When one man broke into a mournful song of lost love, Matilda shot an involuntary glance at Huw. He was staring at her, an intense gaze that stripped her bare. She wished the man would sing something else. She had just begun to get her emotions under control, but now the song made her think of the passion Huw had awoken in her. The memory of their lovemaking twisted her heart. Tears filled her eyes.
Huw leaned forward. “Are you well, Mallt?” The concern in his eyes made the tears flow faster.
She stumbled to her feet. “I…yes. I’m just tired. Perhaps I should retire.”
“No.” Huw grasped her shoulders. “We need to talk. Now. Before I go off to fight.”
She couldn’t refuse him. Not when there was a chance he might never come back. She owed him that much. “Very well, but not here.”
Knowing he would follow, she walked to the door and slipped outside into the starlit courtyard, which was, thankfully, deserted.
Huw reached out an arm as though to touch her but let it drop to his side.
She swayed toward him, her body aching to feel his arms around her. It was all she could do to keep her feet rooted to the spot. “What is it you have to say?”
Whatever it was, she doubted it could quell the fear in her heart.
Chapter Eighteen
Matilda gazed upward. The moonlight bathed her face in a silver glow, and Huw saw she was blinking. Most likely fighting tears. But what could he say to make things right?
All he could do was repeat what he’d already said. “I’m sorry you had to learn about the blood oath like that, but you have to believe me—I would never hurt you.”
She put her hand on his arm. Her touch seared through the woolen sleeve. “I do believe you. I trust you.”
Her words should have reassured him, but the glimmer of tears in her eyes cast a chill around his heart. “Then I don’t understand. What’s the problem? I’d never allow any harm to come to you. I’d protect you with my life. Everything I have is yours. Including my heart. What more could you want?”
Her face softened, and his heart leapt, thinking he’d won. He stepped closer so their bodies were nearly touching. Her honeysuckle scent fogged his senses. Her hand was still on his sleeve, and the heat from her touch rippled across his flesh and set the blood roaring in his ears. He raised a hand to brush the tears that had spilled down her cheek, but she halted him. She placed a hand on his chest. A hand that trembled.
“What about the blood oath?”
“What about it? It means nothing to me, Mallt.”
“How can you be sure? Nothing can take back what my grandfather did to your family. It will always be there…unspoken perhaps, but always between us.” She released his arm, and the chill at the loss of her touch was instantaneous.
He cursed the day he had ever been persuaded to make such a ruinous vow. “If God punishes me for reneging, then so be it, but I can’t believe he would want an innocent woman to suffer for her grandfather’s sins. You must believe me. I don’t hold you responsible. I don’t need Comyn blood or a blood price. You freed me from my need for revenge. All I need is you.”
“I wish it was that simple, Huw. Truly I do. But…oh, holy Mother, I didn’t know how difficult this was going to be.” She broke off with a sob and turned away, wiping her eyes.
Icy cold dread squeezed his heart. He had been against the marriage at the start, but the thought of losing Matilda made him feel as though he were being torn in two. It was impossible to imagine.
His heart pounded. Surely there was a way he could persuade her. To force her to believe in his love. But any form of trickery, of deceit was no longer an option and without that, what was left of him?
You are nothing!
The memory of his great-uncle’s words made his mouth go dry. All he had to offer her was the truth of who he really was deep inside. If that was the only way to win her back—to tell her the absolute truth—then he would do it. He would strip his soul bare for her.
And if she still rejected him then he truly was nothing.
He drew a deep breath. “I haven’t finished, Mallt. Hear me out.”
She turned her head, revealing tear-filled eyes that glittered in the moonlight. He gripped her shoulders, turning her, holding her gaze, compelling her to read the truth in his eyes as he spoke. “For years the blood oath held me. It was the only thing I had left. But you brought me to my senses. As I got to know you, I saw you as a woman in your own right, not merely a Comyn. You shattered my beliefs. I couldn’t hold on to the oath any more, but all the time, something my great-uncle said to me made me afraid to let it go.”
Matilda’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“I told you that when my father died, my great-uncle made it clear I had to leave.”
Matilda nodded. “Yes, but I don’t see—”
“That was true, but it wasn’t the whole truth.” He clenched his fists as he forced himself to repeat the words that had gouged deep wounds into his soul. “We had only just laid my father in his tomb when my great-uncle took me aside. He told me…” Huw struggled to keep his voice steady. “He told me he had only supported me for my father’s sake, but now he was gone it was time I knew I meant nothing to him. That’s what he said: ‘You own nothing, you have nothing to offer me. You are nothing’.”
He was glad it was too dark to see the pity in Matilda’s eyes, but he could hear it in her voice when she spoke. “What a vicious thing to say. What did you do?”
“I left. I couldn’t bear to stay, knowing my great-uncle despised me. Eventually I made my way to the royal court, and that’s when Owain took me into his service. But that’s not the important thing. I need you to understand this: for the longest time I believed him. I thought I was worthless. The only thing I had left to cling to was the blood oath. I thought if I fulfilled it, then I would regain my worth. Even when Owain spotted my talents and gave me a place as his spy, nothing I achieved had any value to me. It helped me forget, but nothing more. I thought I needed to take my revenge on the Comyns…on you…before I could start living.
