Authors: Sophia Johnson
Tags: #romance, #paranormal, #sexy, #historical, #sensual, #intense, #scottish, #medieval, #warrior women, #alpha heroes, #love through the ages, #strongwilled
Footsteps approached the outer door, but
before they could even scratch, Edulf threw it open. Two servants
carried in trays with hot porridge, hard cooked eggs, bread fresh
from the baker, honey, fruit, ale and a small pitcher of milk.
Raik looked at Leofwan, who was trying to
hide a smile. "Is Edulf always this efficient?" He watched the
servants spread the food out on a table and place two chairs there,
then Edulf and the servants quietly left the room.
"Always."
"Good." He motioned for Leofwan to sit as he
finished lacing his boots.
"The late baron went through this routine
each morn?"
"Aye. He liked to plan his day as he broke
his fast."
"Might as well. Eating would be wasted time
if one sat and only stuffed his belly." As he poured honey on a
hunk of hot bread, he looked up at the older man.
"I have settled on the chain of command I
mentioned yestermorn."
Leofwan nodded his head and studied him with
his one eye. "Do you wish me to retire to the village?"
"Nay. If you would serve as my advisor, I
would value you a great deal. I have need of your experience and
skills. In more ways than one." He had not missed the fact that
this one-armed man seemed to have understanding and influence over
Letia. He might have need of his advice on how to curb her. "I
understand Sir Edmund was the late baron's first in command and
also oversaw the castle defenses. 'Twas a heavy burden to place on
one man."
As he talked, Leofwan ate his porridge, not
flinching when the steaming gruel entered his mouth. Raik, thinking
it wasna as hot as it appeared, tried to do the same. He needed to
grab a mouthful of ale. Once he swallowed, he poured milk over the
rest, cooling it a bit.
Leofwan smiled. "Aye. Edmund took over my
duties as commander after my injuries. A one-armed man cannot be
the first to lead men onto a battlefield."
"Sir Cormac will assume that duty. Sir Edmund
will lead the castle defenses." Raik downed several spoonfuls of
porridge before biting into an apple. "Starting on the morrow, all
will meet here as we have this day. What think ye?"
"A solid plan, my lord."
Raik stilled, hearing sounds of cursing and
scrabbling coming up the rear stairwell. A youthful voice broke,
frustration apparent from trying to sound commanding.
"Hold back, you massive pile of black shite!
Umpf." The clatter of Giles falling on the floor and then sounds of
scuffling followed.
Raik threw open the door and, hands on hips,
watched in sympathy as Freki hauled Giles behind him, the young man
holding tight to the rope he had tied about the beast's neck.
"Freki. Stay!" Raik commanded.
The dog stopped, turned baleful eyes up at
him and bared his teeth.
"Ssst!" Raik bent, his hand flashed out and
his fingertips prodded hard at the side of the beast's neck before
they latched on to the flesh there. Freki tried to snap. "Ssst!"
Raik yanked. Hard. The dog lowered himself to the ground,
submissive.
"He did not like being separated from his
lady last eve." Giles stood and dusted off his legs. "I had to lace
his meat with a small sleeping potion."
"Where has he passed the nights afore?"
"In a corner of the baron's sleeping
chamber."
Raik turned to Leofwan, his face
questioning.
"Aye. Warin allowed it, saying he was swifter
than any sword as protection for his lady."
"Hmm." Raik frowned. "What of the bairn?"
"When Aubrey was born, Freki took one sniff
and settled beside the bed to guard him. You would think the babe
is his pup."
Raik nodded his head. "I see no need to
change his sleeping place then."
He looked toward the lightening of the sky
outside the solar window and buckled on his belt and sword. He was
pleased when Leofwan followed him out of the room. As they hurried
down the stairwell, the familiar pounding of his boots on the steps
and his sword clattering now and again against the stone wall, gave
him a surge of pride. 'Twas the first time he heard the sounds of
his starting a day's work at Seton castle.
His
castle. Not another's.
o0o
As dawn was breaking over the forest behind
the rear barbican, Raik leaned on his sword set firmly in the
ground and studied Sir William. They had fought for a goodly time,
but now he had drawn first blood, so 'twas his right to ask the
first question.
