here. I will not believe 'til I see her body with my own eyes."

Bryan closed his eyes. "You may never find her body, Gyles, there are wolves in the forest. You know as well as I what a pack of wolves can do to a body."

"Then I had better organize searching parties." Gyles rose. "Have I your leave to make use of Broughton's men?"

"Of course, Gyles. Take as many as you need." When Gyles left, Bryan turned his face to the pillow and wept as he had wished to do since he had become aware that Serena was dead.

T
he search began immediately, men from both lands who once would have spent their time squabbling were now united in one goal. Not only Broughton's knights, but freeman and serf alike gathered in the courtyard to see if the arrival of Lady Serena's husband would effect any changes in the pall that had hung over the castle for a week. If Gyles was surprised by the turnout of manpower, he hid it well, sending only an inquisitive look to a gnarled old man standing near the steps of the castle.

"Will you look for the lass?" Rheumy eyes fixed themselves on Gyles intently, blinking rapidly when he nodded. " Tis time, too. The lass saved me from death once— I pray I can do the same for her."

Gyles clapped the old man's shoulder, barely able to speak over the thickness clogging his throat. "Thank you."

Then he was once again in control of his emotions and in a cool, deliberate voice Gyles explained what was required of the assembled men. Broughton's stables were emptied and mounts of various sizes and descriptions were supplied by the freemen who were lucky enough to own them. Speed was utmost in Gyles's mind and mounted men covered more ground than those afoot. The sea of humanity broke into small groups, two knights to a group, and started for the gaming forest—they would begin where the attack had taken place and from there spread out into a circular pattern, like a spider spinning a giant web.

Gyles swung lightly into the saddle he had vacated so recently and set off with his own party. He was a knight, a man of deeds in place of words, and he doubted not that he would find Serena—it was easier on his soul to have a physical task to occupy his body and thoughts; there would be no time for brooding.

From that day forward Broughton was alive with activity, men arose and left their pallets at dawn not to return 'til the sun gave way to the moon. No man complained at the pace that was set, for if Gyles drove them hard, he drove himself with a merciless determination that seemed to stem from inhuman strength. The pattern of the search grew, the circle widening day by day; a hundred eyes seeking, probing, looking for a sign—any sign—that would mean Serena still lived.

All that was uncovered after a week's time was a scrap of blood-stained cloth that Catherine identified as having come from Serena's dress. Silently Gyles folded the scrap and placed it inside his tunic.

"Surely you realize what this means, Gyles." Bryan had regained his strength sufficiently to allow him to join the others at table.

"It means Serena was able to walk to the edge of the forest," Gyles replied, turning from the fire.

"It means she is dead!" Bryan shouted, his patience at an end partly from Gyles's obstinance and his own inability to join in the search. "Give it up, Gyles, for my sanity if not your own."

"No," Gyles answered curtly and stalked off to his chamber.

The days and weeks plodded forward. The search parties varied in composition, crops had to be harvested, which meant the serfs returned to their land. Armor, weapons, saddles, all had to be repaired at times, so freemen returned briefly to their forges. Knights grew weary, as did their mounts, and Gyles worked out a rotating schedule so that each knight searched for one month and rested the following month. But not Gyles—the little excess weight he had gained during the summer melted quickly away, the muscles that had grown lax from disuse were stretched and worked until they were as tautly drawn as a bowstring, the arrogance that was so much a part of his features was refined with a grim determination that was seldom broken by a smile. Above all else there was a haunted bitterness in the depths of Gyles's emerald eyes, which Serena would have despaired at had she seen.

Too late Gyles had learned to love, too late the man had given freely of his heart and his lesson had brought an unending sorrow. Once every fortnight Gyles rode to Camden to insure that all went well during his prolonged absence. The first words from Alan's lips were always the same: questions of Serena and her return. And Gyles's answer was automatic: soon. Nellwyn would turn away so neither father nor son would see the tears that sprang to her eyes.

One night in November, Alan unexpectedly forced the truth of the situation painfully into Gyles's soul. They were seated on the floor of the nursery arranging Alan's wooden knights into battle lines while Evan gurgled happily on a pelt in front of the hearth. "When Serena comes home do I have to call her Serena, Father?"

Gyles picked up an elaborately carved mounted knight. "What will you call her instead?" Gyles teased with a smile.

"Well!" Alan moved an archer to a different position. "Could I call her Mother?" The toy dropped from Gyles's numbed fingers and Alan, fearing he had angered his father, hurried to explain. "I know my mother is dead, but . . . couldn't we . . . I . . . pretend? Serena wouldn't be angry, would she?"

Gyles stared mutely at his son, the power of speech completely deserting him as his mind raced back to the day he had found Alan and Serena swimming in the pool. How angry he had been that day, how furious because he thought Serena had taken a lover.
Oh, God,
Gyles thought wretchedly,
am I to spend the rest of my life being reminded of the short time I had with Serena?
Evan emitted a particularly happy sound and Gyles shifted his gaze to the babe.
All my life, to the end of my days
.

Nellwyn came to Gyles's rescue. "Come, lad, 'tis time ye had yer bath so Evan can have his supper."

She bustled Alan from the room as the wet nurse entered, then hesitated when Gyles placed Evan in her arms.

"Go ahead," Gyles instructed gruffly. "Can you not see the babe is hungry?'"

"Aye, m'lord." But she eyed Gyles hesitantly.

"Then feed him!" Gyles exploded. "And stop looking like a frightened cow!" He left the chamber with a slam that fairly shook the stones of the castle.

* * *

Nellwyn found Gyles standing on the battlements, his cloak billowing around him in the wind. Summoning up her courage, Nellwyn touched Gyles's arm.

"The boys are nearly asleep, m'lord; that is, Evan be sleeping and Alan wants ye to hear his prayers. And I've calmed Evan's nurse, poor lass."

Gyles sighed. "I shall apologize before I leave tomorrow. I must have frightened her half to death."

"Aye, that ye did." Nellwyn heartily agreed. "Have ye decided what to tell Alan?"

"That I believe Serena would be honored if he addressed her as mother. No argument, Nellwyn," Gyles told her sternly.

" 'Twill be worse later, when ye cannot hide the truth any longer," Nellwyn remonstrated. Gyles stiffened and started to walk away but Nellwyn caught his arm and spun him back to face her. "Ye tried, Lord Gyles, no man could have done more, but give it up now! She's gone! Ye have the babes to think of. Do ye want Evan to grow up without a father as well as a mother?"

"Evan shall have both."

There was nothing to be gained by arguing further and Nellwyn turned sadly away to seek her chamber.