Lion's Bride (14 page)

“Or do the accounts yourself.”

He reluctantly sat down. “I don’t like to be still.”

“One does what one must. Think of something else, as I did when I was a child enduring long hours at my loom.” She opened the book to the first page. This task might well last until Kadar returned, she realized crossly.

“What did you think about?”

She looked up in puzzlement and then remembered her words. “Many things. At times I would imagine the designs I would create someday. When I was very little, I dreamed of going to the bazaar. I’ve never been to one, but my mother told me of a visit there. It sounded a magical place brimming with bright copper plates and fine jewels and strange sweets.”

“And thieves and whores and the smell of fish.”

“I wouldn’t mind.” She picked up the quill. “It would be exciting. I shall go see it for myself someday. Perhaps as soon as I reach Damascus. Though I shall be very busy for quite a while.”

“You’d be disappointed. It’s nothing to see.”

His low tone held a thread of violence, and she looked up. His expression was impassive. Perhaps she had been mistaken. “You say that because you’ve already seen it.”

“I say that because it’s true.”

Again she had an impression of repressed violence. She looked back down at the figures. “Then think of something you find pleasant. What of your homeland?” She tried to remember the name. “This Scotland? Is it a fair land?”

“No, it’s a hard, mountainous land. The weather is stormy and wild. The seas are rough and the people rougher.” He added bitterly, “And they’re all barbarians, like me.”

Did he expect her to argue with him? “Then it’s no wonder you left it.”

“I would have stayed there forever, if given a choice.”

“Why?”

“Only another barbarian would understand.” He gazed beyond her at the tapestry on the wall, but she didn’t think he was seeing it. “All my life we’d been at war with the MacKillians. Douglas MacKillian bested us and took Dunlachan castle. My father was wounded in the battle and we fled to the hills. I wanted to go back and fight, but before he died, he made me promise to leave Scotland.”

“I’m surprised you gave such a promise.”

“I understood why it was important to him. I was the last of my line. If I’d been killed, even the memory of our family would have vanished.”

“So you came here?”

He shook his head. “I had to flee to England with only my horse and armor. I became a free lance and went from tournament to tournament to win prizes and increase my fame. Then the Grand Master came to England to recruit knights for the Temple. I was very young and dazzled by his words. Everyone knew only the best warriors were allowed to join the order. To be a Knight Templar was to be respected and revered as no other knight on earth.”

“But you became a monk. You gave up worldly pleasures.”

He smiled. “There were compensations. I was very content those three years I was in the order.”

“What compensations?”

He shrugged. “Oh, many things. Fine food—we ate very well to maintain our strength. Clean lodgings. Knowledge. I was an ignorant boy when I became a Templar, and I was given the opportunity to learn.”

Her gaze narrowed on his face. “But that is not all.”

“No.” He paused. “Brotherhood. I had no one, and then I had brothers.”

She almost wished she had not asked. She suddenly had a picture of a more vulnerable Ware. A tough, lonely young warrior who had needed the bonds of family and had sacrificed a great deal to get those ties. Now he was more lonely than before. She felt a surge of protectiveness. “Brothers don’t seek to kill brothers.”

His expression became shuttered. “I beg to disagree. Remember Cain and Abel.” He paused. “If you’d set yourself to those numbers and ask fewer questions, we might be out of here before nightfall.”

He’d withdrawn into that gruff, harsh shell, and it was clear no more confidences would be forthcoming. It was just as well. She was finding herself entirely too absorbed in the puzzle that was Ware of Dundragon. The more she learned, the more she wanted to delve. “If you’d set yourself to learning to add when you were among your brother monks, I’d not be having this problem. I don’t think I believe you when you say you sought knowledge at the Temple.”

“Oh, it is true.” He smiled bitterly. “But the lessons the Templars taught went beyond mere numbers and scrawled words.”

She had heard of mystical secrets and ceremonies conducted by the knights in their Temple. “Numbers are not ‘mere’ when it concerns gold flowing in all directions.” She frowned. “The cost of torches and candles is far too much. I cannot read this entry. What is the second number on—”

“Forgive me, my lord, there is something you should see,” Abdul said from the doorway.

