Etienne watched the castle as it loomed closer, stark against the bright blue sky. “Then you will not continue harvesting after you marry her?”
Tyren shook his head. “I told you I wanted to return to an honorable profession as soon as I was able,” he said. “I will not be able to continue after we are married. There is always a chance she will discover the truth and I could not live with that.”
Etienne eyed him. “You did what you had to do in order to survive,” he said quietly. “There is nothing shameful about that. We continue to do what is necessary to survive, Ty. We support hundreds of people the only way we can. Circumstances have driven us to unusual means.”
Tyren was well aware. “Hopefully that will change when I purchase a new herd and we graze them in the north, away from the poisoned lands,” he said. “But until then, until the day I marry her, we continue doing what we are doing. We still have mouths to feed.”
“And that changes when you marry her?”
“It has to.”
Etienne could see what he meant. But that didn’t change facts. “Not all of us will be able to survive with one small herd,” he said. “I have been speaking with some of the men, Ty. Even if you give up the harvest, we will continue. I fear we have little choice.”
Instead of becoming angry that he’d been left out of such a discussion, Tyren simply shrugged. The truth was that he had been expecting it because the men seemed to enjoy the thrill, the lucrative results. He could hardly blame them, right or wrong.
“I assumed as much,” he said. “I cannot stop you but I cannot continue on, either. If you continue to harvest, you will assume the risks as well.”
Etienne nodded. “We are willing to do that.”
Tyren glanced at him. “Do you become the new Greenhead Ghost, then?”
Etienne grinned. “I cannot hope to fill your shoes, but I shall try.”
Tyren snorted, returning his focus to the castle that was coming closer now. He wasn’t surprised that Etienne should suggest assuming his leadership as the head of their outlaw endeavors. Etienne was a loyal subject and an excellent knight. He was right in that not all of them could survive on the small herd Tyren planned to buy with his ill-gotten gains. Men would still have to make a living, however they could.
“You will not do it forever, will you?” he asked. “The more you harvest, the more of a chance there is being captured. If you are captured, Mars de Velt will know you serve me and then he will want to know if I knew of your activities. You can, therefore, see the quandary I would be in for I will not lie.”
Etienne appeared thoughtful to that particular dilemma. “Then I shall not be caught.”
“Ever?”
“Ever.”
Tyren chuckled at the man’s overabundance of confidence in that statement but he didn’t comment on it. He let it go, instead, turning his attention to horizon where Fourstones Castle was now becoming quite clear through the trees.
They covered a good deal of ground from that point, spurring the horses forward and cantering the rest of the way. Fourstones Castle was a motte and bailey castle, with an unusual two-storied stone keep on the top of the fairly tall motte and a massive bailey surrounded by walls that were mostly stone with some structures of timber attached to it, like stairs and railings. Although it was unusual for a castle be built of stone, Fourstones was true to its name – it was completely built of stone. It looked like part of the landscape, rising up out of the rocky ground, built from the same dark bluish-gray stones that covered the hills.
Tyren and Etienne covered the rest of the distance in relative silence, each man pondering his own thoughts, his own future. While Tyren hoped this day would see his future with a wife secured, Etienne was a little on edge, feeling as if the two of them were about to travel into the belly of the beast. For three long years, Mars de Velt had been trying to hunt them down and for three long years, they had evaded the man. Even though there was no way Mars could make any connection between them and the Greenhead Ghost robberies, still, Etienne was edgy. He hoped Mars wasn’t able to read minds.
The big iron gates of Fourstones Castle were open as they approached, open to admit the guests that were arriving for Valeria’s celebration. It was mid-afternoon and people were just starting to arrive in force, as the celebration would be a great feast that evening that would go all night. In fact, the celebration would probably last a few days and Tyren was looking forward to spending those days with the woman, he hoped, would be his wife by the end of the festivities.
