Gorawen sent the woman an angry look, then said to her lord, “They would have come back by now. I think Junia may have just been going to tell this boy good-bye. She has always been obedient. But of course, she is in love, and young girls in love are apt to behave foolishly.”
“Brynn must have either known of her plan to go, or seen her go, and followed her,” Argel reasoned.
“Then why is he not back?” Ysbail wanted to know.
“Because he tried to protect his sister,” Gorawen responded.
“From what?” Ysbail said.
“From whatever threatened her, and it must have been a terrible threat else he would have come home and told us,” Gorawen said softly.
“The de Bohuns?” Argel paled. “Oh, God! Have they killed my son?” She began to weep wildly and tear at her hair.
“Nay, nay!” Gorawen quickly answered her. “Brynn is far more valuable as a hostage. The de Bohuns have always preferred money to anything else, Argel. Brynn will be safe. I am certain of it. It is Junia for whom we must fear. If this boy pursued his relationship with her in order to entrap her she is in far greater danger than Brynn.”
“Aii!” Ysbail wailed again. “Now who will have the bitch to wife? She has ruined herself in spite of all our warnings!”
“Be silent!” Argel snapped, recovering herself. “Do you think our revenge on the de Bohuns will be any less because Junia is a girl?”
“But if she has been despoiled, what bounty will restore her honor?” Ysbail cried. “No man of good lineage and property will have such a wife.”
“Let us not get ahead of ourselves,” Gorawen spoke up again. Her palm was itching to slap Ysbail whose care was more for herself than for her daughter. “The de Bohuns may not have them at all. They may have escaped any trap and are just hiding, waiting for our good lord to come to their rescue.” But in her heart Gorawen was far more concerned than she showed.
“My lord, the men are ready,” the captain said as he entered the hall.
“Where are you going?” Argel asked her husband.
“To Mryddin Water,” he replied. “If there was an ambush and attempted kidnapping of our children, and they did escape, they will surely be glad we have come to bring them home.” He did not address the possibility that his only son and his youngest daughter had actually been kidnapped and might at this very minute be in de Bohun hands. Turning, he followed his captain from the hall.
Ysbail sat down and began to cry.
“Do you weep for your daughter or for yourself, Ysbail?” Argel said cruelly.
“You are a wife. You hold a position of esteem,” Ysbail said bleakly. “A good match for my daughter was the one chance I had of living a comfortable old age.”
“Our lord Merin will take care of you. He loves us all,” Gorawen said softly.
“He loves you,” Ysbail said. “He respects Argel as his wife. He took me to get a son upon, and I failed him, birthing another daughter instead. He has no use for me, nor would he be sorry to see me go.”
“You do our lord a disservice,” Argel replied. “Your daughter is his daughter. Junia shares blood with both you and her father, with my children and Gorawen’s daughter. For that he will always regard you with kindness. You have never suffered in this house, or been in any sort of disfavor, Ysbail. Each of us, you, Gorawen, and I have our place in Merin Pendragon’s heart. If Gorawen holds a larger portion of our lord’s heart, I am not dissatisfied, for Merin has been a good husband to me, and a good lord to you and Gorawen. Why should you carp and cry? For now, our main concern is the safety of our children. My son, and your daughter. Their return home is all I pray for, Ysbail. So should you instead of feeling sorry for yourself.”
“But what if my daughter has been debauched?” Ysbail said unhappily.
“Then we shall see her wed to the de Bohun boy before we kill him,” Gorawen answered her. “We cannot allow such an insult to go unavenged. The marriage restores Junia’s honor. His death restores ours. As a widow Junia would be eminently marriageable, Ysbail. And she will have her full dower as well.”
“I had not thought of that,” Ysbail said. “It is not as bad as I thought.”
“It seldom is,” Argel murmured. “Let us to table, ladies. The supper grows cold as we stand here gossiping.”
The three women sat themselves at the high board, and ate the pottage of rabbit with onions and carrots, along with the rest of the day’s bread with butter and cheese. Afterwards Ysbail excused herself, and hurried off to her own chamber. Argel and Gorawen were relieved. It was not easy being with Ysbail.
“Do you think the children will be found safe?” Argel wondered aloud.
