“You must protect her,” he said. “I think you are the only one who can. In spite of . . . ”
“In spite of what?” he asked, watching the man struggle to choose his words.
“She is Lord Hugh’s blood, you know?”
“He told me so.” Gavin still did not release him.
“She does not understand the power she holds, Sir William. She did not learn to control it.”
“What power, Gavin?”
“She commands the fire, just like her father does.” When William did not say anything, the blacksmith’s astute gaze studied him. He could tell the moment Gavin knew. “You have seen it, then?” The man let out a breath. “I pray you can help her.”
“Why do you think I can? I am but one knight against your lord, these weapons, and his men. And against the power that he and they have.”
“I think you give yourself too little credit, sir,” Gavin said. “There is something in you that is like them. But you are honorable. I will hold on to my hope that you care for her and that you will be her savior.”
Stunned at this man’s confidence, especially since he, more than most, knew the true resources his lord held, William could only nod. That the man who stood as father to her requested his help, knowing of his attraction to her, meant a great deal. He nodded then, accepting the task that his blood already had.
He could not do this alone, so he saw to his men, but all the while could not get the blacksmith’s words out of his thoughts. Though he had little experience or knowledge in a world where unearthly powers battled with humans, he would never go into any battle unprepared. Knowing what he must do before returning to the castle, William made his way across the valley to the camp where the other watchers were. The man called Marcus walked out to meet him.
“Sir William, welcome,” he said. “You look troubled. How can I serve you?” Marcus motioned to a log where he could sit. With a nod of his head, the man warned off several others standing close by, giving them privacy for this.
“What you said before,” he began. “What happened . . . ? I need to know what happened.”
“We are descended from an ancient people who were faithful to the old gods. Seven bloodlines from the seven gods, and priests to serve and guide them, William.”
“What bloodlines?” William asked.
“You are of the warbloods; Brienne is of the firebloods,” Marcus explained. “There will be five others—waterblood, stormblood, earthblood, sunblood, and beastblood. We know not who they are.”
“You said you knew.”
“We know the legends and the prayers, William. The gods will guide us to those who carry the blood as they brought us here to you and Brienne.”
“And Lord Hugh,” William finished. “Is he a traitor, as the king suspects?” Marcus shuddered at his question.
“Lord Hugh is the truest believer of the goddess who was conquered and exiled. His family has worked and prepared for this moment for more generations than you could count. He knows more than any of us, and he has terrible gifts from the goddess.”
“Tell me of this goddess.” Marcus glanced around at the request, clearly nervous about speaking of this goddess.
“There were seven ancients worshipped as gods and goddesses. Six of them—Belenus, Cernunnos, Taranis, Sucellus, Nantosuelta, and Epona—banded together against the seventh when she decided she would rule over all,” Marcus explained.
“And her name?” William asked.
“Chaela.” Marcus grew more nervous as he spoke the name. “The goddess of fire and destruction and chaos.”
Things were becoming clearer, but William needed more than a lesson in history. He needed to know about what had happened to him.
“What are the powers of a warblood, Marcus? How do I use them, if this is all true?”
“Your success at war is no accident, Sir William,” Marcus said.
“Certainly, it is not. It is through training and experience that I have been successful on the battlefield. Years of training and years more fighting in elite battle groups across Brittany and here in Scotland.”
“I meant no insult, sir,” Marcus said, holding up his hands. “I meant that your blood runs strong and heavy with the skills you need on the battlefield. And more recently, your body changes when you face danger. When she faces danger.”
William stood and walked away, considering this. He’d noticed it from the first sign of the changes. When he’d thought her threatened, his vision and sense of smell had sharpened, his blood had raced, and his body had grown in size and strength. Each time, the reaction was more pronounced.
“Is it linked to Brienne, then? Can I use this only when she is endangered?”
Running his hands through his hair, he wondered what kind of connection was growing between them. Oh, he was attracted to her, drawn by a desire the likes of which he’d not felt before. But there was more. Something deeper, something caring, already existed and grew stronger.
“I am sorry, Sir William,” Marcus said, approaching him and speaking lower. “It has been centuries—nay, longer—since any humans have had and used these powers. We priests have not witnessed such things in a very long time. Though we have heard and studied the legends, I have never practiced making it work with a descendant of the bloodline.”
William shook his head, frustrated that he could not learn what he needed if he was to use this power.
“Try to call it hence.” He turned to look at the self-proclaimed priest of the ancient gods. “Come into the trees where you will not be seen and call upon it.”
He followed the man through the small cluster of tents, already within the trees to a place deeper in the forest. Once they reached a clearing, he turned and faced Marcus.
“I will try to assist you.”
“How?” he asked.
“By praying, of course. Calling on the ancients to lead us, to lead you.”
