Fearsome Brides

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Bhrodi shook his head. “Not always,” he said seriously. “Not Henry. He is not a great man.”

  Jeniver’s head came up. “Bhrodi,” she admonished softly. “We do not speak so of the king. You have been listening to your father too much.”

  Bhrodi turned his innocent face to her. “But Papa does not like the king,” he said. “He will not fight for him. I heard him say so.”

  Jeniver sighed in exasperation. She didn’t want her young son growing up with such an attitude of rebellion towards the English crown. Even though she was Welsh, and Bhrodi was half-Welsh, rebellion, in her mind, only led to problems. It wasn’t that she had disagreed with her husband’s stance all of these years, for she supported him whatever he decided, but she didn’t want her son thinking it was normal and right to choose rebellion over obedience to a king.

  It was a difficult subject in the de Shera household, especially since Evesham. The wives, all of them, sincerely wished their husbands would simply swear fealty to a king that was now clearly in control of the country, but the de Shera brothers didn’t seem inclined to do it so the women kept their mouths shut, at least to their husbands. To each other, however, it was much different. There was fear in their manner every time they whispered words to each other, fearful for the men they loved, men who were trying to take a stand for what they believed in.

  It was a difficult situation, indeed.

  “Bhrodi,” Jeniver said as she set her sewing to the table. “You must understand that your father makes decisions he feels are right and true for all of us. That does not mean the king is a bad man. It simply means your father is trying to do the right thing for his family and for your legacy.”

  Bhrodi went to his mother, leaning against the table as she ran her fingers through his dark hair. “When I am the earl, I will not fight for Henry, either,” he said boldly.

  “You may not have a choice if you want to keep your lands.”

  Bhrodi frowned, puzzled by his mother’s attitude. It was different from his father’s. Jeniver watched her son’s expression as the child turned for Alessandria, who was watching the boy with some curiosity. He would be the Earl of Coventry someday and it was clear that he was a strong-willed child. That would serve him well when the time came, especially with the de Shera name. He would need that fortitude.

  “Were there great kings in the Bible?” he asked Alessandria. “Were there great warriors?”

  Alessandria nodded. “Indeed, there were,” she said. “There were many.”

  She was precluded from saying more as Tiberius and Maximus suddenly entered the keep and their respective children, seeing their fathers, began to squeal.

  The two little boys playing in front of the hearth made a run for Maximus, plowing into his groin area. He grunted in pain, picking up the children, as Tiberius made his way to his very pregnant wife and inquired about the location of her father. Douglass thought he might be in his chamber and Tiberius smiled sweetly at the woman, taking the toddler from her and then pulling her up to stand. He left the room with his wife and two children as Maximus went to see to his own wife, who had just managed to remove the sliver from the screaming two-year-old child. Maximus comforted the baby, the gruff brother turning soft in the presence of his children.

  Alessandria watched the interaction of her cousins with their families, hoping that she and Chad would one day be blessed with children. The past two weeks at Isenhall had been a lesson in family love and devotion; as fierce as the Lords of Thunder were, they were kind and gentle fathers. There was much family warmth within the old stone walls of the ancient fortress.

  Alessandria couldn’t help but hope for her own warmth someday as she watched the men with their wives, seeing the devotion between them all. To have Chad look at her the way Maximus was looking at Courtly, or the way Tiberius looked at Douglass, was almost more than she could hope for.

  “I suppose my husband will be coming in from the ward soon enough,” Jeniver said, breaking Alessandria from her thoughts. The woman stood up, collecting both her sewing and her son. “I will go now and see to the nooning meal. Thank you for entertaining my son today. He enjoyed your stories very much.”

  Alessandria smiled at Jeniver, at Bhrodi. “I enjoyed telling them,” she said, looking at the boy. “Tomorrow, I will tell you about Noah and the boat he built at God’s command. He put many animals on the boat to save them when God punished the evils of man.”

