In Debt to the Enemy Lord

by Nicole Locke

  Gwalchdu’s Great Hall’s opulence, though it was expected, overwhelmed her. To be sure, she knew Edward and the Welsh Prince, Llewellyn, had visited Gwalchdu, but this Hall even outdid royalty’s comfort.

  Several large hunting tapestries covered the walls. Where there were no tapestries, thick opulent red-and-green-coloured linens hung and shimmered against the light. Standing candelabras and large sconces provided flickering light. Two fireplaces, of different sizes and opposite each other, brought warmth and ornamentation to the hall. In the middle, three long trestles were flanked by equally long benches. These trestles were intersected by another, which should have been placed on a dais to separate the lord from his soldiers, but it wasn’t. It was level, indicating equality between the lord and his men. The sole indication of privilege at the high table was the ornate cushioned chairs and the huge fireplace behind the table. Both were used to provide the lord the greater heat and comfort.

  At the other end of the hall was a smaller fireplace, and two large padded chairs occupied by men whose hair reflected dark and light in the firelight. Anwen strode forward.

  Teague heard her first and stood, and Rhain rose after him. The setting sun filtering through the windows was weak, but the lights from the fires shone through her damp unbound tresses that curled like a halo of gold. As she walked, the white of her gown flowed angel-like around her small frame.

  ‘My God.’

  ‘What say you?’ Teague’s eyes did not leave Anwen.

  ‘I thought you mad for bringing her here.’ Rhain spoke low, his eyes riveted on the vision walking towards them. ‘But now that I see her like this, as you must have seen her at first, I believe you the sanest man alive.’

  With shuttered eyes, Anwen paused before them. She was still unwell. Her hands trembled and the pallor of her skin shone with exertion just from the small walk.

  She had wide blue eyes, with eyelashes so pale they should have been unnoticeable, but instead, the golden colour made her eyes shine. Shine? He quickly rejected the frivolous thought.

  ‘You came,’ he said, his voice gruff.

  ‘As you commanded,’ she answered.

  Teague looked much changed from when she had seen him earlier. Freshly washed, his hair was wet, and he was finely clothed in a dark blue tunic. The aesthetic affect was almost as unnerving as him standing bare-chested before her. Damp, his hair waved thickly and the tunic fitted his shoulders and skimmed over his chest and abdomen. He was covered, but it did little to hide what was beneath.

  ‘Do you always follow commands?’ he asked.

  ‘If they are not unfair.’ Anwen would not curb her tongue.

  Rhain coughed. ‘It is good you have fared well.’

  Anwen assessed the two men in front of her. From their colourings to their personalities, the contrast between them was stark. Both men were tall and their muscles were outlined even in their clothing, but there the similarities ended. Teague was dark from his hair to his eyes to his countenance. He looked every bit the devil, hewn from far below the earth’s surface. Rhain, his golden handsomeness elegantly garbed in rich red fabrics, was powerfully built, but he was leaner and more graceful looking. He looked hewn from the sun’s light, as if God himself had created a man-angel.

  Anwen gave Rhain her most winning smile. She noticed out of the corner of her eye that Teague’s frown deepened, but she paid him little heed. If he was an angel, perhaps she could appeal to Rhian’s mercy. She would press any advantage he could give her. She must.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘My headaches seem to be gone now and I have most of my strength. I fear I would not have fared so well had you not taken great care of me.’

  Rhain returned her smile and gave a slight nod. ‘I am glad, despite my desire for you not to be hurt at all. Would you care to sit?’ Rhain indicated the chair he had been occupying.

  She was weak, but sitting would increase the position of power Teague held over her. Still, she appreciated kindness, since she so rarely received it, so she gave him another smile.

  ‘Rhain, Peter needs you in the stables,’ Teague said.

  The lord’s brother’s friendly face turned implacable as he gave her a nod. ‘Of course, how discourteous of me to forget. If you’ll excuse me?’