“At once.” Ware sprang from his chair and moved toward the door.

He thought to escape and leave her to puzzle the accounts out for herself. She would not allow it. She pushed the book aside and stood up. “I’ll go also. I feel the need for a walk.” She gazed meaningfully at Ware. “It may be a long day…for both of us.”

He scowled. “I hate for you to be interrupted. You’ve just got started.”

“My lord, perhaps…” Abdul stopped and then said, “I think the Lady Thea should not see this. It may upset her.”

“What is it?” Thea asked, alarmed. “What’s happened?”

“If you didn’t want her to go, you shouldn’t have told her she should stay,” Ware muttered as he strode from the chamber.

Thea quickly followed them, almost running to match their stride as they crossed the courtyard. “What’s happened, Abdul?”

“A short time ago we saw a knight approaching the castle. He stopped just outside range of our arrows.”

Ware stopped in midstride. “Did his mantle bear the sign of the cross?”

Abdul shook his head. “He bore no mark of identification, but he rode a great white horse.”

“Christ.” Ware started toward the gates at a run. “Is he still there?”

“No, but he left something. I sent Hassan and Iman out to drag it into the courtyard.”

“And be trapped?”

“We made sure he was out of view. And, after all, he’s only one man, my lord.”

“I’ve seen that man kill eight seasoned soldiers in the space of the time it takes to lower a drawbridge.”

The drawbridge was lowering now, and Ware waited as Hassan and Iman crossed the moat. His muscles were braced, as they had been yesterday at the grove, Thea noticed. For the same cause?

“Vaden?” she asked.

He nodded curtly, his gaze on the approaching horsemen. They were dragging something behind them. A body?

She stepped forward as they reached the courtyard.

It was not a body; it was a tree. A young mulberry tree of about seven feet in length.

At least she thought it was a mulberry tree. Every limb had been hacked from its trunk, the roots cruelly severed. It was an act of cold, deliberate destruction.

She shivered as she moved to stand beside Ware. “He killed it,” she whispered. “Why would he do that? And why would he bring it here?”

Ware motioned to Abdul. “Get rid of it. I don’t want to see it again.” He turned and strode back toward the castle.

Thea took one last glance at the butchered tree before running to catch up with him. She suddenly realized Ware’s face was pale, his expression grimmer than she had ever seen it. “Why would he do that? It makes no sense.”

“You don’t venture through those gates,” he said harshly. “I don’t even want you on the battlements until after dark.”

“How could I leave the castle? You permit no one to leave without your consent.”

“How do I know what you’ll do? You might decide to go after more of your cursed mulberry leaves.”

“I told you I had a sufficient—” She stopped as she made the connection. “You believe the tree is a warning.”

“I know it’s a warning.”

She was trying to work it out. “But not against you.”

“Vaden has no doubt that I know he’s going to kill me.”

Not
try
to kill him, but
going to
kill him. He spoke as if his death by Vaden’s hand were inevitable. “Then why—” Her eyes widened in shock. “Me?”

“He saw you stop Abdul and the others from hacking off the branches. He knew I’d know what he meant.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “He wants to kill me?”

“He
doesn’t
want to do it, he feels he must. Vaden is no butcher of innocents.”

She could believe that the man who had coldly, methodically dismembered that tree was capable of anything. “You’re defending him.”

“I’m not defending him; I’m explaining. Vaden is a fair man. He could have killed you yesterday, but he wanted to give warning of his intention.”

“But why? I’ve done nothing to harm him.”

“No, you’ve done nothing. I’m at fault. I was stupid and allowed myself—Christ, you’d think I’d learn. Does the whole world have to die before I—” He turned and moved toward the stable. “Go inside and stay there. I’m going to ride out and see if I can find him.”

Fear sliced through her. He had already told Abdul how formidable Vaden was. “You’re going alone?”

He nodded grimly. “I won’t have my men pay for my stupidity. I doubt if he’ll let me find him. He flits around these mountains like a phantom.”

“He was on the third mountain….”

