by Nicole Locke
‘I can see you doubt it,’ Rhain said. ‘Let me prove it to you. Ask me a question.’
She’d be a fool to let this opportunity pass. She needed to return to Brynmor and the Traitor’s brother would give her answers that would allow her to do so. She’d never get such an offer from Teague. ‘Any question?’
‘Within reason, of course.’
Of course. ‘Is it true that prayers are six times a day? I don’t see anyone attending that often.’
‘Oh! I see you’ve been talking to my dear aunt.’ He offered her his arm. ‘Are you cold? Do you want to return?’
She was cold, but she didn’t want to be inside. She spent too much time inside, but she pointedly refused his arm when she grabbed her skirts. ‘I have to admit I am a little surprised at your choice of question given your present circumstances.’
Rhain began their walk around the bailey.
‘I am not a fool to ask you the flaws of Gwalchdu, or of Lord Teague’s reasons for keeping me prisoner here. I do not expect you to trust me, as I cannot trust you.’
Rhain’s lips curved, but his amber eyes dimmed and he nodded his head. ‘I see I will have to make some effort to win your trust.’
‘You will tell me about your aunt?’
Rhain continued their walk through the courtyard, but he didn’t offer her his arm again. ‘No one goes to prayer that often. Teague’s men pray at different times of the day so that there is always someone present. The arrangement keeps Ffion content.’
A contented Ffion was not possible to conjure up in Anwen’s mind. The Sister battled everything with anger, from the crushing of the herbs to her prodding of Anwen. ‘Has she always been so fervent?’
Rhain lifted his brow. ‘As in repeating God’s Commandments every day?’ He stopped for a moment. ‘No, she hasn’t always been like this. I was about ten when I left for Edward’s court. But since I’ve returned, I sense a bitterness in Ffion that wasn’t there before.’
Anwen knew about the bitterness, she also saw the times when Ffion tried to stop it. As if she tried to hide it. Especially when it came to her nephew.
‘She talks quite fondly of you,’ Anwen admitted reluctantly. ‘To her, you are the paragon of all that is good, while Lord Teague is not thought of quite so highly.’
Even she didn’t think she could hate Teague as much as Ffion did.
Rhain walked again. ‘I know. I think it is because Teague looks too much like our mother, Ffion’s sister. She loved Lady Elin. Her death must have brought her great pain.’
‘Is that why she became a Sister?’
‘I don’t know. She went to the Dominican Abbey close to London, which could not have sat well with her, although she was near me. She returned to Gwalchdu about the time I was earning my spurs. I suppose when she took the veil, she took on the black mood of it, as well.’ Rhain gave a slight shrug. ‘Teague tells me that before Mother died, Ffion was much admired, none more so than by the captain of my mother’s guard. There were many men like him. I suppose the attraction was her contrast to my mother. She liked to dance, laugh and plant in the garden. Our mother was more sombre, like Teague.’
Anwen couldn’t imagine the Sister dancing or laughing. She’d thought her questions to Rhain as something to distract her from Teague’s conversation, but, in fact, she found the subject fascinating.
‘I always got the impression something disturbing happened to her when I went warring with Teague.’ Rhain held his arm out to protect her from the stable boys walking nearby with three warhorses. ‘Since then, she seems agitated and it is getting worse. Greta’s been good to her. But then Greta’s been taking care of Ffion since before I was born.’
‘I can’t believe that. To look at Edith and Greta, you would think Edith is older.’
‘No, it is Greta. I think she’s always been old and as steadfast as an English oak. I often thought her simply part of Gwalchdu, made of the stone itself.’ Rhain chuckled. ‘I suppose it would take a stone’s strength to withstand my aunt, but there does seem to be some understanding between them.’ Rhain stopped walking. ‘Well, here we are.’
They had travelled the entire outer bailey and returned to the exact spot where they began. It would have been the perfect opportunity to find Gwalchdu’s weaknesses without being suspected, but she had been so immersed in Rhain’s story that she forgot to look at her surroundings.