  It was the mischievous twinkle in Rhain’s eye, before he turned away, that worried Anwen more than Teague’s frown. It was as if he knew a secret. But what? Teague had ordered him away. Demanded again as he was wont to do.

  To be alone with her.

  Whatever advantage she hoped to have with Rhain was gone. Only now it was replaced with an acute awareness of how alone she was with the Traitor.

  His previous words still vibrated through her. In the bedchamber, had she revealed her body’s treacherous response to him? She was dressed this time and prepared. Whatever happened then wouldn’t happen to her again.

  But Teague didn’t speak and it still didn’t matter. Something of his silence vibrated through her, too. She listened to Rhain’s every step as he walked towards the Hall’s doors, and every thump of her heart in her chest sounding like that of a captured bird. Then there was a creak of the door, a gust of unsympathetic wind brushing against her limbs and more of Teague’s watchful silence.

  She didn’t want to sit, but her legs were weakening.

  ‘Are you well enough to answer some questions?’

  Ah, yes, he was too watchful. But her stubbornness and strength had been honed by men who flaunted their power and control over those who were weaker. How many times had she protected herself and Alinore against Urien’s fists?

  She might feel no anger from Teague now, but she felt his power, as she had since the first time she saw him. And somewhere deep in his silence and scrutiny she felt an insidious connection between them like a creance she’d snared herself on.

  It didn’t matter if it had started when he caught her under the tree, or comforted her in the night. It would end as soon as she returned to Brynmor. In the meantime, if her legs were weak and her head hurt, she merely needed to hurry along this encounter with the Traitor. ‘Whether I answer yours depends on whether my question is answered.’

  Teague’s eyes narrowed on hers, but then he waved to the servants, who brought two flagons of wine and some fruit and bread and set them on the table between the chairs. ‘Before we get to the questions, perhaps we should have some repast.’

  Anwen did not take her eyes from the man who knew she wanted to rush this discussion. He understood it so fully, he was forcing her to wait.

  Still, the food and repast gave her a reason to sit where he indicated, so she did. The plush chair immediately supported her just when her body needed it.

  Now she wouldn’t worry about fainting. She merely had to tolerate his scrutiny and match it with her own. Prepared, she wouldn’t respond to him as she had standing naked before him. But when he took the opposite seat...something changed.

  It was the deft way he picked up a green apple and cradled the ripe fruit in his sure hand. It was the way he bit into it and the way his eyes didn’t leave hers as she watched the cords of his throat when he swallowed.

  Her eyes went to his again. There was a different gleam there now. One which made her aware of the intimacy of them sharing a fire, a meal and a private conversation. His sudden predatory manner reminded her of their exchange upstairs. Despite her garments, despite the strength sitting gave her, she felt naked, exposed. Vulnerable. It was enough to shake her.

  ‘Why am I a prisoner?’ she asked.

  ‘Is that what you think you are...a prisoner?’ Teague bit into the apple again. This time she was prepared for whatever strange reaction she experienced before. Prepared, but no less affected. He was merely eating, but the way he did it... The smooth bite of his teeth, the sound of the crisp apple. The way he cradled the fruit.

 
; She felt more like a prisoner than when she was locked in the room. Yet nothing kept her here except for his presence and the way she reacted to him.

  ‘You’re no prisoner. I merely provided a guard to give you some protection. Do you believe you have committed a wrongdoing to justify imprisonment?’

  ‘How could I commit a wrongdoing when I was asleep for days?’

  Teague tossed the apple into the fire, but her eyes remained on him, so she saw the smug curve of his lips as he continued. ‘Perhaps it is what you were doing before you fell that we should be discussing.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Her actions prior to her injury were none of his concern. If he didn’t want people to come to his village, then he shouldn’t have stolen the best tanner in the region.

  ‘You are from Brynmor,’ he said.

  Anwen just managed to hide her surprise. ‘Yes, it is my birthplace.’ So it wasn’t the tanner but her home that concerned him.