“Nay,” Gorawen said frankly. “They departed this morning long before the noon hour. If they escaped a de Bohun ambush they would have been home long since. They have been taken, I fear, and we must prepare to expect the worst for poor Junia. Unharmed, Brynn will bring a goodly ransom, and the de Bohun lord knows it. He is unlikely to harm the boy, but to dishonor Junia gives de Bohun an excellent opportunity for retribution against the Pendragons. This feud should have been settled long ago. Now it must be ended, for as long as the de Bohuns go on believing that they were somehow insulted those hundred some odd years ago, neither our children nor theirs can be safe.”
“The feud had been quiet until Junia met the de Bohun boy,” Argel said. “What an unfortunate happenstance.”
“She says she is certain he did not know as she did not know, but I cannot believe it. I think he met her, told his father, and together they planned this mischief,” Gorawen answered. “Poor Junia! He is her first love. Would that he might have been her last.”
“But what if he is innocent of duplicity?” Argel asked. “If we wed them then we might end this foolishness for good and all. I say slay his father but leave the boy alive. It is only simple justice that a Pendragon daughter wed a de Bohun after all these years, and then live happily ever after.”
Gorawen smiled. “It is possible, I suppose. That decision must be up to our good lord. He will know what the right thing is to do.”
“He will know if we tell him,” Argel said with a wicked smile, and Gorawen laughed. “We could both tell him,” Argel considered, and Gorawen smiled at her friend.
“I know that Merin needed to go out tonight, and find out what he could, but I wonder what he can learn on a moonless night, even with torches lighting his way,” Gorawen responded thoughtfully. “It is not an easy ride to Mryddin Water.”
The object of her conversation was discovering that a hard trail to follow in the daylight was near impossible to find at night. Merin Pendragon and his men moved carefully, and far too slowly to suit the Dragon Lord, but there was no other choice. The trail they followed was winding and steep. In many places it was so narrow that it was hard to traverse it, but they moved onward toward Mryddin Water. Finally, after almost two hours riding they saw the clearing ahead of them.
Merin Pendragon silently signaled his men to stop. “I would go in on foot as to not disturb any evidence of what has happened here this day. Come with me to the edge of the wood, and then let me go forth with my torch.”
“I would go with you, my lord,” his captain said.
“Very well, but follow in my footsteps, Ivor,” the Dragon Lord said.
The two men moved into the sandy clearing, one directly behind the other. The evidence of a large party of men and horses was obvious. Torches held high, they saw the smaller footprints of a boy, and recognized Brynn’s shoe, for the heel of his left boot was always worn down more on the right side. And then they saw it. A deep imprint in the sand of a girl’s body, arms and legs spread, the knee-prints of her captors on either side. The knee-prints of her violator between her legs.
“Jesu!” Merin Pendragon swore. “Here? Before all?” And just how many, he wondered silently, had raped his innocent daughter? Lord de Bohun would pay dearly for this brutality. And Brynn had undoubtedly seen it all.
�
�My lord!” His captain’s voice was shaking as he spoke the two words.
“We will return to Dragon’s Lair now,” the Dragon Lord said. “There is nothing further we can do tonight, Ivor. But tomorrow is another thing. Do not tell the others of what we have seen. I just mean to say that my children were taken by de Bohun and his ilk. I will destroy him and his son. I will burn Agramant to ashes for what has happened to my daughter. A hundred-year-old falling-out between our families is no excuse for what obviously took place here this day.” Then Merin Pendragon turned and walked back to the woods with Ivor behind him. Mounting his horse, he signaled their return home.
After several hours more, with their torches flickering low, they reached the keep of the Pendragons. The lord of the castle dismounted, and going inside first sought out Ysbail, telling her that both children had obviously been taken hostage, and that on the morrow negotiations for their return would begin. Ysbail nodded, but she was no fool, and knew he was leaving out much. Still, she did not press him, for he was obviously both tired and angry.
The Dragon Lord found his wife and favored concubine seated together by the hearth in the hall, sewing. They looked up simultaneously at the sound of his footsteps, their single look questioning. “They’ve been taken,” Merin Pendragon began.
Gorawen rose quickly and fetched her lord a large goblet of wine. Then she sat back down again, and waited for what he had to say.
