“I’m sure you are. Let’s go lay down for a bit.” Alyna pushed aside her troubled thoughts and smiled at her son, grateful he hadn’t been hurt worse.
“Royce is nice,” he said as she carried him up the stairs. “I like him.”
“Me, too,” she admitted with a heavy sigh, wishing it weren’t true.
***
Royce left the keep, unable to contain his smile. What a delight Alyna was. A more intelligent and beautiful lady he could not envision. Never before had he felt quite like this about a woman. He was attracted to her in a way that was difficult to describe. Lust? Certainly. But there was something else involved. More than just his body reacted when she was near. Somehow, she seemed to lift the darkness trapped deep within him since his parents’ death.
Nicholas was a delight as well. There was something about the boy that was different. Royce had known few children to compare him to but knew Nicholas was unique. His smile could brighten the darkest chamber. He looked at a person and seemed to truly see what their soul held. When Royce thought of a son of his own, he was hard pressed to picture any child other than Nicholas.
Royce shook his head at his fanciful thoughts. The next thing he knew, he’d be thinking of some sort of future with them. His uncle had long ago stolen his future.
Relief that Nicholas hadn’t been more seriously injured lightened his heart. Edward had made two mistakes now with disastrous consequences, and Royce would tolerate no more. Though tempted to throw the man out on his ass, nothing could be done in Lord Blackwell’s absence.
But perhaps it would be wise to keep Edward close at hand so he could better watch him. Many things were unsettled at the moment, and he didn’t want to add anything more to the mix. The thieves had been quiet of late, but Royce was certain someone at Northe Castle had fed them information. Lord Blackwell would return soon, hopefully with news of Tegmont, and they would be able to better plan their strategy for the weeks ahead.
Royce scanned the bailey, the thought of finding Edward foremost on his mind. He spotted Hugh striding toward him from the garrison.
“How fares Nicholas?” Hugh asked, concern creasing his brow.
“He should be fine, no thanks to Edward.”
Hugh shook his head. “That man is a waste of skin and bones. I say we dispose of him anon.”
“You won’t hear an argument from me. But we had best wait for Blackwell to return.” Royce continued toward the stables, and Hugh matched his stride.
“Then our wait will soon be over, for he returns this eve. He sent Roger ahead to let us know.”
“Do we know if his mission was successful?”
“It appears the plot was foiled, but Roger could tell me little more.”
Royce nodded. Even though Roger and several others had accompanied Lord Blackwell, they did not know the true purpose of their journey.
A chill crept through Royce, washing away the warmth from his interlude with Alyna and Nicholas. “I am most anxious to hear all Lord Blackwell has discovered.” Royce paused and held Hugh’s gaze. “These are dangerous times, my friend. I would tell you that it would not disappoint me in the least if you prefer to step away from all this. It is not your battle to fight.”
Without hesitation, Hugh said, “You couldn’t leave me behind if you tried. It is far past time for your uncle to pay for his sins.”
Royce couldn’t agree more and knowing Hugh was at his side brought him comfort. What made a man choose to betray his own brother? That question had kept Royce awake many nights. Tegmont had coveted everything his older brother had, including his wife. How could two brothers raised in the same household with the same parents turn out so differently?
The answer mattered not. All that mattered was making his uncle rue the day he’d betrayed his only brother. “Indeed, it is long past time for him to pay.”
“What does Alyna know of the situation?”
A pang of guilt struck Royce. He pushed it aside, reassuring himself all would be well. Their secrecy regarding Royce’s relationship to Tegmont and Lord Blackwell’s whereabouts had been in her best interest. The less she knew, the safer she would be. “Very little at this point.”
Hugh shook his head. “Do you think that wise? She is Tegmont’s betrothed and part of this. She deserves the truth.”
Royce heaved a sigh, for he could not shake his guilt completely. Hugh was right, but it was too late now. “The situation will be resolved soon.”