  ‘So you admit to living in a Welsh minor prince’s home?’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean. There have been no Welsh princes since Edward’s wars. We are all English now.’

  ‘But you do admit Brynmor was at one point an enemy manor?’ he pressed.

  ‘I believe that is a matter of perspective. Your home could just as easily be termed an enemy castle.’

  ‘Are we enemies?’ He stood and clasped his hands behind his back. He did it so suddenly, so restlessly, the move surprised her.

  Anwen stood along with him, moved away from the chair, the repast and the warmth of the fire. She wasn’t fooled by his friendly tone; she knew a trap was being laid. ‘King Edward has declared we are not.’

  ‘Then what were you doing in Dameg Forest so close to Gwalchdu?’ Teague began circling her.

  She felt like a hawk’s prey and had a sudden instinct to move her head to follow him. Instead she stared straight ahead when she answered. ‘My home is near yours and Dameg Forest. If we are not enemies, then there is no wrong in being in the forest.’

  ‘You know Alinore, Lord Urien’s daughter?’

  ‘I am well acquainted with her.’

  ‘And Robert?’

  ‘One would hardly live at Brynmor without knowing its English-appointed Governor,’ she answered through the tightness in her throat.

  ‘What is your position at Brynmor?’ he asked.

  It was the question she dreaded. Her positions were many at Brynmor, and all of them would give anyone cause to question her veracity. It would hardly do to tell him the truth of who she was at Brynmor: bastard-born and unwanted. That Alinore was her half-sister and Lord Urien her father. But she could not avoid the question, so she chose one of her occupations.

  ‘I am an astringer,’ she answered.

  Teague stopped in front of her. ‘An astringer?’

  She hated that incredulous smug tone. She was good as an astringer and people needed her. ‘I work with hawks.’

  ‘It’s an unusual occupation for a woman,’ he persisted.

  ‘Any occupation is unusual for a woman, but that is what I do,’ she said.

  ‘There are other occupations that women do that are not quite so...unique.’

  ‘How like a man to think bearing children is a woman’s only occupation,’ she retorted.

  ‘It wasn’t the bearing of children I had in mind.’

  Anwen’s face heated. She should have known he would turn their conversation to appeal to his lust. But whatever purpose he had in embarrassing her shouldn’t matter. Her entire desire was to return to Brynmor and be done with the conversation.

  ‘These are not questions I can provide answers to,’ she retorted. ‘You talk this way to embarrass me and I’ve little knowledge or care as to why. All I know is I am held here against my will and given no courtesy as to the reasons.’ She wasn’t worried about fainting or weakness or her head aching. Anger and frustration kept her strong now. ‘You’ve now asked your questions, and I want mine answered. Can I go free?’

  Further scrutiny, more feelings of vulnerability that angered her until he said, ‘You are free...to walk around. You may not, however, leave Gwalchdu.’

  ‘You can’t keep me here!’

  ‘I can,’ he said. ‘You see, I am in need of an astringer. I find you being here very convenient.’

  Dark eyes stared at her intently, waiting for her to display weakness. She knew better than to show any vulnerability. ‘I am not a very good one.’

  ‘Not a very good one is better than none at all.’

  Here was another trap, one where she’d have to tell the truth. ‘But I lost a bird in Dameg Forest. You would not want an astringer who loses birds.’

  ‘You were training a bird this late in the season?’

  His doubt stung her pride. It was late to be training Gully, but he’d hurt his wing early on. It was the only reason she travelled to Gwalchdu’s village, to purchase better jesses. Yet, telling the Devil of Gwalchdu that she could, in fact, train birds late would defeat her purpose, so she shrugged. ‘You now know the futility of keeping me for your own birds. You should let me go.’

  ‘Losing a bird is serious,’ Teague said. ‘Is this the reason you request to leave Gwalchdu?’

  He didn’t exactly answer her questions, so she wouldn’t exactly answer his. ‘All hunting birds have some worth. This one has some consequence to persons at Brynmor if I don’t find and return it.’