  That had Bhrodi’s interest. “I have a pony,” he said eagerly. “His name is Henry. My father named him that so that I could ride Henry and force him to my wishes.”

  Alessandria bit off a smile, seeing Jeniver shake her head reproachfully from the corner of her eye. “I am sure he is a very fine animal,” Alessandria said.

  “Would you like to see him?”

  “Indeed, I would.”

  “Later,” Jeniver said, steering her son away from Alessandria. “We have tasks to accomplish first.”

  Alessandria stood up. “May I help you, my lady?” she asked. “I would be more than happy to help you oversee the meal.”

  Jeniver smiled. “Of course you may,” she said. “I am always happy to have your company.”

  Pleased that she wouldn’t be left behind and bored without anything to do, Alessandria scurried after Jeniver and Bhrodi as they left the feasting room. She and Jeniver had become good friends, in fact, and she enjoyed the woman’s company. They were just to the entry door leading out into the ward when the door jerked open again on its heavy iron hinges, spilling forth Chad into the keep.

  A steady breeze blew in behind him and he struggled to shut the door, his gaze on Alessandria. He barely acknowledged Jeniver and Bhrodi before speaking to Alessandria. “My lady,” he addressed her. “I have a need to speak with you. Will you indulge me?”

  Alessandria nodded eagerly, excusing herself from Jeniver, as Chad took her arm and politely led her into the small vaulted feasting room that was just off the entry. Alessandria had become very familiar with that room, as they ate most of their meals there and it seemed to be the favorite gathering place in the keep for its warmth and intimacy.

  As Jeniver and Bhrodi went outside and shut the door, and Maximus was in the other room with his wife and children, Alessandria and Chad moved to a corner of the room where they would have more privacy. The stone walls were heavy here and three long, thin lancet windows were situated nearby, providing light and ventilation for the chamber. Certain that Maximus wasn’t anywhere close to see his movements, Chad took Alessandria’s hand in his own and brought it to his soft lips.

  “I have missed you today,” he murmured as he kissed her flesh. “How long has it been since I have last seen you?”

  Alessandria grinned, her heart fluttering wildly as he nibbled her fingers. “Not long,” she said. “You were with me when you were summoned to the gatehouse not a half-hour ago. Do you not recall?”

  He made a face. “We were surrounded by chaperones, as we always are.”

  She laughed softly. “They are simply protecting my virtue,” she said. “Evidently you are a devil that I need protecting from.”

  He grinned. “I would agree with that statement,” he replied. But soon, his expression softened. “I do not like being away from you, no matter if it is a few minutes or a few hours. Any time away from you is too long.”

  Alessandria flushed at his flattery. “I feel the same,” she said softly. “Did you finish your business at the gatehouse, then?”

  Chad’s warm expression faded; he couldn’t help it. “I did,” he said. “That is what I must speak to you about.”

  “Oh?” she cocked her head curiously. “What can it be?”

  He grew serious, caressing her hand as he thought of how he would approach the subject. He didn’t want to frighten her but she needed to know how serious the situation was. Something very bad was coming, a mighty storm of swords and men and loyalties. Chad was coming to think that she was so much better off in the convent; he
struggled not to let guilt consume him, yet again, for having brought her into this terrible situation.

  “When we were at Canterbury, you will recall that Henry sent men to take you,” he said quietly. “Did I ever mention the name of the knight in command?”

  Alessandria looked at him, curiously. “I do not believe so,” she said. “Why?”

  He lifted his eyebrows at the irony of that question. Why, indeed. “The knight in command is a man named de Serreaux,” he said. “I have known him for many years. We have fought side by side on occasion. In this instance at Canterbury, we were, briefly, on opposing sides because of you. I am not blaming you nor is this something you should feel badly about. It was simply the circumstances.”

  In spite of his words, Alessandria couldn’t help but feel somewhat guilty over that. “I understand,” she said. “But why do you mention him now?”

