At the moment, however, Tyren took priority. He was her more pressing concern than the truth about her father. But she knew, before the night was out, that she would tell Cassia the truth about him. There was no point in holding it back any longer.
Somehow, it seemed terribly selfish to keep the truth from Cassia. She was Mars’ sister, after all, and Valeria was coming to see that secrets were terrible things, indeed.
They could destroy everything.
“Nay,” she said after a moment, her voice weak. “I will not tell Papa. I am not sure what I will do, but I will not tell anyone right now. It is for you and me to know and no one else.”
She lifted the latch but Cassia’s voice stopped her. “Tyren has given you the ring, Valeria,” she reminded her quietly. “The ring is crimson now because you love him. But if he runs, or if you feel that you must bring the man to justice for what he has done, know that you have set the wheels in motion of a most unsavory curse. Your happiness will depend upon your decision, my dearest. I pray you take that into consideration before acting.”
Valeria wouldn’t look at her. “What I feel, or what I do, has nothing to do with that ring,” she said. “I know you believe in the curse but I cannot say that I do. In any case, my decision will not be based on the fear of never finding another man to love. It will be based on the fear of losing the only man I have loved.”
With that, she bolted from the chamber, the door shutting softly behind her. Cassia sat at her dressing table, the ring still in her hand, hoping that love would, in this case, indeed, triumph over all. When she had lost her Albert, she’d never been given a choice.
But Valeria had that choice, the choice between love and loneliness. She prayed that her niece would choose wisely.
* * *
“How did Lady Valeria like the ring?” Etienne asked. “Did she throw her arms around you and smother you with kisses?”
Tyren had joined his knight in the hall, wandering through the gathering crowd of guests to find Etienne sitting at the feasting table near the smoking hearth. A servant brought him a big cup of sweet red wine as he took his seat and he drank deeply before answering.
“She was very surprised by it,” he said. “Frankly, it was difficult to tell if she liked it or not. She was speechless. But I am sure once the shock wears off, she will smother me with kisses and I shall happily accept every one of them.”
Etienne chuckled. “Women are strange creatures,” he observed. “Mayhap, she was expecting a better token of your esteem. Diamonds or rubies, mayhap.”
Tyren shook his head. “Valeria does not give importance to those things,” he said. “I am sure she was simply overcome. It was not as if she were prepared. I have never given her cause to believe I would make an offer for her hand.”
Etienne drained his cup and held it to the nearest well-dressed servant, who filled it up again. “Nay, you have not,” he said. Then, he lowered his voice when the servant wandered away. “But there is something else to consider, Ty. Let us say that you marry the girl. What if her father dies? You, as her husband, will be expected to fill the role of Warden of the Tyne Vale in his stead. Romulus certainly isn’t around to do it, so that duty will fall on you. What will you do?”
Tyren drank from his cup. “Assume the role, of course,” he said, smacking his lips. “It is an honorable appointment and I will make an excellent warden.”
Etienne eyed him, a faint smile on his lips. “And what will you do if you are in a position to arrest me?” he asked. “I have made it plain that I will continue to harvest. Will you punish the next Greenhead Ghost?”
Tyren looked around, casually, to make sure their conversation was not being overheard by the guests that were crowded into the room. Many more had come since he and Etienne had arrived, well-dressed neighbors and friends, and it made him nervous when Etienne spoke so freely.
“Still your tongue,” he said casually. “We will not discuss this subject in the open.”
Etienne simply shrugged and went back to his wine. The room around them was more interesting now with the people filling it up and he found himself watching a particularly busty young woman dressed in dark blue wool with butterfly combs in her hair. He watched as the girl sipped at her wine, her eyes darting about anxiously, for gatherings such as this were rare. Parties were expensive and most people did not have such means. As he watched the girl in conversation with an older man, presumably her father, Tyren spoke softly at his side.
“Ah,” he said quietly. “The angel appears.”
