She woke up trying to scream. Clutching her burning throat, she looked around and found herself in the middle of her bed in her chambers.
In Yester Castle.
“Here now, Brienne,” said a soft voice. “You have been dreaming.”
Emilie. A cousin. Her companion and maid.
“How long have I been here?” she asked.
“All through the night, I suppose,” she said with a soft laugh. “Unless you went off cavorting after I put you to bed last night?” Brienne accepted the cup of cool water and sipped it as she watched the girl tug the bedcovers and smooth them around her.
No matter that she was considered family, she had no doubt that Lord Hugh wanted to keep her fire powers a secret, so she said nothing. Part of her thought she’d dreamed it, for there was no sign that she’d left her bed since she’d climbed in after her bath. Then she noticed Emilie searching for something.
“I cannot find the robe I left here on the bed last evening.” Emilie knelt down and looked beneath the bed now. “Did you . . . put it away? Or pull it under the bedcovers with you?”
The memory of the robe burning off of her flooded her mind, along with the pain and fear. She shivered against it. Had it been real? She looked at her hands, the ones that had taken the full force of the fire, and saw no evidence of injury.
“No matter,” Emilie said, going over to the trunk that held her new garments. “Here is another, though not as heavy as the other.”
The girl held out the robe and waited for her to get out of the bed. Unaccustomed as Brienne was to dressing or undressing or bathing in front of another, she found it difficult to do without hesitation. So, she slid out of the covers, keeping most of her body beneath them until the last moment. Or she would have if Emilie had not pulled the covers off her.
“What? How?” she asked, tugging Brienne aside to look at the sheets. Black streaks marked what had been pristine linens. “This,” Emilie said, rubbing a finger along one of the marks and smelling it, “smells like ashes. What did you do?”
Brienne knew that the ash was from last night, but how could she explain that? Searching for the right words, she was about to try to explain—something—when the door to the chamber opened and Lord Hugh walked in.
“Emilie,” Lord Hugh said without even glancing over at her.
“My lord?”
“Do not ever think to question my daughter. About anything. Do you understand?” he asked. The way he stood with his arms folded across his chest and a very serious expression on his face made Brienne glad that she was not the one to whom he spoke.
“Aye, my lord,” Emilie whispered, bowing to him. “Never.” Now when the girl looked at her, her eyes filled with terror.
“You may leave us now.”
All it took was that and she fled without looking back. Lord Hugh closed the door and faced her.
“I beg your pardon if I was expected somewhere, my lord,” she offered.
“How do you fare, Brienne?” He walked closer and examined her closely. “Is your strength returned?”
“I am well,” she said. Though she’d awakened badly, now that the stupor of sleep had passed, she felt much better.
“I find that it invigorates me,” he said, not taking his gaze from hers. All pretense was gone between them; she understood that now.
She shrugged. “I have never done that before. Never tried.”
“And always hidden it away? From Gavin and Fia?” He sighed. “I did not know you had inherited the power of our line,” he admitted. “From everything planned, it should have been Adelaide.” He gestured for her to sit. She did so.
“And she did not?” she asked. Strange that her half sister had been raised with their father believing she would be the one.
“Nay,” he said. “A disappointment in every respect. Never mind, though. Now I have found you.” He smiled, and she was amazed at how his features softened when he did. “Will you stay and let me train you to use it? There is so much to show you.”
The enthusiasm in his voice warmed her heart even though she tried not to let it. This was a strange new world, and she was lost in it. He could guide her to accept and learn about this awesome power they shared. And now that he knew, the fear of him discovering it vanished. She did not have to hide it. She did not want to hide it any longer.
If she accepted his offer, she would not have to.
“Aye, my lord,” she said, nodding.
“Do not misunderstand, Brienne. The power that I have, that you inherited, has been honed and passed down through generation after generation. There is a purpose for it—a great purpose.”
She shivered at those words. She’d heard something like that whispered among those who’d taken her that day.
Bloodlines. Generations. Powers. Destruction.
The young woman Aislinn had spoken only of the gods she worshipped and had not given her much information about those gods in the short time they had. Was that what he meant?
“Ours is a dangerous power that could destroy us instead of our enemies, so you must give me your word that you will follow my guidance and instructions.”
“Aye, my lord. I wish to learn,” she admitted. And it was the truth, for she had wanted for years to understand it—since the first hints of it had appeared.
He smiled again and nodded. “Speak of it to no one and remain within the walls, at least until you have learned to control it more. Then you shall take your place at my side. I will come for you this night after the others have gone to bed and we will begin. Rest this day. You will need your strength.” He walked to the door and then turned back to her. “This pleases me greatly. You please me.”
And then he was gone, as quickly and as quietly as he’d arrived.
