True Love (33 page)

With Royce and Lady Edith gone, Wortham
Castle became a quieter place. As they had done many times in the
past during Royce's absences, Captain William saw to the defenses
while Catherine managed all domestic matters. The difference this
time lay with the three noblemen who were being held in the
dungeon, and with the presence of the three knights charged with
conducting them to the king. Braedon, Cadwallon, and Desmond each
took turns on duty in the anteroom outside the dungeon, keeping
company with the men-at-arms sent there by Captain William.

“It's necessary,” Braedon said to Catherine
as they sat with Captain William in the great hall late on the day
of Royce's departure. “All three of our prisoners are likely to be
sentenced to death after King Henry hears the story we have to
tell. And all of them know it. If I were in such straits I'd have
no hesitation about attempting an escape. Better by far to be
killed fighting to get free, than face a traitor's death.”

“Which raises the question of how they are to
be transported to Gloucester,” Captain William said. “I cannot help
but worry about Phelan's men whom Royce has sent back to Sutton. He
felt that Phelan is so disagreeable a master that those fellows
must hold little loyalty to him and would be glad to leave their
lord behind. That's probably true of most of them, but there's a
handful in that crowd who I fear would sell their own souls in hope
of some reward from Phelan. Those are the men who may try to rescue
Phelan and Eustace, once they are outside the walls of
Wortham.”

“I agree,” Braedon responded. “I argued with
Royce about keeping the men from Sutton here until after we've had
time to reach Gloucester, but Royce claimed he saw little danger.
He believed Phelan's people would all head for Sutton and remain
there in hope of saving their own skins if Phelan is declared a
traitor.”

“This past winter, when I was at Sutton for
the wedding of Phelan's daughter,” Catherine said, “I had a chance
to observe that household. Most of Phelan's men looked to me to be
little better than brigands. It’s possible they will think their
chances are stronger if they turn outlaw, rather than returning to
Sutton Castle. They might decide to rescue Phelan as a way to thumb
their noses at my father. I told my father as much, but he shrugged
off my concerns. I could tell there was something else on his
mind.”

“I voiced much the same concern,” Braedon
said, his eyes on Catherine, “But Royce was in no mood to listen to
anything I had to say. It seemed to me, too, that his thoughts were
distracted by other matters. I have the impression that whatever is
troubling him goes far beyond the work we have been doing here at
Wortham.”

“I expect Royce is planning to kill you as
soon as King Henry declares your present mission completed,”
Captain William said pleasantly.

“I expect the same thing,” Braedon responded
quietly.

“You are in the wrong, you know,” Captain
William said to Braedon. “You overstepped your place.”

He was carefully not looking at Catherine,
which was just as well, because her face was flaming. She did not
blame Captain William for what he said. Since he was in charge of
castle security it was natural for Royce to warn him about
Braedon's attachment to Catherine. She did understand why the men
were so calm about her father's intentions toward Braedon. It was a
matter of knightly honor. Their loyalties to their king came first,
and not until their present duties were fulfilled would they be
free to indulge in personal feuds.

While Catherine understood male thinking on
the subject of Braedon making love to her, she could not agree with
the male reaction. The possibility of her lover and her father
killing each other was too dreadful to contemplate. She wanted the
two men she loved best in the world to be reconciled, not spilling
each others' blood.

“If you will excuse me, my lady.” Braedon was
on his feet, bowing to her with unaccustomed formality. “It is time
for me to relieve Cadwallon. He has been guarding the dungeon since
midday.”

“Are you designated to stand guard all
night?” Catherine asked, her hope for a few quiet hours alone with
Braedon vanishing like smoke in a chill wind.

“I have volunteered for night duty until we
leave for Gloucester,” Braedon said. “I know I can depend on you to
feed Cadwallon well when he comes to the hall, and ask him if his
arm is aching. It was uncomfortable earlier today.”

Captain William waited until Braedon left the
hall before he, too, rose from the table where they had all been
sitting.

“I must check on the sentries,” he said.

“Have you appointed yourself my chaperone?”
Catherine asked, standing to face him.