Looking upon the walls and in the bailey itself, soldiers and servants from Fourstones were dressed in the de Velt red and black, silks for the servants and heavy woolen tunics for the soldiers. Banners waved in the wind overhead, flying from the battlements as well as the keep. With the brisk breeze, they could be heard popping and snapping.
The soldiers at the gate recognized Tyren as he and Etienne rode in. Stable boys dressed in red woolen tunics rushed out to collect the horses and the old majordomo with the stringy hair was in the bailey to answer questions and direct the guests. There was a big hall built into the wall of Fourstones, without the elaborate mosaic floor that Bardon Castle had, but it was big and spacious and comfortable. Instead of the fire pit in the middle of the hall, they had the updated feature of a hearth that was big enough to fit six or seven men inside. Smoke poured from the chimney in dark gray streams, dissipating into the sky as Tyren and Etienne dismounted their horses and turned them over to the waiting stable boys.
“My lord,” the majordomo greeted Tyren as soon as the man dismounted. “Lady Valeria is expecting you in her father’s solar. She has asked me to send you to her the moment you arrived.”
Tyren nodded and turned away from the old man, grinning rather slyly at Etienne as he made his way towards the dark-stoned keep. Etienne watched him go, thinking that he looked rather eager, before the majordomo caught his attention and directed him to the hall where there was food and drink. Happy to indulge in de Velt’s fine alcohol, Etienne turned for the hall, giving a last thought to Tyren by hoping the man fared well in his efforts to seek a betrothal with a young woman whom he clearly longed for.
As Etienne lost himself in the fine wine of the hall, Tyren was more than ready to lose himself in the keep. He took the steps quickly, pushing open the old door that led into the keep and finding himself in the cool darkness of the entry. It smelled moist, like wet earth, and he fought off a sneeze. Mars’ solar was immediately to the right and the door was open; Tyren knew it was Mars’ solar because he’d been there many a time on his visits to Fourstones.
In fact, as he stepped into the room, Tyren half-expected to see Mars but wasn’t really surprised when he didn’t. As always, Mars was elusive and nowhere to be found, but he didn’t really care at this point. The very person he wanted to see, the very reason for the celebration, was sitting at a table near the hearth. When Valeria looked up and saw who it was, a big smile spread across her lips.
It was a smile to melt hearts. Tyren smiled in return, so very glad to see her. “My lady,” he greeted. “I come at your summons.”
Valeria simply took a moment to look at him before answering. Simply seeing him did her heart good. Truth be told, she had been in her father’s solar for a few hours, looking out of the lancet windows as guests arrived, hoping that the very next guest would be Tyren but being disappointed time and time again. At least, she had been until a few minutes ago when she saw Tyren and his knight, Etienne, ride through the gates.
At the sight of the powerful knights, she’d rushed to a seat by the hearth and collected the sewing that had been waiting there, a prop to make it appear as if she hadn’t been watching anxiously for Tyren’s arrival. She didn’t want to look too anxious or too thrilled to see him. But as he walked into the solar and she beheld his square-jawed good looks, her heart began to race, just a little.
She was very glad to see him.
“Greetings, Ty,” she finally said, settin
g her sewing aside quite calmly. “I was not sure if you would come. It has been a goodly while since we have seen you at Fourstones.”
Tyren came towards her, his eyes glittering. “I would not miss your party,” he said. “I am sorry that my duties have kept me away overlong, but I hope you know that I would be here on this day of days. Nothing could keep me away.”
Valeria instantly forgave him for staying away. Not that she’d held a grudge against him, anyway, but his smile seemed to soothe away any sad feelings she might have harbored. She indicated a stool near her and he immediately took it, settling his big body down. He even scooted the stool in her direction, discreetly, simply to be closer to her.
“I know you would not miss it,” she said, her eyes twinkling at him. “I am sure you have been quite busy lately. How are your mother and brother?”
