Outside, with the Peregrine knights mounted and waiting to ride, the big white falcon banner before them, Liana felt a momentary terror. She was leaving all that she knew behind and trusting her fate to these strangers. She stood frozen where she was and looked for her husband.
Rogan, atop a big roan stallion, came riding in front of her, so close she put up her arm to shield her face from flying gravel. “Mount and ride, woman,” he said, and moved to the head of his men.
Liana hid her clenched fists in the folds of her skirt. Swallow anger, she thought, and tried to calm herself at his rudeness.
Out of the dust came Rogan’s brother, Severn, and he smiled at her. “May I help you mount, my lady?” he asked.
Liana relaxed and smiled at this handsome man. He was as ill dressed as Rogan had been and his dark golden hair was too long and ragged at the edges, but at least he was smiling at her. She put her hand on his extended arm. “I would be honored,” she said, and walked with him toward her waiting horse.
Liana was just mounted when Rogan rode back to them. He did not look at her, but he scowled at his brother.
“If you are through playing lady’s maid, come with me,” Rogan demanded.
“Perhaps your wife would like to ride in front with us,” Severn said pointedly over Liana’s head.
“I want no women,” Rogan snapped, still not glancing at Liana.
“I don’t think—” Severn began, but Liana cut him off.
Even she knew that she would not please her husband by being the cause of an argument with his brother. “I would rather stay here,” she said loudly. “I will feel safer surrounded by the men, and you, sir,” she said to Severn, “are needed by…by my husband.”
Severn frowned for a moment as he looked at her. “As you wish,” he said, and with a little bow he rode away from her, to position himself beside his brother at the head of the line.
“Oh excellent, my lady,” Joice said as she came to ride beside her mistress. “You have pleased him now. Lord Rogan will like an obedient wife.”
As they rode through the courtyard, across the drawbridge, and onto the dusty road, Liana sneezed at the dust. “I have been the obedient wife, but now I must ride behind ten men on horses and half a dozen wagons,” she muttered.
“You will win in the end, though,” Joice said. “You will see. Once he sees that you are obedient and loyal, he will love you.”
Liana coughed at the dust and rubbed her nose. It was difficult to think of love and loyalty when one had a mouthful of dirt.
They rode for hours, Liana remaining where she was in the middle of the procession, none of her husband’s men talking to her. The only voice she heard was Joice’s, lecturing her on obedience and duty, and when Severn asked her if she was comfortable, Joice answered for her mistress, saying that if Lord Rogan wanted his wife here, then of course Lady Liana was happy where she was.
Liana gave Severn a weak smile and choked on a cloud of dust.
“That one shows far too much interest in you,” Joice said when Severn was gone. “You had better let him know his place right away.”
“He is only being kind,” Liana said.
“If you accept his kindness, you will cause problems between the brothers. Your husband will wonder where your loyalties lie.”
“I am not sure my husband has yet looked at me,” Liana mumbled to herself.
Joice smiled through the cloud of dust that surrounded them. With each day she was feeling more and more powerful. As a child, Lady Liana had never listened to her and several times Joice had been punished because Liana had escaped her rule and gotten into some mischief. But at long last here was something she knew which her mistress didn’t.
They rode well into the night and Liana knew Joice and her other six maids were drooping with exhaustion, but she did not dare ask her husband to stop. Besides, Liana was too excited to rest. Tonight would be her wedding night. Tonight she would lie all night in her husband’s arms. Tonight he would caress her, touch her hair, kiss her. A day spent riding in a little dust was worth such a nightly reward.
By the time they did stop to make camp, her senses were alive with anticipation. One of the knights perfunctorily helped her dismount, and Liana told Joice to see to the other women. Liana looked about for her husband and saw him disappearing into the trees.
Behind her, Liana was vaguely aware of the complaints of her women, who weren’t used to riding horses such a distance, but she had no time for them. Taking her time, and trying to act casually, she followed her husband into the woods.
Rogan answered a call of nature in the woods, then walked deep into the still darkness toward the little stream. With every step he took, his muscles tightened harder. It had taken longer to get here than when he traveled without wagonloads of goods, and now the darkness was so complete he had to feel his way along the bank.
It was a while before he found the cairn, the six-foot-high pile of stones that he’d built to mark where his eldest brother, Rowland, had fallen to a Howard blade. He stood for a moment, his eyes adjusting to the faint moonlight on the gray stones, and heard the sounds of battle once again in his head. Rowland and his brothers had been hunting and Rowland, feeling safe since they were two days’ ride from the Howards’ land—the Peregrine land, in truth—had walked away from the protection of his men and sat by the river to drink a jug of beer alone.
Rogan knew why his older brother wanted to be alone and why he so often drank himself into a stupor each night. He was haunted by the deaths of three brothers and their father—all at the hands of the Howards.
Rogan had watched his beloved brother walk off into the darkness and he hadn’t tried to stop him, but he’d signaled a knight to follow and keep watch over his brother, to protect him while he lay in drunken oblivion.
