Bound to Her Blood Enemy

by Tora Williams

  He scrambled to his knees and heard the guard draw a breath. There was no time to think. Before the man could cry out, Huw flung himself upon him, pressing an arm to his windpipe. The shout came out as no more than a croak.

  Gasping, Huw glanced around to see that all the other guards had been overpowered. Without shifting his arm from his captive’s throat, he said, “Agree to surrender quietly and you won’t be harmed. It’s over.”

  The man’s gaze fixed on a point over Huw’s shoulder, before returning to his face. His lips curled. “I think not.”

  There came the clatter of several boots upon the stone steps. Before Huw could react, hands grasped his shoulders. They jerked him to his feet, spun him around. Other hands snatched his sword and tore his knife from his belt. He glanced round frantically for his men. Sweet Jesu, they’d be taken too. This couldn’t be happening. He’d planned so carefully. Thought of everything.

  A man stepped into the torchlight. Fitzjohn.

  He sneered at Huw. “Did you truly think I would let Coed Bedwen be taken so easily?” He tilted his head toward a man standing in the shadows beside him. “Fortunately, I had help. I knew you couldn’t have escaped alone, and as you’d been working in the stables, I worked out the most likely culprit.”

  Huw frowned at the dark shape. It couldn’t be. It looked like…

  “Godric!” he gasped. He strained against his captors, determined to land at least one blow upon the traitor.

  Godric stepped forward, then dropped to his knees. Huw, in his surprise, ceased to struggle.

  “Forgive me, my lord,” Godric pleaded. “Fitzjohn knows Alys is my sister. Said he’d kill her if I didn’t reveal your plans.”

  Huw sagged. No wonder Godric had been shaking. He’d been terrified for his sister. Huw hated to think what he’d have done in a similar situation. “Peace, Godric; I don’t blame you,” he said. “I’m sorry for bringing you both into this.”

  He turned to Fitzjohn. “You have what you want. Promise you won’t harm any more innocent lives.”

  “You’re in no position to make demands. I might have Coed Bedwen, but I still need Matilda. Tell me where she is, and I’ll consider it.”

  “Don’t tell him,” Godric cried, but Huw hardly heard him through the roaring in his ears.

  Matilda. Devastation engulfed him. He’d lost everything. First Matilda and now all hope of regaining Coed Bedwen.

  He hung his head and closed his eyes. His great-uncle had been right after all—he truly was worthless.

  Fitzjohn gave a nasty laugh that grated down his spine. “Take him to the keep and erect a scaffold in the bailey. In the morning I’ll show the people what happens to those who try to take what is mine. And after that there will be a wedding to celebrate.” He sneered at Huw’s gasp of denial. “Tomorrow night, your widow will be warming my bed.”

  Huw’s captors shifted their grip for one moment. That was all he needed. He didn’t hesitate—he would save Matilda from Fitzjohn even though he would most likely die in the attempt.

  He flung his full weight at Fitzjohn and caught him squarely in the chest. The momentum of his leap carried them both over the edge of the walkway. For what felt like an eternity, all Huw was aware of was the wind whistling in his ears and the wool of Fitzjohn’s tunic bunched in his fists.

  Then they hit the ground, Fitzjohn breaking Huw’s fall. There was a sickening crack. Fitzjohn jerked once, then lay still.

  For a score of heartbeats, Huw lay still, fighting for breath. He gradually became aware of aches and bruises. With care, he tested each limb and found that although he would likely be black and blue in the morning, he had taken no serious hurt. He staggered to his feet and looked down at Fitzjohn. His enemy lay on his back, his neck at an unnatural angle, sightless eyes fixed open, reflecting the cold moonlight.

  Huw wiped blood from his lips and looked up at the men on the wall. They all stared down at the ghastly body, making no move to fight.

  “This ends now!” He shouted up at Fitzjohn’s men. “Lay down your arms, and I guarantee no one else will be harmed. Those who wish it will be granted safe passage to England. Because Coed Bedwen is Welsh once more.”

