“I believe I should at least try,” Torston said. “Let me speak with Niven. If I do not, he will think I am hiding like a coward.”
It was Edward who shook his head firmly. “My lord, my skills have been honed in the halls of our king, who is an aggressive and stubborn man himself,” he said. “Kerr will not think you a coward because I will make sure he knows that I am a mediator because you are too enraged to face him. Imagine a man attacking your home on the day of your daughter’s wedding. It is shameful and, like any good father, you are mad enough to kill. It is for Niven’s own safety that I am the meditator.”
Torston liked the sound of that, not dreaming that Edward’s words were, in fact, manipulating him. But Edward knew Torston’s pride was at stake; he was counting on it.
“Very well,” Torston said reluctantly. He was eyeing William and Paris and Kieran, the most senior and respected commanders he knew. “If you believe this is a good course of action, then.”
William nodded. “I do,” he said. “In fact, I will send Kieran with Edward. There is no one better at reading the minds of men than Kieran. If he and Edward cannot negotiate a peaceful end, then no one in England can. My trust is with them.”
Torston scratched his cheek, glancing towards the main gatehouse as he pondered his next move. “You asked me what I was willing to compensate them with for the loss of my daughter,” he said, turning to Edward. “They offered me fifty sheep, twenty cows, and twenty gold marks. I will offer them the same. But know that it is possible that Niven should want my younger daughter, Audrey. She has only seen fourteen years and he cannot have her. If he brings her up, make that clear.”
Edward nodded. “I will, my lord.”
With that, he broke off from the group of men and, along with the man he’d known as Uncle Kieran his entire life, made his way through the smaller gatehouse and into the larger bailey of The Lyceum. As they emerged from it, the massive outer bailey was spread out before them and directly ahead sat the squat, sturdy gatehouse lit by the glow of dozens of torches.
Edward was fixed on it.
“Let me do the talking, Uncle Kieran,” he said steadily. “I suspect they have no idea who is within these walls, and you are almost as well-known as my father, so let me speak to them first. You and my father are men of importance, but I do not want to invoke your names unless absolutely necessary.”
Kieran’s dark gaze was on the gatehouse, as well. “As you wish,” he said. “I am eager to see you do what the king thinks you do so well. Make us proud, lad.”
Edward glanced at him, a reluctant grin on his face, but said nothing. As the pair came near the mouth of the gatehouse, they came to a halt. Several de Royans soldiers, heavily armed, came out to meet them.
“Is Niven Kerr among that group?” Edward asked the soldier closest to him.
The man, a seasoned soldier with a scar across his nose, nodded. “Aye, my lord,” he said. “He is standing there with his son, Finlay.”
“Is Finlay the one who offered marriage to Lady Alys?”
“Aye, my lord.”
“Who else is with them that I should be aware of?”
The soldier lowered his voice. “Old Ezra Kerr,” he muttered. “He is Laird Kerr’s uncle and he is as mad as a basket of frogs. I am not certain he is with them, but he might be. Beware of Ezra; some still listen to him and he hates the English.”
Edward’s gaze was on the group of men about twenty feet from the portcullis. He could see a group of them, illuminated by the silver light. “Did you hear all of that, Uncle Kieran?”
Kieran nodded slowly. “I did.”
“Then let us proceed.”
Edward took a few steps forward, into the gatehouse, so that when he spoke loudly, the arched ceiling of the gatehouse would magnify his words.
“I wish to speak with Niven Kerr,” he said loudly. “My name is de Wolfe. I have come to negotiate on behalf of Torston de Royans.”
Edward watched as the Scots began to shuffle around, muttering to each other. Finally, one man broke off from the group.
“De Wolfe?” he said in heavy Scots brogue. “Are ye related to the Wolfe of the Border?”
“He is my father.”
There was a long pause. “A Wolfe cub,” the man said, but it was difficult to tell if there was respect or disdain in his tone. “Come forward, Wolfe cub.”
“You also, my lord.”