‘Still looking for a way to escape?’ Rhain murmured.
It should have disturbed her that he could read her so clearly, but it didn’t. She didn’t trust Rhain, just as she didn’t trust the Traitor.
No matter how hard, she’d continue to look for an escape. There were lives at Brynmor she needed to protect. They had to be wondering where she was, maybe looking for her. She had to do whatever it took to return to them.
Chapter Nine
Teague heard the laughter before he saw its source, yet he knew it was Anwen. The sun was setting and torches were being lit. Despite the crisp and frosty air, it was the time of day that Rhain and Anwen had taken to walking around the courtyard.
For three days he’d been watching them. Whenever he’d privately question Rhain on their time together, his brother would give him a curious smile. If Rhain hadn’t been his kin, he might have put a sword through his gullet.
Anwen’s laughter carried on the afternoon breeze until it smacked somewhere in the region of his chest. He turned the corner and could see them. They stood close, almost arm in arm. Her waving blonde hair bound, but still curling like tips of flames around her delicate jaw and her blue eyes were the heat. He wanted to see her throat arch, her eyes beckon, her red lips swollen with his kisses. He wanted to know if she’d laugh in bed and what other sounds she’d make.
Rhain said something again and Anwen threw her head back and laughed, the sound full and rich. It reverberated through him until he wanted it for himself. Wanted her for himself. Before he knew it, his legs had taken him closer and their laughter stopped.
‘Weren’t you to meet with Peter?’
Rhain arched his eyebrows. ‘Ah yes, Peter must think our friendship means little to me since I keep forgetting our meetings.’ He bowed to Anwen and took his leave.
Anwen’s face lost all traces of laughter and even now her eyes cooled. Good, that was how it should be. He needed to keep her at a distance.
‘What do you do with my brother?’
* * *
His gaze was dark, forbidding and something like menace emanated from him. Anwen’s stomach fluttered, but not with fear, as she took in how Teague’s red tunic and grey breeches fit against his body. The colour of his tunic complemented his black hair and eyes, and his clothing enhanced him somehow in a way that disquieted her nerves. Irritated at herself for noticing his agreeable appearance, she focused on his crossed arms and his grim expression. But his annoyance didn’t hide his appeal. She was tied to him somehow and she resented it.
‘We talk, nothing more,’ she answered.
It was the truth, but she liked that Teague resented Rhain keeping her company. She had even less power here than at Brynmor. So she kept Rhain’s company, laughed and shared words if not trust. And she was aware, so very aware, of how Teague didn’t like it. Because all the time she spent with Rhain, she still looked for Teague. And there was something in that which she didn’t like.
‘See that it is nothing more or you will lose the privilege of the outer bailey.’
‘To be more a prisoner than I already am?’
‘You know what to do to end your stay,’ he said.
He talked of paying a debt, but hadn’t given her the courtesy of allowing her to pay it. He watched, but ignored her.
It was intolerable. She could not leave the walls she hated and now he threatened her with even more restrictions. She wouldn’t stand for
it.
‘To pay your debt as your astringer? When you haven’t even allowed me near your mews?’
‘Only when I’m satisfied with your intent will you get near my birds.’
His manners to her were formal, yet predatory. No, more than that...possessive. She was too aware how he watched her. How his dark eyes would darken more as they lingered on her. Worse still she continually heard the words he’d said that day as she stood in the tub. She began to fear she watched him, looked for him, for the same reasons. As if there was creance tethering them together.
Never.
‘You don’t want me as your astringer,’ she said, proud the venom in her voice was clear. ‘You want me to lie with you. That’s it, isn’t it?’
He looked taken aback for a moment before he hid it. Her words were blunt, crude, but she didn’t care. He wasn’t listening to any logic, so the reason he kept her here must be unreasonable. It must be lust. By his expression, she knew she was right. For her shocking words did not stop his gaze feeling like a caress across her skin.