  There was a harsh clatter of steel upon stone as one by one, Fitzjohn’s men threw down their weapons. Soon cheers echoed from the walls as it sank in that Coed Bedwen had at last been returned to its rightful owners. Without needing any more orders from Huw, his men led away the prisoners and opened the gates for their king.

  Huw sank down upon the cold steps and buried his head in his hands. He’d won Coed Bedwen. He’d finally achieved his wish.

  It meant nothing.

  He had won his castle but lost Matilda. Lost the one person who could give his victory any meaning.

  As though his great-uncle was standing at his shoulder, he heard the words that had haunted him for years. You are nothing.

  Only this time, Matilda’s voice cut through. What a vicious thing to say. Which, of course, it had been. Only a mean-minded, heartless whoreson would say such a thing to a boy who had just lost his father. Not a man worth giving any credence to.

  He looked at his men, all of whom had followed his command and taken the castle before the king could even bring reinforcements. Some of them saw him looking and raised their swords in salute.

  He had done this. He had achieved what his father and great-uncle before him had failed to do. He had retaken Coed Bedwen.

  He sprang to his feet, fists clenched. If he had won Coed Bedwen when all had seemed lost, then, by God, he would win Matilda.

  At that moment Owain and his men, accompanied by the villagers, dashed through the gates. His mouth set in a determined line, Huw strode toward him. After all he had done for him, the king could surely spare men to help get the castle in a fit state to receive its mistress. He would fetch her at the earliest possible time and not a moment later.

  He would fight for her love. And he was damned if he was going to lose.

  Chapter Twenty

  Matilda paced from the door of her uncle’s great hall to the dais and back again. Fifteen paces. The same as it had been every one of the hundred or more times she had repeated the exercise this morning and each time she had done it over the past week.

  She missed Huw. Ached for him. Mourned the loss of the only love she would ever know. But whenever she considered returning to him, the memory of the dream would return, leaving her sick and shaky. It was no good. The blood oath would always be there and sooner or later it would drive them apart. Yet how to overcome it? She still hadn’t found a solution.

  A door opened behind the dais and Gruffyth entered. “Come with me, Matilda. There’s something I’ve been meaning to give you.”

  His tone implied it was something she would be pleased with, but she couldn’t summon up much interest. She’d found it hard to muster enthusiasm for anything since she had parted from Huw. Nevertheless, she might as well see what her uncle wanted to show her. It beat walking another fifteen paces.

  She followed him into his private chamber, to a table upon which stood a small wooden chest, painted with vivid swirls of red, blue, and green.

  “This is something I’ve been holding for you for some years,” Gruffyth said. “I was going to give it to you when you left, but you’ve seemed so lost since you’ve been here that I thought you’d like to know you do have some resources of your own.”

  He placed the chest in Matilda’s hands. Matilda nearly dropped it, surprised at the weight.

  “When my mother—your grandmother—died, she left some jewels to your mother. However, she died before I could send them to her, so I held onto them until I could find a way of giving them to you. Go on—open it.”

  Matilda fiddled with the clasp until she could swing the lid open. She caught her breath when she saw the gleam of gold and gems, as bright as the colors on the box. “I…thank you. They’re beautiful. What should I do with them?”

  “They’re yours. It’s up to you. W
ear them…sell them…you decide. If there’s anything you wish to buy, the value of these would more than cover it.”

  The only thing she wanted was Huw. And no jewels, however costly, could equal his value.

  The value of a man’s life. That reminded her of something Huw had said to her the night before retaking Coed Bedwen: I don’t need Comyn blood or a blood price.

  A blood price. Her pulse quickened. Maybe there was a way she could be with Huw.

  “Uncle, can you tell me about…what is the word…galanas?”

  Gruffyth frowned. “Is this to do with Huw?”

  She nodded.

  “I’m sure he doesn’t hold you responsible, Matilda. I’d never have given permission for him to wed you if I thought he did.”

  “I know, but this is important. Please explain. Does it mean the killer or his family must pay a price to his victim’s heirs to make restitution?”

  “Broadly speaking, yes. The price set depends upon the status of the victim.”

  Matilda’s heart stirred into life. “And would these jewels fetch the right price for Huw’s grandfather?”

