Bond of Blood

by Roberta Gellis

  At last there was no more good reason for delay, and Cain sat down to write his letters. One went to Leah, ordering her to remain in her father's keep. The letter began very sternly, but her sweet face hung before him with tears trembling on the lashes of her wide, innocent eyes. "Be sure," he had written, "to do as I bid you," and now he added, "for I hope to be with you before the wedding guests depart. My labors here have so prospered," Cain continued after careful consideration, "that it is more needful for me to hasten to speak with the king than to quell the Welsh."

  He had said what he had to say, and if Leah was in league with Pembroke, those last words would be a pretty trap for them both. The letter, however, lay open and unsealed while Cain wrote to Chester and Hereford and to his own father describing what had happened and the Welsh rumors regarding Pembroke's intentions. To no one, not even Gaunt, did Cain mention what Llwellyn had told him about his personal involvement in Pembroke's plans. His father would discover the facts soon enough from Sir Robert, if they were facts and not rumors, and from the rest of the world Cain had every desire to hide the facts. Pembroke's shame, now that a blood bond existed between them, was his as well through Leah. Leah—his eyes slid back to the open letter and he reached for it, re-read it, made a gesture of casting it aside, and then hastily rolled and sealed it and thrust it into the bag with the others.

  Four days later, Lord Radnor rode once again across the drawbridge and into the keep that held his wife. All the way from Penybont, he had wondered how much of his message Leah would have transmitted to her father. The stunned face that Pembroke turned to him when they met in the courtyard gave the answer. Obviously Leah had told her father nothing—not even that her husband was on his way back.

  "Where have you been?" Pembroke gasped. "To where did you go? Your father would say nothing except that you were mad and given to such disappearances."

  Momentarily Cain could make no answer because his wife was hanging on his neck and he was fully occupied with soothing her. Leah's slight body trembled pathetically, and she pressed herself frantically against her husband, shying sidelong as her father approached them.

  "Gently, gently, dear heart," Cain protested, wincing as Leah squeezed his hurt side. "I am battle-sore. How now, what a greeting for a week's absence. If I am gone two weeks I shall be afraid to come home lest I should be hugged to death. Look up. Come, do. I swore I would come soon and safely, and here I am."

  "So the little bitch knew where you were," Pembroke snarled, unwisely laying a hand on Leah's shoulder.

  In the next moment he was picking himself up from the ground five feet away. Gaunt, who had entered through the bailey gate, began to help Pembroke dust himself off. "Restrain your ebullience in greeting, Cain," he said dryly. "I am forever telling you that you do not know your own strength. If you wish to pat a man, do so. Do not knock him down."

  "I am very sorry," Radnor said stiffly. "I do forget. I have been known to kill a man with kindness."

  It was impossible that Pembroke should accept such an excuse or miss the warning in the last statement, yet he certainly seemed to do so. He returned to clasp Radnor's hand warmly, ignoring his shuddering daughter, and to press him to come in to dinner, which was just being laid on the tables. Cain's nostrils flared as if he were seeking the scent of an unclean beast, but he followed readily and even sat down beside Pembroke to eat. He began to describe his sojourn in Wales with genuine pleasure, watching for the signs of discomfiture he was sure Pembroke could not completely conceal. The effort, however, was totally unrewarded, Pembroke nodded unqualified approval.

  "The only thing I cannot like," he said, "is your leaving so many of your men behind you. You have not a large enough troop now to guard yourself properly. I would advise you to wait until they can be returned to you before you go to London."

  "No," Radnor replied softly, his eyes flickering with amusement under their fringe of lashes. Pembroke was a fool to lay such an open snare. "My business with the king is most urgent, concerning as it does the peace of Wales."

  "Then why do you not take some of my men with you? I do not go to this council. I am growing old and find such jaunts too much for me. You, I know, will guard my interests, since they are also yours now. But you should not take Leah with you. Nay, do not frown at me. Do but think of how that girl acted today. She is simple! She will blab all your business to everyone who exchanges a word with her."