Etienne turned to see what had his friend’s attention and was not surprised to see Valeria enter the hall. Tall, with long limbs and a delicious figure, she was clad in a pale green silk that matched the color of her eyes. With her dark hair and elegant column of long neck, she looked exquisite. Etienne could clearly see what had Tyren so smitten with the woman.
“The lady of the day,” Etienne said with approval. “I have not seen Lady Valeria in over a year. She was always a beautiful girl but the past year has been good to her. No wonder she has your attention.”
Tyren grinned, standing up so that Valeria could see him. She had said that she would come to him after speaking with her father and she had appeared rather quickly. That was either a very good thing or a very bad thing. He hadn’t seen Mars in years but the last he saw of the man, he still had a rather foul and fickle temper. He hoped that the man would, at least, hear him out.
Valeria was immediately caught by guests near the entrance, all of them congratulating her on the occasion of her birth. She was very polite, smiling and accepting their well wishes, but it was clear she was searching for something. Or someone. Even when she saw Tyren over near the feasting table, it was a struggle to move in his direction. Everyone wanted to hug her and congratulate her. After what seemed like an eternity moving through the crowd in the smoke-filled hall and being a gracious hostess, she finally reached Tyren. By this time, however, Etienne was on his feet and he greeted her politely.
“My lady,” Etienne said. “Let me be one of many to wish you good health and prosperity on this day.”
Valeria smiled at the man. “I’ve not seen you in quite some time, Etienne,” she said. “You used to come around all of the time when my brother was here but now you make yourself quite scarce. It is agreeable to see you again.”
Etienne grinned, rather mischievously. “If I were to come to visit, someone we both know might try to thrash me,” he said, his eyes flicking in Tyren’s direction. “He might view me as competition and, of course, he does not tolerate that sort of thing.”
Valeria laughed. “I cannot believe you would allow him to thrash you.”
“You have not seen him in a fight, have you?”
Valeria’s smile faded. You have not seen him in a fight, he’d said. It reminded her of robbing travelers and the multitude of battles Tyren must have endured against guards and other armed men because of it, men simply defending their possessions from a thief. Surely, Etienne had also been part of the thievery because he was close to Tyren and served him. To think that both of these men, men she had known and trusted for years, were the outlaws terrorizing the Tyne Vale made her feel ill again. She had only just gotten over her initial shock, now to have it come down upon her again worse than before. Her humor was at an end and she turned to Tyren.
“I must speak with you,” she said seriously. “Will you indulge me?”
Tyren nodded and set his wine cup down. “Of course.”
He followed her from the table, presumably to leave the hall, but not before passing Etienne a rather concerned look. Etienne could only wish his friend luck as he followed the tall, elegant lady through the crowded room, disappearing out of the hall entry.
Once out in the early afternoon, Tyren caught up to Valeria and politely put his hand on her elbow, purely as a gesture of escort. He had noticed her mood grow serious quite suddenly and he found that he was rather concerned about it. Perhaps all had not gone well wit
h Mars, after all.
“Did you speak with your father, then?” he asked quietly as they headed towards the keep. “Your humorless expression is starting to frighten me.”
Valeria struggled to keep calm. There was so much she wanted to say to him, to ask him, but she would not do it now for all to hear. Fourstones soldiers were about and upon the battlements. She could see Worth as he went about his arounds. He was watching her, in fact, no doubt disapproving of her being with Tyren de Dere. Worth had never much liked Tyren and there were whispers that it was jealousy. But Valeria never gave those rumors any thought; what Worth felt was of his own doing. She couldn’t, and wouldn’t, encourage the man.
“I am sorry if I seem subdued,” she finally said. “As I told you earlier, this has been an overwhelming day and it is not over yet.”
Tyren couldn’t help but notice that she really didn’t give him an answer. “Is your father’s mood foul, then?”
“It is always foul.”
Tyren was starting to understand why her mood was so serious. “I see,” he said. “I cannot say that I am surprised. I have never known your father to be particularly jolly or amiable. I suppose all I can do is face him and plead my case. You are agreeable to this, are you not?”