  “It would more than cover it.”

  Matilda’s hands started trembling so violently she had to replace the chest on the table before she dropped it. If Huw would accept it, then the blood debt would be paid. She and Huw could be together with no fear of his oath coming between them again.

  Now she had the means to end the torment of being apart from him, she didn’t want to waste a single heartbeat. “I have to go to Coed Bedwen. Immediately.” She prayed it wasn’t too late, that Huw hadn’t given up on her. “Can you arrange an escort?”

  “That won’t be necessary, Gruffyth. I’ve come to take my wife back.”

  That voice! Matilda’s stomach performed a giddy swoop. She spun around and pressed her hand to her throat when she saw Huw standing in the open doorway, silhouetted against the sunlight.

  “Huw!” She stepped forward, then stopped.

  Deep lines furrowed his brow. Her smile of greeting faded when he did not reply. She ached to touch him, but his face was stony. While he looked so cold, so remote, she couldn’t bring herself to mention the blood oath again.

  Huw held out his arm. “We’re leaving now.”

  “Wait. What about my luggage? And I need to say farewell to my aunt.”

  “I’ll send a servant for your luggage. I’m sure Gruffyth will carry your farewells to your aunt.”

  He took her arm. Matilda only just had time to bid a hasty goodbye to her smiling uncle and snatch up the box of jewels before he marched her to the stable, where his horse was waiting.

  “I’m not dressed for riding.”

  “That didn’t stop you before.” Huw’s gaze dropped to the chest. “What have you brought that for? I said I’d send for your things.”

  She clutched it tighter. “I’m not leaving without it.” She couldn’t explain. Not yet. She needed time to work out how to broach the subject. But when she did, she wanted to have the jewels with her. She would want to know there and then if he would accept them as a blood price. If he did, it would be assurance that he truly had let go of his blood oath. It was the only way she could be sure their love would survive.

  Cursing its weight, Huw stowed the box in a saddle pack. He swung her up into the saddle and climbed behind her. With one arm clamped around her waist, he spurred his horse into a gallop.

  The wind roared in her ears, and it was all she could do to hang on, leaning in the crook of his arm, just as she had done before. She leaned into his embrace. Talking was impossible, but she was in no hurry. If he refused to accept the blood price, this was the last time she would be able to take comfort in the warmth of his body, rest her head against his broad shoulders. Have his arm around her, making her feel safe. Conversation could wait.

  At the speed Huw set, they arrived at Coed Bedwen in less than half the time it had taken her to make the opposite journey. However, he didn’t ride to the castle. Instead he steered the horse toward the hill they had stood upon when they had first arrived in Coed Bedwen. When they reached the eaves of the woods, he slowed down and set the horse upon a narrow track that disappeared into the trees.

  “What are we doing here?” She clung to his arm, still breathless. Whether from the ride or his nearness, she couldn’t tell.

  “There’s something I must show you.”

  “What?”

  “You’ll see. Be patient.”

  The track followed a winding route, dodging around the silvery trunks of the birch trees. Overhead the heavy leaf buds were bursting open, decking the branches with glimmers of the palest green. Birdsong filled the air, a joyous clamor in complete contrast to Matilda’s gut-wrenching nerves. This wasn’t going how she’d planned.

  “How far are we going, Huw? There’s something I have to—”

  Then a sharply sweet scent teased her nostrils. “I remember that smell,” she said, feeling as though she had walked into a dream. “It’s…”

  Then they stepped into a clearing that was awash in a sea of nodding bluebells. Huw reined the horse to a halt and helped her dismount. She walked into the center, breathing deeply. Lost in memories of her mother.

  “Oh, Huw—you remembered!”

  “When I came here this morning and saw the bluebells, I took it as a sign that it was time to bring you back. To say what I’ve longed to tell you since we retook the castle.”

  Her heart thumped. “If it’s about the—”

  Huw held up his hand. “Hear me out. When I’ve finished you can have your say, but listen to me first.”