Tyren didn’t want to talk about his family. He wanted to talk about her. About them. But he obliged her. “My mother is doing well,” he said. “She begs your forgiveness for not attending your celebration, but she does not travel well these days, nor does my brother, as you know. But my brother is coming along as well as can be expected. The days are long and difficult for him at times.”
Valeria’s smile faded. “I am sure they must be,” she said sympathetically. “What happened to Torstyn was tragic. He is in my prayers, still.”
Tyren’s gaze lingered on her, drinking in her exquisite beauty. “And me?” he asked softly. “Am I in your prayers as well?”
Valeria’s grin was back, this time bashful. “You are always in my prayers, Ty,” she said. “Must you really ask?”
His grin broadened. “Actually, I do,” he said, sounding as if he were jesting with her when he wasn’t. He was quite serious but didn’t want her to think he was. “I must make sure I am the only man you pray for. If there was another man you prayed for more than me, then I would have to kill him. Indeed, I must make sure I am the only one.”
Valeria’s cheeks grew warm. “You are the only one.”
That was exactly what he wanted to hear. “Am I truly?” he asked, his tone softening somewhat. “Surely… surely you know that I have been coming to visit you these past few years with a purpose in mind. And it wasn’t simply so you would pray for me.”
She feigned surprise. “It wasn’t?”
He chuckled softly. “Nay, it wasn’t,” he said, eyeing her. “Surely you knew… it was simply to know any news of your brother.”
Her jaw dropped in outrage, although it was in good humor. “You have been coming to visit for the past three years simply to know if we had heard anything of Romulus?”
He nodded, seeing that he had tricked her into showing concern for the reasons behind his visits. He broke down into laughter. “Silly girl,” he said. “I was not coming to hear news of Romulus. Surely you know that. I have only come to see you, as if you did not know.”
She was back to flushing again. “Nay, I did not know.”
“You did not?”
She shook her head, coy. “Nay.”
He lifted his eyebrows. “Then forgive me for not being obvious enough.”
She looked at him, grinning and biting her lip. “It is good that you tell me now, then,” she said, “for I thought you were coming to visit simply because you were bored and had no one else to talk to.”
His eyebrows lifted. “So I must ride four hours from my home to find conversation?” he asked, shaking his head. “Surely you are not so dense. You must know you were my reason for coming.”
She averted her gaze. “I am flattered, my lord.”
He had to chuckle. “You little fox,” he said. “Of course you knew I was coming to see you. How could you think differently? I have all but thrown myself at your feet for the past three years.”
She shrugged, bashful now. “You could have simply told me your intentions, you know.”
“I am telling you now.”
“True,” she said, looking at him once more. “Then tell me plainly what your intentions are. I am listening.”
It was the opportunity Tyren had been hoping for. He didn’t think it would come so soon but he didn’t care; he was so swept up in her charm, in the sight of her, that he was glad the opportunity had come forth. Boldly, he reached out and took her hand, a tender and soft thing. He held it gently, watching her flush furiously with delight.
“I would be happy to tell you my intentions,” he said, his voice soft, “and I have, in fact, brought a gift for you to show you of my sincerity. Your father will think I have brought you a gift on the event of your birthday. But the truth is that this is not that kind of gift; it is a gift from the heart. Mine to yours.”
Valeria was so giddy that she was starting to feel faint. His flesh against hers was warm and wonderful. She had missed him so terribly during the time he’d stayed away that to have him here, so close to her, was nearly more than she could bear. She could have fainted away dead in his arms and have been quite happy about it.
“You speak of hearts, Ty,” she said, her voice trembling. “Do not tease me so.”
He grinned. “I am most definitely not teasing,” he said. “I realize I should have told you all of this sooner but it has taken me some time to work up the courage. You are so beautiful, Valeria. Surely you can see that every unmarried man in the shire looks to you as a potential mate. I fear that if I do not make the attempt now to stake my claim that all will be lost. You will marry another and my heart will be shattered.”
Valeria could hardly breathe. “Marry?” she whispered.