Valeria nodded her head. “I am.”
They were at the steps to the keep, beneath the gentle blue sky, and Tyren suddenly came to a halt. He still had her by the elbow, holding on to her as he faced her.
“Forgive me, Valeria, but it does not seem to me that you are,” he said quietly. “Ever since we spoke in your father’s solar, there has been a change in your mood. I asked you if I had offended you and you denied that I had, but I do not believe you are being truthful with me. If you are not agreeable to this betrothal, you need only say so. I will not press my suit if you are unwilling.”
Valeria gazed into his handsome face and her heart twisted with angst. She was so torn with what she suspected and the proof she had been presented with, yet the man before her was the same man she had longed for and loved since she could remember. It was Tyren; her Tyren. Compassionate, noble, and kind. That was the man she knew. Impulsively, she reached out to touch his face.
“Please come with me,” she whispered. “Ask no more questions. Please.”
Tyren was growing confused as well as concerned. He took the hand at his face and kissed the palm before pressing it to his cheek again. “What is wrong?” he begged. “Won’t you tell me?”
“Ty….”
“Was it the ring? You seemed to change after I gave it to you. Do you not like it and are afraid to tell me?”
Valeria was on the verge of telling him; she was verging on telling him everything that was on her mind but she knew that if she did, he would run from her, or worse. Perhaps he would deny it. She wouldn’t marry a man who could lie to her so she didn’t want to give him the chance. There was a huge portion of her that still believed in his nobility, in his sense of honor. Aunt Cassia had said that even noble men were driven to dark deeds by necessity. She very much wanted to believe that.
“Come with me,” she murmured again.
Taking his hand, she pulled him along into the darkened keep and up the narrow stairs that spiraled up to the living quarters above. On the third level, there were two rooms, adjoined, and she pulled him through the open room to a door at the other end. Knocking softly, they both heard a soft female voice respond. Valeria lifted the latch and led Tyren inside.
Tyren entered the room, which immediately smelled like a lady’s room. He could smell something sweet and rather unpleasant, a perfume that he did not like. Behind him, Valeria had shut the door and he heard the bolt thrown. He glanced at her curiously before his gaze, adjusting to the dim light, searched the room. He fully expected to see Mars seated somewhere, near the hearth perhaps, but was surprised to realize that he spied a woman, instead.
An old woman. She was seated in front of a dressing table with a polished bronzed mirror, facing the mirror and brushing the hair around her face. Valeria, still standing behind him, spoke with a trembling tone.
“Auntie,” she said. “This is Sir Tyren de Dere. Tyren, this is my Aunt Cassia, my father’s sister.”
Tyren didn’t have a clue what he was in for. Not in his wildest dreams could have imagined it. Unaware, he greeted the older woman politely.
“My lady,” he said. “It is a pleasure to meet you. I did not know that Lord Mars had a sister.”
There was a very long pause, an odd and heavy silence that filled the room. Tyren was starting to think that the older woman was hard of hearing and turned to look at Valeria, curiously, and was startled to see tears in her eyes. Brow furrowed, he opened his mouth to ask her what the matter was when the older woman suddenly spoke.
“It is him,” she said. “Valeria, this is the man.”
“Are you certain, Auntie?”
“I am.”
Valeria sighed heavily, blinking, and fat tears rolled down her cheeks. Very concerned and very puzzled, Tyren moved towards Valeria, his gentle hand on her arm.
“What is the matter?” he asked softly. “Why do you weep?”
Valeria pulled away from him, breaking his grip as she moved towards her aunt, who shifted the stool she was sitting on so that she could turn and face Tyren. When she turned fully and he caught a complete view of her face, it took him a moment to realize that he was looking at the old woman he had robbed the day before. Although he didn’t react outwardly, inside was quite a different matter.
