The Thunder Lord: The de Shera Brotherhood Book One (Lords of Thunder: The de Shera Brotherhood 1) (9 page)

“Gal,” she said, “please remain with Lady Jeniver while I send Max to seek permission for her to sit by her father’s side. Ty will accompany me to my chamber because I find I am not feeling entirely well. I must lie down.”

Mention of Honey’s health always jolted the men into immediate and utter obedience, in any case. Maximus went to his mother without delay, practically pushing Jeniver out of the way in his haste to reach her side.

“What is it?” he asked, concerned. “Do you feel terribly ill? Should we send for the physic?”

Jeniver found herself moving out of Maximus’ way lest the man bowl her over in his attempt to get to his mother. She ended up standing next to Gallus, watching as Maximus and Tiberius went to Honey’s aid.

“She had a fainting spell in my chamber a few minutes ago,” Jeniver said helpfully. “Mayhap you should ask the surgeon who is tending my father to also see to your mother’s health.”

All three men looked at Honey in various states of fear and concern. “Did you faint?” Gallus wanted to know. “Did you fall and hurt yourself?”

Honey shook her head as Maximus took one arm and Tiberius took the other. “I did not fall,” she said, wishing Jeniver had not made mention of the spell because it only served to frighten the men. “I felt weak for a moment and nothing more, but I would like to rest.”

Maximus and Tiberius began to lead her gently towards her chamber door, a room next to Violet and Lily’s chamber. “Come along,” Maximus said in his deep and rumbling voice. “Ty will sit with you for a while, but you must rest.”

Honey looked up at Maximus. “And you will speak to the surgeon on Lady Jeniver’s behalf?”

Maximus nodded patiently. “I will, I swear it.”

Honey didn’t press further. She let her boys lead her carefully down the hall but before they took her into her chamber, she looked back over her shoulder at Gallus and Jeniver.

“Make sure the lady is well taken care of, Gal,” she said. “We will feast tonight and other things.”

Gallus’ brow furrowed slightly. “What other things?”

Honey wasn’t going to tell them of what lay in store for them. The priest from Coventry was her secret alone. It was her control over the situation and over her son, the lonely widower. She knew she wasn’t long for this world and she did not want him to be without a woman influence in his life. The fact that Jeniver had arrived when she had was, to Honey, something of divine intervention. Perhaps the woman had come here for a reason. In any case, Honey intended to make sure Jeniver never left.

“We will celebrate life,” she said vaguely, turning around as Maximus and Tiberius led her through her chamber door. “Life is precious, is it not? It must be celebrated and not wasted. It is a gift to share.”

With that, she was in her chamber and had disappeared from view. Gallus stood there, her words echoing in his mind. Honey never rambled and she never said anything that didn’t have a distinct purpose, which put him on his guard somewhat.
Life is a gift to share
. He looked at Jeniver and wondered if Honey was referring to the Welshwoman.

Gallus hadn’t forgotten about the deathbed betrothal. In fact, he’d been torn between dreading it and being reluctantly interested in it. But he knew his mother hadn’t forgotten about it because the woman had a mind like a vise – nothing escaped it. Nay, she hadn’t forgotten at all. Gazing down at Jeniver, he was very suspicious as to what Honey meant.

He would find out soon enough.

It was a cake made from precious white flour, butter, ground almonds, cinnamon, quince, and honey. It was the pinnacle of all culinary achievements in the mortal world. God wept, as he could not taste such an earthly treasure.

At least, that’s what Jeniver thought as she eyed the masterpiece of cooking on the table a few feet away. She’d already had two pieces of it and was contemplating a third. Seated to her right, Violet and Lily were plowing into the cake and it was all over their faces and fingers as they shoved it into their mouths, licking their hands of the glorious feast. They had been less enthusiastic about the beef and beans Honey had insisted they eat prior to devouring the cake, but they managed to choke down most of their dinner and the cake was their reward. It was a gleeful surrender to all things sweet and tasty.

Fortunately, Jeniver hadn’t been forced to eat her dinner before delving into the delicious cake. In fact, she’d had little appetite until the treat was produced and, being somewhat partial to sweets, she had indulged.

Across the table from her in Isenhall’s massive feasting hall, Gallus, Maximus, and Tiberius had eaten enough meat and bread to supply a small army. Jeniver had spent a good deal of time watching them eat, the three brothers and their ravenous appetites. Coming from a household with mostly women and older men, no powerful knights to speak of, the heathy hunger of the three English knights had been a sight to see. Gallus’ four subordinate knights sat at another table next to theirs along with several senior officers and she didn’t have the opportunity to see how much those men ate. She could only imagine their appetites were much the same as the de Shera brothers.

The feasting hall itself was a sight to behold, something much larger than she had seen before. Her own home, Rhydilian Castle, was a large place with a large hall relatively speaking, but Isenhall had a great hall that took up most of the northern part of the circular castle. It was tall, too, with a minstrel gallery above where she could see servants moving about, but no minstrels this night. Instead of a hearth, there was a wide open pit in the center of the hall that blazed hotly, sending smoke up to the pitched roof where it escaped through holes in the roofline.

