THE WARLORD (17 page)

"What are you thinking?"

Tess was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't hear Kenric's return. His quiet words startled her.

"That you should not creep up on people," she chastised, smiling to soften the admonishment. Kenric shrugged and turned his attention to the view beyond the walls. Though he didn't move, Tess felt as if he'd suddenly stepped away from her, placed a wall between them as solid as the one she leaned against. "You finished your business with Fitz Alan?"

"A minor matter.
You still haven't answered my question.
Why the serious expression on such a fine day?"

Tess thought about lying for a moment then decided the truth could do no harm.

"Less than two fortnights have passed since I believed myself destined to be Gordon MacLeith's bride. I was thinking how different my life would have been with Gordon." She tilted her head back, her gaze uncertain as she looked into his eyes. "I would tell you the reason he last beat me."

"I know already." Kenric gave her a roguish smile. "You told me when you were fevered."

"What did I tell
you.?
" Tess asked in a worried tone.

"That you called Gordon a catamite."

" 'Tis
true," Tess whispered. "He came to my chamber after he beat me and sent everyone from the room. I thought he meant to murder me, but he was there only to revile me with threats. He said I disgusted him and promised to give me to his men once we were married. They were all MacLeiths, he said, so it wouldn't matter where my bairn came from as long as I produced a child. He made other promises, but they are… they are obscene, vile beyond repeating."

Kenric moved closer and cupped her face between his hands. "I cannot take away the pain of your past, but I can guarantee that you will never have to fear Gordon or his father, ever again. You are mine now, Tess, and I protect what is mine."

A wave of tenderness swept over her, so sweet and fierce that it finally succeeded in bringing the hidden tears to her eyes. She moved into his arms and laid her cheek against his soft fur cloak. He was telling her the truth. In her heart, Tess knew he would protect her with his life. And she intended to repay him by running away. Guilt, Tess decided, was the most unpleasant of emotions. Her decision would be so much easier to live with if only Kenric were cruel, a man no better than the MacLeiths. He deserved more than a bride who would pretend to be his wife,
then
leave him at the first opportunity.

"The MacLeiths are jackals, not to be trusted," she said hesitantly, deciding he should be warned in case he ever did face her stepfather. "Do not expect a fair fight if you face those traitors."

"You, ah, told me that as well when you were ill."

"It seems I was very talkative," Tess said guardedly. "What else did I tell you?"

"What else?" he repeated, reaching over her head to scratch his chin. "Well, let me see. There is probably very little you did not tell me.
At least, very little of importance.
You do tend to babble, wife."

She frowned at his wolfish grin.
" 'Twas
rude of you to listen to such ravings."

"You like my eyes."

"I talked about you?" Tess was horrified by the thought. Almost anything she said about Kenric would be humiliating. His next words proved that thought correct.

"I remind you of a knight you dreamed of the sennight before we wed."

"Oh, God," Tess groaned. She recovered quickly and tried to school her features into an expression of disbelief. "You see? I was obviously talking nonsense. You must put little stock in the truth of anything I said while I was ill."

Kenric nodded, but his expression said he didn't believe a word of that. Thankfully, he changed the subject.
" 'Tis
near time for dinner. Would you like to continue this discussion in our chamber? We can take our meal there."

Much to Tess's dismay, Kenric was as good as his word. He told her the events of her illness in great detail. Tess denied everything, scowling when Kenric laughed aloud at her ridiculous objections. But his laughter disappeared when Tess asked about
his
life before they met. He claimed there was little to tell. Tess took her turn laughing at that bold lie. She kept after him until he finally relented, telling her fascinating tales about the lands of the Crusades.

Tess didn't remember falling asleep in her chair, or being carried to the bed a short time later. When she woke up during the night, Kenric was lying next to her, his head propped up on one elbow. The glowing embers shadowed his expression, but she was sure he was watching her as he rubbed her arm in a soothing motion. She couldn't quite recall his reply when she sleepily asked if anything was wrong. She thought she heard him say he wasn't sure. That answer was odd enough to convince her that she'd dreamed the whole thing.

The days that followed fell into a comfortable routine. Kenric rose early to train with his men or to ride out on patrol. Tess kept busy exploring the castle. He joined her occasionally in the hall for the midday meal, but often as not, his time there was spent with the bailiff or steward, or any number of his men with problems to be solved. Evening meals went much the same, though Kenric never tarried afterward and neither Kenric nor Tess actually ate in the great hall. Each waited until they reached their chamber to share a meal and conversation.