She sensed the heat from his eyes, heat from his skin, even from his scent as he stood close. She felt desire from the Lord of Gwalchdu and worse, she feared she returned it.
As if she could lower herself any further. As if Brynmor and all her people hadn’t already lost so much...
‘That’s your intention. To force me to stay, to wear me down until in desperation, or perhaps fear, I spread my legs for you,’ she bit out. Men, and their vile treatment of women. She’d seen it often enough. Lord Urien’s battering use of women who were vulnerable and afraid of his rages. Alinore, who suffered his hateful words and fists.
Anwen felt no connection to this man. How could she? When Teague forced, just like Urien, when he held her prisoner so she couldn’t help those more vulnerable than her? She hated the Traitor. Hated him.
‘It’s why you came to my room while I laid helpless,’ she said. ‘Why you held my hand as if you had some right to do so and entered the chamber while I bathed. Why you don’t want me talking to your brother!’
‘You think this is simply lust?’ His eyes, cold, black, fathomless even as his mouth curved to a cynical slash. ‘You’re angry now. You were angry when you climbed that tree. But you forget it was you who demanded that I catch you. This is more than lust. You think I don’t notice your own actions towards me? You, who—’ Teague scanned the busy courtyard. Greta, her face marred with anxiousness, emerged from behind the chapel and walked within their path. ‘Perhaps this is not the time to converse.’
‘But you are the one who began this conversation! You’re the one playing these...games with no rules!’ She could sense him pause, measuring her, but she didn’t care. She was finished with waiting for him to come to some decision. ‘At least send word to Brynmor I’m here. They may have thought me dead! They may be outside the gates even now ready to take me home!’
‘No, there are no people. I cannot have more people here.’
Wrath lashed her insides. She didn’t understand this man, his possessive watching, his dominance, his belief he would be blindly obeyed. As if others hadn’t duties and fears for loved ones.
Would Melun still have his hands after losing Gully? When she returned, how many more bruises would Alinore have received?
Or would it be like that time on the stairs? When Urien struck Alinore and she toppled to the bottom. While Urien’s hands, like manacles, gripped Anwen’s arms. Helpless, all she could do was scream for her sister, who she thought dead.
She felt like that now. By imprisoning her, Teague manacled her entire body. When she needed to know if Melun or Alinore were harmed or dead. And this traitor who towered over her would not let her go!
‘Why are you doing this?’ she said, her voice rising, tightening. ‘You don’t need me here; just let me go. There are lives at stake!’
Whatever she was expecting from her plea, Teague’s reaction was not it. His features went white, then his sharp cheekbones mottled red. So, too, he seemed to grow before her, his shoulders widening, the cords in his neck and arms hardening. In an instant he had become as formidable as Gwalchdu’s stone itself, but alive and so very angry.
‘What did you just say?’
It appeared as if he would strike her. She raised her arms, but she’d be damned if she’d run. She’d been hit before and had survived. Alinore and Melun needed her and she wouldn’t run.
But the blow didn’t come. And she didn’t get to answer as both Rhain and Ffion intercepted them.
Teague tore his eyes from hers before turning his attention to his brother and aunt. His colouring was still heightened, but his eyes were now unreadable. Without looking at her, he ordered, ‘Return to my chambers and do not leave.’
She was being dismissed, but didn’t argue. She would get no leniency from Gwalchdu’s lord.
* * *
Rhain waited until Anwen was out of earshot. ‘There was another message.’
Teague motioned his head, and they walked away from the activity in the courtyard. ‘Say it again.’
‘A message. It was recent and, fortunately, not easily observed.’
‘Not easily observed. What do you mean?’ Teague felt raw from his conversation with Anwen. Incredulity flooded him so he couldn’t immediately understand what his brother was saying. When Anwen told him that lives were at stake, he’d been so sure in that moment she was the enemy. That the lives she spoke of were a threat.