"I was surprised de Mortimer would gift me
with three score of his finest warriors. But you. He sent you for
another reason. Certainly not to fill out my ranks. You are here to
spy?"
"Spy? I do not think I would call it
such."
"Nay? When ye lurk outside my bedchamber
door?"
"Lord Symon knows little about you. Still, he
acknowledged you. He would know the man who is his natural
son."
Raik grunted. "That is no reason to tarry
outside my bedchamber on my wedding night."
"If that was a question, I have already
answered one." Sir William grinned and saluted Raik with his
sword.
Raik watched for his next opening, the
questions burning in his mind. He knew the door had opened last
eve, even if it was for a few heartbeats. He saw his opening and
nicked the man's upper arm then stepped back.
"Answer about last eve. Remember, ye swore to
tell the truth."
"Rumors of your dislike for your wife-to-be
were numerous. Stephen wanted assurance that the wedding was
consummated—since there would be no virgin's blood on the
sheets."
"Pfft! Spent seed is proof enough without
virgin's blood."
"Aye. Too, had I known you would both be so,
uh, vocal, there would have been no need to see you coupling."
Raik's growl was warning enough for William
to grab his sword and quickly parry Raik's strike. Raik's anger
made him careless. It was William's turn to ask his first
question.
"You fostered with the Morgan's. 'Tis said
you near killed a young man while there. Why?"
"He called me bastard and claimed my mother a
common slut who followed Laird Douglas' army. I broke his nose and
near choked the life from him."
Sir William's expression hardened. "You
should have broken his arm while you were at it."
As they continued their contest, Raik learned
Symon de Mortimer did not foster his sons with other noblemen, as
was the custom. Sir William had charge of the boys training from
the time they were pages until they were competent squires. They
were now excellent archers, swordsmen and horsemen. Both were good
at wrestling and all fighting skills.
William did not have to tell him all. Symon's
sons lacked but one thing. Love of England. Once grown, they spent
most of their years in Normandy and even found their brides
there.
o0o
Letia and Giles stood atop the corner turret
gazing out over the practice field. Two men battled. The rest of
the warriors formed a ring, calling encouragement from much further
away than was usual. Edulf stood between the outer ring and the
combatants, a small pile of tan and brown clothing at his feet.
"Have they been hacking at each other all
morn?" Letia was truly puzzled.
She had easily picked out Raik as one of the
two fighting warriors, for he wore a colorful flame-red and
sun-yellow plaid wrapped around his waist and held there by a
knotted leather thong. He wore no chain mail, helmet or protection
of any kind.
The second man wore a shirt and breeches, and
though his back was to her, she recognized Sir William by his
dignified bearing even while wielding a sword.
Wet and wild dark brown hair flew about
Raik's face. Sweat glistened on his body and matted the hair on his
chest. Small stripes of red crisscrossed his flesh where his
opponent had drawn blood. From the looks of Sir William's stained
and tattered shirt, Raik had the upper hand.
"Aye, they have, milady." Giles voice bubbled
with excitement. "Look, Lord Raik has again drawn blood."
The minute Raik's sword tip nicked Sir
William's shoulder, he drew back and lowered his weapon. His
opponent bowed and lowered his own blade. Raik appeared to ask him
a question. Sir William hesitated before he responded. Raik
pondered over his answer then nodded. She thought it would be the
end of the match, but the men hefted their swords, saluted each
other then circled and resumed their skillful dance, striking and
parrying.
"Why do they stop and begin again?" Letia
frowned, studying them.
"'Tis the rules the baron imposed when they
first started."
"What rules? Are they not honing their
skills?"
"To be sure." Grinning, Giles nodded. "The
rules are for seeking information from each other."
"Information? Why do they not just ask?"
"I deem they are things neither man wants to
discuss openly. That's why all who watch them are kept far from
earshot."
"Giles, must we also have a match for you to
tell me all?"
"Oh. I thought I had." Giles tilted his head
and frowned. "The rules are that they will fight until blood is
drawn, but the injury must be no more than a nick. They will halt,
and the man who has won the hit asks a question. The other is honor
bound to answer. Then they resume until the next strike."