The blasphemous thought that Marcus’s words were no different from those of the Catholic priests when calling on God entered William’s mind then. Shrugging, for he was no theologian or philosopher to debate such a thing, he walked a few paces away and faced Marcus.
Uncertain of what to do, William closed his eyes and thought about the changes he’d noticed before—his vision changing to red, his blood heating and racing within him, and his body growing stronger and larger. Though he felt silly, he called the warblood forth in his thoughts.
“William?”
He heard the priest speak his name. He opened his eyes and watched him take a step away and then another, nodding as he moved.
His vision held a red tint, and he noticed small creatures and the movement of the trees around him. Inhaling, he smelled the fear in the priest’s blood and then the scent of a deer close by. Glancing down, he saw larger hands covered in blue-tinged skin rather than his. Flexing them, he ached for a weapon and watched as one hand began to change into . . . something else.
“Warblood,” the priest said.
He could hear the pride and wonder in the priest’s voice now. Crossing his hands over his chest, he smiled and nodded. He was the warblood.
And then, as quickly as a passing moment, it faded away.
“Sir William?” Marcus asked as he strode to him. “How did you make that happen?”
“I thought about becoming it, thought about the way my sight and smell and body had changed before, and it began.”
Can it be that simple?
“It is only the beginning. Your power is just rising, so you should practice this,” Marcus advised. “Come when you can and we will continue trying.”
“I think I should bring Roger,” he said. “For your protection if it gets out of my control.”
“Sir William, should the warblood get out of control, it will take much more than one of your human warriors to stop him.”
Then Marcus shrugged and laughed. “Or one woman.”
It all came back to Brienne.
“I will return as I can,” he promised. Things were beginning to move now, and William felt the future pressing hard on them. He must be ready. He must learn.
He left Marcus then and rode back to the castle, waiting for Lord Hugh to make his move, all the while knowing he would. The invitation to share a meal with the lord and his family waited for him on his arrival back in his chamber.
Chapter 18
Brienne heard his call in her head, yet this time without pain. It was unexpected, for it was morning, and it was his custom to train her in the night. She left her chamber for his. Lady Margaret stood in the corridor outside the tower room and glared as Brienne approached. She curtsied before her father’s wife and waited for the insult that always accompanied any encounter between them.
“He is waiting, girl. Hasten to him!” she hissed at her. Then Lady Margaret began calling out orders to the servants who scurried to her side.
Brienne rushed up the steps and knocked before entering. Lord Hugh stood at the window. The sun had won the battle over yesterday’s storms, and its light filled the chamber through the costly glazed window in the wall that looked over the yard. For a moment, she did not see the feared lord but a man filled with regrets. But that was not possible.
“Her name was Jehanne. She was a year younger than you are now when we pledged our love.”
Stunned by the admission, she said the name in her thoughts. Jehanne. Her mother’s name was Jehanne.
“Our families opposed the match, and she was sent away. I was told later she died of a wasting disease,” he said, his voice catching as he spoke. “I did not know you were hers—ours—until I saw the birthmark on your back. She . . .” He turned away and cleared his throat then. “She had the same one in the same place.”
Brienne could not breathe. The truth of her past came rushing at her in a blur. Her parents loved. A forbidden love, stopped by their families. He had not known their connection and now did. Now she did.
Jehanne.
“We firebloods pass our power through our descendants, and my family was part of a plan to protect and preserve our line from ancient days, Brienne. I do not think my father realized your mother carried it as well. Now it is time for you to join our legacy and carry out the next step.”
“I do not understand,” she said. “Legacy? What about Adelaide? She is your legitimate heir and . . . ”
“She cannot be part of this, for she has nothing in her blood but her humanity. Not like you,” he said, walking to her and gazing at her with something she never thought she’d see—pride. “Be at my side; claim your rightful place as our plan moves forward.” He held out his hand to her, and she stared at it.
Her heart beat so fast and hard, Brienne thought it would tear out of her chest. The pain of the past, being forgotten and shamed disappeared then. Everything she’d wanted was being offered to her. A small voice whispered in the back of her mind to have a care, but it mattered not.
“What is this plan, my lord? How can I be part of it?”
He led her to a chair and poured some wine into a cup. Much richer than the ale she usually drank, it was sweet and potent and reminded her of the wine William had offered her. She drank another mouthful and waited on her father’s words.
“We are part of an ancient people, Brienne, descended from the gods whom the Celts worshipped before coming to these islands. We were blessed with their powers so that we could remain faithful to them. But over the centuries the old beliefs have fallen away, and now this other religion seeks to control all. In the north, my grandfather discovered the sacred place where the old gods could be called forth and hid it from those who would destroy it.”
Old gods? Powers? Sacred place? Her head spun from hearing all of this. She was a simple girl, brought up to believe in one God, though now she realized that in her village, no one ever said so publicly. No priest saw to their souls, but she remembered hearing one mentioned from long ago. “Old gods?” she asked.