But she couldn’t be his enemy, not if what Rhain was saying was true. Anwen had been with Rhain, with him.
He stilled and directed words to Ffion. ‘Tell me what happened.’
‘I found it, my lord,’ Ffion said, her voice strained. ‘It was most disturbing. I found Rhain immediately outside the chapel doors. If it wasn’t for his bravery, I wouldn’t have known what to do.’
Rhain gave her a sympathetic look. ‘The message was tied on the hind leg of a young rabbit slit at the neck. It was freshly killed.’
‘Where did all this take place?’
‘In the nave, my lord,’ Ffion said. ‘I believe I’m the only one who came across it.’
‘Except for the person who did the deed,’ Teague answered.
Rhain pulled a rolled message from his cloak. ‘The hand is the same. Nothing’s different. Except—’
Teague immediately read the contents. ‘Except for what it says.’ Ffion, who visibly shook, had obviously read the message. He addressed her. ‘You saw no one?’
‘I was in my personal chambers in the back of the chapel. I didn’t even hear anything. When I...saw it, I searched for Rhain immediately.’
‘You talked to no one else?’
‘No, I swear not.’ Ffion twisted her hands before her. ‘If I may, my lord, it seems that ill fate has fallen on Gwalchdu.’
‘Indeed.’
‘Then it seems that Anwen should be returned home.’
Anwen couldn’t now be the enemy, but that didn’t mean she didn’t know something. She’d shown him so much anger, so much hatred. Lives at stake. It was still possible she knew something. ‘Anwen is none of your concern, Sister. She stays under my care and you will speak to no one about this message.’
‘It seems you have grown overly fond of the wench, my lord,’ she said, as if she tasted something distasteful.
Rhain grabbed Ffion’s arm. ‘My dearest aunt, perhaps this is not the time to preach on morality. I am sure you are upset because of the disturbing sight. Why don’t you go and rest?’
Ffion pursed her lips before her eyes focused solely on Rhain. For a fraction of a second, she hesitated, then she patted his arm. ‘Of course.’ She glanced at Teague again. ‘Forgive me, my lord.’
Teague’s impatience increased, but he nodded his head. Ffion’s preaching was nothing new. ‘God’s
Word is with us always, Sister. We do not need to be oft reminded of it.’
‘I have never doubted God is watching you, my lord. I will go now and take rest before evening matins.’
Ffion’s black robes dusted the ground and sent soft whirls of dirt as she walked away.
‘Will she stay quiet?’ Teague asked.
‘I honestly don’t know. But most of the castle knows to look for those delivering messages.’
‘But they do not know the content.’ Teague studied the message in his hand.
Right the wrong or you make animals of us all.
‘What wrong has been committed?’
‘What wrong hasn’t?’ Rhain said. ‘Not to mention the sins of the past. Currently, you defy Edward by staying here instead of protecting his campaign in Scotland and you continue to build on Gwalchdu despite Edward needing the funds.’
‘I am a Marcher Lord and I’m well within my rights. It is all political posturing and hardly a reason to slaughter animals.’
‘I think the point is your neck is to be slit if you don’t correct a wrong that has been made.’ Rhain laughed drily. ‘I bet this is the only time in your life you’ve been compared to a leveret. Soft, warm, furry Teague of Gwalchdu. Doesn’t have the same ring as the Devil of Gwalchdu, does it?’
Teague slid him a scornful look at the ill humour. ‘The wrong could be my going to Edward.’
Rhain leaned a shoulder upon the inner bailey wall.
‘That was many years ago and anyone who knows of the situation wouldn’t question why you did it.’
‘But there are many who don’t know the reason.’
‘Anwen?’
‘Yes, her.’ Teague inhaled sharply. She could still know something and he needed caution when it came to her. Even if she had no association with these attacks, his feelings for her were out of his realm of understanding. ‘But there are others at Brynmor...’