" 'Tis
no wonder you've managed to lure me here for meals," Kenric remarked one night, eyeing a spoonful of thick stew. Though their meal was simple, it was considerably better fare than that served in the great hall. "How do you manage to find such good food in this place?"

"I am tempted to take the credit," Tess replied with a smile, pleased that her plan to appear the perfect wife was progressing so nicely.
"But 'tis Miriam who arranges our meals each evening."

"You will thank her for me." He took a bite of the stew, then washed it down with a gulp of cider and reached for a loaf of fresh bread.

"I have thanked her often, but she acts nervous and brushes the compliments aside. If I didn't know better, I would say she is afraid someone will find out what she is doing."

Helen was
the someone
Miriam feared. The servant had as much as told Tess that Helen would see an end to their fine fare if she found out that Miriam was being so accommodating. She'd wanted to ask Kenric about Helen's obvious hatred ever since they arrived at Montague.

"I saw your sister in the solar today," she began. "Is it your mother or your father that you both resemble so closely?"

Kenric looked up slowly from his trencher and the cold blast of his gaze made Tess swallow nervously. What on earth had she said to stir up that much anger?

"My family is none of your concern."

"Why not?" she asked defiantly.
"Whenever I ask Helen about your family, she says I must ask you. Whenever I ask you, the subject is conveniently changed or I am told it is none of my concern. Am I so unworthy of the Montague name that I am to be told nothing to help me find my place within it?"

The anger faded from Kenric's eyes until he looked little more than annoyed. The soft tone of his voice was surprising.
" 'Tis
the Montague name that is unworthy of you, Tess. You are curious and that is natural, but I do not discuss my family with anyone. Perhaps I will tell you more after I take Remmington, but that will not happen anytime soon unless you can tell me what you know of her defenses. 'Tis said Remmington is impregnable, which means a lengthy siege is likely in order. Are there any boltholes under the walls?"

"None that I know of," Tess answered, still shocked by the revelation that he thought his name unworthy of her.
Amazing.
He'd certainly fooled her into thinking just the opposite. "My father wouldn't allow any escape tunnels to be built. He was very proud of the fact that Remmington could withstand any army and said there was no need."

"Yet Remmington fell to MacLeith," Kenric said softly.

"My father was lured outside the walls by trickery on the grandest scale," Tess said tersely. Her grip on a goblet of wine tightened until her knuckles were white. "Dunmore MacLeith will doubtless stay safe and snug behind Remmington's walls unless he gets me back."

Kenric pushed away from the table then strode over to her chair, startling Tess when he pulled her up against his chest.

"You're mine," he reminded her. "I will deal with your stepfather."

Tess wanted to tell him that he was wrong, that she didn't want him to deal with MacLeith, knowing Kenric's methods would destroy everything her family had built, everything it represented. She wanted to weep for the unfairness of it all, because his words tempted her beyond reason, stirred a sadness so great it hurt. She could do neither, for his mouth captured hers for a kiss that was all fierce possessiveness. Tess kissed him back just as hungrily, desperate for his possession, knowing he would make her forget for a while that she belonged anywhere else but here.

A visitor arrived at the beginning of the next week and the news he carried brought the couple's tranquil interlude to an end. One of Kenric's vassals had died at Penhaligon Keep and the knight's bastard son immediately took control, denying the rightful heir. Everyone was gathered for the evening meal when the news arrived and Tess couldn't help but wonder at the strange silence this announcement caused. Was Penhaligon's bastard such a dangerous man, then? She looked to Kenric and her fears were calmed by his expression. He wasn't worried.

Nearly an hour later, one hundred of Kenric's soldiers were mounted and ready to leave the fortress. Tess knew it was Kenric's responsibility to ride with his men. Aye, she understood and agreed with his decision to see to this matter personally. But she didn't understand her strange reluctance to see him leave.

" 'Tis
a long ride to Penhaligon," Kenric told her. They were standing in the main courtyard, the reins of Kenric's warhorse looped over his arm as he bid his wife farewell. "I might be gone a month or more, but Simon and Evard will remain behind to look after you."