The Scotsman didn’t hesitate; he began to move. Because he was moving, Edward moved, with Kieran right behind him. He came close to the portcullis, facing a man several feet on the other side of it who looked as if he had seen better days. He had long, gray hair, balding on top, and a large scar on his chin that took out a hole in it. Heavy-browed, he faced Edward suspiciously.
“Ye’re dark like yer da,” he grumbled.
“Do you know him, my lord?”
“Who do ye think took this gouge out of my chin?”
That struck Edward as not being a particularly good thing. Already, they were starting off with a man William had evidently wounded in battle. His tactics changed slightly.
“And my father lost an eye to a Welsh archer,” he said smoothly. “Men are injured in war and that is why we do not want to have any bloodshed on this night. It is the wedding of Lady Alys and, as you can imagine, Lord de Royans is quite angry to have the celebration disrupted. His rage is so great that his men have pleaded with him not to face you personally, which is why I have come in his stead. May I have your name, my lord? Am I speaking to Niven?”
The Scotsman eyed him seriously, trying to digest all that Edward was telling him. “I am he,” he finally said, jabbing a finger towards the keep of The Lyceum. “De Royans is angry, is he? His anger canna match my own. This should be my son’s celebration.”
Edward nodded patiently. “So I have heard,” he said. “But surely you knew that Lady Alys had more than one offer of marriage. It is a father’s privilege to choose who he believes would be best suited for his daughter. Simply because Lord de Royans chose someone else does not mean that your son is not suitable; I am sure he is quite suitable.”
“Then why is my son not married tae young Alys?”
Edward edged towards the portcullis, lowering his voice. There was a gleam in his eye as he spoke. “Do you know Lady Alys personally? That is to say, have you ever met her?”
Niven eyed him. “I’ve seen the lass,” he said. “I met her once, in her father’s hall.”
“But have you spoken to her?”
Niven shook his head. “Nay,” he said, turning to his tall, lanky son standing next to him. “But Fin saw her. She is a bonny lass and he wanted tae marry her.”
Edward eyed the young man, reading his emotions on his face. His pride is damaged, he thought. That’s what all this was; a matter of pride. Torston’s pride, Niven’s pride, Finlay’s pride. Edward had known from the beginning that pride would be the driving factor because it really couldn’t be anything else. It probably wasn’t even a matter of an alliance at this point. Certainly, a marriage would have cemented an alliance, but it wasn’t as if the Kerrs were any great ally or enemy. According to Troy, they even kept a distance from their own kin.
So… what would restore a man’s pride faster than anything else?
Compensation?
Another woman?
Edward had an idea.
“I see,” he said after a moment. “Then you did not speak with Lady Alys. That is well and good. Had you spoken to the girl, you would not be standing here and there would have been no marriage offer. I would say young Finlay is far better off right now than if he were the poor man now saddled with Lady Alys. Believe me… it is much better this way.”
Niven and Finlay looked at him in confusion. Even Kieran glanced at Edward, wondering what in the world he was doing. Niven stepped closer to the portcullis.
“What do ye mean?” he asked. “I saw the lass. She was worth the offer we made for her.”
Edward sighed heav
ily, leaning in to the portcullis as if delivering a devastating secret only for Niven’s ears.
“Beauty is all she has,” he muttered. “If you must know, Lady Alys sounds like a goat when she speaks. And her breath – horrid!”
Niven frowned. “What’s this ye say?”
Edward nodded firmly. “’Tis true,” he said. “But one would expect such horrid breath, considering she only has a few teeth left in her mouth. Her father did not let her speak to you, did he?”
Niven’s frown was becoming a grimace of horror. “Nay.”
“Now you know why,” Edward said. “He knew the moment she opened her mouth, you would see what horrors the woman hides. But that is not the only thing about Lady Alys. It is not generally known, but beneath her skirts, she has a third leg.”
Niven’s eyes widened. Even Finlay, who was listening intently, gasped. “She has a… another leg? More than two?”