  Chad sighed heavily and kissed her hand once more before continuing. “Because, in spite of the incident at Canterbury, de Serreaux still seems to have some feelings of friendship or loyalty towards me,” he said. “I went to the gatehouse earlier because a missive had arrived for me. The messenger who delivered it was wearing Henry’s colors, so we all assumed it was Henry who had sent me the missive. It was not Henry, however; it turned out to be de Serreaux.”

  Her eyes widened. “The same man we fled from?” she asked. “Did your father tell him where you had taken me, then? He knows where I am?”

  Chad shook his head. “My father did not tell him, of that I am sure,” he replied. “Aless, it would not take a genius to determine where I had taken you. You are a de Shera; one could only assume I took you to be with your kin at Isenhall. De Serreaux is not a fool – he knew where we had gone.”

  Her fear grew. “And he is demanding that you turn me over to him?”

  Again, Chad shook his head. He could see she was growing distressed and he hastened to soothe her. “He is not,” he said quietly. “You were not part of the missive he sent to me. It would seem that Henry is coming to Isenhall, coming with an army no less, and de Serreaux sought to warn me.”

  Her mouth formed a shocked “O” and she put a hand over her lips as if to attempt to contain her astonishment. “Sweet Mary…,” she gasped. “Henry is coming for me!”

  Chad grasped her by both arms, gently but firmly. “This has nothing to do with you,” he stressed again. “Henry was out to seek vengeance against your cousins long before you came to his attention. Henry is coming to demand loyalty once and for all. That being said, it is imperative that you leave Isenhall. I do not want you in a castle under siege, so I plan to marry you today and send you along with the other de Shera women when de Moray takes them to his home of Ravendark Castle and to safety.”

  Alessandria was having difficulty processing what he was telling her. Henry was coming… I will marry you today… you will leave Isenhall before the army arrives… all of it was spinning around in her head, so much so that her knees gave way and she plopped onto the seat behind her, unable to stand any longer.

  War was coming. Henry was coming, and in spite of what Chad had told her, she knew he was only trying to make her feel better. Henry was coming for her and Chad was making it seem like he wasn’t.

  But she knew the truth. She didn’t understand enough about wars and politics to realize that she was the last thing on the king’s mind. To her, this entire situation started because Henry had wanted her as a hostage and Chad had prevented that. She was the cause of everything terrible happening to people she had come to love.

  Alessandria had never had a sense of family. A careless father, a foolish brother… that was all she had ever known, which was why the nuns at Newington had become her family. Then, she’d come to Isenhall with people who were kind to her, family who cared about her. She had Chad, too, a man who wanted to marry her. Such a wonderful sense of family, fulfilling her like nothing she’d ever known.

  And now, this.

  Henry wanted her, still, and he was going to tear down Isenhall to get to her. No matter what Chad said, she knew that was the truth. This was her fault, all of it.

  “I do not want to leave, Chad,” she said, feeling a lump in her throat as her emotions got the better of her. “Please do not make me leave.”

  He forced a smile, kissing her on the forehead. “It will only be for a short time,” he assured her. “I will go now to St. Mary’s in Coventry and make the arrangements for our wedding. Mayhap Jeniver or Courtly will let you borrow a lovely dress for the occasion. They are more your size.”

  He was trying to make light of the situation, to have her focus on the joy of their wedding rather than the impending arrival of Henry’s army. But Alessandria wouldn’t let him change the subject.

  “Chad, you must listen,” she insisted. “I know that Henry is coming for me. You need not pretend otherwise. It is only right that you should give me over to him right away. Mayhap then he will not attack Isenhall.”

  Chad frowned at her. “Sweetheart, I assure you that Henry is not coming for you,” he said. “He is coming because he wants Gallus and Maximus and Tiberius to swear fealty to him.”

  “That is what he wanted me for!”

  He shook her gently. “But he does not have you, nor shall he ever,” he said. “I do not know how much plainer I can make this – you are not at issue. This has nothing to do with you any longer.”