"I shall be fine, milord." Tess gave him an encouraging smile, pleased that she wasn't crying. Why she felt like crying was a mystery. She should be delighted that he was leaving, giving her the perfect opportunity to begin setting her plans into motion. "I do worry that this might be a trick to get you out of the fortress."

Where on earth did that come from? Tess frowned. It was a nice touch, though. She'd been acting the perfect wife for so long that it was becoming second nature.

"Darvell has caused trouble before,
",
he said reassuringly. "Most of my men will remain at Montague, as well as the regular castle guards. This is nothing more than it
seems,
wife." He reached out to gently stroke her cheek. "Do you need for anything, just ask Simon."

"If you have no objection, I would like to assume my place as mistress while you are away," she said quickly. Kenric looked puzzled and she hurried to explain. "There are some changes I would like to make, mostly in the kitchens and great hall. Surely you have noticed the food could be better."

"Aye."
He chuckled. "The meals would be considerably better could any of my men digest them. I will speak to Simon before I leave. He will make sure you get any help you need."

His expression turned serious. "Come give me a kiss, wife
. '
Tis time to send me on my way."

The kiss was sweet yet brief, both aware of their audience. He turned away first, calling Simon over to walk with him.

"My lady wishes to make some changes as Montague's new mistress. You will see that she encounters no difficulties," Kenric informed his man. He waited until they were beyond Tess's hearing before giving the seasoned knight the rest of his instructions. "Do not let her from your sight unless she is in our chamber. She goes nowhere without you. I am counting on you to see to her safety, Simon." "Aye, milord," Simon replied. "I will keep her safe for you. No harm shall befall the baroness while she is under my care."

It took just three days for Simon to know that he'd lied to his overlord. Given the chance, almost anyone within Montague's walls would gladly murder their new baroness. Aye, there wasn't a doubt remaining in Simon's mind that the Butcher of Wales had married a female intent on overshadowing her husband's reputation. At the close of the second week he admitted defeat as Tess's keeper and sent word to Baron Montague. The baron's anger at being summoned home to tend his wayward wife would surely be less than being summoned home to attend her funeral. Several days later at Penhaligon Keep, the messenger wasn't as sure of Simon's opinion when he gave his report to Baron Montague.

"She what?"

"Aye, milord," the messenger said, taking several steps back. She threatened to hobble Cook by cutting off his toes.
Actually, Lady.
Tess threatened Cook's entire staff with that punishment, should they displease her."

Kenric clasped his hands behind his back and gazed over the battlement walls, hoping the peaceful view of the surrounding forest would lighten his mood. It didn't work. His voice was edged with anger when he ordered the soldier to continue with Simon's message.

"On the very day you left, a patrol was dispatched to each of your holdings at Lady Montague's order. She sent word that each holding was to provide one-tenth of their stores to
Montague
Castle
at certain intervals. When
Derry
Town
refused, she ordered their tithing barn torched. The mayor changed his mind before your wife condemned their alehouse to the same fate. Sir Simon bids you know that Lady Montague had your hounds impounded and she expects you to pay the pinder his due to release them. Lady Montague has also set a large number of soldiers to weaving reeds for the great hall's floor." The messenger's tone clearly indicated his disgust with that insulting punishment. "And Sir Simon is most concerned about your lady's decision to accompany the village healing woman into the woods to gather cures. Sir Simon tried to discourage her from this idea, but the baroness was most determined, claiming you gave her permission to name the old woman an assistant and that she is the most qualified. Though Sir Simon and a score of men accompanied the baroness, he worries for her safety because she intends to help the old woman each week."

Kenric unclenched his fists and leaned over the battlement walls. Retaking the keep from Darvell had been an easy task, yet in that time Tess had created an even greater challenge. Aye, this was the trouble that came with being too fond of a wife. Women grew bold when they thought themselves above punishment. "Is that all?"

"Nay, milord," the messenger reported. "There have been many other incidents, mostly with the craftsmen and villagers, but Sir Simon wishes to speak with you personally concerning those matters and would have you know he believes them less serious in nature. He also sends his apologies for troubling you with these problems but feels his powers to control the situation are limited. Lady Tess claims to have your permission to act as mistress of
Montague,
therefore Sir Simon is bound to honor her wishes even when he feels you would object. Sir Simon says he would be most grateful did you set matters aright before a tragedy befalls your lady."