“More than two.”
“It is not true!”
Edward shushed him, as if it were all some great secret. “Unfortunately, it is,” he said. “It comes out of the back of her… well, back here, by her hips. Did she walk for you?”
Niven and Finlay were looking at Edward in mounting horror. “Nay,” Niven said, looking at Finlay, who shook his head. “She was seated when we saw her in her father’s hall. She never spoke and she never stood up. She just… sat.”
Edward nodded confidently. “Because de Royans did not want you to see her deformity,” he said. “If she turned her body just so, you would have been able to see it and you would have known that he was trying to marry off his imperfect daughter. Just be glad he selected another husband for her. Now that man must envision horrors such as we cannot grasp on his wedding night. Be very glad it is not Finlay. Imagine if he had married her and discovered all of this after the fact. Then you would have good cause to attack de Royans for not being truthful with you so, at this moment, you should consider yourself quite fortunate.”
Niven and Finlay were staring at him, shocked by what they’d been told. Finlay looked at his father for his reaction, but Niven wasn’t quite sure how to feel. Or what to believe. It sounded so outlandish, but the truth was that what de Wolfe said made sense – he hadn’t heard the lass speak, nor had he seen her stand. She’d remained seated, and silent, the entire time before de Royans took him to another chamber to discuss the offer. He’d heard of men being tricked into marriage with women who were hiding things, and he was therefore leaning towards accepting de Wolfe’s explanation, but not so easily.
“How can the man offer a daughter with such… such troubles?” he demanded. “I know he had other offers for the lass. Did he not tell any of them?”
Edward frowned. “Of course not,” he said. “If you are trying to sell the cow and the cow does not produce milk, are you going to divulge that? Of course not. You wait until the man who buys the cow discovers it for himself. And by then, it is too late.”
Niven’s eyes widened. “So he was tryin’ tae trick me!”
That wasn’t the direction Edward wanted the conversation to go. What he was doing was extremely risky as it was, and he could only pray that his father and the others never found out what he’d done. But at this point, he was doing what he needed to do in order to convince the Scots to walk away from their anger and their damaged prides.
Even if it meant turning a young woman into a freak of nature.
“Nay, not trick,” Edward said quickly. “But can you blame the man for trying to find a husband for his daughter? He does not want her living under his roof for the rest of his life.”
Niven eyed him, still grossly unhappy, finally looking to Finlay to see the young man holding up his hands as if to show thanks for the fact he hadn’t been caught up in de Royans’ scheme. The lad was shaking his head, wagging it back and forth. Niven sighed heavily.
“Then I’ll not fault him,” he said. “But pity the poor fool who fell intae his trap.”
Edward lifted his eyebrows. “It was my cousin,” he said flatly. “How do you think I know such information about the lady? He told me. It is he who is trapped in that marriage and if I were you, I would return home as quickly as I could. My cousin is none too happy and we may very well have a battle on our hands here tonight. You do not want to be caught up in a family skirmish.”
Niven shook his head slowly. “Nay, lad. That is not for me.”
Now that Edward had the man feeling relieved about the lack of a marriage, he went for the throat. “Because you know the terrible secret now and because de Royans wants to maintain his peace with you, will you accept fifty sheep, twenty cows, and twenty marks of gold for you trouble?” he asked. “Lord de Royans would be only too happy to gift you these things as an overture of goodwill. So you will not think too poorly of him.”
That had Niven’s attention. “But that is the offer we made for the lass.”
“I know. But Lord de Royans feels it is appropriate to compensate you for your troubles.”
Niven blinked in surprise. This was something he hadn’t expected. In fact, he was very pleasantly surprised.
“Aye,” he said. “I will accept it.”
“And you will keep Lord de Royans’ secret. About his daughter, of course.”
Niven snorted. “I wouldna tell anyone about the lass my Fin nearly married. That would bring shame tae us all.”
