The Protector (8 page)

“We may have trouble,” he said.

“The thieves again?”

His eyes silently communicated that it was much worse than that.

“We will discuss this in my father's solar.” She gestured for Carlos and Josce and led the way to the stairs.

The solar was a large room on the second level with a row of windows overlooking the walled field. Here her father had managed the estate and planned his campaigns. On its bed her brother Drago had breathed his last and she herself had fought the death. Although she slept elsewhere, she used the chamber as a place of consultation and decision.

She sat in the only chair, a richly carved half barrel that could easily fit two. Even her father had barely filled it.

Ascanio and the others entered the room. A fifth man followed: Morvan had decided to insinuate himself into this council. His gaze passed over the large, high bed surrounded by drapes, the table and stools, and the two handsome tapestries. It finally came to rest on her.

She thought that she detected amusement in him at seeing her sitting in the lord's chair. She straightened, preparing to put him in his place by asking him to leave.

Ascanio saw it coming. He caught her eye and shook his head. “We may need him,” he muttered.

Her attention snapped back to the matter at hand. “What is it?”

Ascanio turned to the guard. “Tell her.”

The guard was younger than she, not much more than a boy. She recognized him as Louis, one of the farmers' sons whom Ascanio had recruited and she herself had trained in archery.

“Well, my lady, you know that my family lives close to
the manor's north end. I went to visit them, because I got word that my father was ill. While I was there, a man passing through their village said that he had seen a small army moving in our direction. So I rode out and looked for myself.”

“It sounds like another free company,” Carlos said.

That was indeed bad news. Such companies, made up of knights and soldiers under no lord's command, had been plaguing Brittany with their brigandage for years.

“If so, it was a big one. There were over a hundred men, well provisioned.”

“They may not be coming here,” Josce said. “They may only be aiming for the coastal road, to go south.”

“If so, they will still pass through these lands, even if you are not their goal,” Morvan said. “Did you see any colors, boy? Any banners?”

Anna's annoyance with Morvan spiked again. He demanded answers as if he had the right to do so.

“Aye. Red and black, quartered, with castle and dragon.”

The words penetrated her head like darts. All thoughts of Morvan's presumptions disappeared in an onslaught of shock.

“You are sure?” She did not hear her own question, and wondered if she had even uttered it.

“I watched from a hill as they passed. They are moving slowly, because they have the wagons and foot soldiers, but—”

“How far away?” Morvan again. At least she thought so. The chamber had become distant and dreamlike, as if the pulse pounding in her head left it no room to absorb forms and sounds completely.

“With the wagons, six days, more if it rains.”

A visceral chill clutched her chest with hundreds of
icy fingers. She could not conquer the horrible sensation of having the breath squeezed out of her.

Fear. This was what fear felt like.

Someone else spoke. The men moved. A hand touched her shoulder, and she jolted alert. She looked up into Ascanio's concerned face, then glanced around. Louis, Carlos, and Josce had left, but Morvan remained, and his dark eyes studied her.

Ascanio squeezed her shoulder in reassurance. “There may be no real danger here. There is no indication they will even cross your lands. Still, we should take precautions.”

Morvan moved closer. He took her chin in his hand and raised her head so he could look into her eyes.

“This army is indeed coming here, isn't it? You know it is.”

“Aye.” She brushed his hand away. “We have lived through hell these last months, but I never expected the devil to arrive at the gate.”

“Then you had better explain who the devil is, lady, so we know what we face.”

“She will do so when she has calmed herself,” Ascanio said sharply. “This has unsettled her badly.”

“I know that, priest, as well as you—”

“His name is Gurwant de Beaumanoir,” she interrupted. “It is his banner that Louis described.”

“I know the Beaumanoir family,” Morvan said. “They are among Brittany's leading allies of the French king, are they not? The Franco-Breton lords' taking of a strong coastal fortress would have important strategic implications. Still, trying to conquer an estate so far from their holdings is overbold.”

“Gurwant could have once had a claim on this estate. That is why he journeys so far, and dares to be so bold.”

“What claim?”

“The claim was through me. We were once betrothed. It was annulled.”

Both men reacted with surprise. Ascanio in particular appeared astonished. He was her closest friend, but there were some things she had never shared with him.

The fear tried to spread again. She managed to force clarity on her thoughts. Later she would contemplate what she really faced, but right now there were more immediate concerns.

“Ascanio, we will double the guard. And we do not ride out over petty thefts. It will draw off what few men we have and leave even this castle vulnerable. Tell Josce to personally oversee the gate tower. No one is to enter who is not known to us. I will send messengers at once to my father's closest vassals, summoning them to our aid. They should arrive before Gurwant.”

She dismissed them, strode from the solar, and went to her bedchamber, where she fetched up her bow.

“What are you doing?”

She pivoted in surprise. Morvan stood at the threshold. His sharp gaze took in the weapon that she held.

“I am going back to the horse farm, to warn the men there.” She was not going just for that. She practiced with her arms at the farm, and had been lax these last weeks.

“Carlos can warn them. You must stay in the keep now.”

It sounded a lot like a command. She inspected the string on her bow. “They are still days away.”

“An advance guard could have been sent ahead, to assess your strength and the terrain. The thieves who have been harassing you might not be mere brigands. You must stay here.”

“I will be careful.” She slung the bow over her shoulder
and grabbed up her sword and quiver, then walked quickly to the doorway.

He did not move. Which blocked her way out.