Kenric would have laughed at Simon's dilemma if not for his anger over Tess's acts. He shook his head in disbelief, wondering if Tess had a wish to die, or if she was too simpleminded to realize how she placed herself in jeopardy.

"Find Roger Fitz Alan," he ordered the messenger. "Tell him we ride for Montague within the hour."

"Skill with a needle is gained through practice and patience," Helen advised, watching Tess begin the hated task of undoing several rows of new stitches to correct her error. She had to admire Tess's determination to create such a complex pattern of Montague's standard with so little experience to ease the task.

"This project may yet prove too ambitious for my talents," Tess admitted.

The two women were seated in chairs that flanked the fireplace in Helen's room and she leaned forward to inspect Tess's tapestry. "You are doing well enough for someone who hasn't stitched in five years. For a novice, your work is very good."

Tess nodded to acknowledge the compliment. Helen leaned back to observe the progress of her sister-in-law's handiwork, wondering at her reluctance to dampen Tess's spirits. She should hate her brother's wife. In fact, she'd been most determined about the matter. But Tess had come into Helen's room a few days after Kenric's departure and announced that she wasn't moving from the spot until seat cushions were started for the great hall. Almost an entire bolt of fabric lay in ruins when Helen discovered she would dine on bread and water until the task was performed correctly. Two more days dragged by while Helen stabbed her needle into cushion fabric and silently gloated over her sister-in-law's lack of sewing talent. Tess chattered on endlessly, telling stories as if Helen were truly interested in what she had to say. Watching Tess yank out the same stitches over and over finally proved too much for Helen. On the third day, Helen grudgingly demonstrated the correct stitch and the undeclared war became an uneasy truce of sorts. Two weeks later, Helen no longer considered Tess her enemy, but she wasn't her friend, either.

"I should still be angry with you for blackmailing me into this task," Helen said, bending over her tapestry to pretend interest in the work.

"Aye," Tess agreed, not bothering to look up. "You have a most forgiving soul, Lady Helen. I thought you would hold out much longer before agreeing to help stitch these cushions. And I was not at all sure you would ever talk to me." Tess laid her needle down and gazed into the fire, her expression reflective.
" 'Tis
been a long while since I had someone to talk with."

"You near talked my ears off those first few days," Helen admitted with a genuine smile. "You asked so many questions that at first I thought it some sort of punishment. What was my favorite color? Did I have any pets? Where did I get the cloths for my gowns? I finally began answering, hoping for a bit of silence. Yet once I started talking, I realized how much I too have missed having company." Helen lowered her gaze and returned to her stitching. "Before my father died I took my friends for granted, not knowing they would soon be called home."

"Your friends do not visit anymore?"

"Oh, they still visit occasionally," Helen said. "At least, they did before Kenric returned. But they used to live here. Young men were sent to train as squires for knighthood. The young women came to learn the workings of a large household, although most were more concerned with finding a husband."

"But why were they called home?" Tess asked. Helen worked diligently over her tapestry, so engrossed in the task that Tess all but gave up on an answer.

"Because their parents did not want them in Kenric's household.
Within a month, all were gone. Even my younger brother, Guy, was called away to serve the king."

"You have another brother?" Tess asked sharply, startled by that revelation.

"Guy turned sixteen last summer." Helen's eyes grew misty and she turned away. "I have not seen him for almost a year. Guy's training keeps him very busy and he is allowed to visit just once each summer."

"Now that Kenric has returned, perhaps the king could be persuaded to let Guy come home. Kenric is more than qualified to see that Guy is well trained."

Helen stiffened noticeably and her practiced mask of indifference slipped into place. Tess wished again that she was half as good as the Montagues were at disguising their emotions. No show of temper. No hint of anger.
Just a cold, emotionless stare.
What a handy talent that would have been in her dealings with the MacLeiths!

"Guy will never return to live at Montague. Not while Kenric is here."

"But this is Guy's home," Tess argued. "If Kenric truly believes Guy should not return, then you should make him see the wrongness in his thinking."

"There is much you do not know about the Montagues," Helen said bitterly, shaking her head.

"I know practically nothing about the Montagues. There is no question that something is wrong in this household. Even a blind man would sense it the moment he walked through the gates. Yet I will never know what is wrong if no one tells me."