His breath caught in his throat as the shock of seeing the old woman hit him full force. The old woman from the carriage! His mind screamed. His next immediate thought was of the ring he’d stolen from her. The very ring he’d given to Valeria. With that realization, he couldn’t help his mouth from popping open. In fact, it was an effort to keep from staggering back, away from the vision facing him. He couldn’t breathe and he could hardly think which precluded him from saying anything. He simply stared. He was still staring at the old woman’s face when Valeria spoke.
“You wanted to know what I thought of the ring you gave me, Ty,” she said, tears still on her cheeks. Valeria walked to her aunt and took the ring. She put it on and faced Tyren. She held up her hand, displaying the crimson-stoned ring in the weak light of the tapers. “The ring you gave me is a family ring, an heirloom that has belonged in my family for centuries. My aunt was traveling to my party yesterday to give it to me, a gift on my eighteenth birthday. You see, this ring has been passed down to the eldest daughter of every generation, a tradition in our family, and she was coming to bring it to me. But you robbed her on the road and took it from her, only to give it to me as a gift. I recognized the ring, you see. That is why my manner changed. I asked you where you got it and you would not tell me. But the truth was that I already knew where you got it. Now, I will ask you again and you will not lie to me. Did you steal this ring from my aunt yesterday?”
Tyren was surprisingly calm. His initial shock had worn off and his usually controlled manner returned quickly. He was caught and he knew it. He would not lie to her; that had never even occurred to him. In fact, there was nothing he could do at all except answer her question as truthfully and bravely as he could.
In understanding the chain of events as Valeria had explained them, the irony of the situation was unfathomable. He had robbed the aunt of a ring meant for Valeria and ended up giving himself, and his activities, away when he presented it to Valeria as a gift. It was foolish, really. So very foolish.
The Greenhead Ghost had been caught by his own arrogance. He fought off the urge to smile at his own folly.
“Have you told your father?” he finally asked.
Valeria sighed faintly. “Answer my question,” she said. “Did you steal this from my aunt yesterday?”
“Aye.”
Valeria flinched, as if he had struck her with the force of his answer. She had known what his answer would be all along, but still, the reality was brutal. T
he next question she delivered was logical and essential.
“Are you the Greenhead Ghost?”
“Aye.”
He said it without hesitation. There was no pride or boast in his reply, only truth. Valeria had been strong up until that point, at least as strong as she thought she could be. But that simple answer had her reeling. Her guard came down. The tears flowed faster.
“It is you?” she gasped. “These robbery, the killing… it has all been you?”
Tyren could see the breakdown coming. More than that, he could see the end of every dream he’d ever had. His dreams had been Valeria and a family with her, but now he could see that would never be. It was all dashed to hell. Feeling as if he’d just had all of the breath sucked out of him, he saw a chair a few feet away and sat heavily. He didn’t try to run and he didn’t try to talk his way out of anything. It would be no use, anyway.
He was at an end. Perhaps, if he explained himself, it might make it easier for Valeria to understand. He felt the need to ease her, for she was quite upset. He felt guilty about it, as if confessing his most terrible weakness.
“We were starving,” he said hoarsely. “My mother, my brother, and my people. When the cattle died, we had nothing left. My people were eating twigs and berries. My mother and brother were living on stewed birds. We had no money and nothing to buy food with, so I had to choose between my honor and feeding my people. Desperation drove me to do something I am not proud of, but it was necessary. You may tell your father that for me, although it will not make a difference. I am sure he is waiting at the door to put me in irons, as well he should.”
Valeria looked at her aunt in horror as he finished his speech, realizing that Cassia had been correct. Three years ago, the cattle died and, three years ago, the robberies in the vale had started. She didn’t know why she’d never realized that. We were starving. Pity swamped her, mixing with the angst and grief of the situation.
“Then we must be terrible neighbors and friends to you,” she said, great emotion in her voice. “We must be terrible if you did not feel as if you could come to us for help, Tyren. We would have helped you. Why did you not ask?”
Ever My Love: The Lore of the Lucius Ring (The Legend of the Theodosia Sword Book 2) Page 8
