Age of Gods and Mortals

by Le Veque, Kathryn

  His jaw started to tick. “And I love them,” he said. “I would give anything in the world for them to be my sons, but they are not. I love the boys and I love their mother, but I am not a husband and I am not a father, and when you tell me I am part of the family, you are telling me something that is not true although I wish it was. I wish it with all of my heart and it hurts to hear you say it. Is that plain enough for you?”

  Tresta was looking at him with big, astonished eyes as his words sank in. “Oh… Tarran,” she breathed. “You… oh, dear God, you wish…?”

  He threw down the hoof pick, rage in his manner. “I have loved you for as long as I can remember and I have never said a word about it,” he said, coming around the horse. All of his defenses came tumbling down and here he was, more vulnerable than he had ever been in his life in a completely unexpected moment. “You were married to my liege and there is nothing on God’s good earth that would ever cause me to violate that trust. My feelings were misplaced and foolish, and I pushed them down so deeply that they returned as aloofness and curtness every time I had to talk to you. It was self-defense, Tresta. Do you understand that? You thought I disliked you, but that was far from the truth. I loved you and I did not want to.”

  Tresta’s mouth popped open in utter astonishment as she listened to Tarran’s confession. “I do not even know what to say,” she whispered, tears pooling in her eyes. “I… I suppose that I heard the rumors long ago, of men saying that you were… fond of me, but I did not believe them. I brushed them off. I was married to Teague and I loved him deeply. Nothing would destroy that.”

  He snorted. “I know,” he said. “You are a woman of honor, as I am a man of honor. That means we may feel things, but we do not act on them. I remained your husband’s faithful knight and I was content, but then Teague perished and you had no one to help you, no one to support you, so I returned to Snow Hill and pretended as if my feelings for you weren’t growing. You are a grieving widow and I have no right to disturb that. Teague deserves to be mourned for years to come and I would never take that away from him, but I cannot help what I feel. I never meant to tell you any of this, but you pushed. I told you not to push, but you did anyway. I hope you’re happy.”

  With that, he walked around her and headed out of the stables, leaving Tresta standing there in shock. Pure, utter shock. Her first instinct was to follow him again, to try and flesh out this startling revelation, but she couldn’t seem to do it. All she could think of was the pain in his expression and of the confusion in her own heart. Confusion because his declaration didn’t upset her.

  Part of her was overjoyed to hear it.

  And therein was the confusion.

  She just didn’t know what to think.

  Stunned, she headed out of the stable, moving slowly, pondering every word out of his mouth. She had her head down, looking at her feet as she walked, and therefore didn’t see her brother until it was nearly too late.

  “Careful,” Hallam said, reaching out to grab her as she nearly plowed into him. “What are you doing out here?”

  Tresta looked into that pale face she knew so well and she shook her head. “I… was speaking to…” She abruptly stopped, plopping down onto a three-legged stool that was at the mouth of the stable. “Oh, Hallam. I’ve done something terrible, I fear.”

  He peered down at her. “What do you mean?”

  Tresta was growing increasingly despondent. “Tarran,” she said. “Did you see him just now?”

  Hallam nodded, glancing over his shoulder to see where Tarran had gone. “He told me to tend the brown warmblood we purchased in Le Touquet,” he said. “He thinks he may have a buyer for the animal in the visitor from last night, but I’m not sure I want to sell him. I rather like him. But why did you ask about Tarran?”

  Tresta wasn’t sure where to start, frustrating her to the point of tears. When Hallam saw them pooling in her eyes, he crouched down in front of her.

  “What is the matter?” he asked softly. “What did you do?”

  Tresta looked at her brother, trying to blink the tears away. “Did you know that Tarran is in love with me?”

  Hallam stared at her a moment. “Did he tell you that?”

  She nodded. “He did,” she said. “But it was my fault. I pushed him into it. I hurt him and forced him into a confession. Did you know?”