  "She will not know my business."

  "Oh, very well. I am not going to quarrel with you over a chit of a girl, but if you take her with you, you will need a house in London. You cannot camp with a woman in your train."

  Cain frowned. He had not thought of that, but it was perfectly true. "She will have to put up with a camp, or perhaps she can stay with Leicester until I have a place."

  "Nonsense," Pembroke said. "I have a house in London and there is no reason at all why you should not stay there."

  "I thought you had sold that house to Oxford."

  "No, I rented it to him, but for my own son-by-marriage he cannot refuse to give the place up. You will, of course, have to return the rental to him, but that cannot signify to you."

  The hair at the nape of Radnor's neck prickled as if he were expecting to be ambushed from behind. To give himself thinking space he choked on the roast venison he was eating, reached for his wine, and drank, coughing occasionally. Surely Pembroke could not be so mad as to attack him during a baronial conference; he had too many powerful friends. What was the purpose of this sudden burst of friendliness? What benefit could accrue to Pembroke from placing him in any particular house in London?

  "If there is time," Radnor agreed warily, "and you would be so good, it would save my looking about."

  "No trouble at all. I will send a messenger to Oxford tonight. You will no doubt come in to London by the Oxford road so that you will pass his keep. If you stay the night there, Oxford can give you the keys and tell you how to find the place and you will have but two easy days' journey into London."

  Radnor closed his eyes altogether at this statement. Ambush on the road? Very possible, but Pembroke knew what route he would take since it was the only one possible without all this elaborate arrangement. Murder at Oxford Castle? That too was possible. How interesting! This was going to change a dull trip into a battle of nerves and wits. Radnor opened his eyes very wide as he heard Pembroke ask sympathetically if he felt unwell.

  "Not at all, not at all."

  "That is very good. I thought you had grown faint suddenly."

  "No," Radnor replied, smiling broadly, "I was but considering how kind all men are to me."

  Oddly enough he was speaking the literal truth, for Pembroke had told him, unintentionally, something that was far more important to him than information concerning the time or place of his own assassination. If Pembroke still did not wish Leah to go to London, then she was no part of his plan except as the heir to his estates. His assumption was confirmed when Edwina bore down upon him shortly after dinner.

  "You are scarcely ever to be found alone, Lord Radnor."

  Cain's brows rose. What need had Edwina to find him alone?

  "I wished to speak to you about Leah," she continued.

  Radnor had little desire to be told how to manage his affairs by his mother-by-marriage, but he was much interested in what she had to say. "I am here now," he said encouragingly.

  "Gilbert says you are still determined to take Leah to London tomorrow."

  "Yes."

  "Do you think that is wise? She—"

  "Yes."

  "Forgive me, Lord Radnor, but she will be perfectly safe here, while at court … She is so young. Her head has already been turned by these festivities."

  "I had not noticed."

  "Again I ask your pardon for differing with you, but you must acknowledge that I know Leah longer and perhaps better than you do. She used to be a docile, sweet-tempered girl, but of late she is grown very willful and disobliging."

  "No
t to me."

  "No, not yet, of course, but if you indulge her—"

  "You should be pleased."

  "I look to the future. Now when she is young these tricks and quirks are charming. You may not find them so later. There is something more important. If she is already with child, such a trip will likely destroy it, and if she is not she may get ideas that are bad for your succession."

  Radnor's eyes shifted. He had not thought that Leah might be breeding yet, and there was now no woman he could ask for advice. Well, if she conceived so readily, she would conceive again. Surely it was too soon and the mother knew it. Pembroke had put her up to this, no doubt, but Cain was tired of listening.

  "Madam," he said, "her training would be sadly at fault if the court could teach her such lewdness in a few short weeks. Moreover, I intend to guard her well and use her well. She will have neither the chance nor the strength to betray me." He laughed coarsely. "I do not take Leah for her convenience, but for my own."

