The Agents of William Marshal Volume II: A Medieval Romance Bundle

by Kathryn Le Veque

  The soft red surcoat made from finely polished cotton fit her very well over a delicate linen long-sleeved sheath. To it, Derica attached one of the brooches Keller had given her, a silver piece worked into the shape of a flower with a large garnet set deep into it. She then brushed her hair and plaited a long braid, which fell luxuriously down her back.

  Looking at herself in the polished bronze mirror, she didn’t see the same woman she had known once, the young girl who had run away from Framlingham into the arms of the man she loved. Gazing back at her was someone with the sad maturity to have loved and lost at a young age. If she looked long enough, she could see her broken heart bleeding out all over herself. It was a sobering moment in a week that had been full of them. Depressed, she quit the room.

  It occurred to her half way down the hall that she hadn’t left her room since her arrival and was somewhat lost in the vast labyrinth of Pembroke. It was a massive place that smelt of dampness. She found the stairs and ended up on the living level, which held the great hall. There was some light and voices coming from the great room, drawing her into it.

  Keller was standing by a hearth that was taller than he was. A fire blazed brightly in it. There was a cup in his hand as he spoke softly to a shorter man next to him, his strong features silhouetted by the light. When Keller looked over and saw her standing in the doorway, he nearly dropped his cup.

  “My lady,” there was concern in his voice as he walked towards her. “Is something the matter?”

  “Nay,” Derica shook her head. “The children are asleep and I wish to speak with you.”

  He couldn’t set the cup down fast enough or walk quickly enough to her side. “Of course,” he gestured to the small room across from the great hall. “We may speak in the solar.”

  The solar was dark, no fire in the hearth. Keller quickly set to lighting a blaze, but Derica stopped him. “There is no need for that,” she said. “I will only take a moment.”

  “Very well,” he stood up, too fast, and dropped the kindling on his boot. Rather than look the fool and reach down to pick it up, he simply kicked it away and pretended not to care. “What did you wish to speak to me about?”

  “About your gifts.”

  “The gowns? Are they not to your liking?”

  “They’re fine.”

  “Then the jewelry. You’d rather pick out your own? The silversmith said that garnet and citrine were of the latest fashion. I bought what he suggested.”

  He was turning into that nervous boy again. Derica put her hands up to stop his chatter.

  “The jewelry is lovely, Sir Keller. Absolutely lovely.”

  He looked confused and relieved at the same time. “I see.” He started popping his knuckles again. “Then what did you wish…?”

  “If you’d let me get a word in, I simply wanted to thank you for your generosity. You left the chamber so quickly that we did not get the chance.”

  A twinkle came to his brown eyes. “Oh,” he said. “I left because I did not want to intrude. I feel as if I intrude far too much on your time as it is.”

  It was rather humorous watching the seasoned knight pop his knuckles and shift around nervously. “May I ask you a question, Sir Keller?” she finally said.

  “Of course.”

  “Do I frighten you?”

  The twinkle in his eyes grew. “Aye.”

  “I thought so. But why?”

  The man shrugged his big shoulders and stopped cracking his knuckles. “Because… because you’re so beautiful, I suppose.”

  “But why does that scare you?”

  He pursed his lips. “I didn’t say I was scared. Merely terrified. There is a difference.”

  He was trying to make a smooth explanation, but it wasn’t conveying what he hoped. He was looking befuddled and Derica couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

  “Sir Keller,” she reached out and put a hand on his arm. “I do not wish to terrify you. I am not the sort to terrify anyone, truly. I am quite approachable under normal circumstances, but this week has not seen normal circumstances. If I have been distant, or even rude, then I am sorry. But my mind is elsewhere. Much has happened.”

  He was gazing at her with a look on his face like the man who had just been given the greatest gift of his life. “There’s no need to apologize, my lady,” he said softly. “ ’Tis only that it seems to me that you and I find ourselves in an unexpected situation and I am simply trying to make it easier for the both of us.”

  She removed her hand from his arm. The cold of the solar was getting to her as she turned away from him, shivering, and sat in the nearest chair.

  “I know you are,” she said after a moment. “And I suppose my attitude should be the same. But I am still very much married to my husband, in heart and mind and body, and I cannot give that up.”

  Keller didn’t say anything. After a moment, he left the room, leaving Derica sitting in the cold darkness. She thought she had offended him. Just as she was preparing to leave herself, Keller returned with a heavy woolen blanket and swung it over her shoulders.

  “ ’Tis cold in here and since you will not let me start a fire, perhaps you will let me bring you a blanket.”

  Derica was touched by his gesture. “You really are too kind, Sir Keller.”

  He sat on a stool opposite her, his rugged face barely visible in the darkness. “I would be honored if you would simply call me Keller.”

  That was not too much to ask, and Derica nodded her head in agreement. The silence grew heavy and Keller began popping his knuckles again.

  “Is your chamber comfortable?” he began with the idle chatter again because he didn’t know what else to talk about. “Should we move the children to their own chamber now?”

  Derica shook her head. “I still prefer them with me, thank you.” She fell silent again, watching the knight fidget. “Keller?”