“Before your father left, I promised him I'd
keep you safe,” Captain William said. “While I am in charge of
defending Wortham, you will not spend time alone with Sir Braedon.
That was your father's order, and I will obey it.”

“You men think nothing of making arrangements
for me, but none of you ask me what I want.” Never mind that women
were supposed to obey their menfolk. Catherine had never been
particularly obedient and she wasn't going to begin now.

“He isn't worthy of you, Catherine.” Captain
William rubbed a hand across his grizzled beard. His eyes were
somber. “I have known you all your life, I've watched you grow up,
and I love you as if you were my own child. I'll tell you this; in
my opinion, Sir Braedon is not a bad man. If he held a title, or
had prospects of coming into a title or some land, or even if he
knew his father's name, possibly I would feel differently, and
possibly so would Lord Royce.”

“He does know who his father is.”

“Has he told you the man's name?”

“No, but—”

“Braedon has taken unknightly advantage of
you,” Captain William interrupted her protest. “He will be punished
for what he's done. That much is inevitable. I just pray he doesn't
kill your father when they meet in combat. Braedon is a good twenty
years younger than Royce, and in a long fight, youth usually
wins.”

“No! That cannot happen. I won't allow
it.”

“You must face the possibility, Catherine,
and accept your responsibility for whatever befalls either man. I
know Braedon well enough by now to believe he never forced
you.”

Captain William's face was so solemn, his
eyes so sad, that Catherine almost burst into tears. She laid both
her hands on his arm, the same strong arm that used to lift her up
when she was a little girl, holding her so she could see over the
battlements when she was watching for her father to come home.

“My father will not die because of what I've
done,” she promised. “Nor will Braedon. I'll do anything I can to
prevent such an ending.”

“I hope you can,” Captain William said. “For
all of your sakes, I hope you find a way.”

They were to leave Wortham early on Monday
morning. Achard was the first of the prisoners to be brought up
from the dungeon.

“I have been told you are taking me to see
the king,” Achard said to Braedon. He waved a hand over his
disheveled clothing and gave his scrubby blond beard a tug. “I
cannot go like this.”

“You are a prisoner; why not look like one?”
Braedon responded.

“I do not expect you to understand, bastard,
but it matters to a nobleman whether he is clean or dirty. I want a
hot bath. Is my squire still here? If so, let him bring fresh
clothing. He can shave me.”

“It's not an unreasonable request,” Cadwallon
said to Braedon. “Achard has always been fastidious in his
appearance. Perhaps he will promise to behave while he is allowed
to clean up and change his clothes.”

“Certainly, I will,” Achard said, and smiled
at Cadwallon in a friendly way. “At least you understand, if
Braedon does not. I give my word of honor not to attempt to escape,
knowing full well that when I am taken before the king, he will
command my immediate release, for I have done nothing wrong. It's
you the king will punish, Braedon. Wait and see.”

“I will accept your word,” Braedon said after
a few moments of consideration, “for the space of one hour only. No
more.” As if to give added weight to the declaration, he laid a
hand on his sword hilt.

“An hour will be all I require,” Achard
responded.

Achard's squire was summoned and a
man-at-arms saw the two to Achard's room, where all of his
belongings except his weapons still lay, and where the squire had
been sleeping during his master's absence.

“What?” Cadwallon said, seeing the way
Braedon looked after Achard with a frown. “He has given his word;
he'll cause no trouble.”

“The man has pledged himself to two kings and
has forsworn both pledges. Despite his claim that he will be
released after seeing King Henry, he must know that he will meet a
severe judgment, if not a traitor's death, when he reaches
Gloucester. I tell you, Cadwallon, I have no faith in Achard's
word, not because my low birth prevents me from understanding
honor, but because
he
is untrustworthy.”

“In the past, he was our friend,” Cadwallon
said.

“A false friend. Achard lied to all of us,
constantly, for too many years.”

“Have I heard aright?” asked Captain William,
coming into the great hall. “Is it true you didn't put Achard in
chains the instant he was brought out of the dungeon?”

“A man has a right to a bath,” said
Cadwallon.