“I hope so, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“If only I had a coin for each time you told me that.”
“If only I had one for each time I was right,” Hugh added with a smile and a slap on Royce’s shoulder.
“Have you been consulting Gunnell for your predictions?”
Hugh shuddered in response. “Nay. Have you seen the look that comes upon her face just before she says something...odd? It’s the strangest thing.”
“Is it the look on her face that causes you angst or fear that she’ll say something you’d rather not hear?” Royce was curious to hear Hugh’s response.
“I put little credence in what she says, but the whole business seems unnatural to me.”
Yesterday, Royce would’ve agreed with him. But after today’s events, he was revising his opinion of both Gunnell and Nicholas.
***
“How could this have happened?” Blackwell demanded. The lord had arrived after dusk, and the evening meal had been served long ago. The deserted hall allowed them some privacy as he and Royce had much to discuss.
“Difficult to understand, isn’t it?” Royce gave Lord Blackwell a chance to absorb the information regarding Edward’s misdeeds.
“Nicholas is all right? And Matthew as well?”
“Nicholas’s injuries were minor and Matthew is on the mend. All will be well despite Edward’s actions.”
“What was he thinking?” Lord Blackwell kept his voice low, as did Royce.
“Therein lies the question. Was he simply not thinking and these situations were accidents or did he have ill intent?” Royce shrugged, unable to answer the question.
“What does Edward have to say for himself?”
“He says Matthew was not concentrating during training and should he make a mistake like that on the battlefield, he would be dead instead of merely injured.”
“Ah, so it wasn’t his fault.”
Royce smiled. The older man was obviously tired from his journey, but his mind was as sharp as ever. “Indeed.”
“What of the incident with Nicholas?”
“He claims he didn’t see the boy and questioned why the lad was near the stables.”
“Not his fault again. I believe I see a pattern here.” He took a long sip from the tankard of ale before him and sighed with satisfaction. “And how fares Alyna?”
Royce shifted in his seat, remembering his encounter with her earlier that day. He cleared his throat and tried to gather his thoughts. “She seemed upset that you left so abruptly. She thought perhaps you’d gone to meet with her father.”
Lord Blackwell’s amber eyes narrowed as he thought over Royce’s comments. “I believe the time has come to explain the situation to her.”
Royce nodded. He couldn’t agree more. “She did a fine job tending Matthew. I’m convinced his recovery should be attributed to her.”
“She has knowledge of the healing arts then?”
“Aye. She acquired some supplies and assistance from Gunnell. They have formed a friendship of sorts.”
“Alyna is much like her mother, God rest her soul.” Lord Blackwell rubbed his hand over his eyes. “Any other news to report?”
“All else is well. I am most anxious to hear how your mission went.” Royce inhaled slowly, tamping down the impatience that flooded him.
“Lord Pimbroke was surprised to see me, as you might expect. He demanded to know how I’d discovered the attack on his life.”
“Your knowledge of it must’ve seemed suspicious.”
; “He accused me first of plotting the attack, then of spying on him.”
Royce leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table. “I assume you were able to convince him otherwise.”
“After a lively argument. Then I told him all we know and all we suspect. He’d heard rumors of the barons disloyal to the king, but didn’t realize he would be one of their targets. He finally grasped how effective it would be to sway others from their loyalty to the king if those most steadfast were eliminated.”
Royce’s tension eased. If Pimbroke believed them, they might yet succeed. “He understands they’ll try again?”
“He thought the notion ridiculous until a tradesman arrived to sell his wares. The man mentioned how he came upon a large group of men in the woods near the road Pimbroke normally takes between his holdings. We took some men and found the place. It appeared ten to twelve men with horses had been camped in the area, scattered through the woods on both sides of the road for two or three days.”
“An ambush?” Royce asked.
Blackwell nodded. “Pimbroke was shocked to say the least. To discover evidence of a large group hiding on his land was alarming. He intends to speak to King Henry as soon as possible.”