  He is only trying to spare me, Alessandria thought. She knew he was doing it to be kind and she didn’t believe one word of his denial. The entire reason behind her presence at Isenhall was to keep her from Henry. Now, the king knew where she was and he was coming for her. That made the most sense to her. She both loved and hated Chad for not being truthful with her, for trying to make it easy on her, but the thought of Henry coming to destroy this beautiful place of family and warmth was something she could hardly stomach.

  Jeniver… Courtly… Douglass… the children… they would know hardship and strife because of her, because Chad could not be honest and tell her why Henry was really coming. It was more than she could bear and the tears began to come.

  Chad saw the tears and he pulled her into his powerful embrace, holding her close, trying to comfort her. He was very sorry he had upset her but it was necessary that she know the truth of what was coming. He, too, was saddened to know that Henry would soon rattle a place he had come to see as a sanctuary, spending time with Alessandria, coming to know the woman who had a heart as big as the ocean.

  She was fun to taunt, and made an easy target with her guileless manner, but it was all in good fun. He loved her for it. She was also not beyond returning his taunts and, more than once, getting the better of him. He loved that about her, too. Lady du Bexley’s dinner had come up more than once over the past two weeks. They had been so happy here, now to see it all change drastically. It was heartbreaking.

  But he couldn’t give in to the sorrow of it. They had to make the best of it, to do what was necessary in order to survive. He let her cry a few moments longer in his arms before giving her a squeeze and releasing her. He wiped at the tears on her face as he spoke.

  “Everything will be well in the end, I promise,” he assured her. “I do not want you to worry overly about it. We will marry tonight and then you will go with de Moray and the other women on a short journey to Ravendark. I will come for you when I can.”

  So he was going to maintain that she had nothing to do with Henry’s approach. Alessandria was nearly mad with his denial.

  “Please, Chad,” she begged. “The king is coming. He will destroy Isenhall because you brought me here. I cannot let that happen.”

  He sighed heavily, shaking his head at her refusal to believe him. He had already told her the truth so he chose to push past the fact that she still believed Henry was coming for her. He couldn’t let her dwell on it.

  “Come along,” he said, taking her by the hand and pulling her from the chamber. “We shall find Jeniver and ask her to provide you with a lovely
garment for our wedding. I should like to have it tonight, at sunset. We can return to Isenhall afterwards and you can pack for your journey to Ravendark. I’ve never been there, actually, but I hear it is a very big place. And de Moray’s wife raises goats, so you will have your fill of cute little animals and children.”

  Distraught, Alessandria allowed him to pull her along but the entire time she was planning her escape. She wasn’t going to let Henry raze Isenhall all because of her. Everything had been fine before she had come. Perhaps if she left, everything would be fine again. She loved these people, and this life, enough to make that sacrifice.

  And Chad… he would go into battle because of her. She couldn’t stand the thought of losing the man she had come to love very much. All of the dreams of hope and love she’d had were only that – dreams. Perhaps they were never meant to be. It had been happiness she had never expected, a vision of heaven unlike anything she’d ever known. But like most dreams, they were not meant to last. This dream was over before it truly got started, but at least she’d had a taste of it. That would have to sustain her for the rest of her life because if Henry wanted her, then he could have her if it would only spare Chad’s life.

  She couldn’t let this all end because of her.

  She couldn’t let Chad end.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Just outside of Northampton, England

  Tomorrow, they would be upon Isenhall.

  As Davyss de Winter sat in his tent with his brother, contemplating what tomorrow would bring, all he could think of was the fact that tomorrow would see them at the walls of Isenhall. Those dark-stoned walls of that oddly-shaped, rounded fortress had a very special place in his heart, for he remembered the days of his youth when he would play within those walls, running and chasing Gallus and Maximus, laughing at Tiberius because he was younger and unable to keep up with the bigger boys. Hugh, his own brother, was even younger than Tiberius and would run after the big boys, wailing because they didn’t want to play with him. Aye, he remembered those days well.