As the day passed in to night, Brogan drew closer to the man who would slip Avalyn away from Aubrey.
Guerdley Cross
May, 1469
Merseyside was a lush land with rolling hills and herds of livestock dotting the landscape. May was a particularly lovely month, as the spring chill was just starting to wear off and the temperatures were becoming more moderate. Green lands stretched to the horizon and the brisk sea breeze blew in every evening, filling the air with the scent of salt. It was a beautiful place if one was inclined to that sort of pleasure, a land of peace and tranquility in a country that had known little of both.
The castle of Guerdley Cross was an exceptionally wealthy establishment in a populated fiefdom that stretched to the sea. The castle was a massive structure with twenty foot thick walls, four squatty towers, and a three-storied keep that sat atop a forty-foot tall motte. Several outbuildings sat in the enormous bailey including stables, barracks, and a variety of other trades. Built by John Stone Aubrey more than one hundred years before, it was a busy, functional castle that protected a heavy population of peasants.
With the beauty and wealth of it, Avalyn should have been at least moderately content. There was nothing she wanted for. Charles, having demonstrated himself a true gentleman during the weeks of their association, had been inordinately kind and patient with her since their arrival. Aside from asking when she wished to set a wedding date, he never asserted himself and was always quick to obey her wishes. It had been clear from the onset which one of them was in control of their relationship, and it wasn’t Charles. All Avalyn had to do was say a word and he would move heaven and earth to do her bidding.
Since arriving at Guerdley Cross a little over three weeks ago, Avalyn’s routine had not varied much; she would rise in the morning, eat alone, then spend most of the day either sewing in Charles’ solar or walking with Inglesbatch. Charles had developed a strong dislike for the de Neville knight simply because the man was never far from Avalyn and she seemed to like it that way. Charles could order him away, which he had done many a time, but Avalyn would wonder on his whereabouts and eventually Inglesbatch would return. It was a very odd situation, one that Charles had been meaning to broach with the lady but had yet to summon the courage. She was standoffish enough as it was and he did not want to further distance her.
On this particular day, Avalyn was in Charles’ solar, which was now more her solar, working a piece of needlepoint on a large wooden frame. It was a hunting scene, something she wasn’t particularly fond of but was attempting to do it for Charles. She knew she had been distant and she furthermore knew that he was becoming discouraged with her lack of interest in him. Though she had no intention of letting the man any closer to her than he already was, it did not mean that she wasn’t beyond some measure of pity for him. And she felt guilty. He was trying very hard to be pleasant to her but she made it clear that she had no use for him.
Moreover, her mood was dark these days. It had been a little over three weeks since she had arrived in Merseyside and, still, Brogan had not made an appearance. She was beginning to wonder if he had indeed forgotten about her, or worse, something had happened to him. The days grew darker and her mood grew more sullen, though she tried not to let her turmoil show. Only Inglesbatch had an idea of what was happening with her, but William had his own duties and worries at the moment, the primary concern being to stay in Aubrey’s good graces. The man was showing strong signs of jealousy and William continued to walk a very fine line with the man. Each day was becoming more of a challenge.
Thel and Aggie sat with Avalyn in the solar on this bright morning, combing through clusters of dyed wool in preparation for placing in upon the loom. Aggie had demonstrated quite a talent on the loom, as her own mother had been a seamstress, so Avalyn had put her on the spindle. Thel wasn’t much talented at anything and Avalyn had tried to teach her the finer points of embroidery, to which she had poked her fingers more than the material. Now she simply combed wool.
Inglesbatch found the ladies in the solar some time before noon. Avalyn caught sight of him first, followed by Thel. Thel’s face lit up when she saw him, though she tried to hide it. She’d harbored a growing interest in William since meeting him, something he hadn’t paid much attention to. So she put her head back down the moment he entered the room, not wanting him to see the attraction and disappointment in her eyes.
