Rage and Redemption

by Cyndi Friberg

  “Surely you’re not afraid of bending the rules?” Daniel asked.

  Gideon laughed. “The thought never crossed my mind,” he lied. Thanks to Naomi, thoughts like that never left his mind.

  He needed this—badly. A distraction. Something to divert his treacherous mind. To free him from the disturbing tendency to evaluate each thought, each action, by what would please her most.

  Chapter Twelve

  Monthamn Castle

  Sussex, England

  May 1148

  Naomi fidgeted on her palfrey as Leon of Le Puy called out the expected greeting to the guards in the watchtower. A drawbridge lowered and the iron portcullis rose, allowing the party into the lower bailey. Naomi could see the keep now, situated on an earthen motte, rectangular in shape with crenellated towers at each corner. The outer curtain wall was stone but the fortification surrounding the keep was constructed of wood.

  “The Monthamn fief dates back to the days of the Conqueror,” Leon said as he helped Naomi down from her horse. “The first Baron Monthamn crossed the channel with William of Normandy and the holdings have grown and prospered ever since. Monthamns are known for their strategic marriages. Roderick’s own marriage doubled the size of the estate.”

  “I see,” Naomi responded politely, but strategic marriages sounded so manipulative, so hollow. Why could her family not be known for their charity and compassion?

  “It all belongs to you now.”

  “Nay, it belongs to my grandfather,” Naomi insisted. She was in no hurry to inherit so vast a responsibility. She had much to learn before she was ready to step into that role.

  A tall, lanky lad ambled out of the stables to take their horses. Naomi glanced around the spacious clearing, her heart in her throat. It was all rather intimidating. A series of small stone workshops marched along the curtain wall and several rambunctious children chased each other through the grassy commons.

  To one side Naomi spied an orchard and a large garden. Eager plants had just pushed through the fertile earth to celebrate the promise of spring.

  “Come, my lady,” Leon said, casually cupping her elbow.

  She fell into step beside him as they crossed the domestic range. Naomi couldn’t help but compare it to the mighty Krak. MonthamnCastle, in its entirety, would easily fit within the lower bailey of Krak des Chevaliers.

  Leon used the huge brass knocker to announce their arrival. Two lads heaved open the door but a dour-faced man, standing back from the threshold, offered the greeting.

  “Please come this way. We have been expecting you.”

  None of it seemed real to Naomi. She had moved through the past nine weeks as if in a dream. Countries and seas now separated her from anyone who had ever cared about her.

  Still grieving the loss of Brother Gabriel, Naomi had foolishly allowed Gideon to slip away. Nay, that had not been foolish. Every day she tried to convince herself of that fact. It didn’t matter that she missed his wicked smile and longed for the molten heat of his gaze. He was part of her past and she was determined to concentrate on the future.

  The servant motioned to his right. “This way.”

  He led them to the small counting room in the back corner of the great hall. Rapping his knuckles against the iron-banded wood, he pushed the door open and departed without saying another word.

  “You’ll have to forgive Kruthers. He’s a masterful bailiff but not much for socializing.”

  Naomi couldn’t see the speaker until Leon stepped out of her way. Leon turned slightly and offered her an encouraging smile before she stepped fully into the room.

  A man stood behind the wooden table staring at her with obvious curiosity. His thick hair just reached his shoulders in snow-white waves. Creases and wrinkles concealed his expression so Naomi focused in on his eyes. They were wide and clear, accented by surprisingly dark lashes, and they were the same bright blue as her own.

  She dropped into a nervous curtsy and forced her gaze down. When she dared to raise her face again, the man stood directly in front of her.

  “You look very much like your mother, girl. But there is some of Malcolm there too. And by God, you’ve got my eyes!”

  He seemed pleased by the discovery so Naomi tried to relax. “My name is Naomi.” She spoke softly, surprised by the emotion constricting her throat.

  Roderick’s gaze shot to Leon. “Who gave her that name? Did the monk who raised her name her? Is it possible that he knew?”