  Hallam’s brow furrowed, thinking a great many things at that moment, not the least of which was the fact that the worst kept secret at Snow Hill was finally coming into the light. With a sigh, he lowered himself to his buttocks, facing his sister.

  “I knew,” he said. “We all knew. Teague knew. But Tarran never gave him any reason to mistrust him, not ever. To be perfectly honest, I’ve felt sorry for Tarran all these years, loving a woman he could never have. But he was never anything but a perfectly behaved, honorable knight around you. It takes a man of great personal character to behave that way when he feels something.”

  Tresta’s tears spilled over. “I told him he was one of the family,” she said tightly. “I told him that my children love him and that he feels like one of the family. He told me it hurt him to hear me say that because he really wasn’t, and he’s right. He isn’t. I never meant to hurt him.”

  Hallam reached out, gently holding her hand. “Tressie, you know I have never interfered in your life,” he said softly. “It is not my right to do so. But just this once, I am going to say what I feel. May I?”

  Tresta nodded, dabbing at her eyes. “I wish you would.”

  “Very well,” Hallam said. “Teague is gone. He is never coming back. You are still young and lovely and you deserve to be happy. You could never find a finer husband than Tarran du Reims, not if you searched for the rest of your life. In a room full of honorable and eligible men, he would still be at the very top of that group. He loves you, he loves the boys, and I am convinced there is no finer, stronger man in all of England right now. You can still honor Teague and love another man. I do not think Teague would hold that against you – do you?”

  Tresta continued to wipe away the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. “He told me that he wanted me to be happy should he not return from The Levant,” she said. “He made a point of telling me that he wanted me to be happy again should the opportunity come.”

  Hallam smiled at her, lifting her hand to kiss it. “The opportunity has been in front of your face all along,” he said. “Tarran is a fine, generous man who would do anything in the world for you. Do you think you could love him?”

  She sniffled. “I… I think that I already do,” she said. “But Teague… I am not sure I am ready to let him go yet. It has not yet been a year since his death.”

  “It has been a year of healing,” Hallam said. “Look around you, Tressie – everyone is healing and do you know who is to thank for that? Tarran. He has done everything possible to help you, and everyone at Snow Hill, heal. Going on with your life does not mean you forget about the love you had for Teague. You will always have that and loving Tarran will not diminish it. Your heart is big enough to love two great men, each in different ways.”

  He made sense, but Tresta was still muddled, still torn. “Mayhap,” she said hoarsely. “All I know is that the thought of Tarran leaving fills me with such dread and sadness. I was so dependent on Teague – too dependent – and now I have become dependent upon Tarran. What if all I feel for him is dependency and not love?”

  Hallam shrugged. “Ask yourself if you can picture him in romantic situations,” he said. “Could you kiss the man without reserve? Could you let him touch you and not recoil?”

  They were good, if not very personal, questions coming from her insightful brother. Tresta thought a moment, imagining how she might react to a kiss from Tarran and her heart began to race. She was immediately intrigued by it although, in truth, this wasn’t the first time her thoughts had leaned in that direction with him.

  It was becoming easier and easier as time went by.

  “For
a man, you are very wise,” she said, smiling weakly. “You have given me much to think on, Hallam, and I am grateful. But this whole situation… it has been so difficult and confusing.”

  She hung her head, putting her apron to her face to dry her tears. Hallam squeezed her hand and stood up.

  “I know,” he said. “Mayhap it would be best if you and Tarran spend a few days away from each other. It might help you think more clearly.”

  Tresta nodded her head. “Mayhap,” she said. “He wants to go north to recruit more men for our army.”

  “Let him go. The separation might do you good.”

  “Will you tell him? I do not think I can face him right now.”

  Hallam took her by the hand and pulled her to her feet. “I will,” he said. “Do not worry so. Everything will work out as it should. But if I can make a personal plea? Give Tarran a chance. I do believe you need him as much as he needs you.”