Rogan looked at the stones and remembered, and once again cursed himself for having fallen asleep that night. Some small sound woke him, or maybe it wasn’t a sound but a premonition. He jumped from his pallet on the ground, grabbed his sword, and started running. But he was too late. Rowland lay beside the stream, a Howard sword through his throat, pinning him to the ground. The knight who guarded him was also dead, his throat slashed.
Rogan had thrown his head back and given a long, loud, piercing cry of agony.
His men and Severn were beside him instantly and they tore the woods apart looking for the Howard attackers. They found two of the men, distant cousins of Oliver Howard’s, and Rogan made sure their deaths were long and slow. He ended one man’s life when the man mentioned Jeanne.
The demise of the two Howards did nothing to bring back his brother, nor did it lessen Rogan’s sense of responsibility now that he was the eldest of the Peregrines. Now it was his job to protect Severn and young Zared. He had to protect them, provide for them, and most of all, he had to get the Peregrine lands back, the lands the Howards had stolen from his grandfather.
His senses were dulled with memory, but at a snapping branch he whirled and put his sword to the throat of the person behind him. It was a girl, and for a moment he couldn’t remember who she was. Yes, the one he’d married that morning. “What do you want?” he snapped. He wanted to be alone with his thoughts and his memories of his brother.
Liana looked down at the sword pointed at her throat and swallowed. “Is that a grave?” she asked hesitantly, remembering every word Helen had said about the violence of these men. He could kill her now that he had her dowry, and all he had to do was say he’d found her with another man and he would escape unpunished.
“No,” Rogan said curtly, having no intention of telling her about his brother, or anything else for that matter. “Go back to the camp and stay there.”
It was on the tip of Liana’s tongue to tell him she’d go where she pleased, but Joice’s warning to be obedient echoed in her head. “Yes, of course I’ll return,” she said meekly. “Will you return with me?”
Rogan wanted to stay where he was, but at the same time he did
n’t want her walking in the woods alone. For all that he couldn’t remember her name, she was a Peregrine now and therefore an enemy of the Howards. They would no doubt love to hold another Peregrine woman captive. “All right,” he said reluctantly. “I’ll return with you.”
Liana felt a little thrill of pleasure run through her body. Joice was right, she thought. She had meekly obeyed her husband and he was walking her back to the camp. She waited for him to offer her his arm, but he didn’t. Instead, he turned his back on her and started walking. Liana ran after him for a few steps, but then her gown caught on a fallen log. “Wait!” she called. “I’m caught.”
Rogan came back to her and, as always, Liana’s heart seemed to beat a little faster when he was near.
“Move your hands,” he said.
Liana looked into his eyes, saw the way the moonlight made them sparkle, and was aware of nothing else—until he brought his sword down on the log and hacked away a big piece of her skirt. She gaped at the hole and was utterly speechless. That embroidered silk had cost her quarterly rents from six farms!
“Now, come on,” he commanded, and turned his back on her again.
Swallow! she commanded herself. Fight the anger down and do not display it. A woman is always loving and kind. A woman does not point out her husband’s faults. Fighting her anger, she began to follow him and wondered if he was looking forward to their wedding night with as much anticipation as she was.
With every step he took, Rogan remembered ever more vividly his brother’s death. Two years’ time had done very little to dull the memory. Here he and Rowland had talked of buying horses. Here he and Rowland had talked of James and Basil’s deaths eight years before. Here Rowland had spoken of protecting Zared. Here—
“Could you tell me something of your castle? I’ll need to know where to hang my tapestries.”
Rogan had forgotten the girl was with him. William, who had been three years older than Rogan, died as a boy of eighteen. His dying words were to get the Peregrine lands back and that would make sense of his death.
“Is it a large place?” the girl asked.
“No,” he answered gruffly. “It is very small. It’s the discards of the Howard bitch.” He halted at the edge of the forest and gaped at the campsite. Before him was a sea of big feather mattresses on the ground. They might as well set up torches and blow trumpets to announce their whereabouts to the Howards.
Angrily, he strode across the campsite to reach his brother, who was talking and smiling at one of the Neville maids. He punched his brother’s shoulder to turn him around.
“What stupidity is this?” he demanded. “Why not invite the Howards down on our heads?”
Severn pushed Rogan’s shoulder. “We’re well guarded, and there are only a few mattresses for the women.”
Rogan punched Severn’s chest. “I want them out of sight. The women can sleep on the ground or they can go back to Neville.”
Severn doubled his fist and planted it in Rogan’s chest, but his heavier brother didn’t waver. “Some of the men want to sleep with the women.”
“All the better that they do not sleep too well. If a Howard comes, we’ll be ready—as we were not ready the night Rowland was butchered.”
Severn nodded at that and went to tell the men to stow the feather cushions.
At the edge of the forest, Liana stood and watched her husband and brother-in-law punch each other as if they were sworn enemies. She held her breath for fear their fight would erupt into bloodshed, but after a few minutes of low, guttural sentences, they separated, and Liana released her breath. She looked about her and saw some of her women staring, but none of the Peregrine knights seemed to take any notice of their masters’ rough exchange. Yet Liana knew that any one of those blows would have felled most men.