  Leon just shrugged so Roderick turned back to Naomi. “Who named you?”

  “My mother. She told Brother Gabriel my name and pressed me into his arms before she lost consciousness.” Her throat began to burn and she felt her lower lip tremble. “It’s all I’ve ever had of her.”

  He brushed his wrinkled fingers gently across her cheek, his gaze intent upon her face. “My wife’s name was also Naomi. Malcolm promised her that his first daughter would carry on her name.”

  His big blue eyes filled with tears and Naomi lost the battle with hers. “I wish I could have known them,” she sobbed.

  Roderick pulled her against his big, barrel chest and Naomi melted into his embrace. She rested her forehead against his shoulder and allowed herself to cry. She cried for the mother she’d lost and the father she’d never know. She cried for all of the lonely nights she spent parted from her family.

  “Welcome home, Naomi.” He eased her to arm’s length and smiled into her eyes. “I have prayed every day for this event.”

  “I never dared to hope…” Naomi’s voice broke, and her chin quivered. “I dreamed as any orphan dreams, but I never really allowed myself to believe they were anything more than dreams.”

  He touched her face again as if to assure himself that she was real. “Well, this is no dream.” Stepping back from her, he turned to face Leon. “To you I will be eternally grateful. I sent you away on a fool’s errand and you returned with the answer to my prayers.”

  “Yours were not the only prayers. My family was just as anxious to find her as were you.”

  Roderick slapped Leon on the back and said, “Your family is going to have to wait. I intend to be completely selfish with this young lady. At least for a while.”

  “I expected as much.”

  Moving with obvious effort, Roderick made his way to the hearth. “There is so much here to understand. Come, sit by my fire. Let us talk.”

  Naomi sat on one of the benches flanking the fire.

  Leon recounted the tale of how Esther came to be at the church. Naomi interjected comments now and then to clarify.

  “And this monk saw to your care for all the years that followed?” Roderick leaned forward, resting his forearms across his knees.

  “I was a ward of the Order of St. John, but Brother Gabriel was never far from my side,” Naomi explained.

  “Where is he now?”

  “Brother Gabriel had obligations that made it impossible for him to accompany me.” The emptiness within Naomi pulsed in response to the words.

  “Then you were raised entirely in the company of monks?”

  Naomi managed to smile. He made it sound so unappealing. “For the majority of my childhood we remained in Jerusalem. There were other orphans for me to play with and I spent many hours helping out in the hospital. Brother Gabriel and others of his order schooled me. My days were filled with the excitement of learning and the satisfaction of helping others.”

  “What were you taught by these brothers?” Roderick asked.

  “Everything. History and theology, languages and ciphering. He even let me try my hand at illuminating manuscript pages.”

  Roderick’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened to amusing proportions. “You can read and write?”

  “God blessed me with incredible opportunities, sir. I speak five languages but I am only literate in English, French and Latin.”

  “Unbelievable,” Roderick muttered. “My granddaughter is a scribe.”

  Naomi smiled again. “How well those s
kills will serve me here has yet to be seen. I fear I’ve much to learn.”

  Leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, Roderick returned her smile. “Well, you appear to be quite adept at learning.” He paused for a moment and speculation filled his expression. “We shall organize a feast, send invitations far and wide, but tell no one the reason for the celebration. Then at the height of the festivities, I shall introduce my granddaughter and heir.”

  “I’ll stay until the feast,” Leon said. “That way I’ll be here to offer my endorsement and demonstrate my acceptance of Naomi as well.”

  “What say you, girl? Are you up for a celebration?” Roderick asked with a cheerful grin.

  “Not today,” she admitted, and both men laughed. “I’m overwhelmed by all of this. Please slow things down just a bit. Give me a few days to adjust.”

  Roderick rose and took her hands between his. “I apologize. I’ve been waiting so long for this day. I keep forgetting how it must be affecting you. Relax. Settle in. We will make plans once you have found your bearings.”