"Humph! What fools men are to draw blood over
answers they could easily obtain by asking."
Her curiosity settled, Letia went about her
normal routine. Instead of training the young slingers at their
usual spot on the wall walk to the left of the bailey, she led them
to where archery targets dotted the field. She soon became
thoroughly engrossed in training them to perfect their aims with
stones.
o0o
In the practice field, back and forth Raik
and Sir William had gone, both learning more than if they had sat
swilling ale through the night. Satisfied with how his morning had
progressed, Raik retired to the keep to prepare for Ranald's
arrival. He had a hot bath brought to the solar and washed the
blood and grit from the small cuts dotting his flesh. He near had
to stifle a chuckle over Edulf's delight in selecting Raik's bright
clothing.
Ranald would no doubt tease him about his
colorful attire, as he often did, for the squire laid out a
long-sleeved shirt and a sleeveless tunic that fell to near cover
his boots. The tunic was made with four divided sections, using
both heavy gold and wine colored cotton cloth with crosses
embroidered on both the front and back in opposite colors. He
combed his wet hair, gathered and tied it behind his head with a
crimson band.
He had heard Aubrey cry when he first entered
the tub. He talked with Edulf while bathing and the sounds had
faded. But now the squire had gone and the room was quiet. The
child still cried. He sounded frantic. Raik's brows drew together
in a hard scowl. Why had the bairn not been comforted?
He stalked to the bedchamber door and threw
it open. Maud stopped her frantic pacing. Her face worried as she
jiggled Aubrey and patted him on his back, trying to soothe
him.
"Is the child ill?"
"Nay, my lord."
Raik walked over to stare at the wee red
face. Tears ran from Aubrey's blue eyes, and as they stared into
Raik's, they seemed to plead with him. For what, he didn't know.
His heart twisted. He reached out and gently took the bairn from
Maud, though she was reluctant to let him go. At first, he felt
unsure how to hold the small bundle, but remembering seeing Catalin
with her son, he laid Aubrey back on his left arm and cuddled him
close. When he touched the little cheeks, seeking to soothe him,
the babe tried to reach Raik's hand.
He hesitated a moment. Then curious, he
trailed a finger over tiny lips. His eyes flew wide when the bairn
latched on to his little finger and sucked as if his life depended
on it.
"Lucifer's hairy ar..." he spluttered in
anger. "He is near starving! Where is his mother?" He held tight to
the child and jiggled him up and down, all the time letting him
suckle his finger.
"She was to give the children their stone
slinging practice, but Giles did not find her in the usual
places."
"Edulf!" His bellow startled Aubrey, who
started to wail again. "Shh, shh, shh," Raik held the child close
to his heart and gave him his finger again as Edulf ran into the
room.
Raik's face stiffened, his lips thinned and
drew back over his teeth in a snarl.
"Find Lady Letia. If she doesna heed ye, drag
her here by her hair!"
Raik harnessed his anger to keep from
shouting. He forced his breathing to a steady rhythm as he paced
the room, comforting Aubrey. Maud wrung her hands, following behind
him as though fearing he would disappear with the bairn. With each
small hitch in Aubrey's breath, Raik's anger heated until his eyes
felt like they shot hot sparks.
He heard clamoring on the stairway before
Freki burst through the doorway and skidded to a halt. His
unsettling yellow eyes narrowed up at him, watching him as his
angry strides covered the room. The beast must have judged Raik
meant no harm to the baby, for he finally rumbled in his chest,
then stretched out on the floor to continue watching, his head on
his big, outstretched paws.
Even her dog arrived before she did! Raik
kicked a corner post at the foot of the bed. 'Twas no wonder
Letia's face paled when she burst into the room.
He stared in disbelief. She wore much the
same squire's clothing as she had when she'd shown her contempt of
him atop the barbican.
His anger exploded.
"Dinna tell me ye have ignored my orders,
even afore a full day has passed!"
"What orders?"
Raik cast her a baleful look. How could she
not remember his words when he had discovered her in her warrior's
garb yestermorn?