  In the dim light of the one shaded candle, Leah's face looked pinched and pale as she peered around the room. She did not think there was anything that remained to be done. All of her new clothes and other scanty possessions were packed in wicker baskets suitable for the portage animals. Her husband's clothing was similarly disposed. The garments he would wear for traveling were laid out—the inevitable shirt and chausses, rough homespuns in the greyish tan common to unbleached wool, a tunic, also homespun, the mail shirt that was essential protection for everyday travel in England in these times, and the old worn brown velvet surcoat.

  The mail shirt had been brought to her by a courteous young knight with pleasant, easy manners who had introduced himself as Harry Beaufort. He had stayed to talk for a time, telling her about the battle at Penybont, which Cain had shrugged off when she asked. Helmet, shield and other minor armor were still in Sir Harry's care and would be delivered to Radnor just before they mounted up to leave. That was all then. Leah looked around as another restless movement made the bed creak.

  Cain had slept very heavily for a time right after their lovemaking, leaving Leah trembling, near tears, and wide awake. He had been very slow, deliberately holding back to savor his own sensations and Leah's response, playing and playing with her until she had been driven to scratch him and bite the hard, scarred mouth that tormented her so pleasantly. Too soon after that, however, he had rolled away.

  Leah had been almost frantic with desire to keep him with her. What she wanted, she did not know, but the feeling that possessed her could not keep mounting and mounting. At some point the tension and passion had to burst. The bursting might kill her, Leah thought, so intense was the sensation becoming, but at the moment that death would have been welcome compared with being left as she was. Forbidden to touch Cain lest she disturb him, afraid to weep for the same reason, Leah had crept softly out of bed to work off her nervous energy by finishing her packing for the next day's trip.

  Now her husband was restless, moving uneasily back and forth across the bed. Leah blew out the candle and returned to him. She was tired and quiet now and could sleep the few remaining hours until morning. A groping hand seized her and drew her close.

  "Lord," Cain's voice was thick with sleep, "what a nightmare. I dreamt you were lost and I could not find you."

  Leah pulled Radnor's heavy head on to her shoulder. His beard, thickly grown, scraped her tender skin, but the sleepy words had assuaged some indefinable hurt and Leah was happy again.

  "Get up, you little slut," said a husky, friendly voice, and Leah sat up with a start, pushing her hair out of her face. Her husband was smiling broadly. "I never saw such a lazy, naughty chit. You mauled me worse than a bear last night. And now I have called you three times and all you do is bury your head deeper in the pillow." Awkward with tenderness, he sat down beside her to play with her hair and touch her sleepy face with his fingertips. "If you are not up, washed, and dressed quicker than a lamb can shake its tail, I will leave you behind." Unfortunately for his husbandly discipline he immediately destroyed any effect his statement might have had by kissing her.

  "Oh, Cain," Leah said, disengaging her lips, "do you have needles and thread?"

  "What?"

  "Needles and thread, my lord. If we stay above a few days in London, I must have the wherewithal to sew."

  "Now what would I do with needles and thread?" He laughed. "Ask your mother."

  Leah blushed and Cain was diverted by watching the colour dye her throat just stopping short of her white breasts. "I—I cannot. Needles are so expensive and my father— It would be so hard for her to replace them."

  "Oh." Cain's face had become carefully expressionless. "Very well. I will see what can be done. Get up now." He turned to the maids who had slept in a little separate area just outside the door and had come into the room when they heard the sound of his stirring. Leah had made it plain to them that their duties had begun and if either she or his lordship had to send for them she would skin them alive. They had been waiting quietly in a corner since they had finished attending to Radnor's needs.

  "Get your mistress dressed, and quickly too." He started to walk away, looked at the maids again, and turned back to Leah. "What ails those girls of yours that they leap like scared rabbits every time I look at them or speak to them?"

  Leah smothered a giggle. "They are afraid of you, my lord."

  "That is plain enough, but why? What have I done to them?"