“And then I met you. I struggled against my feelings, because it meant letting go of the only thing that gave my life meaning. But you changed me.”
He took Matilda’s shoulders, turning her toward the moonlight so he could search her face for a sign she believed him. He could see the battle in her eyes, but he couldn’t tell if he was winning her over. The only thing he could do was keep going.
“You’ve freed me, Mallt. The oath has no power over me. You can silence my great-uncle’s voice if you’ll love me. And I’ll never stop loving you.”
He cupped her chin in his hand and tilted her face toward his. “I’ll always be there for you, Mallt.”
To his shock, her eyes filled with tears. She twisted out of his grip. “Don’t say that,” she said. “Don’t promise me one thing when all along you know—”
“Know what?” A black was crushing his chest. He had bared his scars. If that wasn’t enough, he had nothing else to give.
“My father. What you just said… ‘I’ll always be there for you.’ My father said that to me. He…” She turned her face away and pressed her fingers to her quivering lips.
A surge of impatience swept through him. “Speak plainly, Matilda. What did your father do that was so terrible that you can’t accept my love?”
She straightened up and looked him in the eye, both hands clenched into fists at her sides. “One afternoon, my father made that promise to me. He told me he’d always be there for me. I was so happy. I thought that after all his grief over my mother, he’d finally come back to me.” Her voice hitched, and she drew a shuddering breath before continuing. “Then he told me he’d see me later and returned to his chamber. That was when he…”
A sob choked her next words, but he didn’t need to hear them. His irritation ebbed, leaving only deep sorrow for what Matilda had carried in her heart all these years. “I’m so sorry, Mallt. I—”
She cut him off with a chopping gesture and shook her head. “I need to say it. To make sure you understand.” Her voice wavered, but she managed to carry on. “Within the hour, he had taken the dose that killed him. He loved me, I know that. He knew I loved him, depended on him. He held my future happiness in his hands. But in the end, none of that was enough for him. His grief was too strong. He abandoned me and ripped out my heart.”
Huw didn’t wait to hear more. He gripped both her hands, willing her to believe his next words. “I would never do that to you. Never abandon you.”
“How can you be sure? Oh, I don’t mean that I don’t trust you. Our time together has taught me that even if I can never trust any other man, I can trust you. But in the end, my father’s grief overwhelmed his love for me. And now I’m afraid…so afraid that in the end your blood oath will eat away at you…overcome your love for me. Not that I fear you would hurt me, but that after a time you wouldn’t be able to look at me without remembering the suffering my grandfather caused. It would tear us apart. And to lose yet another person I loved…that would finish me, Huw. I couldn’t endure that pain again.”
An iron hand gripped Huw’s heart and squeezed tight. His throat was raw, every word a jagged spike of pain. “Tell me what I can do. What will ease your fear?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you don’t think the blood oath matters any more, but to me…now I know…it weighs heavily on me. Even without the fear of it separating us, I’d feel forever indebted to you. I… Give me time, please, Huw. I’m just not ready to place my future happiness into another man’s hands. Especially not with the chasm of an unpayable debt between us.” She looked away. “I’ve come to a decision, and I need you to accept it. When my uncle returns to his home, I’m going with him. I need to be apart from you…to think.”
Gently but firmly she withdrew her hands from his. Tears flowing down her cheeks, she turned and walked away.
Huw made no attempt to follow her. She had said she needed time, but he knew she was trying to soften the blow. She wouldn’t tell him she was leaving him for good right before he had to go into battle. But he had no doubt that afterward, she would tell him she couldn’t be with him.
He had held nothing back, revealed everything, and she had rejected him.
He truly was nothing.
****
Without looking back, Matilda stumbled inside, her vision blurred by a veil of tears. She blundered past Alys, ignoring her anxious inquiries and climbed up to the store room, where she lay down on the pallet. Her throat ached, and she felt hollow inside. Part of her was desperate to run back outside and fling herself into Huw’s arms, say she’d changed her mind. But each time she tried to imagine risking the pain, she would remember the devastation of her father’s death. The sick dread when Huw had been in Fitzjohn’s hands.
I’ll always be there for you. The words haunted her. Sometimes it was Huw who spoke, sometimes her father, but the warning was the same. Letting Huw into her heart would be risking her peace of mind. Whatever he might say, he would never truly be able to dissociate her from her family. From the blood oath. And when he finally gave up the struggle…
No. She could never endure another abandonment. Best to retire to her uncle’s household and wait until she had her treacherous heart under control. Surely, given time, she would find a way to rein in this powerful yearning she felt for Huw. Then she could return to Coed Bedwen, and they could enjoy separate lives in the same place, an arrangement common in many Norman marriages.
Her heart wrenched. What was worse? Being apart from Huw, or forced to see him every day, knowing he could never love her?