  He drew a deep breath. “Before our wedding, you told me Coed Bedwen was special to you because it was the only place that held happy memories. Then you challenged me to tell you why Coed Bedwen was special to me, and I couldn’t answer. I didn’t want to admit it then, but you had seen what I couldn’t—I’d been so busy trying to fulfill my father’s dream, I had no idea what I wanted. I couldn’t see past my oath. And my great-uncle’s words haunted me, made me believe that unless I fulfilled the oath, I was nothing. Worthless.

  “When I met you, it wasn’t long before I knew I could never harm you. But renouncing my driving goal in life gave my uncle’s words more hold over me. The only way to prove him wrong, or so I thought, was to take back Coed Bedwen.

  “Well, I’ve been here for a week, and I’ve been a blind fool. Coed Bedwen means nothing to me. I’ve never lived here, have no memories of the place. There’s only one thing that can give it meaning, make Coed Bedwen special.”

  “What’s that?” Matilda’s throat was so tight she had to force the words out.

  “You. I love you. If you give me another chance, try to trust me, we can make happy memories for the both of us. But…”

  He paused, and his expression was so grave that a chill of foreboding crept through Matilda’s limbs. She had been on the point of saying what was on her heart, but now she froze, mute, her heart hammering against her ribs.

  Huw swallowed. “If you decide you still can’t trust me, I promise to leave. I won’t stay here, unwanted and unloved. It’s time I formed a new purpose for myself—this time one of my own making. The deepest desire of my heart is to stay with you, protect and love you and guide the people of Coed Bedwen. But if you refuse my love, I’ll leave Coed Bedwen in your control. I’ve heard rumors of another crusade to the Holy Land. I’ll join that, just as you wished. I understand your fear of my blood oath, and I won’t have you suffer anxiety on that account. I’ll leave you in peace.”

  Tears pricked her eyelids. “Huw, I…I know I said I wanted Coed Bedwen for myself, but now… I couldn’t face it without you. It was wrong and foolish of me to think I was better off alone. When you arrived at my uncle’s, I was on my way to tell you just that.”

  Hope blazed from Huw’s eyes. He slipped a hand around her waist and pulled her close. “Then you’ll come back to me? Share my life?”

  He stooped over her, his face s
o close she had to fight to urge to steal a kiss. But there was still one thing to be settled before she could make any promises.

  “There’s one condition.”

  He frowned, wary. “What’s that?”

  “The box I brought. Fetch it.”

  The furrows on his brow deepened, but he did as she asked. “What’s in it?” he asked as he handed it over to her. “It feels like lead.”

  “Open it and see.”

  His look of shock when he raised the lid and saw the jewels inside would have made her laugh if her future wasn’t in the balance. “These have come to me from my grandmother. They’re yours. In payment of the blood price.”

  “Mallt, I can’t take these. They’re exquisite. You should wear them in honor of your grandmother.”

  “It’s not negotiable. If you can’t accept the blood price, then the debt still stands between us.”

  “But I told you the oath doesn’t matter to me anymore.”

  “It matters to me. If you won’t accept payment, then my grandfather’s actions will always cast a shadow over our love. I would never be free of the fear that it would eventually destroy us, drive us apart. Please, Huw, take the jewels and end this.”

  The corners of his lips curved upward. “Our love,” he repeated. “Then you admit you love me?”

  She nodded. “More than anything.”

  “Say it.”

  “Tell me you’ll accept the jewels, first.”

  “Then I accept. You’ve paid the blood price, and it no longer has any claim upon us.”

  The weight lifted from her heart. She felt light. Free. Giddy. Blinking back tears, she smiled up at him. “I love you, Huw. With all my heart. I’ll never stop loving you.”

  He whooped, and before she realized what he was about to do, he seized her around the waist and swung her in a wide circle, jewel box and all. Then he dropped to the ground, set the chest aside, and pulled her across his lap.

  She snuggled into his embrace, breathing in the scent of bluebells. Huw slipped his fingers under her chin and tilted her face up to meet his lips. His kiss was tender and reverent, but with the promise of passion to come. She curled her arms around his shoulders and poured all her love into the embrace, tasting the salt of her tears of joy.