Behind the Chain Mail (A Look Behind the Series): Legendary Bastards of the Crown

by Rose, Elizabeth

  He looked up at her, the hilt of his dagger clenched between his teeth. Then her eyes met his bright blue eyes and there was no mistaking his face.

  “Reed?” she said softly, watching as the man flipped his body over the edge and onto the battlements. He ripped the dagger from his mouth and held it out in front of him.

  “Dinna call for help or I’ll cut out yer tongue,” he warned her.

  “Reed, what’s the matter with you?” she asked. “It’s me – Maggie.”

  He eyed her curiously and stepped forward. “Maggie? Is that ye, lass?”

  “It is me,” she said with a slight nod. She was still too frightened to move.

  “It doesna sound like the Maggie Gordon I kent while growin’ up. She was Scottish. Ye are a Sassenach.”

  “It’s me. Please believe me. Don’t hurt me, Reed.”

  He reached out and pulled the hood from her head. When he saw her face, he lowered his blade. “It is ye. Why in the clootie’s name are ye dressed like that? And why are ye talkin’ like a Sassenach? Quit pretendin’ to be someone ye’re no’.”

  “Me?” That bothered her and gave her the courage to stand up to him. “I wouldn’t talk if I were you. You dress and talk like a Highlander, and you’re naught but the bastard of the English king.”

  His bushy brows raised in surprise. “So ye’ve heard.”

  “Who hasn’t? Now tell me, why are you here? And why are you climbing the wall?”

  It is always sad to see a series come to an end. That is why I often have characters from my series make guest appearances in other series as well. The Legendary Bastards of the Crown Series doesn’t end here. It continues in a sense as the bastard triplets appear in future books of the Seasons of Fortitude Series. This series is about the sisters of the boys. As I mentioned before, the girls are really their cousins, but they grew up as siblings.

  After that, the family saga continues yet further, years later with the daughters of the bastard triplets in the Secrets of the Heart Series. Both series feature strong women. I love writing strong women, even if it wasn’t very realistic to the times. Men treated women horribly back then. They often treated their hounds better than their wives. To me, I feel, what woman doesn’t want to read a romance that empowers the female gender? I know I do!

  Thank you for coming along on the journey of looking “behind the scenes” of the writing of the Legendary Bastards of the Crown Series. I have included a map, posting the locations of the settings of the stories as well as a family tree.

  And now, as promised, I have a short story about the bastard triplets that can only be found here. Enjoy!

  Elizabeth Rose

  (Watch for a more extended family tree coming up in future editions.)

  Chapter 1

  The Gift

  England, 1367, Christmastime

  The Legendary Bastard triplets of King Edward III gathered together in the great hall of Hetherpool Castle, hands on the hilts of their swords and tankards of Mountain Magic clutched tightly in their fists. With their eyes turned upward, they focused on their target, not certain how to approach it. Was it the enemy or was it an ally? Sometimes, it wasn’t easy to figure these things out.

  “You can get closer to it, boys,” said Annalyse, the woman who raised the men and was also their aunt. She walked up behind them with two of her grown daughters, Winter and Autumn, at her side.

  “It’s not going to bite you,” Autumn assured them.

  Annalyse had just lost her mother this past week, and the triplets were here to pay respect to their late grandmother as well as to help cheer up Annalyse.

  “I’m no’ so sure of that,” said Reed, the red-haired brother who always talked and acted like a Scot. He kept his focus upward. “I get a queasy feelin’ in my gut.”

  Winter and Autumn giggled softly at his remark.

  “Me, too,” added Rook, flipping away a strand of long, black hair with a jerk of his head, peering at the object from the sides of his eyes. “After all, it’s the Feast Day of the Holy Innocents, and we all know that is bad luck. We don’t want to take the chance of anything happening.” As if on cue, Rook’s raven flew over and landed on his shoulder.

  “You fools, do I need to remind you that we were born on the Feast Day of the Holy Innocents?” mumbled their blond brother, Rowen. He nodded toward the bird. “Rook, I’d think living in the catacombs for all those years with a blasted raven is bad luck enough.”