Since Lady Honey didn’t particularly care for big dogs, there weren’t many in the hall but there were several smaller dogs, dogs that stayed well away from the family’s table but congregated instead around the three enormous guest tables that only held soldiers and officers on this night. Jeniver was glad she had left the puppy safely shut up in her room because she had seen more than one dog scuffle and she was very happy to keep her dog far away from the rabble. Moreover, she doubted she could have eaten anything with the dog in one arm and she was more than positive that Violet and Lily would not have eaten a bite with the puppy as a distraction.

Therefore, amidst the smoke from the fire pit mingling with the smell of fresh bread and dogs, Jeniver sat silently and ate her third piece of cake. Having never been inside of an English hall or an English feast, there was much to observe, much she was sure her father would have found fascinating. He loved to watch people and speculate on their lives. It was a hobby of his. He would often see an innocent couple and muse on their terrible marriage or their twenty incorrigible children, much to the amusement of his daughter. As she watched the English eat and drink this night, thoughts of her father were closer than ever.

Gallus had taken her to the small chamber where her father lay after Honey had gone to rest, and he’d said no more than a few words to her before taking position at the back of the chamber while she sat at her father’s bedside and prayed. Not only had she been driven to tears by the sight of the man’s pale, death-like countenance, but he had been stripped of his bloody clothing and dressed in a fine robe as befitting a hereditary king. As Gaerwen lingered in the unconscious state between life and death, he was well-tended and respected. Jeniver was very grateful to her hosts for their gesture of esteem.

She had remained praying at Gaerwen’s bedside for at least a couple of hours, begging God to heal her father, while Gallus had remained at the door, a big and silent sentinel, remaining respectful as Jeniver had wept quietly. While she knew the man was there, she had no idea what he was feeling or thinking as he watched her. She could have never imagined that the grief from his wife’s passing has been fighting to make an unwelcome return. As Jeniver waged war with her grief over her father’s state, Gallus had been fighting a losing battle of his own.

Even now, as Gallus sat across the table from Jeniver, it was an effort not to look at the woman. He’s spent the past three hours looking at her shapely backside and hating the fact that he was actually interested in her. He tried to block out thoughts of the exquisite raven-haired beauty with thoughts of Catheryn, a fair-haired woman with big, blue eyes and a bright smile.

Whereas Catheryn had been rather tall for a woman and slender of build, Jeniver was petite and lush. True, she has a wisdom and maturity beyond her years, but her stature was rather short which somehow made her seem more vulnerable and more feminine. Worse yet, when she had removed the cloaks and coats she had worn, she had revealed a lusciously curvy figure straining against her gown. She was a stunningly alluring creature, which only fed his guilt. He couldn’t help but imagine taking her to his bed, wondering how her young and tender flesh would taste against his tongue.

Even now, she was wearing a relatively modest garment of orange wool, a color that was striking against her dark hair and pale skin. It was a loosely fitting dress, tied in the middle with a beaded sash, but her slender waist and full breasts were quite evident beneath it. Her long hair was braided, elegantly draped over one shoulder, and she kept her head down, picking at the cake in front of her. Her mood was morose and he didn’t blame her. As he sat there, wondering if he should say something to her, Violet took the lead.

“Lady?” she said, cake in her right hand. “Why did you not bring the puppy? He must eat, too.”

Startled that she was being addressed when the majority of the meal had been quite silent, Jeniver forced a smile at the child. “He has already eaten his supper and has gone to sleep,” she replied. “You may see him in the morning.”

Violet wasn’t pleased with that answer. She turned to her father across the table. “Papa?” she said. “Can I have a puppy, too? I will love him very much.”

Gallus focused on his eldest child, a knowing smile on his lips. “There are several puppies running around in this hall,” he pointed out. “Why do you need one specific puppy? Why not play with them all?”

Violet frowned as Lily, yawning, finished with her cake and climbed off her seat. As she crawled under the table, heading for her father, Violet spoke.

“I want a black puppy, Papa,” she insisted. “I want a puppy like Taranis.”

“Taranis?”

Violet nodded firmly. “We named the puppy Taranis,” she insisted. “I love him so very much. Why can’t I have a puppy like him?”

Gallus glanced at Jeniver, feeling a jolt when their eyes met. There was something quite gripping about the woman’s gaze, a silent rope to reach out and snare him. The more he didn’t want to find interest in her, the more he was. He simply couldn’t stop himself.

“What did I tell you?” he said to her. “I see a trip to Paris in my future to collect a dog.”

Jeniver grinned. “You may not have a choice.”

He smiled because she did. Something about her made him want to smile in spite of his guilt and grief. But his attention was diverted as Lily, from beneath the table, tried to crawl onto his lap. Gallus lifted the child into his arms before returning his focus to Jeniver.

“Any chance I can purchase the puppy from you?” he asked her.

Jeniver shook her head firmly. “As much as I would like to help, I will not sell you my dog,” she said. “But I will tell you who I bought him from.”