“My lady,” William greeted Avalyn pleasantly. “How does this day find you?”
Avalyn speared the fabric with a needle, working it through. “Well enough,” she said, concentrating on not stabbing herself. “Where have you been all morning?”
William didn’t reply right away. When Avalyn looked up at him, he beckoned to her with a crooked finger and began moving to the window. Curious, she secured the needle and rose from her loom. She followed William all the way to the window. He pointed from the lancet opening, in the direction of the stables.
“I’ve been observing as St. John in his dealings with a bachelor knight,” he said quietly.
At first, neither his words nor his tone registered. Avalyn peered from the window, seeing the butt of a fat dappled charger in the distance. She could see some activity around the animal, soldiers and grooms moving about, but nothing out of the ordinary until a massive body moved into her line of sight. And then, it hit her; she knew that form.
In a heartbeat, her anxiety and excitement soared and she emitted a small cry. The golden eyes were wide with astonishment.
“He’s here,” she hissed, turning to William when the figure once again moved out of her line of sight. “Is it really him?”
William nodded, shushing her. Walls had ears around this place, as he had seen in his short time here. “You must be very careful, Avalyn,” he whispered. “He has come as Sir Tygor. That is all you will know him by when you are introduced. Never mention anything else, ever. Is that clear?”
She nodded emphatically, tears springing to her eyes. Her heart was thumping loudly against her ribs, her hands shaking with anticipation. For twenty-two days she had progressively slipped into the world of despair, all to have it lifted in one swift moment. It was almost more than she could bear and she quickly blinked away the moisture filling her eyes. She could hardly believe it.
“Have you spoken to him?” she grasped William’s hand eagerly. “Is he well?”
“I was introduced to him,” William said quietly. His round blue eyes moved to the scene beyond the window. “He came last night to beg audience from Aubrey.”
“Last night? I heard nothing of this. When did he come?”
“It was late,” he replied. “You had already retired. As we know, you do not spend an over amount of time with Aubrey if you can help it, so the baron was in the great hall with St. John and a few other men when he arrived.”
Her eyes widened. “So Barton has seen him, has he? I was not sure if he knew him on sight. Did he…?”
William shook his head, cutting her off. “St. John did not know him. All is well on that account.”
By this time, Thel and Aggie had joined them at the window. When William saw the overt attention, he quietly shooed the women back to what they were doing. Avalyn was still staring out of the window, trying to catch another glimpse of Brogan. William could see the emotion on her face, realizing he was not over his jealousy as he had once thought. He’d spent three weeks with Avalyn, sometimes spending up to twelve solid hours a day with her, and he realized that he had been very greedy. He did not want to give that up. Now he was going to have to come to grips with Brogan’s reappearance and, already, it was a struggle.
“William,” Avalyn put her hand on his arm again; he looked at the hand, fighting off the feelings it provoked. “Do…do you think it would be strange if we were to take a walk to the stables right now? Would that be out of the ordinary? We can say that I simply want to check on my colt. He’s not been happy since we arrived.”
“It would not be strange for you t
o check on your colt,” he said. “But you must not react to Tygor. You have never met the man. Remember?”
“I know.” She suddenly smoothed at her luscious hair, in yet another elaborate arrangement thanks to Aggie’s skill. “How do I look?”
William gazed at her; the woman had only grown more beautiful in the past three weeks. In a pale green silk surcoat that clung almost indecently to her slender waist and round breasts, she was a sight to behold.
“You look lovely,” he told her, a hint of wistfulness in his tone. He held up his arm. “Shall we go?”
With a tremulous smile, eyes alight with anticipation, she put her hand on his elbow and followed him from the solar.
The entry to the keep was a big, round room with a small alcove just next to the entry door. Dogs milled about, scattering out of the way when Avalyn and William passed through. The day outside was bright and sunny, cool with early spring and smelling of the distant sea. When the descended the retractable wooden steps and reached the dark earth of the bailey, Avalyn spoke.