Brienne knew somewhere deep inside that she should be suspicious of such a fortuitous change in her life, that this man had done terrible things to people she knew and to others she’d heard about. But bringing her here, accepting her and the power they shared, and inviting her to learn and be at this side—it tore down her resistance. For so much of her life, she’d long to be claimed, not to be the secret, not to be the one forced to live in darkness.
Now he offered her what she’d wanted.
How could she not grab for it?
* * *
William and his men rode out in the morning, invited by Lord Hugh to tour his lands. They spent much of the morning riding through the area around the castle, inspecting the moat and the canals that drained it. Lord Hugh was an amiable host, pointing out various improvements he’d made, instructing William in land management and offering suggestions about crops.
Watching for any signs of discontentment or sedition, William found none. At least none spoken of or whispered where he or his men could hear. And though the weapons he’d seen would arm a very large group of soldiers, they saw no more than would be expected to guard a castle of this size.
Neither did Roger, Gautier, and Armand find anything amiss in the barracks where the guards and others who served in the castle lived. No one talked openly, but they heard neither gossip nor tales passed around. If this man was planning a revolt against the king, there were no signs of it here in his principal holding.
Yet they had been in residence for only one day, so Lord Hugh could be hiding something. Someone good at deception could hide something for months, but there was bound to be a slip somewhere and sometime. A prickling under his skin told William that Lord Hugh was very good.
A messenger came for him, calling Lord Hugh back to see to a matter in the keep and he bade them to continue riding with Alain. William engaged the man in a discussion over the size of fields long enough to seem interested and then gave him leave to return to his duties. Circling the castle, he rode through the village, again looking for Brienne.
“You look for the girl, Will?” Roger asked
as they rode side by side along the path.
“I have not seen her since that day. I . . .” He did not know what or how to say that he was concerned over what had happened to her.
“I’ve not seen you like this over a woman before,” Roger said. “And I have seen you with many, many women.”
“I find myself thinking about her more and more, even though I know she is not suitable for me once the king’s grant comes through. I want to seek her out and speak to her and . . .” He shrugged. “I have not felt this way about a woman before, as you said.”
“She is one of his villagers,” Roger said, nodding his head toward the castle. “She is tied here by family.”
“I understand all of that. I also know she is deeply involved in our mission. And I suspect it is much bigger than even the king suspected.”
“Bigger than treason?” Roger scoffed. “What could the king fear more than losing his throne?”
Losing his life? Losing his soul? William dared not voice those suspicions, but they weighed heavily on him.
“Well, between what happened to you and those strangers,” Gautier said, “and all of the peculiar things we have heard and seen, I know this is not something we have ever dealt with before. It will not be as simple as a battle or a fight, Will. There is something larger and more dangerous at play here now.”
William nodded. “I think we will long for the days of simple fighting by the time our task is done, Roger.”
William could not yet accept the things he suspected, but he knew the time was coming when he would question everything he thought and believed or pay for it with his life.
And knowing that, he prayed that neither he nor his men would pay that price.
Chapter 14
The weather outside remained sunny and mild for the second day in a row, and Brienne decided to walk outside and enjoy it. If the truth be told, she was bored at having no tasks to see to or errands to carry out.
The anticipation of what was to come this night made her shiver when she thought about it, and that brought attention from either Lady Margaret or Adelaide when they were with her. So she asked permission to walk and left the keep. She noted that her chamber was at one end of the building on the second floor as she followed a servant out. Trying to remember where Lord Hugh’s had been, she studied the windows from outside, deciding that his was on the far end in the small tower.
She thought about leaving the castle grounds and going to see her—Gavin and Fia, but she’d said she would remain here until she gained control over her power. Looking about, she walked toward the far corner of the castle, where men trained. Drawn by the sound of cheering, she discovered that small groups of men were practicing their skills by fighting other groups.
She walked to the fence that surrounded the training area and watched as one of the groups, four men in each, moved effortlessly and won against each opponent. They did not use the longer battle swords yet, but first worked with the long wooden staffs and then shorter ones and then short swords and shields.
The crowd grew and the men became quite boisterous, calling out to their friends, though none seemed happy that the successful four soldiers were winning. One of the four outshone the others, moving expertly no matter which weapon he held. His steps were like those of a dance; he was sliding and shifting without watching and all the while engaging whomever he faced. Only when he turned and came out of the shadows did she recognize him.
Sir William de Brus.
Her breath caught in her body and she could not turn her eyes away from his every move and step. William seemed to lose himself in the battle, paying no heed to anyone or anything but the fight. A pale blue shimmer outlined his body, and she watched as it ebbed and flowed around him with each movement.
Knowing now that he held some kind of power, as she and her father did, she was not frightened as she had been the first time she’d noticed it. It made sense now that there might be others like her and Lord Hugh. What power had he? The way that he fought this day and on that other one, the way his body had changed as he faced danger and became one with his weapon, she thought he must carry some warrior’s power.