“Aye, the ancient seven,” he said. A shadow crossed his face as he mentioned them, quickly gone. “Worry not over that now. I can teach you all about them as we travel north. We must gather our friends to us and go there, to protect it once more from destruction.”
“North?” she asked. She knew Lord Hugh held properties in places all over Scotland even if Yester and Gifford were the only two she’d ever seen. She thought on the rest of his words. “But who knows of this and seeks to destroy such a place?” She knew the answer even as she uttered the question. “The king?” she whispered.
“Aye. I have been his closest adviser since his boyhood and knew he sought the place, and I have tried to prevent that. He knows that the legends were true and seeks to destroy what could threaten his control and his kingdom.”
So many questions flooded her mind that she could not sort through them. And then she realized the part she’d missed. The king knew. The king sent . . .
Sir William de Brus, the king’s knight.
“William is part of this, too?” At his nod, her heart fell.
“He is here to spy for the king, who suspects my part in this.” She closed her eyes. “But I plan to explain this and ask for his help.”
“You do?” She stood and walked to where he was. “Do you think he will? Mayhap if he understands?”
“He would be a huge advantage to have on our side. You have seen him fight,” he said. “A warrior like him could help us.”
“He is . . . ?” That little voice whispered not to give too much away. With what she’d witnessed, Brienne suspected he was involved in this more than her father let on.
“He is?”
“Very experienced? In war and fighting?” She shrugged then. “I have not met many men outside the village, my lord. I have nothing to compare him to.”
He nodded, watching her now. Did he suspect what she did about William, or did he know?
“Ah, I forget you have not seen more of the country or the world outside these walls and lands. Aye, he has fought before, in France and here, too, I think. And he is skilled.”
They remained silent for a few minutes, and she thought on everything he’d said. She wanted to be part of her father’s family. She’d longed for such a thing, and now he was offering it to her, asking her to join him in this strange endeavor.
“Is there anything I can do, my lord? To help you?” she asked, making her decision. There was much yet unknown in this, she knew, but she took this step now. He smiled at her, and once more pride was there in his eyes.
“I think if he sees that you are at ease here and part of the larger plan, he might see reason. I will speak to him about specific things, but if you are welcoming to him, it could ease the tension between us.”
“But, my lord,” she began. “It is not my place to do that. Lady Margaret or Lady Adelaide . . . ”
“They will be leaving on the morrow to travel to our holdings in Brittany.” He shrugged then. “My wife failed in her duty, giving me neither a son nor a child of the blood I needed.” Stunned at such a revelation, she gasped. He shook his head and laughed.
“Worry not over them, Brienne. Both will be well compensated with lands and gold. A marriage has already been arranged for Adelaide. They go now to see to it.”
Though she knew of such things, that nobles married for titles, lands, and gold, because she knew the warmth of love, the coldhearted sound of it shocked her.
“So, Jehanne’s daughter, it is good to know that you will be at my side in this grand effort to right past wrongs.” He walked toward the door, and Brienne followed. “We will begin our campaign to bring Sir William to our side at supper. He will dine with us in the family hall. Prepare yourself well.”
With that, he lifted the latch and opened the door, allowing her to
leave. She practically floated down the stairs and along the corridor, ignoring the servants and the noises and everything.
Jehanne’s daughter, he’d called her.
* * *
William followed the servant from the main keep over to where the family and closest retainers lived. His men would eat with the others in the hall. He felt naked, wearing only his eating dagger and no other weapon, and uncomfortable. Though with the number of armed guards scattered around every step of the path they took, unless he was mounted and armored, he would stand no chance of even surviving if they turned on him.
He nodded to several soldiers he’d trained with over the last few days here. Lord Hugh had a core group of warriors who would be formidable in a battle, and William hoped his premonition that he would be the one they fought was wrong. But he’d long ago learned to trust that sense, and it had saved his life many times.
He climbed the steps to a higher story and down a corridor. The chamber they entered was a large one, holding one long table and several smaller ones. This night, only the long table was prepared for use. He’d been escorted to his seat when Lord Hugh arrived . . . with Brienne at his side. His surprise was even greater when Lady Margaret and Lady Adelaide entered behind them. If anyone thought this unusual, they did not show it by expression, glance, or gesture. A few higher servants and companions of the ladies took their places, and everyone waited on Lord Hugh to sit.
William discovered that because it was such a small group, they were seated on both sides of the table instead of all along one side. And it placed him where he could watch and speak to Brienne.
Dressed in a simple but costly gown that nearly matched the shade of her unusual eyes, she was a treat to watch. It was hard to believe that just a week before, this young woman had lived in the village. She spoke quietly with two of the women who served as companions to the women in Lord Hugh’s family. He could not help but smile when her face lit in delight at something she heard.
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