“Your heart is too soft.” Captain William
responded to Cadwallon's generous sentiment with a disgusted
snort.

“It's his head that's soft,” Braedon said
with a wry grin. “Next, Cadwallon will be asking permission for
Eustace to cut his toenails before we leave.”

“There won't be any delay because Achard is
bathing,” Cadwallon said. “The ladies aren't ready yet, and the
horses aren't even saddled.”

“One of the ladies is ready.” Catherine came
through the screens passage in time to hear the end of the
conversation. Gowned in a vivid green riding dress, with her bright
hair braided and pinned up into a knot at the back of her head, she
was so lovely that Braedon's heart twisted painfully at the sight
of her.

“Gwendolyn will join us in a moment,”
Catherine went on, “and Aldis is just seeing to the last of our
packing. Captain William, I have warned Cook that you and your men
are to be as well fed as if my father were still in residence.
There is plenty of food in the larders, and no excuse for skimping
on your rations just because the kitchen staff is tired after
feeding so many guests. I will want to know if there are any
problems with your meals. Everything else is in good order for your
comfort, and that of your men, while I am away.”

“Thank you, my lady.” Captain William smiled
at her, then looked up at a loud sound from above.

“What is that noise?” Catherine asked.

“Achard!” Braedon raced for the entry hall
and the stairs, drawing his sword as he went. “Cadwallon, guard
Catherine with your life!”

“So much for generosity and a traitor's word
of honor,” said Captain William, whose own weapon was quickly in
his hand, ready for use.

Evidently, Achard's squire had managed to
smuggle a sword into his master's chamber, for Achard was fighting
on the stairs with the man-at-arms who had accompanied him to his
room.

Catherine rushed forward, brushing aside
Cadwallon's restraining hand and ignoring his pleas that she stay
safe inside the great hall. She reached the arch into the entry
hall just as Achard aimed a vicious kick at the man-at-arms,
knocking him off the stairway and onto the stone floor some feet
below.

If not for Braedon's presence Achard would
have won his way out of the keep to the inner bailey. Whether he
could have gotten farther was debatable, for while Braedon engaged
Achard, Captain William planted his sturdy form in the open door of
the keep and shouted into the bailey for more men. Next he braced
himself to back Braedon's effort to prevent Achard from
escaping.

“Well, bastard,” Achard said to Braedon. He
was grinning and barely winded after his skirmish with the
man-at-arms and he spared no more than a hasty glare for Captain
William. Braedon was the chief subject of his interest. “It's time
for you to pay for keeping me from what I most want.”

“What do you want?” Braedon asked.
“Catherine? Or Royce's position with the king? Which do you covet
more?”

Braedon crouched, his broadsword balanced in
both hands, waiting for Achard to make the first thrust.

“Not Catherine,” Achard said, “just her
dowry. As for Royce, my squire tells me he is still alive. And here
I thought you had killed him for me. What a pity. Next time, I'll
see to the matter personally. And yes, I do want Royce's position.
I will have it, too. Before I'm done, I will own all that is
Royce's.”

“You'll have to kill a lot of good men
first,” Braedon told him. As they talked he was slowly circling his
opponent, edging Achard out of the entry and toward the great hall,
where there was more room to maneuver.

Suddenly, Achard swung his sword at Braedon,
who parried the blow with practiced skill. Their fierce movements
propelled them into the hall. Cadwallon snatched Catherine out of
the way just as Desmond appeared at her other side. Maidservants
and squires scattered, leaving the center of the great hall empty.
Still holding his sword ready, Captain William moved to stand
squarely in the arch, thus blocking the nearest exit. His
men-at-arms crowded behind him, all of them eager for a view of the
duel between such well-matched knights.

It was a brutal fight, with no quarter asked
or given, and as it went on and on Catherine began to think it
would never end. The partially healed wound on Braedon's right arm
opened and started to bleed under the strain of wielding his heavy
sword. Neither man was wearing armor, so each slashing stroke that
touched an opponent drew blood. Their faces and hands were slick
with sweat, and their breathing grew labored.