  ‘What certain persons?’

  ‘The falconer,’ she said, which was all he needed to know.

  ‘A falconer is of little worth.’

  Only a man who cared for no one could say such a thing. Melun was everything to her. The man had taken her in, cared for her and was like a father to her. She had to return to Brynmor, but she could feel any advantage she hoped to obtain slipping away.

  He spoke again. ‘But it matters not. Your obligations are now here.’

  ‘I told you I was no use to you and I have no obligations here.’

  ‘There you are wrong,’ he said. ‘You do. You have a debt to pay. You owe me your life.’

  Chapter Seven

  ‘A debt, hmmm?’ Rhain murmured after Teague recounted his conversation with Anwen. Despite the weight of their discussion, it hadn’t taken long. It also hadn’t taken long for Rhain to return to the Hall. In fact, Teague suspected his brother had been waiting and watching, for he arrived just as Teague glimpsed the last of Anwen’s white gown trailing behind her when she ascended the stairs.

  Teague sat and stretched his legs in front of him. ‘It seemed efficient.’

  ‘Not as efficient as simply tying and torturing her.’

  ‘True, but she is still in a weakened state.’

  ‘Ah, so it is your concern keeping her here against her will.’ Rhain walked to the table and poured wine for them both. ‘Maybe there is some good in you yet.’

  Teague drank deeply and kept silent.

  ‘Of course, the most efficient way would have been to simply tell her the truth.’ Rhain shifted his stance and leaned against the stone wall heated by the fire’s flames. ‘For instance, you could have told her there are threats against your life and you believe she is connected.’

  ‘So she could tell me the lies she concocted? No, we’ll see what she does in her stay here, follow her around and when the line is long enough, I’ll tighten the creance.’

  ‘Have we established she is a liar so soon?’

  Teague remembered her direct gaze despite the way she’d trembled. She was no coward. But he was certain she was hiding something. ‘I do not have time to give her the chance.’

  ‘You are usually not so quick to judge.’

  Teague grabbed a handful of nuts. ‘These are unusual times.’

  ‘Why did you not m
ention the bird?’ Rhain asked. ‘She was most concerned for returning it.’

  ‘Yes, but to where and to whom? To Brynmor only?’ Teague’s voice was laced with only a fraction of the impatience he felt. ‘Do we truly know if she is the falconer’s assistant? In his missive, Robert did not mention her station at Brynmor. Maybe she is an astringer, but then she could have been training the bird to relay messages. I find it most curious that she is a woman who works with birds. What lord would allow such a thing?’

  ‘We know Urien’s barely able to hold his precious Brynmor together.’ Rhain swirled his wine. ‘Perhaps it is not so strange. Robert is in charge and we know him to be lenient. Maybe it is the truth. Maybe she has pride in what she does, despite saying she wasn’t any good.’ Rhain shrugged, and took a drink. ‘Interesting woman, wouldn’t you say?’

  Tired of his brother’s attitude, Teague inspected each nut he ate. People were not always good. Betrayal could come when and where one least expect it. ‘She is still not telling all. I know it.’

  ‘There have been no messages, Teague, and it has been weeks. Perhaps they were simply the idle threats of a bored man.’

  Teague brushed his hands against his legs. ‘No, I know this is not over.’

  ‘It is not the woman.’

  ‘Perhaps.’

  Rhain sighed and pushed off the wall. ‘You know I am speaking the truth. You have hurt her somehow, which is the reason she lashes out at you.’

  ‘And you have softened too much to a stranger.’

  Rhain’s set his cup down. ‘I don’t think it is I who has softened. I see how you watch her, and I know where you go at night.’

  Teague shrugged. He owed Rhain no answers.

  ‘I have no doubt Anwen would be lovely to warm a bed at night. But as lovely as she is, we do not know her purpose. I do not believe she is the enemy, but I am concerned your thoughts are turned too far towards her and it takes your attention away from the real danger.’