She glared at him impatiently. He returned a severe gaze.

“Since you will not see to your own safety, Anna, have a groom prepare my horse.”

Another command. A stupid one. “You are too ill to ride yet, and I do not need your escort.”

“My strength returns with every hour, and it is not for your escort. I will go and meet this Beaumanoir, and deal with him knight to knight.”

“He has an army behind him, and that he comes at all speaks of his lack of honor. He will have them cut you to pieces if it suits him. Now, stand aside. I have things to do.”

He didn't budge. That infuriated her enough that she almost gave him a good shove.

He moved closer until she had to look up to see his face. A handsome man, she found herself thinking despite her vexation, handsome even when stern like now.

“While I recovered I swore an oath to protect you,” he said.

An oath to protect her.
Saints.
Small wonder he was being so overbearing.

“You are released from this oath.”

“It is not for you to release me.”

“I am its object. I can and do release you. You were ill when you made it. You cannot be held—”

“It is not a matter of your choice. It is done.”

An assault of rage hit her.
It is done
. That was a phrase her father had used to end discussion. The lord's will is done. How often she had heard that imperious statement. And now, from this man, a stranger almost …

“Sir Morvan, your oaths are between you and God. But know this. Do not expect me to conform to your ideas about protection. I discovered long ago that the price of a man's protection is too high and its value very dubious.” She turned away from his burning eyes.

He did not leave. He just stood behind her, filling the room with that damned male presence of his, glaring at her no doubt. But she refused to look and see.

Finally, she heard him walk toward the door.

“Morvan, know something else. Within these walls, no man commands me, no matter what his oaths. Not even Ascanio, and certainly not you.”

A
NNA SPENT THE AFTERNOON
at the horse farm, training the stallions and using her bow. Carlos arrived near evening, and she used the last hours of light to practice her sword with him. Ascanio was the better teacher, but with Gurwant on the way he could not spare the time for this.

The activity kept the fear at bay, but the icy fingers again wrapped her heart once she was alone in her chamber that night. She hated the way it made her feel.

The confining walls seemed to make it worse, so she slipped from her chamber, took a torch from its ring, and mounted the winding stairway up to the roof of the keep. A wind blew off the sea, raising her hair around her head.

She climbed up to the battlements and positioned herself to look out over the sea. It was a dark night, but
the clear sky shimmered with starlight that etched silvery highlights on the incoming waves. Setting the torch in an iron ring, she huddled in her cloak.

This was where her brother had found her that morning, all those years ago. She had hidden here to avoid the silence in the hall. Even her father had acted cold to her. She realized later that no one had known what to do about what had happened, and so, by silent agreement, they had decided to do nothing. But at the time she saw the reaction as blame aimed at her.

Only Drago had understood. When he had found her here, still in shock from the night's events, he had taken her in his arms and soothed her. He was only three years older than she, but she had let herself be a child with him.

He had held her and promised to speak with their father, and swore always to protect her. Then his voice had become hard and old. “Next time, Anna, if you have to stop a man, go for his neck.”

She shook off the memory, for it threatened to drown her in that childhood terror. Her mind surged up out of it like a body gasping for air.

If Gurwant was coming here, there would be no negotiation. Nor would they be able to repel his army forever. He was counting on that, on the plague and the absence of a lord finally making the impregnable fortress of La Roche de Roald vulnerable.

A sound pulled her out of her reverie. She turned and saw a shadow emerge from the stair opening in the roof. Tall and erect, the form paused there in the darkness.

She knew who it was. She sensed the confidence and strength that he exuded even in the dark. This afternoon she had found that dominating aura infuriating, but she
did not feel strong right now and her spirit lifted with something like relief.

She said his name.

“My lady.”

“Join me. The sea is beautiful tonight.”

He climbed to the battlements and circled toward her. A body's breadth away he stopped and turned to the sea, raising his gaze to the sparkling sky.

“Do you believe that one can read the future in the stars?” she asked.

“I had a tutor who did, and he taught me some of it, but the stars always neglected to warn me of the important things, so I lost interest in such matters.”

“I wish you had been a better student. It would be nice to know what the future holds.”

“Would you be less fearful then? You are still badly troubled. You hide it well, but all who know you closely can tell.”

“What woman wouldn't be troubled to learn that an army marches on her home?”

The torch gave enough light for her to see the planes of his handsome face above the red cloak. She stayed silently by his side, relishing a soothing sense of sanctuary.

“Anna, there is more to this than you revealed, I think. Tell me the rest.”

She realized that she was going to obey. Even Ascanio had been spared this story. She didn't doubt Ascanio's love and friendship. When the time came he would fight to save her and die by her side. But this other knight had a power about him that suggested that no one who stood by his shoulder needed to die at all.

“My mother passed away when I was ten. A year later,
my father decided to marry me off. Gurwant's father approached him. It was a profitable match for both families. Gurwant's branch of the family is rich in nobility but poor in property. My father would forge an important alliance, and Gurwant would receive some lands we own inland near Rennes.”

She collected her scattered memories. “I was twelve when they came for the betrothal. Gurwant was sixteen. I was to return with them to their home to be educated by his mother. We would marry in three years.”

“Gurwant was not pleased when he met me.” She smiled thinly at the memory of his astonishment. “I was as homely then as now, and already unnaturally tall. I had learned nothing of grace and charm. At the betrothal it humiliated him to have to stretch up to kiss me.”