  “That’s in the past now,” said Rook. “And if Calliope were here right now, she’d tell you how much I’ve changed,” he added, speaking about his wife.

  “I’m kind of glad Maggie’s no’ here,” said Reed, mentioning his wife. “She’d probably make me do somethin’ silly that I dinna want to do.”

  “Like this?” asked Rowen, grinning widely, giving Reed a push. Reed shot forward, stumbling, hurrying to right himself. In the process, he spilled some of the potent whisky on the front of his tunic.

  “Ye fool! Ye made me spill my Mountain Magic,” spat Reed, speaking of the coveted drink brewed up by the old Scot, Callum MacKeefe. It was the most potent whisky in all of Scotland and England combined. Reed lifted his hand and licked the golden liquid from his skin, not wanting to waste a single drop. His bird, a red kite, as well as Rowen’s osprey, sat in the rafters watching curiously.

  “Oh, look where you’re standing, Reed,” said Winter mischievously. She wore a crimson velvet gown and had her long, black hair wound up in a circle at the top of her head.

  “He’s under the kissing bough,” added Autumn with a smile. Autumn was the youngest of the sisters and also the most reserved. She resembled Reed with her auburn hair. Winter and Autumn looked at each other and then stepped forward, standing on their tiptoes as each of them kissed Reed on one cheek, making everyone, even their mother, Annalyse, laugh.

  “All right, so ye had yer fun,” spat Reed. His face, he was sure, had turned almost as red as his hair from his embarrassment. Lifting his tankard, he finished off his whisky in one gulp. Then he handed the vessel to his sisters. “However, I think my brathairs should experience this as well.” He reached forward and pulled Rook and Rowen to him. Rook’s raven left his shoulder and took off in flight with a guttural screech.

  The kissing bough above their heads was a ball of twigs interwoven with greenery, holly and mistletoe. Some of the kissing boughs interspersed throughout the festively decorated hall even had lit candles or pieces of fruit attached to them for good luck.

  “All right, lassies, kiss them, too,” commanded Reed, urging his sisters to do it while he held his brothers in place. After the girls smattered kisses on their other two brothers, Rowen whispered something to Rook.

  “Nay,” grumbled Rook, shaking his head defiantly, not liking Rowen’s idea.

  “Just do it,” said Rowen with an evil grin. The hall was crowded with knights, ladies and servants since it was only a few days after Christmas and the celebration of the holiday continued for twelve days. The festivities didn’t stop, even though everyone was also in mourning for the late lady of the castle.

  After having to fast an entire month during the advent season, finally, meat was allowed to be eaten again. The delicious scent of roasted goose, venison and braised rabbit filled the air.

  Rook glanced around the room and made a face before he answered. “Oh, all right, since he deserves it. But let’s do it fast before anyone sees us.”

  “Do what?” asked Reed, not liking the sound of this. His brothers were plotting something and he was sure it involved him.

  “On my count,” said Rowen. “One . . . two . . . three.”

  Both Rook and Rowen leaned over and kissed Reed atop the head. The girls, as well as Annalyse, burst out laughing. It was good to see Annalyse smile again.

  “I’ll kill ye two for that!” Reed pushed his brothers away from him with one powerful shove.

  “What’s going on here?” asked Annalyse’s father, Lord Ramsay Granville, walking ov
er with a scowl on his face. “This is a time of mourning,” he reminded them. “Even if it is a time of celebrating because of Christmas, you need to show some respect for your late grandmother.”

  “Sorry,” said Reed, wiping off his head. “I’ll make certain never to stand under the kissin’ bough again.”

  “We meant no disrespect, Grandfather,” added Rowen.

  “We were just trying to make our mother smile,” added Rook, speaking of Annalyse.

  “Well, do it somewhere else,” grumbled Lord Ramsay, heading over to converse with some of his knights.

  “He’s right,” said Annalyse. “I thank you boys for lightening the dark moment, but you should show respect for the loss of your grandmother.”

  “We will,” said Rowen. Reed and Rook nodded in agreement.