Gallus pursed his lips in mock irritation as Maximus, sitting next to him, leaned in his direction. “All you need do is pick any one of these puppies that roam the hall and rub it with black ash from the fire. She will not know the difference.”

Violet heard him. “I will, too!” she said, standing up on her seat. “He needs to be big and… and have big ears and… and he needs to be
black
!”

Maximus held up a soothing hand. “Very well, Vi,” he said. “You shall have your black puppy but we will have to go far away to get him. He may be grown up by the time we return, depending on how long we stay in Paris. There are lots of things to see there. Lots of women to… that is, lots of people to see.”

Violet cocked her head thoughtfully, completely oblivious to his reference to female companionship. “Can I go?” she wanted to know.

Maximus shook his head. “It is too long and dangerous a journey to take you.”

Violet didn’t like that answer. “But I want to go!”

Maximus wasn’t particularly good when dealing with small children, as he didn’t have the patience such a thing required. As he tried to figure out how to explain to Violet why she could not accompany them on such a long journey in terms she would comprehend, Lily, seated next to him on her father’s lap, put her finger up her nose and drew forth a wad of mucus. She then proceeded to wipe it on Maximus’s arm. The man groaned in disgust, grasping for any scrap of linen or even bread to wipe it off with, as Tiberius, on the other side of Maximus, laughed uproariously.

“Lily, what a good girl you are,” Tiberius crowed. “Will you do that again?”

Maximus pushed himself away from the table and away from Lily’s nasty nose as everyone laughed at him. He ended up on the other side of the table, sitting in Lily’s vacated seat between Violet and Honey. As Maximus made a menacing face at Lily, Honey spoke.

“Lily,” she scolded. “How very rude. That is not something young ladies do. You will not do that again.”

Tiberius tried very hard to suppress his smile, putting himself in the line of fire for a motherly scolding. “All apologies, Honey,” he assured his mother. “She will not do it again.”

Maximus grunted, unhappy with his niece and with his younger brother. “When I have children, they will all be male,” he said, pointing a finger at Lily, who was still giggling. “They would not do such a dastardly thing as that.”

“Why not?” Jeniver asked from the other side of Violet. “I have seen young boys do much worse.”

Tiberius was back to snickering, now joined by Gallus. “Indeed they do,” Gallus said to Maximus. “Remember what we used to do as children? Remember how Uncle Quintus used to fall asleep in front of the hearth and fart uncontrollably? Remember how we would try to light his farts on fire?”

They spoke fondly of their father’s younger brother, a man who had died many years ago. Still, the memories were quite warm and Tiberius started laughing.

“Remember when we lit his breeches on fire doing it?” he said. “We burned a big hole in the seat of his pants and singed off all of the hair on his arse. He was so incensed that he refused to change his breeches and walked around for the rest of the day so everyone could see how naughty we had been. And do you recall that he….?”

He stopped, suddenly looking at Jeniver and realizing he was speaking of a man’s naked arse in her presence. But the moment he stopped, horrified, Jeniver read the expression on his face and burst into giggles.

“Go on, Sir Tiberius,” she encouraged. “Please tell me more of this uncle who walked around with his singed buttocks revealed to the world.”

“
Nay,
” Honey said, quite firmly. “Not another word from your mouth, Ty, or you shall feel my wrath. How dare you speak of such things in the presence of a lady. She will think us horrid, uncivilized creatures.”

Jeniver was fighting off a smile. “Truly, my lady, I am not offended,” she said. “In fact, this is more fun than I have had in quite some time. Do not be angry for it.”

Honey eyed Jeniver, seeing that the woman was smiling for the first time since she had known her. It was difficult to deny her a bit of humor in an otherwise dreadful day, but she couldn’t, in good conscience and in good taste, let this line of conversation continue.

“I am not angry,” she assured her. “But this subject is most distasteful. Surely there are other subjects to speak of than a man’s burnt arse.”

Jeniver, Gallus, Maximus, and Tiberius broke into soft laughter. It was a humorous moment in a day that had known only sorrow. Jeniver was actually feeling better than she had all day and she reached for some of the cooling beef that was still on the table, tucking a moist piece into her mouth. There was still humor left in the world and, in spite of her terrible day, she would feel laughter again. There was hope that the dark days would pass. As Maximus began to tell another story about Uncle Quintus, who was evidently a character of a man, a man dressed for travel entered the hall.

Honey, who was in the process of cleaning off Violet’s sticky fingers, happened to catch sight of him near the entry to the hall, which was a glorious example of a herringbone Norman arch. Recognizing the servant she had sent to Coventry, Honey glanced at her sons, and at Jeniver, who seemed to not have noticed the servant near the door. Her sons were telling stories and Jeniver was listening intently.

Casually, Honey stood up, ushering Violet away from the table because the little girl wanted to run to a pack of puppies over near the smoldering fire pit. Admonishing Violet to stay away from the fire, Honey made her way through the hall, quite nonchalantly, as she headed to the servant lingering near the door. The hall was rather crowded and there were people between them, but as she drew near, the man noticed her and shuffled in her direction.