"How naive you are." Helen sneered. "Don't you know who you've married? The
real
reason they call him the Butcher of Wales? He slaughters for sport. Not only enemy soldiers, but defenseless women and children."

"Kenric does not kill for sport," Tess said staunchly. "He is a knight and a warrior. Knights slay their enemies, but they do not kill innocents."

"The Butcher of Wales does. Ask anyone. Four years ago, Kenric and his army came across a rebel camp in the forests of
Wales. The Welsh soldiers were off fighting somewhere else, so Kenric put their women and children to the sword." Helen's eyes
narrowed,
her tone venomous. "
That
is the reason they call him the Butcher. The knight's code of honor means nothing to a man who lacks honor entirely. He kills anyone who gets in his way. Think of the women he raped as he holds you in his arms at night, how he slit their throats afterward. Think of the children he hacked to pieces when yours gather round your skirts someday. Try to—"

"
Stop
!"
Tess wailed, covering her ears.

"Do you think a monster like that would hesitate to kill the boy whose rightful place he has taken as Montague's baron? Whose heritage he has stolen? You want to know the truth? The truth is he has deceived you, Lady. He made you believe he is the rightful Baron of Montague, fit to marry a woman of noble blood, when in fact he is no more than a bastard."

"I don't believe it," Tess whispered, still thinking about the Welsh tale. No honorable knight would kill defenseless women and children. Then again, none other was called Butcher. She wrapped her arms around her stomach and began to rock back and forth.

" 'Tis
true enough. You have
married
a bastard," Helen added dramatically. "Your children will be tainted with a bastard's blood. Your own soul is stained beyond heaven's acceptance, even though you were tied to Kenric without knowledge of his sin. Father Bronson says bastards are the evil seed of man come to life. Spawns of the Devil, put on earth to punish men for their sinful ways."

Tess wanted to escape to her chamber, to hide from the truths she'd so foolishly demanded of Helen. But now that she was finally getting what she wanted, it would be foolish to leave. Knowledge was a useful weapon. She forced herself to respond to Helen's ridiculous beliefs.

"You and Kenric bear a strong resemblance," Tess began, but Helen interrupted her to explain.

"He is my mother's son," Helen admitted. "My mother was a lady-in-waiting to King Edward's mother. Our king was as handsome in his youth as he is now in his prime. And the Plantaganet males have always had an eye for beautiful women. My mother was very beautiful," Helen said with a shrug. "Her marriage to my father was arranged as soon as the pregnancy was discovered."

"The king is Kenric's father?" Tess whispered, truly shocked by that news. Oh, Lord. This changed everything.

"Aye, 'tis the sorry truth."
Helen stood up and turned toward the fire. Tess remained seated, stunned into silence.

"My father was married once before but his first wife died childless. He was near two score years and the last of his line. Without an heir, Montague would revert to the crown upon my father's death. Old King Henry saw a way to avoid the problems involved with naming a new baron and to avoid the scandal of his son's pregnant mistress. He gave my father a ready-made heir to claim as his own and my mother a name for her bastard. No one expected they would have more children. Yet I was born four years after they wed, Guy, three years after that. My mother had a calming influence on Father, but his hatred of Kenric was obvious to all by the time Guy was born. In the last years of his life, my father did everything within his power to drive the king's evil seed from our home. But there was nothing he could do to change the fact that Kenric was his legal heir."

And Tess thought to petition the king for an annulment from this son? He would laugh in her face. Her elaborate plan to gain the king's support went up in a puff of smoke.

"You must—"

"I must think," Tess interrupted, waving a hand for silence. Perhaps a priest would annul the marriage because Kenric was a bastard. If she could find a priest with no wish for a long life, Tess thought gloomily. And what would her own life be worth if she exposed a secret the king himself had gone to such lengths to hide? It would never work. There would be no annulment.

"Those within Montague know the truth," Helen said, seeming determined to interrupt Tess's thoughts.
" 'Tis
the reason they will not accept Kenric as their baron."

"You have done nothing to ease the situation," Tess said irritably. Helen's hatred of Kenric was the least of her concerns at the moment. Yet Helen's next comment drew her back to the conversation.

"That is the reason my younger brother cannot come home. If Guy returns to Montague, Kenric will kill him. Guy is the true Baron of Montague," she said haughtily, earning a raised brow from Tess. "Given the opportunity, I believe my father would have killed Kenric to see matters set straight."