  “Speaking of showing respect, have you three been to Gabrielle’s chamber yet?” asked Annalyse.

  The men glanced at each other but said nothing. Rook and Rowen buried their noses in their tankards of whisky while Reed kicked at the rushes at his feet.

  “She was your birth mother,” Annalyse reminded them. Annalyse acted as the boys’ mother, raising the triplets from the day that her sister Gabrielle died right after birthing them. “You owe it to her to visit her chamber.”

  “Today is our birthday,” grumbled Reed, not wanting to go.

  “Mayhap later,” added Rowen. “I don’t feel good about going into that room.”

  “He’s right,” Rook piped up. “I think it is a bad idea.”

  “Nay, it’s not,” scolded Annalyse. “Your mother would be very happy to know that you three came here on your birthday and paid her respect.”

  “Queen Philippa even sent over one of her servants to fix up the chamber when she heard you were going to be here,” said Autumn.

  “That’s right,” added Winter. “When she found out that you three have never been in that chamber since the day of your births, she said it was about time you step foot inside the room.”

  “I think I need another tankard of Mountain Magic.” Reed raised his hand in the air to call over a serving wench, but Annalyse swept him away before he could replace his drink.

  “Nonsense.” Annalyse took Reed by the arm and led him through the great hall. Winter and Autumn did the same to the other two brothers. “Now, just go into your mother’s old bedchamber and say a few words to her or, mayhap, a prayer. After all, it’s the least you can do. Don’t forget, she lost her life birthing the three of you.”

  “We’d never forget that,” said Rowen. The boys felt sad as well as guilty.

  “Here you are.” Annalyse let go of Reed’s arm at the chamber door. “Now, go on in and pay your respect. And no alcohol!” She collected the tankards from Rowen and Rook. “Gabrielle wouldn’t have liked that. She was a proper lady.”

  “She was the king’s whore,” mumbled Rook under his breath.

  Rowen’s hand shot out and he hit Rook hard on the shoulder. “That’s our mother you’re talking about, you fool!”

  “Sorry,” said Rook, looking very sheepish for his brash but true comment.

  “Annalyse is right,” continued Rowen. “We should have done this long ago.”

  “We didna even ken Gabrielle was our mathair until we were twelve,” Reed pointed out. “She is like a stranger to us.”

  “I apologize for not telling you the truth,” said Annalyse. “But I needed to keep the secret in order to protect you boys from being killed. Now go, and I won’t hear another complaint about this.”

  Annalyse nodded, sending the brothers reluctantly into the room. Then Annalyse and the girls left, closing the door and leaving the men standing there alone.

  The room was dimly lit, making it hard to see anything clearly. The flames from a half-dozen beeswax candles surrounded the bed. Fir boughs woven tightly together with holly decorated the bedposts. A small fire burned in the hearth. New rushes covered the floor and the scent of apples and cinnamon came from kissing boughs hanging above their heads. It was a cozy atmosphere that seemed full of life. It was only the circumstances behind it that put a damper on the entire occasion. It was the last place Reed or his brothers wanted to be on their birthday.

  “So . . . there’s the bed,” said Reed, pointing it out to his brothers as if they didn’t already see it.

  “Aye. It’s where we were born,” stated Rowen.

  “And where Mother died,” added Rook.

  No one said a word for a few minutes. The three of them stood there staring at an empty bed with looks of horror upon their faces. Finally, Rook let out a deep, loud breath of air. “All right, then. That should be good, nay?”

  “Aye, I think so,” said Rowen with a slight nod. “I’m done.”

  “Me, too,” answered Reed. “I canna wait to get out of here. This place gives me shivers.” Reed turned and headed toward the door with his brothers right on his heels.

  “Come back, boys,” came a woman’s voice from the dark shadows of the chamber. The men stopped in their tracks.

  “Did you hear something?” whispered Rook.

  “Nay.” Rowen shrugged his shoulders, making a face and opening his eyes wide. “Why? Did you?”

  “Nay, I didn’t hear a thing,” answered Rook. “Did you, Reed?”