She shrugged it off, content just to watch him.
Soon, too soon for her, the matches were over and the ground littered with his opponents, though none seemed to be injured. Their pride mayhap bruised, but all would live to fight another day.
Just then a cloud crossed in front of the sun, casting a shadow over William and his men. She shivered, knowing somehow that they would fight again and they would face Lord Hugh’s men, these very men, again. The next time, though, it would be a struggle of life and death for all of them.
At that moment, William looked away from the men to whom he spoke and met her eyes. At first glance, she thought he did not recognize her, but then he nodded to her. With a word to his men, who also followed his gaze and noticed her, he walked toward her. He wore only breeches, and his broad, muscular chest glistened with sweat. He’d pulled back and tied his long brown hair out of his face, which just made the masculine lines and angles of his jaw more attractive.
When he reached her and smiled at her with a sense of familiarity, any words of greeting scattered in her mind. This was the man who had kissed her relentlessly. This was the man who had touched her so intimately. Though he said it was to teach her the dangers in being alone with a man, even she recognized the moment when he’d forgotten the lesson and simply kissed and caressed her. Her body blossomed with heat of a kind different from the one she could bring forth.
“Brienne, I did not think to find you here,” he said with a glance around to see who was near. “Are you well?”
“I did not think to see you either, Sir William,” she finally said. “Aye, I am well.” He watched her as though he expected her not to be. That was puzzling. “So you have met with Lord Hugh as you wished to?”
“I have,” he said. Confusion filled his eyes now. “What are you doing here in the castle?”
What could she say without revealing Lord Hugh’s secrets? What reason could she give for being here, being dressed not as the daughter of the blacksmith any longer but as the daughter of the lord? Deciding simpler was easier, she gave him the truth, or part of it.
“Lord Hugh summoned me here.”
It was not enough; that much was clear on his face. But just as he began to pursue it, one of his men called out to him.
Torn, he waved back and turned to her.
“I must go,” he said. “I would speak to you, if you will be here later? Or do you return to the village?”
“Sir William!” He took a couple of steps away and waited for her reply.
She only shrugged and did not say.
“I will look for you, then.” And he was gone. He did lift his head and glance at her a few times, until she walked away.
Brienne returned to the family’s chambers then, ignoring the racing of her heart and the way she had responded to the sight of his strong body moving across the field. He was here, within these walls, so near and yet so impossibly far from her. Her father was watching her, or at least having her watched, and she did not wish to do anything to jeopardize her newfound position in the family. So she would not seek William out.
No matter that her heart wanted her to . . . or that her body could still feel his hands moving over her stomach and touching her.
She ate once more in her chambers and then waited for the sound of her father’s footsteps outside her door, but instead, he simply appeared there and beckoned her to follow. With her palms sweating and her mouth dry, she trailed him without hesitation that night.
* * *
William looked down every corridor and hallway the rest of the day and evening. Lord Hugh did not appear for supper, so Lady Margaret entertained him. They came from neighboring areas in France and they had many common topics that kept the conversation
going. But every time another person entered the dining chamber that sat off the great hall, he would turn to look.
And not find her.
Mayhap she was not here? Mayhap she had been there only on an errand between Lord Hugh and her father? Remembering the garments she wore, he doubted that. The gown was unlike any he’d seen her wear before. It was of a costly fabric, and the belt around her hips was fine-tooled leather. Again, costly and finer than the daughter of the blacksmith would have.
More like the kind a wealthy man gave to his mistress.
The thought of Brienne being taken to the bed of a man like Hugh turned his stomach. And it was not just Hugh’s reputation. It was . . . It was . . .
Her.
He drank the rest of the wine in his cup, trying to rid himself of such thoughts and suspicions. And a servant filled it once more. Against his own limits on drinking strong spirits, he finished that cup as well.
Lady Margaret babbled on, not realizing his attention had turned. Lady Adelaide had retired earlier, claiming a sour stomach. Finally, he pushed his cup away and nodded at her.
“It is selfish to keep you here paying attention to only me when you must have things to see to before retiring, Lady Margaret. May I,” he said, rising to his feet and holding out his arm, “escort you to your chambers?”
“Ah, ’tis later than I realized, Sir William,” she said, glancing around and signaling those who served there at table. “No need to escort me. My maid waits outside for me.”
Before she could leave, he asked her a question, trying to phrase it in a way that would not offend. “I thought I saw the blacksmith’s daughter here earlier, my lady. Is she staying here now?”
The effect of his question was clear—the lady’s face went blank and empty except for the slightest clenching of her jaw.
“There is no blacksmith’s daughter in Yester Castle, Sir William.” He would have asked it again, differently, but she gave him no opportunity.
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