  He drew her to her feet, his eyes searching her face.

  “I want you to be happy here,” he said softly. A sudden sadness clouded his gaze. “I only wish your grandmother had lived to see this day. She would have adored you. And she would know what to do to ease your fears and make you feel at home.”

  Hope blossomed within her breast, pushing back the darkness and making her feel strong. Gazing deeply into eyes so like her own, Naomi said, “I am not afraid.”

  * * * * *

  After a hot meal, a long leisurely bath and a good night’s sleep, Naomi awoke refreshed and ready for the day. Roderick took her on a quick tour of the domestic range but not long into the outing his skin grew pale and his legs began to tremble.

  “Damn and blast,” he muttered. “Can hardly walk to the privy without needing a nap.”

  Naomi squeezed his arm and smiled. “There’s no hurry. I’m not going anywhere.”

  With obvious reluctance, he recruited Leon to show her the rest of the castle and the village beyond. Leon made a courteous and informative guide but Naomi’s thoughts remained with Roderick.

  “How long has he been ill?” she asked softly as they passed beyond the outer curtain wall.

  “He had a bout with lung fever this summer past that nearly claimed his life. He’s never fully recovered. Since Michaelmas his strength has gradually faded. No one expected him to last the winter but Roderick is a tough old buzzard.”

  Naomi only nodded. If she was only to have a short time with her grandfather, then she needed to make every moment count.

  Monthamn Major, the larger of the two villages, lay closer to the castle than Monthamn Minor. Naomi strolled through the village on her uncle’s arm, silently taking in the quiet charm.

  Leon’s steps faltered slightly and Naomi followed his gaze, curious what had caused the reaction. Two men stood in front of a stone church. Black robes and a large golden cross identified the priest, but there didn’t seem to be anything unusual about the man speaking with him.

  “Who are they?” Naomi asked.

  “Father John and Frederick of Westerville.”

  Before Leon could offer a more detailed explanation, the priest noticed their interest. He walked toward them, the other man half a step behind.

  “Good day, kind sir,” the priest greeted them. “What brings you to my humble village?”

  Something within Naomi recoiled from the priest. His dark hair was shorn close to his scalp and his rounded cheeks had a ruddy cast. Nothing unusual there, but cold calculation gleamed from his dark eyes.

  “Roderick asked me to show Lady Naomi the sights,” Leon said simply.

  Father John stepped nearer and Naomi stomped down the urge to back away.

  “Lady Naomi?” The priest inclined his head ever so slightly but his gaze never left her face. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”

  “She has only recently arrived,” Leon told him.

  The other man stepped forward and took Naomi’s hand. She had not raised it and his presumptuousness made her stomach knot.

  “Frederick of Westerville,” he said, not waiting for Leon to introduce him. “From whence have you come to grace our provincial village?”

  Leon stepped closer, eyes alert as he studied the tall stranger. “Lady Naomi is Roderick’s guest and that is all you need know until such time as Roderick himself announces more.”

  At first glance Naomi found Frederick handsome. His thick auburn hair and bright blue eyes were not unlike…Roderick’s or hers for that matter.

  “What could that old goat possibly announce?” Frederick’s well-formed lips twisted into a sneer and his gaze slid over Naomi with sudden insolence. “Even if he bought himself a fertile field, he would need some seed to sow.”

  Naomi gasped, shocked by the insulting implication. Anger burned through her shock and her hand flew, connecting forcefully with his cheek.

  “You little bitch!”

  He grabbed for her but Naomi ducked under his arm. His hand caught her thick braid, through the fabric of her veil, and jerked her to a stop. She cried out, kicking wildly and clawing at his hand.

  Leon grabbed Frederick’s arm with both hands. “Release her, you fool, or you’ll find yourself—”

  The sharp cry of a bird cut short his threat. A falcon swooped out of the sky and dove directly toward Frederick’s face. The man gasped and stumbled backward, releasing Naomi’s hair in his haste to avoid the bird’s sharp talons.