“Tell me what Charles knows of him.”
William set a casual pace; left up to Avalyn, she probably would have run the entire way. “He came last night and told the baron that he was a bachelor knight in search of a House. He presented Aubrey with an impressive patins, though I have no idea where he got such a thing. It says that he is a Germanic knight having served in the House of Hesse, Earl of Saxony. He told the baron that he is seeking his fortune in England.”
Avalyn shook her head. “Does he look suspicious? Knights do not normally appear uninvited and ask to swear fealty to a liege they do not know. They are referred, or gifted, or part of a legacy. How could he just show up and ask to serve Charles?”
William looked at her. “That is not entire true. Bachelor knights do, at times, seek out lieges to serve, but there is usually some condition associated with it. For instance, the man has to prove himself or come with some reference. It’s not completely unheard of.”
“So Charles believed him?”
William’s gaze left her, noting the corner of the stables was coming into view. “He was impressed with his patins, which is as good as a reference. But he has asked for a demonstration of skill.”
Avalyn’s eyes widened and she looked up at him. “Are you serious? What kind of demonstration?”
William knew before he even said it that she was not going to like it. “He goes against St. John this afternoon. An exhibition of skill for the baron’s review.”
She came to an unsteady halt. “What?” she hissed. “Brogan does not have that kind of experience, William. He’s a soldier. You must not allow this!”
He lifted an eyebrow at her. “What did I tell you inside? You must never mention that name. I meant it.”
She ignored him. “Did you hear me? This cannot happen.”
“He must if he is to stay. There is no choice.”
Her cheeks were flushed with concern, with anger. William gave her hand a tug and they continued on their way. “He’s not a knight, William,” she muttered as they walked. “St. John will destroy him.”
William almost laughed. “You forget, my lady; I have seen your soldier in battle. What he lacks in skill or tactics he makes up for in strength. St. John is the one you should be worried for.”
Avalyn drew in a deep, calming breath, struggling to recover some of her composure. Her nerves were on edge with excitement and apprehension. They were entering into the stable yard now and her eyes were beginning to search for the familiar figure in the area.
“I do not wish ill on St. John,” she said softly. “He has proven himself to be a thoughtful, obedient knight over the past few weeks.”
William nodded. “Do you feel safe enough with him now?”
“I do. He has been considerate around me. I do believe his actions on the night he interrogated me were purely at my uncle’s bequest. He was following orders.”
“Aubrey told you that.”
“I know, but I did not believe him at first.”
“Then I will make a request of you, my lady.”
“What’s that?
“Do not tell the baron that you feel comfortable around St. John. Your aversion to him is the only thing keeping him from sending me back to your uncle. He does not want me here as it is.”
She looked up at him, then. “I know,” she said quietly. “Trust me; I’ll say nothing of my growing trust for St. John.”
As they stood in the center of the yard, the emergence of several figures from the charger stalls suddenly caught their attention. Both William and Avalyn turned to see Barton St. John emerging into the sunlight with Charles and Brogan beside him; Charles was speaking with animation and Brogan was listening intently. William could feel Avalyn start; he hoped she could hold herself in check. He began to wonder if it had been entirely wise to bring her out here. As if he could have kept her away.
Charles immediately caught sight of Avalyn, waving eagerly to her and heading in her direction. But Avalyn couldn’t even look at him; her gaze was fixed on Brogan as if she was incapable of seeing anything else. A glance from William showed tears forming in her eyes. William patted her hand and encouraged her to move forward to meet her betrothed.
“Avalyn,” he snapped softly. “No tears. You must control yourself or you will give us all away.”
She nodded swiftly, looking at the ground and struggling to compose herself. No sooner did she raise her face than Charles and the two men were upon her. She did not look at Brogan; she kept her eyes fixed on Charles, praying that she could keep herself in check when she and Brogan were introduced. It was the hardest thing she had ever had to do in her life.