“It’s de Bohun, without a doubt. Brynn was there. That damned left heel of his was obvious in the sand of the clearing by Mryddin Water.”
“And Junia?” Argel asked. She was no longer fearful for her son. He would be ransomed, and she had no doubt it would cost the Pendragons a pretty penny.
“There, too,” Merin said tersely, and his jaw tightened with his memory.
“What else did you see?” Gorawen probed. “Was she ra—”
“Aye! And ask me no more, woman! And neither of you is to tell Ysbail. I have told her they were taken, but nothing else. If she begins to howl and whine at me I shall kill her, I swear it! Right there, the devil! In a circle of boots, and how many I do not know! I shall wipe the de Bohuns off the face of the earth for this cruelty. As God is my witness, I will destroy them and theirs! I shall leave not a stone of their castle unbroken or not burned to avenge my innocent daughter.”
“First we wed her to the de Bohun boy,” Argel said. “Her honor must be restored so we may find her a good husband afterwards. A respectable widow with her dower portion still intact.”
“I cannot think on such a plan right now,” the Dragon Lord admitted. “My blood lust is too great. I will follow the example of my ancestor before me, and castrate the son before his father. Then I will chop off the father’s manhood and balls myself. The de Bohuns of Agramant are finished!” He drank the contents of his goblet in several deep swallows, and slammed the vessel down on the arm of his chair.
Both women jumped, startled. Neither had ever seen Merin Pendragon so angry. They looked at one another questioningly.
“My good lord, you are justifiably upset,” Argel said. “Come to bed, now. I fear you will burst if you cannot calm yourself.”
Reaching out he took her hand in his, and raising it to his lips kissed it, giving her a small smile as he did so. “Go to your bed, Argel,” he said. “I will come eventually.”
The lady of Dragon’s Lair arose, and curtsied to her husband. She knew he would take Gorawen to his bed, for Gorawen was better able to defuse his anger. When he was calmed once again he would leave the woman he loved, and come to his wife to comfort her. Why do I feel no resentment over that? Argel asked herself. But she didn’t, and she never had. Perhaps because Merin respected her position as his wife, and treated her with kindness. Perhaps because Gorawen never attempted to overstep her own position in their lives because she loved their shared lord deeply. As do I, Argel thought. And that is why we are such good friends. She moved quietly from the hall to find her own chamber.
When she had gone Gorawen arose and held out her hand to Merin Pendragon. “Come, my lord. Argel is right. You need to calm yourself. If you do not you will not think clearly.” She took him by the hand and led him from the hall to her chamber. There she disrobed herself, and Merin. She brought him more wine, taking a goblet for herself as well. Then together they entered her bed. “Shall I offer you comfort, my lord?” she asked him softly, but he shook his head at her.
“I could not,” he answered her. “Not after what I have seen tonight, Gorawen.”
“Tell me what you would not tell the others,” she coaxed him gently, a skilled hand massaging the back of his thick neck. “You cannot keep it bottled within you like an evil fairy, my lord. What did you see at Mryddin Water?”
He groaned. It was a sound of deep pain. “A ring of boots in the sand surrounding the deep imprint of my daughter’s body. Men knelt by her four limbs, spreading them wide, forcing her to submit. And between her legs the mark of more knees denting the soft ground. I know not how many men knelt there violating Junia!” He swallowed down his wine, setting the cup aside, his head falling onto his chest as he sobbed with his grief.
Gorawen took him into her arms and let him weep. When the sounds of his sorrow began to ease she said to him, “I want you to think back on that scene, Merin.”
“I cannot!” he cried, anguished.
“You must!” she insisted. “Do you see footprints anywhere within the circle moving into it, Merin? Think, my lord. Think!”
He was silent for a long moment, and then he answered her, “Nay. I see only the marks of the circle. Wait! One set of footprints behind the knee marks.”
“Nothing else?” she pressed him.
“Nay,” he said slowly, and then more forcefully, “Nay!”
“Then in all likelihood Junia’s violation was by but one man,” Gorawen told her lord. “Let that be of some small comfort to you.”
“It is so?” he asked, grasping at her words as a drowning man grasps at a straw.
“If there were no footprints of men moving in and out of the circle then there was only one man to do the deed, my lord. Not that it is any less abhorrent, but it was probably the boy who violated her. His father has a foul reputation, as you know. I am sorry the boy takes after him.”