  “Nay,” answered Reed, shaking his head furiously. “I didna hear a lassie say come back, either. Let’s get out of here.”

  “Wait!” A soft glow filled the room as the fire in the hearth became brighter. The brothers turned around, not sure who they would find. “Don’t leave yet,” said the woman, stoking the flames.

  “Och, it’s only the servant,” said Reed, letting out a breath of relief, seeing the woman put down the iron poker and light a lantern next. She looked to be in her early twenties and was dressed in a course, brown, woolen gown and wore a wimple covering her head.

  “Of course it is only a servant,” said Rook sarcastically. “Who did you think it was? Mother? After all, you keep telling us that addled story about having seen her ghost.”

  “I did see her,” Reed muttered under his breath.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” said Rowen. “Ghosts aren’t real. Rook, our fool brother just thinks he saw Mother, but it was only his imagination. You two are acting like wenches again. Are you scared?”

  “Of course not,” sniffed Rook. “We’re warriors. Nothing can scare us.”

  “That’s right,” added Reed. “So what if it’s the cursed day of the Feast of the Holy Innocents when Herod once killed babies, and we were ordered by our own faither to be killed at birth as well. But for the record, I truly did see the ghost of our mathair, no matter if ye two believe it or no’.”

  “Sure you did,” said Rowen. His eyes scanned the room nervously. “But mayhap it is bad luck that we’re standing here on this day in the same room where our mother died and we almost died as well.”

  All three of the men shivered.

  “Let’s go,” said Rook.

  “I’m right behind ye,” said Reed.

  “It might not be a bad idea after all to get out of here,” agreed Rowen.

  “I heard your late mother thought the world of you three and had great hopes for you as well,” said the servant. “Wasn’t she the one who thought you would all do something of importance someday? I hear she spent her last few minutes of life holding you and used her dying breath to name each of you, if I’m not mistaken.”

  The men stopped and slowly turned around.

  “How do you know this?” Rook asked her.

  “The queen told me,” answered the woman. She raised her chin, holding the lantern higher. When the light hit her face, the men could see her green and yellow eyes that seemed to hold a depth of true wisdom. “Queen Philippa also told me what she did for you and the risk she took. I wouldn’t think you’d want to disappoint her by leaving here so quickly.”

  “I suppose another few minutes wouldn’t hurt,” said Rowen.

  “Reed was the one in a
hurry to leave,” replied Rook, trying to blame it all on his brother.

  Reed shot him a look that could kill before bringing his attention back to the woman. “What is yer name?” he asked.

  “My name is Imanie.” The woman placed the lantern on the table. When she did, the brothers spied a heart brooch pinned to her gown, glimmering in the firelight.

  “That brooch,” said Rowen, causing the woman’s head to snap upward. Her eyes opened wide.

  “What about it?” Imanie’s hand covered the pin protectively.

  “It seems to me I’ve seen it before.” Rowen walked forward to inspect it closer, and Imanie slowly dropped her hand to her side.

  “It’s a golden heart,” said Reed.

  “Interesting that a servant would possess a pin like that,” said Rook, joining in the conversation.

  “Aye. I remember now,” said Rowen. “I’ve seen the queen wearing one just like it, I’m sure of it. Where did you get it?”

  The woman named Imanie stood up straight and flipped her long braid over the brooch to conceal the pin. “I didn’t steal it, if that is what you are thinking. It was a gift given to me by Queen Philippa herself.”

  “Why would she give a servant such an expensive thing?” asked Rook.

  Imanie didn’t answer. “I’ll leave you three to pay your respects now,” said the woman, heading across the room. She stopped at the doorway and glanced over her shoulder. “I didn’t know your mother personally, but the queen seemed to take a liking to her even though Lady Gabrielle was the king’s mistress. She was friends with your mother and said she saw strength in Gabrielle and admired her for that. You owe the queen as well as your mother much and it is good you are here. Because the way I see it, you could never repay them.” With that, she exited the chamber and closed the door behind her.

  “That was a brash and bold remark for a servant. She shouldn’t be speaking that way to us,” said Rook.