“Will that be enough to convince the king?”
Lord Blackwell pursed his lips. “Lord Pimbroke says the king already knows of the unrest among the barons and their unhappiness with his interest in his wife’s family and their affairs. Yet he continues to grant favors to foreigners rather than the English nobility. With all the information combined and Pimbroke’s opinion, mayhap the king will take action.”
Royce pondered the situation. “I have to wonder what scared off that group of men.”
“I wondered the same. It wasn’t us. They’d been gone nearly half a day before we arrived.”
“I’m convinced there’s an informer in our midst. Hugh and I will make some discreet inquiries to determine who knew you left Northe Castle and why. Some casual conversation might provide us with results.”
“Excellent idea.” Blackwell leaned closer. “Royce, it will take some time for Lord Pimbroke to reach King Henry. He feels this is something about which he needs to speak to the king personally. He’ll have to convince the king of the validity of our case, and then he’ll need time to form a plan.”
“I am well aware the situation is larger than Tegmont. Much more is at stake than my regaining Larkspur.”
Lord Blackwell nodded in agreement. “Tegmont’s taking of Larkspur was only part of the barons’ plans. It placed one of their own into a position of power, something they’ve done over the years to increase their hold over the kingdom. They must be stopped soon, or it will be too late.”
Royce sighed, more disappointed than he cared to admit. He might not need the king’s approval to take back Larkspur, but it was certainly necessary to keep it. He had no choice. He had to wait, as Lord Blackwell suggested. Patience would still behoove him. At least, he prayed it would.
Somehow, he had the suspicion that waiting for King Henry would take far longer than he could afford.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Betony can protect one from bad dreams.”
Lady Catherine’s Herbal Journal
The acrid smell of smoke stung Royce’s nostrils and burned deep in his lungs, bringing him from a peaceful dream to the familiar but still terrifying nightmare. Dragging himself from the comfort of his warm bed, he fell to the floor where cool, clean air greeted him.
“Mother? Father?” he called out weakly. Where were they?
Still coughing from the smoke, he hurried to the door and wrenched it open, determined to find them. His heart stopped at the sight of flames crawling up the walls of the adjoining chamber but he moved onward. His eyes watered from the thick, dark smoke that blocked his vision and filled his lungs.
“Mother? Father?” he called again, louder this time. He reached the top of the stairs, certain he heard voices in the hall below. Why hadn’t they come for him? Surely he would be safe if he could reach them. He slid down the rough, wooden stairs, beckoned by the sound of their voices.
His mother’s scream brought him to a halt, sending tremors of fear through him. Determined to save her from whatever monster held her in its grasp, he rushed toward the hall but a body on the floor blocked his path.
His father lay in a stream of blood, eyes staring lifelessly, his hand fisted on the hilt of his sword still in its scabbard. Cold fingers of fear wound their way around Royce’s heart. “Father?”
“Royce!” The sound of his mother’s voice tore his gaze from the horrible sight, only to see another–his uncle gripped her tightly, a dagger at her throat. Her terrified blue eyes pleaded with Royce even more than her words as she struggled to break free. “Run, Royce!”
As he stood paralyzed by fright, his uncle turned into a hideous devil and drew the blade across her throat. The movement stopped her screams in an instant. Lifeless, her gaze released Royce as she slid to the floor.
The devil chuckled with glee and turned toward Royce, bloody knife still in hand, the fire burning all around him.
The screaming started again. A glance at his mother proved the sound did not come from her. He looked back at the devil and knew he had to find the courage to stop him. He stepped back, nearly tripping over his father’s body. He grabbed the sword from his father’s hand and pulled it free of the scabbard. The rose crystal in its pommel shone up at him as though to tell him he did the right thing.
The fire roared, its noise deafening, but the cold steel of his father’s weapon lent him strength. He stepped forward, arms trembling, and lifted the heavy sword. The fire billowed across the timber above him, and the ceiling caved in.