  Tresta forced a smile and kissed her brother on the cheek before heading out of the stable. Hallam watched her go before thinking he’d better find Tarran. The perfect knight was having a vulnerable moment and could possibly need someone to talk to. Not that Tarran was the chatty type, but every man needed a friend now and again. Hallam was the closest thing he had to one.

  It was just a hunch he had.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  He was leaving.

  Well, not exactly leaving, but he was going to go north to recruit more men for Snow Hill’s army just as he’d told Tresta. He was so embarrassed about his outburst that he couldn’t look her in the face. Perhaps a few days away would ease that shame to the point where he might actually be able to speak with her again.

  He’d spoken of things to Tresta that he had never wanted to say, at least not the way he’d done it. Certainly, at some point he intended to press his suit, but her talk of him being one of the family had thrown him over the edge and into a free fall of emotion. All of the things he wanted to say came spilling out and the look on her face had been one of shock… or had he seen revulsion? Or had he only imagined it? In any case, he was going to leave for a few days and try to recover his composure.

  He was in his chamber in the knights’ quarters of Snow Hill, a nice stone building situated against the castle walls that had once housed Gilbert and William as well as himself. There was a small common room and Tarran was just only now coming to terms with the grief that room provoked every time he walked into it. He and Gilbert and William had many long, late-night conversations in that room over the years. He missed his friends.

  He missed them all.

  “Tarran?”

  There was a knock at his open door and he turned to see Hallam standing there. The pale young man smiled timidly when their eyes met and he entered the room, looking at the half-filled satchel on the bed.

  “I see you’re leaving,” he said. “Tresta said you were going north to recruit more men.”

  Tarran nodded as he crammed a rolled up tunic into the saddlebag. “The visitor we had last night said that he had a lot of men on his land loyal to England,” he said. “Did you hear him say that? I thought that I could venture up there and see if I can recruit men for our army.”

  Hallam slapped him affectionately on the back. “Loyal Tarran,” he said. “You are the truest, most dedicated man in all of England. We are very fortunate to have you.”

  Tarran’s movements slowed until he finally came to a pause. Something in Hallam’s tone seemed more complimentary than usual and he knew why.

  “She told you, didn’t she.”

  It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. Hallam lowered himself into a small chair next to the door. “Aye,” he said honestly. “She told me. I thought you might need a friend to talk to.”

  Tarran resumed his packing, but his movements were bordering on rough and angry now. “There is nothing to say,” he said. “I appreciate your coming, Hallam, but there is nothing more to say. Unfortunately, I have already said it all.”

  Hallam watched him shove more things into the saddlebag. “Tarran,” he said quietly. “It is not as bad as all that. Did you stop to think that mayhap she has been thinking the same thing all along?”

  Tarran stopped and looked at him. “That is not true,” he said. “She has been grieving her husband, as she should be. I am a despicable man for trying to interfere with that.”

  “You are not interfering,” Hallam said. “Tarran, Teague is never coming back. He is dead. He has no more use for his wife, who is now a widowed woman and free to remarry whom she chooses. You have been a kind, honorable man and my sister is more grateful for that than you will ever know. What if I told you that she has feelings for you, but she has felt very guilty about it?”

  Tarran’s brow furrowed as he pondered that. He had another rolled tunic in his hand but he sat down on the bed, still holding it, his features full of confusion.

  “Guilty for what?” he said. “She has nothing to feel guilty for. I am the one who is to blame.”

  Hallam shook his head. “You are not hearing me,” he said. “I asked her if she thought that she could love you, with time, but she told me that she believes she already does. However, she is not ready to let go of Teague yet. Tarran, if you want my thoughts on this matter, I will tell you – I want to see my sister happy again. I know you could make her happy. You have told her how you feel so now she knows. If you are patient with her, I believe she’ll eventually let go of Teague and focus on the living – you. Are you willing to be patient?”