“Do you think me a fool? I’ve tried several times in the last two years. He’s always gone before we reach the camp.”

Like a phantom, Ware had said. A deadly phantom…“He cannot mean it. All this makes no sense.”

“He means it.” He stopped at the stable door and looked down at her. “I’ll leave orders with Abdul that if I don’t return, he’s to take you from here to a place of safety. You’re not to argue, you’re just to go. Do you understand?”

“No, I don’t understand. I don’t understand any of this.”

“Go back to the castle.” He entered the stable. “I’ve no time to explain.”

She started to follow him and then stopped. He would not be dissuaded, she realized in frustration. He would ride out and try to kill that man who had threatened her life.

It was all madness. He had to be mistaken.

But he was certain enough to risk his life to try to prevent her murder.

She moved slowly toward the castle.

Why weren’t women trained to fight their own battles instead of relying on men to do it for them? But it was not her battle. She had nothing to do with Ware of Dundragon. Fate had sent her whirling into his life to be faced with a danger she knew nothing about. It was not fair.

But she was not being fair either. He had saved her and was bringing Selene to her. If he had not bothered to replenish her supply of mulberry leaves, he wouldn’t have to venture now from the castle and seek out this madman who wanted to kill her. He was as much a victim of fate as she.

Darkness fell and Ware had still not returned.

She climbed to the falcons’ tower and stood looking out over the countryside.

No fire burned on the third mountain.

Did that mean that Vaden had turned hunter?

A chill went through her. Ware might die this night. He might already be dead.

She closed her eyes as a wave of sickness washed over her. It should not mean this much to her. He was almost a stranger, and he had never sought her friendship. In truth, he had rejected her on any number of occasions. He was a rough, arrogant warrior interested only in battle and the gold he received for fighting.

Yet he had somehow touched her. She had wanted to draw closer to him, protect him, help him. By all the saints, she should not have let it happen. Selene and her new life should be the only things of importance to her. She had told Kadar she was selfish, and she should have guarded that selfishness with all her strength.

There was no use looking back in regret, she thought wearily. He had managed to creep under her guard, so she must stop fighting and accept it. She must find a place for him.

If it was not too late.

It was close to midnight when Thea heard the challenge from the guard at the drawbridge.

She flew down the steps and was waiting when Ware rode through the gates.

“What are you doing here?” He dismounted and threw the reins of his horse to a stable boy. “The night is chill. Have you nothing better to do than wander around the courtyard at midnight?”

She was so glad to see him that she felt no anger at his surliness. She said lightly, “I suppose I could have occupied myself by checking those terrible accounts, but there’s no Dundragon without you, and I wasn’t sure you’d be back. I hate to waste time.”

He pulled off his helmet and wearily ran his hand through his hair. “I couldn’t find him.”

“Well, he didn’t find you either.” She turned and moved up the steps. “Get out of that armor and come to the Great Hall. I’ll have meat and bread ready.”

He frowned. “What if I don’t want to eat?”

“Do it anyway.” She tossed over her shoulder as she entered the castle, “I know it delights you to be contrary, but it will only hurt you to refuse to eat when you must feel hungry. You haven’t eaten all day.”

“I’m not contrary. I don’t like to be ordered about by—”

She didn’t wait for him to finish. Instead she strode quickly through the hall and down to the scullery.

She was kneeling, stoking the fire, when he entered the Great Hall. His face was clean, his hair wet, she noticed; he must have refreshed himself at the well after he’d removed his armor. She jerked her head toward the table. “Sit and eat. The meat is cold, but hunger is a fine sauce.” She gave the logs a final poke and rose to her feet. “And you are hungry, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” He sat down and picked up a piece of meat. He scowled. “And I’m not contrary.”

“Of course you are.” She sat down at the table and poured him a goblet of wine. “And stubborn and rude and most annoying.”

He glared at her suspiciously. “You’re very cheerful.”

“Because I’m glad you’re back. I discovered something while you were gone.” She made a rueful face. “I find I have a liking for you.”

He stopped with the meat halfway to his mouth. “I beg your pardon?”