He lifted her hand, kissed it sweetly, and gently released it. Then, he began to dig around at his belt where his purse and daggers were located. As Valeria watched, heart fluttering wildly from his kiss, he pulled forth his leather purse and opened it. He poked around in it until he finally extracted something she couldn’t quite see. Then he closed the purse and reached out to claim her hand once more. When he spoke, his voice was soft.
“I realize that I am not at all good enough for you,” he said. “I realize that you could have your pick of any man in Northern England. Although I am not a fine lord and I do not have great wealth, please know that I long for you to be my wife, Valeria. I will give you all of the love and devotion that you will ever need. In that, you shall be very rich, indeed. If you are agreeable, and I sincerely hope you are, then I would like to ask permission to speak to your father about a betrothal. Will you at least consider it?”
Valeria could hardly believe what she was hearing. Until this very moment, she hadn’t realized how badly she wanted the man and how very much she was in love with him. She realized that she had always loved him but because he’d been older, and far more worldly, she didn’t think he would ever look upon her as someone he could be happy with. She was young and, at times, silly. At least she thought so. Of course, she had always hoped he would see her differently. All of these years he’d been coming to visit Fourstones, and her, she had hoped it. An entire lifetime of hoping was in her expression as she gazed back at him, hopes that would now be realized.
But on the heels of that joy and that hope, came the brutal crash of reality. Tyren would have to speak to Mars about their betrothal and Mars, as she knew, could not speak at all. She wasn’t even sure the man understood anything that was said to him these days. So seeking his permission for a betrothal was impossible. More than that, Tyren would quickly realize that Mars de Velt was incapacitated, which meant that as Warden of the Tyne Vale, he was useless. Someone else would have had to execute his duties for him, the one person who had known the depths of Mars’ condition. And that path would lead him straight to Valeria.
Her shocking secret would be revealed.
No man would want a wife who had been executing a man’s duties.
Therefore, she had no idea what to say to Tyren. Her eyes were wide as she looked at him, knowing she should say something, watching the light of hope in his eyes dim as she didn’t give him an immediate answer.
; As she struggled for something to say, Tyren spoke quickly as if to salvage the situation. From her expression and her delay in replying, it was clear that he thought he’d said something terribly wrong.
If he only knew the truth.
“Mayhap this token of my esteem will help you decide,” he said, an odd urgency to his voice. “I have a gift for you and I do hope you like it. It is only a small token of what I feel for you, Valeria, so it is my hope that every time you look at it, you will think of me and know of my sincerity.”
He was slipping something on her finger but Valeria didn’t get a good look at it until he held her hand up in her face, so that she could see it.
Immediately, a large crimson-colored stone was in her line of sight. It was quite big, the size of a robin’s egg, and it was mounted on very dark gold that had etchings of grapes and horses and other animals on it, very tiny. The ring itself was so old that the gold was nearly black with age, although it was still a beautiful ring and a beautiful mounting. But it was a mounting Valeria immediately recognized. The shock at seeing it overtook the feelings of hesitation and fear she’d been experiencing.
Now, she found herself looking at a ring she knew very, very well. It was Aunt Cassia’s ring.
But… didn’t she say that it had been stolen on the road through the Tyne Vale?
Valeria’s heart began to pound in her ears as she stared at the ring. All she could seem to do was stare at it.
My God… it can’t be!
“Where did you get this?” she asked, her voice strangely hoarse.
Tyren was watching her expression, wondering why she had suddenly turned so pale. Even her lips were pale. “It is a very old ring,” he said, avoiding the question. “In fact, there is said to be a legend with it. The woman that wears it shall find true happiness with the love of her life and as long as she is in love, the stone will stay this crimson color. If she loses that love, it will turn black. I know you do not love me, Valeria, but as your husband, I would hope that you will give me the chance to earn your love. I will try very hard to be worthy of you.”
Ever My Love: The Lore of the Lucius Ring (The Legend of the Theodosia Sword Book 2) Page 6