  Tarran drew in a long, thoughtful breath. “I would wait forever if necessary,” he said. “It’s strange, Hallam… the Tresta who was married to Teague seems like a different woman from the one I’ve come to know since our return from Le Touquet. That Tresta was demanding, stubborn, dramatic… do you know that she told me the reason she wanted to go to The Levant with Teague was because she has an ailment in her lungs that may eventually kill her? She wanted to die with Teague. She was so afraid of being separated from him. But since our return, I have seen a strong, determined, but reasonable woman. She still has coughing spells, but she is nowhere close to dying. It’s as if… as if Teague’s death forced her to grow up. She became the woman she was always meant to be.”

  Hallam smiled faintly. “She married Teague very young,” he said. “I think there was part of her who still saw herself as young and immature, and he let her get away with it. He coddled her, loved her, but I think he liked her that way. He liked taking care of a young wife. But she’s no longer young and I think you are correct – his death forced her to grow up.”

  Tarran thought on Teague, on Tresta, looking absently at the tunic in his hands as he did so. “She will make a fine wife for any man,” he said quietly. “I suppose I never imagined that she could ever be for me.”

  “She can. You must be patient.”

  Tarran stood up again, resuming packing at a slower pace. “I am going north for a few days and it will give me time to think,” he said. “Mayhap it will give her time to think, too.”

  Hallam nodded. “I had suggested the very same thing to Tresta,” he said. “You two have been together every day since those days at Calais. I think a few days apart, to think about what you both want, will do you a world of good.”

  Tarran tied off the full saddlebag. “Hopefully,” he said. Then, he paused. “When I entered this chamber, I was absolutely mortified at my behavior. But now… now, I think I’m glad I said what I did. I suppose time will tell.”

  Hallam smiled at him and stood up. “Time heals all things,” he said. “It is something there is an abundance of these days. Now, I will collect the fat brown horse and prepare him for a possible sale. When is this man coming to see him?”

  Tarran shook his head. “I am not certain,” he said, going with the change of focus. “It was the visitor from last night and he said he would return next week, but with this weather, it is difficult to know. But I am all packed up here, so I will come to the stable with you. Let�
��s speak on the price we intend to ask. I know what I paid for the horse, but if I am to sell him, I want to make some money from it.”

  Hallam agreed. As they headed through the door, however, Tarran stopped him.

  “Back to the subject of your sister,” he said. “For what you said just now… thank you. Teague had a big stable of knights, bigger than some with me and Sheen, William and Gilbert, and sometimes you were left at the end of all things. You did not foster as we did, you did not share some of the same experiences as we did given that you were a merchant’s son and Teague knighted you, but you have excellent qualities that I am ashamed to say I sometimes overlooked. I will not make the same mistake again.”

  Hallam smiled at the admission. “I wanted very much to be like you and Teague and William and Gilbert,” he said. “I knew that I was not, but I tried very hard. Your words mean a great deal to me, Tarran. Next to Teague, you are the man I most hoped to emulate.”

  Tarran grinned, patting the man on the head. “You are well on your way, Hallam,” he said. “Well on your way.”

  With a new spirit of camaraderie between them, they headed out to the stable where the fat horses were getting fatter. The bright sun overhead was melting the snow and over near the keep, they could see the big pair and the little pair still playing their games, only now it was the big pair destroying the castle that the little pair was rebuilding. The screams of Jasper and Rhys filled the bailey as Hector broke up the fight, leaving Tarran and Hallam to laugh at the antics as they headed into the stable.

  Tresta was gone, thankfully for Tarran, and he headed over to the warmblood that they purposely kept stabled away from Arion, who had taken a distinct dislike to the animal. It had been a challenge keeping them separated on the journey home from La Touquet, so Tarran thought he would move Arion into a corral outside so he could enjoy some sunlight while he and Hallam tended to the warmblood. The animal had been affectionately named Muet, a French term for silent or speechless, because he never made a sound. The horse was actually quite docile, which made Arion’s reaction to him confusing.