At last, the screaming stopped.
***
Royce woke with a start, chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath and rid his lungs of the burning pain that lingered every time he relived that terrible night of long ago.
“Damn,” he swore softly, rubbing a hand over the tightness in his chest.
As he grew older, the nightmare came less often, but always with the same effect. Terrible, wrenching pain. Pain from the loss of his parents, pain from the beam crushing his young body. And when he woke, he experienced the same feeling of loss; a grief so deep, it tore at his soul.
He didn’t remember anything after the timber had fallen on him. Henry, a loyal servant, had managed to save him though his uncle had left him to die in that fire. Henry had hidden him until he’d recovered from his injuries, at least the physical ones. The emotional ones had been more difficult to overcome.
Henry had helped Royce find safe haven with an old lord who took him in as a page and then trained him as a squire. As the years passed, his skills with weaponry grew as had his determination to become a knight, one strong enough and clever enough to seek revenge and take back the holding his uncle had stolen. Thanks to both Henry and the lord who had taken him in, opportunities to improve his skills had come his way.
Soon, after years of planning, vengeance would be his. The nightmare would fade to peaceful memories of his parents. No more would he relive the night that had forever changed his life.
The dream came only when something heavy weighed on his mind. What had brought it on this night?
Knowing sleep had come to an end, he rose and donned his chausses, moving quietly so as not to disturb the men slumbering nearby. He stepped out of the garrison into the cool night air and drew a deep breath, trying to clear the bad dream. The full moon lit the area around him and out of habit, he scanned the bailey to make certain all was well.
He caught the scent of something pleasantly familiar and sniffed the night air again. Lavender. The same fragrance Alyna carried with her. Thoughts of her drifted to him along with the scent and softened the sense of loss the dream had left behind. Quick on its heels was a flare of desire. Blast the woman for smelling of that sweet flower.
Hell’s teeth, it was not just her scent, but the way she loo
ked, the way she moved. Had she been put in his path to tempt him and prove how truly weak he was? He shook his head at his fanciful thoughts.
He’d promised himself the best thing to do was to stay far away from her, but what had he done? Sought her out with the flimsiest of excuses. Touched her. Kissed her. He could not keep his hands off her. Should she stand before him at this very moment, he’d do much more than that. He clenched his jaw at the thought.
The reason he’d had the nightmare came, and at last, he acknowledged it. Hadn’t he been distracted from his carefully laid plans of revenge by Alyna? How could he consider acting on his feelings for her when he hadn’t yet made good on his vow for his mother and father?
He could not.
They deserved justice and it was up to him to deliver it. His focus had to return to where it belonged–on Tegmont. He fingered the amulet he wore around his neck, the one Henry had taken from his mother’s body and given to him. His father’s sword and his mother’s amulet were all he had left of them and served as constant reminders of his purpose.
The feelings he had for Alyna were nothing more than lust. He’d felt lust before. If he chose not to act on it, it would soon fade. While he was more taken with her than any woman he’d met, that could be changed. He was in control. And while Nicholas made him think of the day when he’d have children of his own, now was not the time for that.
If he allowed these feelings for Alyna and Nicholas to grow, he would lose the focus and edge he needed. These tender feelings would make him vulnerable. Soft. Distracted. There was no room in his heart for anything save vengeance.
He breathed deeply again and caught another scent in the night air. Smoke. Bells of alarm rang in his head. The smell came not from his nightmare, nor from the direction of the keep, but from outside the curtain wall.
He ran back inside, rousing the men as he threw on his tunic, grabbed his sword, and rushed back out to climb to the walkway atop the curtain wall.
The sight below enraged him. Moonlight revealed men on horseback tossing lighted torches onto the thatched roofs of cottages where innocent villagers slept. Without hesitation, he called his battle cry, knowing it would bring the men running. The thieves below stopped their destruction at the sound of his call.
A VOW TO KEEP (The Vengeance Trilogy) Page 17