“I will kill him!” Merin Pendragon said again.
“Of course you will, my lord, but not until after we have seen them wed. It will be far easier to find a suitable husband for Junia if she is a widow with her full dower portion than if she is the victim, however innocent, of a cruel assault,” Gorawen reasoned. “But, my dear lord, you cannot punish the de Bohuns without help. You must call upon Lord Mortimer for aid.”
“You would make this matter public?” he said, outraged.
“Lord Mortimer can be convinced to remain silent if he knows the truth of the matter. He is an honorable man, Merin, and he can accomplish what you cannot,” Gorawen told him.
“What?” the Dragon Lord demanded of Gorawen.
“He can get into Agramant without a fight,” she replied. “The most important thing in all of this is to ransom Junia and Brynn so we may gain their safe return. Lord Mortimer can negotiate for you, Merin. Once we have your son and daughter back in our custody, then, my lord, you can attack Agramant. It will be a difficult siege, Merin. You do not want the children caught in it else de Bohun kill them out of spite.”
He thought for several long moments during which time she continued to massage his neck. Finally he said, “Aye, lovey, you are right! But will de Bohun believe that all I want is my son and daughter?”
“Of course he will,” she replied with a small chuckle. “He will believe you the weakling for sending Lord Mortimer to parlay with him instead of coming yourself. He will consider the ransom he wants, and be greedy. We will give him what he wants, for when Agramant falls you will retrieve it. First and foremost we want Brynn and Junia safe home,” Gorawen concluded.
“But it will take several days to get to
Mortimer, and convince him to agree. What if he will not help me?” the Dragon Lord said.
“He will give you aid. Lord Mortimer is a vain man, and to have you pleading for his help will be most flattering. He bears you no ill will, Merin, and he will be shocked to learn of what the de Bohuns have done,” Gorawen responded.
“But to have to leave my son and my daughter, especially Junia, in their hands for any longer than necessary,” the Dragon Lord answered her, “breaks my heart.”
“The damage is already done, my lord,” Gorawen said sensibly. “Nothing will change by it taking longer to gain their release. Besides, you cannot successfully besiege Agramant. It is too well fortified. We must get Brynn and Junia back, and then gain custody of the de Bohuns, pere et fil, by means of some clever ruse.”
“You are the cleverest of women, Gorawen,” he told her admiringly. “I am fortunate in having you.”
“Aye, you are, my dear lord,” she agreed with him, and she laughed.
“You have set my mind at ease in this matter,” he replied. “I feel hope in my heart where I did not earlier.” He drank down his wine, and then arose from her bed. “I had best go to Argel now, and tell her of your wise counsel.” He pulled his tunic over his dark head.
“Do not say that it was my advice, my lord. Let her believe you have thought on the matter, and decided it yourself,” Gorawen said. “Argel is your wife, and you should not make her feel any less because of your love for me. If you had spent this last hour with her she very well might have offered you the same ideas as I had,” Gorawen said.
“It is not likely,” he told her, “for Argel, good woman she is, has not your keen mind, my love, but if I tell her these are my thoughts she will believe me, for she is, bless her, a trusting soul.”
“Do not underestimate her, my dear lord, for Argel’s heart is yours, and her duty first and foremost is to the Pendragons,” Gorawen replied sagely.
He bent and gave her a swift kiss. “You are a clever creature,” he told her with a chuckle, and then he left her.
Gorawen shook her golden head. She loved him, but he was not the quickest man where strategy was concerned. She wondered if Lord Mortimer would be able to convince the de Bohuns to accept ransom for the Pendragon brother and sister. There had been no need for them to kidnap Brynn and Junia. Why had they reignited a feud that had lain dormant for many years? And why had they felt it necessary to violate Junia? Was it possible that Lord de Bohun meant to wipe out the Pendragons? And why did he feel a need to do such a thing if it was indeed his purpose? Junia’s plight was making the trials suffered by her two elder sisters seem like child’s play in comparison. I must sleep on this, Gorawen thought to herself. Merin would not return to her tonight. The reality of what he had seen earlier rendered it impossible for him to make love to any woman this night, and possibly for many nights to come.
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