  His head snapped up as if she had ordered him to attention. “My lady?”

  “There is something you can do for me, if you would be so inclined.”

  “Name it and it shall be done.”

  “You can find where my husband’s body is buried and bring it back to me.”

  He paused, indecision on his features. But he was a man sworn to obedience and his word was his bond. “If that is your wish, my lady.”

  Indescribable relief swept over Derica. She hadn’t realized what that gesture would mean to her. The thought of Garren’s precious remains being within her grasp, something she could reconcile herself to, was almost too much to take. She simply wanted to see him one last time, to say a proper good bye to the man who meant everything to her. Before she could thank Keller, the tears came and she was unable to speak.

  He was stricken with her soft sobs. “Have no fear,” he attempted to comfort her. “I shall find him. I shall go tonight.”

  Derica could only reach out and touch his arm again, silent thanks for a deeply meaningful promise. Keller dared to put his big hand over hers in comfort and, feeling that her hand was like ice, took it into his big, warm palm. She was freezing and he gently coaxed her other hand away from her. When he had both of them in his grasp, he rubbed briskly to warm her.

  “Do not weep,” he murmured. “I will not return until I find him.”

  She sniffled, her big green eyes overflowing at him. “But how will you do this?”

  “I will go to Chepstow. The Marshal will know where he is.”

  “I do not know how to repay your kindness to me.”

  He was in deep territory and unsure how to navigate. “Our marriage will be repayment enough. And perhaps a strong son or two.”

  Derica’s smile faded and Keller knew he had said something terribly wrong. “I didn’t mean….” he stammered.

  She pulled her hands away from him. “I know you did not. Your statement was not unreasonable.”

  “But I did not mean to.…”

  “You did not.” She stood up, abruptly, and the blanket fell away from her. “I
will bid you a good eve, then. And I thank you again for your kindness.”

  She was to the door before he could stop her. “My lady,” he said, almost pleading. “Please do not leave. I did not mean to offend you. I would never knowingly do that.”

  Derica paused, feeling foolish, feeling overwhelmed. The thought of bearing another man’s children had not yet occurred to her. To let this man, no matter how kind he had been to her, touch her in such an intimate fashion made her sick to her stomach. The only man she would ever want to touch her in that manner was dead. She forced herself to look at him, smiling weakly.

  “There may be days when I behave abruptly, for reasons I can hardly explain at the moment,” she said quietly. “You did not offend me. It is just difficult for me to think of another marriage right now, much less children.”

  Keller was relieved he had not insulted her. He gave her a lopsided smile. “And you have to ask me why you make me nervous? I live in constant fear to say something that will upset you, and I do not want to do that.”

  “I realize that, and I am sorry. I shall try to do better.”

  He looked at her a moment. “I should not want you to do better.”

  “Why not?”

  He tried to put his thoughts into words. “Because if you were grieving for me, I should want the same devotion. I shall not take any measure of loyalty away from Garren le Mon.”

  Derica thought on that. “Sir Keller, I suspect that you are a truly remarkable man somewhere underneath all of that knightly solemnity.”

  He smiled, embarrassed. “I cannot say, my lady.”

  “I can.” She flashed him a genuine smile. “Good night to you.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “If she fell into the river, there is no knowing how far down stream she is drifted,” Emyl said quietly. “You must face facts, Garren. Your wife is dead.”

  Garren’s jaw flexed dangerously. In the great hall of Cilgarren, he stood his ground, unwilling to give in to the resignation the others had. It had been nearly four weeks since Derica’s disappearance and, for as much as they had searched, they were convinced she had drowned in the river and her body would not be found. It had been a painful realization for Offa and Emyl, a devastating one for David. Their world had been a dark and dreary place as of late.

  “I understand your logic,” Garren said steadily. “But if nobody has been located, then there is still hope. I have seen too many incidents of alleged death in my life to be so easily convinced that death has come. Show me her body and I shall believe it.”

  Emyl cast his son a long look before turning away. He was too old to give in to false hopes. Fergus, however, had been listening to unrealistic expectations for the better part of a week.

  “We’ll go look for her, you and me,” he told Garren. “Perhaps, somehow, she made it out of the water and was kidnapped by peasants. Perhaps she is being held hostage somewhere. Who knows?”

  “Nonsense!” Offa snorted. “More than likely, if she made out of the water, she is in the hands of bandits who will…”

  A deadly look from Garren stopped him. Fergus smoothed the situation. “There is a possibility she escaped your search,” he said. “Garren is like a hound. He’ll track her until he finds her.”

  “What if he doesn’t find her?”

  It was David’s soft question. They all looked at him, the tall, slender man with the haunting dark eyes, knowing how smitten he had been with Derica. He had, so far, looked the most for her out of all of them. Even with her husband returned, the enormous knight with the recent battle scars, he was still feeling her loss and was inadequately hiding his feelings.

  “Unless God himself has reached down and pulled her into the heavens, I will find her,” Garren growled at him.