  Frederick landed on his back in the dirt and Naomi kicked a rock at him. “Touch me again, you bastard, and I’ll have you publicly flogged! There is nothing licentious in my relationship with Lord Monthamn. I assure you he will not tolerate my abuse.”

  “You need not explain anything to the likes of him,” Leon insisted, pulling her firmly away from the prostrate man.

  She glanced suspiciously at the sky. Where had that bird come from? The attack had seemed intentional. Had Gabriel dispatched the bird to protect her in his stead? Nay, this seemed more like Gideon.

  “Did he hurt you?” Leon asked, falling into step beside her.

  Not trusting herself to speak, Naomi shook her head. For endless days she’d tried to accept that Gideon belonged to her past. Their short acquaintance shouldn’t have affected her so powerfully. So why did she ache for his touch and crave his infrequent smiles? One unexplained occurrence and the wound bled all over again. She wanted him, needed him—missed him terribly.

  Where was he? Was he well? A violent shiver shook her body. She prayed each day that he did not Fall.

  Leon stopped walking and turned her to face him. “Do not let Fredrick upset you. There is reason for his resentment. If I had not located you, he would have had some hope of claiming MonthamnCastle.”

  “Claiming?” she asked, focusing her attention on the issue at hand. “Who is this man?”

  Leon tucked her arm into the bend of his elbow and resumed their trek. “Frederick is the son of Roderick’s cousin. Until I found you, he was the only person left with blood ties to MonthamnCastle. Roderick had signed documents returning control of his holdings to the crown until I sent him word that you were still alive.”

  “Grandfather would return his holdings to the crown rather than allow them to pass to Frederick?”

  “Aye,” Leon said grimly. “He is a vile man, both cruel and corrupt.”

  “Then why does Grandfather allow him on Monthamn lands?”

  Leon patted her hand, his expression troubled. “What Roderick allows and what he can enforce are two different things. Frederick knows he’s not welcome here but Westerville is not far and Roderick seldom leaves the castle.”

  “Father John seemed at ease with him. Are they in league?”

  Leon chucked. “You are perceptive. Roderick has suspected such an alliance. Unfortunately, he has been unable to find anything specific to connect them.”

  “What will he do if
it comes to light that Father John is assisting Frederick?”

  “That is up to Roderick. I would imagine it would depend on the nature of the connection and the strength of his proof.”

  It was nearly nightfall by the time they returned to the castle. The main meal of the day had been served and cleared away long hours before.

  Kruthers explained that Roderick had gone to bed but it was his desire that plans progress without him.

  “What plans does he mean?” Naomi asked. Kruthers moved away without addressing her directly. Did the man not like women or had she somehow offended him?

  “Roderick has asked that I outline the scope of your responsibilities,” Leon said softly. The sadness had returned to his warm green eyes. “As you said yourself, there is much for you to learn. Roderick knows we’re running out of time. I cannot stay indefinitely and he is unsure how much longer he can hold on.”

  Fear and sadness gripped Naomi’s heart. She couldn’t lose him so soon! She’d only just found him. “Is he that ill?”

  Gently squeezing her hands, Leon nodded. “I must be honest, Naomi. He is dying.” Taking a deep breath, he seemed to force away the gloom. “He’ll not want us to mope. He has lived a long, full life and his last wish is that you be established and secure before he leaves the earth.”

  “May I take a few moments to attend to my needs before we begin?” Naomi asked.

  “Of course. Roderick has arranged for a waiting woman. Her name is Elspeth. She should be in your chambers. If she is not, have Kruthers find her.”

  Naomi found a young woman in her chamber working to unpack her clothing. Her long, strawberry blonde hair was simply braided, her head uncovered. She offered Naomi a friendly smile but did not speak.

  “Are you Elspeth?” Naomi asked.

  “Aye, milady.”

  A fresh ensemble lay across the bed and a battered kettle simmered near the fire. Elspeth appeared to know her duties well. She moved immediately to Naomi’s side.

  “Shall I help you change?”