  Could she tell her husband that her maids feared he was the devil incarnate? Leah dropped her eyes to hide her own sudden resurgence of fear and said slowly, "A woman does not need a particular reason to be wary of a man in this house."

  "Well, tell them to stop it," Cain replied crossly. "It makes me feel like jumping myself when they jerk about so." Leah's fleeting terror vanished but the poor maids' terror increased manyfold.

  By the time he reached the great hall, however, he was smiling faintly once more. The room was relatively empty, for he had chosen to leave earlier than the remaining guests, but his father was waiting for him as arranged on the previous evening. As they walked aside to be as private as possible, the Earl covertly studied his son. Radnor was still dreadfully thin, but there was a relaxation in his expression that changed his face.

  Gaunt saw that the large dark eyes with a lingering smile in them were hers, now nearly thirty years dead, and Radnor's mouth, softened by some inner joy and security where it was not marred by battle scars, was also his mother's. In the harsh, angular planes of the face, Gaunt saw his own heritage to his son. Why did he torment this man, flesh of his flesh? His legs went weak with a sudden memory of his own father and a pang of regret for that relationship not repeated with his child. Cain caught his arm.

  "Father!"

  "The lame are now supporting the old rather than leading the blind?" The bitter words were habit. Gaunt himself was surprised by them.

  Radnor's fingers tightened brutally on his father's elbow and then relaxed. "Ay, I am lame and you are old, and yet it may be that the well-doing of our country rests upon us. Let's do it, father, and spare me today your tongue—nay, spare yourself. Today your tongue touches me not. First, you had my letter about Sir Robert of Radnor?"

  "Ay. I am glad you had sense enough not to drive him out at once. He holds an important place and many plans must have been opened to him before he agreed to betray us. I will squeeze what he knows out of him, never fear."

  "I do not fear for that. Spare his lady, she is—"

  "How you grow soft! Nay, do not fear for that either. I do not make war upon women unless it be needful."

  "You have heard Chester, father? Have you tried to reason with him? The matter—"

  "Neither heard nor tried the impossible, but I heard Hereford at great length. Cain, I can see no way to stop them. They must fall into the pit of their own digging."

  "No, they must not. Hereford I will save because I love him, but with Chester, Fitz Richard falls—and the Welsh rumor that his lands w
ill go to Pembroke. How they know of these things is a mystery to me, but they are too often right to doubt."

  "I bid you stand clear. Do you think me a fool? I have been listening. Pembroke has, I can guess, a promise—mayhap even written—from Stephen to cede him the lands, but Maud will not let Stephen do it. Philip says …" Gaunt's voice hesitated as a spasm crossed his son's face, spoiling for a moment the repose that had made the eyes beautiful. "I have no intent to fret you, my son, but I must speak of him."

  Cain nodded and leaned his massive shoulders against the rough-hewn stones of the huge, empty fireplace. If Philip were dead, he could have borne it better; it was the hopeless slipping away that tore his heart. Then his eyes took on a softer expression. The last time his father had called him son was when his face had been laid open a few years before and the pain, which would not let him eat or sleep, had finally set wide the door to madness. It had been then that his father, struggling to hold him whom no one else dared touch for fear of his strength, had said over and over. "Be quiet, my son," and once, perhaps, "my dear son."

  "Philip says," Gaunt was continuing, "that Maud has been turning her eyes toward Wales. What I fear is that she seeks to trap Pembroke and, through him, us, into this treason of Chester's. If we all fall she thinks, not knowing the Welsh, that she may set whom she wills in our places, surround and destroy Gloucester, and destroy all hopes of the Angevin succeeding. That is why I say if it comes to open treason you must stand clear. If you can stop Hereford privately, suit yourself. Nothing will stop Chester. I know his foolhardiness, but if we remain safe mayhap we can save him later. It can do neither Hereford nor Chester any good if their last powerful friends fall too."

  "Very well. Your will falls with mine in all matters except that of Hereford. To the limit of my ableness, I will do as you say."