At that moment, Joice came running to her, her face contorted with emotion. “My lady, they have no tents. We are to sleep on the ground.” She said the last with horror.
Usually when they traveled, Liana, her father and stepmother, and most of the women, if they were not guests of another landowner, slept in sumptuous tents. Since they moved most of their furniture with them from castle to castle, the beds and even tables were set up inside the tents.
“And there is no hot food,” Joice continued. “We have only cold meats that were taken from your wedding feast. Two of the women are in tears.”
“Then they’ll have to dry their tears,” Liana snapped. “You have told me that a good wife does not complain. That goes as well for her maids.” Liana was much too excited about the prospect of the coming night to worry about cold meats and tents.
At a noise, both turned to see the Peregrine knights removing the feather pallets from the ground and returning them to inside the wagons.
“No!” Joice gasped, and went toward the men.
For the next hour, all was chaos as Liana settled her maids to sleeping on the ground under the stars. She removed bags full of furs from the wagons and had them put on the ground, skin side down, and this helped mollify the tears. A few of the Peregrine knights put their arms around the women and comforted them.
Liana had furs placed outside the camp, in the deep shade of an oak tree, for herself. Joice helped her remove her mutilated gown and put on a clean linen nightshirt, then Liana lay down and waited. And waited. And waited. But Rogan did not come to her. She had not slept the night before, and that and the long journey made her sleep even though she tried to stay awake to greet him. But she went to sleep with a smile on her lips, knowing how her husband would wake her.
Rogan lay down on the coarse woolen blankets near Severn, where he always slept on their journeys.
Sleepily, Severn turned to him. “I thought you had a wife now.”
“The Howards attack and I’m thrusting away at some girl,” Rogan said sarcastically.
“She’s a pretty little thing,” Severn said.
“If you like rabbits. The only way I can tell which one she is is by the color of her dress. Is today Thursday?”
“Yes,” Severn answered. “And we’ll be home Saturday night.”
“Ah, then,” Rogan said softly. “I’ll not have rabbit for dinner on Saturday.”
Severn turned away and went to sleep while Rogan lay awake for another hour. His memories in this spot were too strong to allow him to sleep. His mind was filled with plans of what he’d do with the Neville gold now that he had it. There were war machines to build, knights to hire and equip, food to be purchased for the long siege ahead, for he knew that regaining the Peregrine lands was going to take a long, long time of warfare.
Not once did he think of his new wife, who waited for him on the opposite side of the camp.
The next morning Liana’s temper was not the best it had ever been. Joice came to her mistress with a stream of complaints from the maids. The Peregrine knights had been harsh in their lovemaking and two of the maids were bruised and sore.
“Better bruised and sore than well and comfortable,” Liana snapped. “Bring me the blue gown and headdress and tell the women to stop complaining or I’ll give them something to complain about.”
Liana saw her husband through the trees and once again choked her anger down. Were all marriages like this? Did all women suffer one injustice after another and have to bite their tongues? Was this truly the way to love?
She wore a blue satin gown with a gold belt set with diamonds. There were also small diamonds on the tall padded headdress she wore. Perhaps today he’d look at her with desire. Perhaps last night he had been shy about lying with her when his men were about. Yes, perhaps there were reasons for his behavior.
He didn’t greet her that morning. In fact, he walked past her once and didn’t even look at her. It was as if he didn’t recognize her.
Liana mounted her horse with the help of a knight and once again rode in the middle of the men, behind the dust and horse manure.
Toward midday she grew restless. She could see Severn and Rogan at the h
ead of the line talking earnestly and she wanted to know what interested them so much. She reined her horse to the side.
“My lady!” Joice said in alarm. “Where are you going?”
“Since my husband does not come to me, I will go to him.”
“You cannot,” Joice said, eyes wide. “Men do not like forward women. You must wait until he comes to you.”
Liana hesitated, but her boredom won out. “I will see,” she said, and kicked her horse forward until she rode beside her brother-in-law, Rogan next to him. Severn glanced at her; Rogan did not. But neither man gave her a word of greeting.
“We’ll need all the grain we can get,” Rogan was saying. “We’ll have to store it and ready ourselves.”
“And what about the fifty hectares along the north road? The peasants say the fields won’t produce and the sheep are dying.”
“Dying, ha!” Rogan snorted. “The bastards are no doubt selling them to passing merchants and keeping the coin. Send some men to burn a few houses and whip a few farmers and we’ll see if their sheep keep dying.”
Here was a place where Liana felt at home. Discussions of sheep and peasants were what had occupied her life for years. She didn’t think of “obeying” or of keeping her counsel to herself. “Terrorizing peasants never did any good,” she said loudly, not looking at either man. “First we must find out if what they say is true. It could be many things: The land could be overused, the water could be bad, or a curse could have been put on the sheep. If it’s none of these things and the peasants are cheating us, then we banish them. I’ve found that banishment works as well as torture, and it’s so much less…unpleasant. Once we get there, I shall look into it.” She turned to smile at the men.
Both of them were staring at her with their mouths open.
Liana didn’t understand their expressions at all. “It could also be the seeds,” she said. “One year a mold destroyed all our seed and—”
The Taming Page 7