Charles smiled happily at her, blissfully ignorant to the treachery going on around him.
“Lady Avalyn,” Charles took her hand from William in a possessive gesture. “I would like to introduce you to Sir Tygor Gervaise. Sir Tygor, this is my fiancée, the Lady Avalyn du Brant.”
Avalyn summoned the courage to look at Brogan, trying to remain as emotionless as possible. But the moment she gazed into his dark blue eyes, she felt her knees buckle. Had she seen him under different circumstances, she would hardly have recognized him; dressed in worn armor and mail, he looked every inch the massive, experienced knight. She thought she might collapse, for she had experienced nothing in her life as powerful as the emotions currently surging through her veins. She almost lost her control. But in the very last second before the implosion she was able to recover and dipped her head towards him in an acknowledging gesture. She was so jittery that she thought she might fall on her face.
“Sir Tygor,” she hoped her voice didn’t sound as shaky as she felt. “Welcome to Guerdley Cross. Are you passing through on your travels?”
Brogan shook his head, the dark blue eyes liquid and soft on her. “Nay, my lady. I have offered my services to the baron. I would hope to settle here.”
“I see,” Avalyn was in imminent danger of dissolving. “You look capable enough. But you are not from England. Where were you born?”
“Saxony, my lady,” he replied steadily. “I have been in the service of the Earl of Hesse.”
She simply nodded, unable to continue the conversation. She was afraid that if any more words were exchanged, she would burst into tears. “We are honored that you have come.”
Brogan simply nodded his head; he was having more difficulty than he ever imagined maintaining a neutral expression. Here she was, in the flesh, looking more lovely than he had remembered and he broke out in a cold sweat as he continued to stare at her. For the past twenty-two days, he had done nothing but think of this moment, every action, every effort he made moving him closer and closer to the time when he would be face to face with her again. Now that the moment was upon him, he could hardly breathe.
But any more conversation or exchange of looks would have caused suspicion. Avalyn wisely turned away from Brogan and re-focused on Charles’ fat, smiling face.
“Ch
arles,” she said as evenly as she could manage. “I’ve come to see to my colt. I was told he spooked again the other night and almost trampled a stable boy.”
Charles looked deeply concerned. “I heard that also. Would you like me to accompany you?”
The first word on her lips was a negative. But not wanting to appear cruel, or suspicious, or just plain mean, she agreed.
“Of course.”
Charles took her elbow and led her off in the direction of the stalls. William and Barton watched them go, but Brogan was focused on anything other than the lady. He was struggling so hard not to look at her that sweat peppered his brow. Barton’s gaze eventually returned from his liege and lady back to Brogan; a big man himself, Barton only came up to Brogan’s shoulder. He ran a hand through his chin-length blond hair, feeling the sweat on his scalp from the pulse of the weak sun.
“Well,” he said, his blue-eyed gaze raking the yard. “I have a few things to attend to before our bout this afternoon. Inglesbatch, can you take Gervaise in hand? I don’t want him wandering around alone, getting into trouble.”
There was mirth in St. John’s eyes but Brogan, at first, thought he was serious. He looked at the blond knight with a measure of venom as Inglesbatch quickly intervened; he saw Brogan’s menacing expression and sought to divert the pending snap.
“I’ll take him in hand,” he told Barton. “You’d better prepare for your bout with him this afternoon. From the looks of the man, you’ll be lucky if you can walk away.”
Barton grinned, sizing Brogan up. “We’ll see.”
The cocky knight strolled away, back across the bailey. Brogan realized the man had been jesting with him and his anger rapidly cooled. They waited until St. John was out of earshot before turning to each other. William jerked his head in the direction of the knight’s quarters to the south.
“Come along,” he said quietly.
They had barely taken three steps when Brogan spoke. “I’d forgotten just how beautiful she is. Is she well?”
Romantic Legends Page 21