She buried her head beneath the blanket and sought to block her misery with sleep, but it was futile. Lying on a bed she had shared with Huw only a short time ago forced images of her with Huw into her mind, a cruel reminder of what she had lost.
Much later, her eyes burning with weariness, she heard a knock on the door and then voices and the clatter of armor and weapons being fastened. Owain’s messenger must have arrived. She kept her eyes closed and held her breath. She wanted to wish them safe but didn’t know how she could face Huw.
The door opened and closed again, and she let out a breath, thinking everyone had gone.
Then the stairs creaked. Huw’s voice made her jump. “We’re leaving now, Mallt. Owain’s waiting.”
It was no good. She’d never forgive herself if something happened to him. She raised herself up on one elbow and looked across the room. Huw was standing by the door, just visible by the glow of the rush lights. He was wearing a hauberk—Owain’s messenger must have brought it for him—and a sword at his belt.
“Take care, Huw. I know things are…difficult between us, but I’d hate it if you were hurt.”
He made a move as though to go to her, but stopped. After one last, lingering look, he strode to the door, the chain mail of his hauberk clinking with every move. Then he was gone. Perhaps forever.
At that moment she knew it was already too late. Huw was going into battle, and if he was killed, she would never recover. She loved him. She couldn’t bear to live without him.
If he returned safely, she would do all in her power to overcome the power of the blood debt that threatened to tear them apart.
Chapter Nineteen
Huw pushed aside the brambles concealing the tunnel entrance. Freshly lit lanterns revealed the stone steps winding up into the shadows. He blessed whoever had thought to leave them there—Godric, he guessed—and turned to the band of men he had led to this spot. A select group whose aim was to enter the castle through the tunnel and open the gates to let in Owain’s main force.
“Is everyone ready?” he asked.
There were nods all around.
“You know what to do. Let’s move. And remember, silence from now on.” He led the way into the dim passageway.
The trouble with silence was it gave too much space for thought. As he climbed through the tunnel, the echoes of the men’s footsteps and the soft chink of chain mail did nothing to block his thoughts.
Over and again he saw Matilda bathed in moonlight, her lips quivering with suppressed tears.
I need to be apart from you.
He had taken the biggest risk of his life. He had confessed his deepest thoughts and fears, told her of his rejection by his last surviving relative. He had stripped his soul bare and in return… He swallowed to ease the ache in his throat. In return, Matilda had made it clear she couldn’t bear to be with him. He should be angry, bitter, but in fact he felt nothing but desolation.
An uneven step tripped him, jolting him from his thoughts. He clutched the damp stone wall to steady himself. Concentrate! His men and most of the castle’s inhabitants were counting on him. He couldn’t afford to let his mind drift, no matter how much Matilda had wounded him.
To focus his mind, he did what he had always done when pretending to be someone else. He shut all the painful memories and emotions away in a box in the back of his mind and locked it. It would remain closed until he had completed his task. All he had left now was Coed Bedwen. He couldn’t afford to lose that too.
When they scrambled into the cellar, they found Godric waiting. Huw’s heart lurched when he took in the deep lines scoring Godric’s brow.
“What’s happened?”
The stable master blew out a breath. “Nothing. It’s just been an anxious wait.” He held up a lantern. His hand trembled so violently the flame quivered, bringing the shadows to looming life. Huw was stirred with pity. Godric hadn’t struck him as easily frightened. But then, how well did he truly know the man?
“Well, the wait’s over.” He prayed the need to act would ease Godric’s fear. He would be no use to them if he froze. “Tell me the positions of Fitzjohn’s men.”
“Fitzjohn and one watchman are in the keep. There are four more at the gates and another four on the walls. Everyone else is asleep in the hall.”
“Good. That’s what I’d hoped.” Huw
drew his sword. “Let’s go.”
By prior arrangement, the party split up as soon as they entered the bailey. Godric led one group to the great hall, others went to cover the walls, while Huw led his group down to the gates. Pressing his sword to his side to stop the hilt striking his mail, he led them to the shadows behind the blacksmith’s bothy. He held up a hand, halting the group.
“Remember.” He lowered his voice to little more than a breath. “Whatever happens, we must open the gates. If you get the chance, take it.” If they didn’t let in Owain and the main force, they were doomed to failure.
He peered around the corner, looking for the watchmen. Unlike the guards at Redcliff, they were wide awake. They stood at their posts, up on the wall above the entrance, keeping watch on the approach road. If they were swift and quiet, Huw hoped he and his men could take the guards by surprise and overpower them before they raised the alarm.
He crept to the foot of the steps that led up to the wall. With silent gestures, he indicated which guard each man should attack. Then, taking great care to make no noise, he slipped up the stairs. After a rapid glace over his shoulder to make sure everyone was in position, he raised his arm. He lunged at his chosen guard, intending to strike his head with the pommel of his sword.
At that exact instant, a bat swooped over the wall. The guard turned his head to follow its movement. The red torchlight revealed his gape-mouthed horror when he saw Huw. He ducked under Huw’s arm and seized him around the waist. They crashed down upon the walkway. Huw twisted away just in time to avoid landing beneath the guard.
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