  No one had the courage to say another negative word. Garren was exhausted from battle, exhausted from riding for days on end, and in no mood to be disputed. He wouldn’t even wait to eat and rest, as Fergus had strongly suggested. Finally reaching Cilgarren had empowered him, renewed his resolve to find Derica alive. He was back where he had left her, and he could feel her presence as strongly as if she was standing next to him. Nothing was going to stop him from finding his wife. In a flash of armor and steel, he quit the hall.

  Fergus followed him outside, as did the others. Near the kitchens, he slowed to observe the sloping hillside that abruptly disappeared into the river below. The weather had long since worn away any clues that might have told him what had happened to his wife on that fateful day. Still, he inspected the slope, walked among the wild garden, glancing down to the murky riverbed.

  “She was here, we think.”

  Garren turned to Fergus, who was standing very close to the edge of the cliff. The man was looking sadly into the gray waters. He made his way over to the place where Fergus stood and paced around, inspecting the rim.

  “Had it been raining that day?”

  “It had been raining for weeks.”

  “So the ground was slippery.”

  “Verily. Which is why I am more inclined to believe that she did not throw herself into the river as much as she slipped in.”

  Garren took a long, slow breath, his mind working. “Damn her for standing so close. Too many times did I warn her.”

  “We all did. She was fearless about it, unfortunately.”

  Garren was quiet a moment. “The fall itself should not have killed her,” he said. “My concern is that perhaps she hit her head somehow and was knocked unconscious.”

  “And drowned,” Fergus was barely audible.

  Garren couldn’t refute the obvious. He turned away from the cliff, heading back towards the bailey. “It is my hope that we will find out,” he said with more determination than he felt. “I intend to comb down river inch by inch until I find something that leads me to believe she is either alive or dead.”

  “That could take time,” Fergus followed him. “If we only had more help.”

  Garren paused. “Your father and Offa and David have already been through this,” he said. “We will use them again to search, as futile as they believe it may be. And…”

  “And what?”

  Garren suddenly looked thoughtful. “The nearest garrison is Pembroke. You could ride there and ask for assistance.”

  “Pembroke is held for the Marshal. Won’t some of those who serve there know you on sight?”

  “Probably.”

  “If they see you alive….”

  Garren put up his hands, moving forward again in search of his horse. “I know, I know. All would be for waste if someone from the garrison saw me and reported back to the Marshal. But they don’t know you, and I could direct their efforts through you.”

  “True enough,” Fergus agreed. His steed was nearby and he wearily sought the animal’s reins. “Very well, then. I shall ride to Pembroke for help. Perhaps a dozen men or so to cover more ground than you and I can alone. But you need to stay out of sight.”

  “I will.”

  “I shall return as quickly as I can.”

  Garren watched him ride out, mounting his own charger and fighting his exhaustion as he did so. He felt better knowing that aid was coming, hoping he was that much closer to finding his wife. He could only pray it would be soon enough.

  Derica had never had so many gifts. As if the floodgates of a mythical Aladdin’s Cave had suddenly burst open, she had more jewelry and belts and dresses and shoes than she knew what to do with. Keller apparently thought that the best way to ease her grief was to ply her with gifts, and he did so with exhaustive efficiency. Not a day passed that he didn’t present her with something soft, shiny, or otherwise. It was becoming an endless parade.

  Sian and Aneirin had more possessions than they had ever known to exist, too. Toys, food, clothing was all theirs for the squandering if they wished it. Keller had taken a particular liking to Aneirin, and she to him. Since Derica was distant, he lavished attention on the little girl instead. He wished he could lavish it on Derica, b
ut he knew he had to be patient with her. She wasn’t remotely ready for his interest, so he bided his time with the brown-haired little girl. Sian seemed more intent to be Derica’s shadow, no matter how much Keller tried to interact with him.

  On a morning during her second week at Pembroke, Derica awoke to a bright day and the children playing silently near her bed. They had been up for hours. Yawning, she climbed from the bed, kissed them both, and went about preparing herself for the day. She had always been one to rise and dress immediately, not to lag about lazily.

  One of the severe women, whom she had yet to be able to tell apart from one another, brought her warmed rosewater to wash the sleep from her face with. She brushed her teeth with a soft reed brush and rinsed it with a breath sweetener. Pulling off her woolen night shift, she replaced it with a shift of soft lamb’s wool. Over that, she donned a long sleeved linen shift of deep blue and a sleeveless surcoat of contrasting pale blue broadcloth. It was some of the less ornate clothing she owned, but highly fashionable and very comfortable.

  Her dresser was overflowing with belts and jewels that Keller had given her. The severe servant encouraged her to wear something rich and gaudy to compensate for the plain dress she wore, but Derica pushed her suggestions aside and chose a simple gold cross on a golden chain that hung between her breasts. When the servant attempted to braid her hair in an elaborate style, Derica insisted on one simple braid that draped over one shoulder. Every time the woman tried to dress her up, she would dress down.

  The children were ready to go outside and run about. They had been caged in the bedchamber far too long since awakening and were bouncing about like animals. With one child in each hand, Derica ascended to the hall below and was met by the majordomo of the castle, a kindly man named Sims. He ushered her to one of two heavy dining tables that lined the hall of Pembroke and quickly ordered the morning meal delivered. Within a very short time, there was more food than they could possibly eat covering the table.