Edward nodded, trying not to show how relieved he was that Niven wasn’t going to spread his lies around, nor was he going to attack The Lyceum. In truth, when it came to negotiations, Edward was a man of great honesty. But in this case, he could see that the only way to ease Niven’s pride and stave off a siege would be to make the man glad his son hadn’t married Lady Alys.
He did what he had to do.
“Then take your men home, my lord,” Edward said. “There is no need for you to be here any longer. You now know the sad truth of the situation and there is nothing more to say. I will arrange to have Lord de Royans’ men bring the sheep and cattle and coinage to you.”
Niven nodded, eyeing Edward and The Lyceum in general before he stepped away. “But what of Lord de Royans’ younger daughter?” he said. “He has another daughter.”
Edward shook his head. “She is far too young. Return in three years and speak with Lord de Royans once she has grown up.”
Niven cast him a long glance. “Does that lass have any… secrets as well?”
“Not that I am aware of.”
That seemed to satisfy Niven somewhat. He turned away, motioning to his men as they went, heading back into the fields surrounding The Lyceum as the silver moon overhead turned them all into ghostly figures against the darkness. As Edward stood there and watched, he heard Kieran come up beside him.
“Eddie,” he said slowly, “that had to be the most brilliant and horrific bit of negotiation I have ever witness in my life. Is that what you do for the king?”
“If necessary.”
“But a third leg? Lady Alys has a third leg?”
Edward bit his lip to keep from laughing. “I had to tell him something,” he said. “I had to make the man glad his son had not married Lady Alys. How else am I do to that unless he thinks something is wrong with her? No man wants his son to marry an imperfect woman. It saved his pride and it saved us from a nighttime of bombardment from the Scots.”
“That is true. I sensed that it was only the man’s pride damaged and nothing else. Making the lady seem undesirable rather than try to justify de Royans’ actions was genius.”
“Unless Kerr spreads rumors of Alys’ third leg. Then, I will have a few things to answer to.”
He turned to look at Kieran at that point, seeing that the man was barely holding back the laughter himself. Edward turned away from the portcullis before breaking down, and he and Kieran passed through the gatehouse laughing so hard that tears were spilling down their cheeks.
However inappropriate it was, the entire situation had been wildly funny.
“What are you going to tell your father?” Kieran asked, wiping the moisture from his eyes once he stopped gasping. “If you tell him the truth, let it be away from Lord de Royans. You do not want that man hearing how you distorted his daughter.”
Edward struggled to regain his composure because he could see his father and the group of knights in the distance, through the smaller inner gatehouse.
“I am not entirely sure I will give him the details,” he said. “My father might find some humor in it, but he cannot keep from telling my mother about things, and she will take a switch to me.”
“You had better think of something quickly.”
Edward knew that. They were crossing beneath the inner gatehouse at this point, seeing a host of expectant faces turned towards them. Edward could see his father looking at him quite attentively as he approached, expecting great things from his son, the king’s negotiator.
Edward braced himself.
“The Kerr will happily take your fifty sheep, twenty cows, and twenty marks of gold,” he announced to the men and, in particular, Torston. “He and his men are pulling back as we speak.”
Torston’s eyes widened as sighs of relief moved around the group. “They are leaving?”
“Your gatehouse guards will tell you.”
Torston looked off towards the gatehouse, shocked at what he was hearing. “But how did you achieve this? Those are men not easily moved.”
Edward didn’t dare look at Kieran as he answered. “Suffice it to say that I convinced him that there was no shame or offense meant in you giving your daughter in marriage to another man,” he said evenly. “I made him the offer of the gold, sheep and cattle in compensation for his trouble and he was agreeable. The man’s pride was damaged and nothing more, so the offered compensation was enough to ease any ill feelings. Uncle Kieran agrees with me.”
The focus turned to Kieran, who was good at keeping a neutral expression when he realized everyone was looking at him. But he wasn’t a very good liar and that was exactly what Edward was doing. So as a man of honor, it was difficult not to look William in the eye and not tell the man the truth.
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