Bolson shook his head. “Nay, Garek. Not so. I have spoken with William about Brianna, and he has decided to give her to me.”
Before he was aware of what was happening, Bolson was lifted from the floor by Garek’s mighty hands, his toes scraping the planks beneath him. Garek had raised a huge fist in readiness to strike when Marie entered the room.
Her eyes popped open wide, her face drained of color. Giving a frightened shriek, she fled from the room.
Bolson’s hands hung limply at his sides, for he refused to fight his liege and friend. He well understood Garek’s anger, but Garek needed to be made to understand a few things as well.
Garek blinked his eyes at the now empty doorway, the killing fire of his anger cooling somewhat. Slowly he released Bolson from his grasp.
The younger knight straightened his clothes, his gaze never leaving Garek’s face.
“Be gone before I kill you.” Garek’s voice was softly menacing.
“Garek, listen to me. You are my friend.”
Murderous gray eyes turned his way. “Pull your sword now and I will give lie to your words.”
Bolson sighed. Perhaps now was not the time to speak, but if not now, he might never be able to have his say. Even in such a rage, surely Garek could be made to see reason.
“Will you marry Brianna yourself?” he asked.
A low growl came from the huge knight. “It is none of your affair.”
“I disagree,” Bolson continued, undaunted by the obvious threat to his own life. “Cannot you see how many lives will be affected by this. . .this whole affair? Will you break your vow to William? To Marie Waverly?” Helplessly, he held out his arms at his sides. “Think, Garek. Will you marry Marie and keep Brianna as your mistress?”
Garek took a step toward Bolson, his hands clenching at his sides, but Bolson continued.
“Would you do that to Brianna? Would you? I have seen the love she has for you. Will she give herself willingly to you when you are married to another?”
Garek restrained his fury with difficulty. Slowly, Bolson’s words penetrated the red hot haze of his anger. Could he break his vow to William? To Marie? Could he make Brianna so forget herself and her honor that she would come to him anyway, whether he was married or not? The thought made his blood run hot, then swiftly turn to ice.
He looked Bolson in the eye, both men sending and receiving messages.
“Why do you want her?” Garek asked softly.
Bolson dropped his eyes. How could he make Garek see? Brianna was everything a man could truly desire in a woman. Kind, gentle, honest, giving. A man could rule the world with such a woman by his side, not that he had such aspirations himself.
“I do not wish to see her hurt.”
“You do not love her.”
Bolson sighed. “In my own way I do.”
Mary entered the room, laying a trencher of meat on the trellis table. Her eyes were rimmed in red, evidence of a recent weep.
Both men watched her silently until she retreated from the room. Garek turned to his friend.
“I thought your desires ran elsewhere.”
“I told you once before: I am a man, not some boy to play games with.”
The silence grew uncomfortably long between them. Finally Garek spoke, and his words had the ring of steel.
“Regardless of what William has promised you, you will not have her.”
Bolson lifted his mantle from the stool before the fire. He gave back glare for glare. “Tell it to William when he arrives in a fortnight. Yea, Garek. Tell it to him.”
Garek watched Bolson leave, his own emotions in a tangle. He had loved the younger knight as one would a younger brother. But now he felt like slaying him with his own hands. What was this curious mixture of pride in the lad, and murderous intent toward him? Bolson had grown strong and proud. Now that he had dared to challenge Garek, what would be next?
❧
Brianna smiled at the young lad standing before her, twisting his cap nervously in his hands. His head was bowed in shame.
“It is no shame to need help, Andrew,” she told him quietly. “Everyone needs help at one time or another.”
He glanced at her. “Yea, Brianna, but it is hard to do so when you are strong and can easily work.”
“Have you talked to the lord of the manor?”
The lad’s face twisted in anger. “Bah! I would rather be like Beowulf and slay him in his castle.” Seeing the look on her face, he relented. “I am sorry, Brianna.”
Trying to keep her feelings to herself, Brianna asked him, “You see Lord Garek as Grendel, then?”
“Aye. All Normans.”
Brianna sighed. “Lord Garek is no monster, Andrew. He is a good man, and generous. You would do well to seek him out and tell him of your needs.”
The lad’s lips set mutinously. “I would rather die!”
“And Jenna with you?”
Andrew’s shoulders sagged, and Brianna knew she had scored a point. “She is with child now, is she not?”
“Aye.”
“And you would wish your own son dead as well?”
He glared back at her in impotent rage. Brianna shook her head gently. “It is time for us to put aside our differences and turn to the work of living instead of dying. Remember, Andrew, that King William has the blessing of the church.”
Andrew’s face paled as the truth of what she said set in. To fight against William was to fight against the church itself.
Brianna handed the lad the sack she had prepared for him. He took it reluctantly.
“There are enough vegetables and bread to last you several days.” She took the lad’s hand gently into her own. “Go to Lord Garek, Andrew. Tell him what a strong worker you are. Give him a chance. Give King William a chance.”
Nodding his bowed head, he left.
Brianna returned to the garden where she had been working. Many of the nuns were already hard at work weeding and picking. The convent grew enough vegetables to feed themselves and still help others.
Only those who took the simple perpetual vows worked the gardens and helped in the hospital. Those who took solemn vows spent their time only in prayer and meditation.
Brianna knew that, for her, joy came from helping others, and that if she took her vows, they would be simple ones. She was reluctant to think on the matter much now, because she knew that once she made the commitment, there would be no turning back.
Brianna spent most of her time in quiet meditation, reflecting on God’s love for her—but more often on her own love for Garek. Try as she might, she could not shake his image from her mind. Already three weeks had passed since she had fled the castle, but her memories would not dim. Even now her lips tingled when she thought of Garek’s kisses.
She helped the nuns around the convent but many of them had very little to say to her. Some were truly pious, others were biding their time until their wealthy families would free them from monastic life to be joined in marriage to some landed gentleman.
Brianna’s one solace was her dog, Loup. She showered on him all the love she had stored inside her, and the beast grew under her care.
Thinking herself safe from Garek’s searching, Brianna had taken to going for walks along the bank of the river that flowed through the village and past the manor. Although the convent was close to the manor, it was secluded and rarely visited.
Brianna needed the exercise as well, but she took the walks mainly for Loup’s benefit. She watched the dog with loving eyes, his huge form well rounded from good food and exercise. She wondered briefly about his breeding, realizing by his size and stature that he must have some wolf in his bloodline. It was hard to remember him as that scrawny little pup she had spent hours coaxing to drink from the glove finger.
Entering the woods that ran parallel to the river, Brianna sighed as she took a deep breath of the rich loam of the forest floor. The musky scent filled her with satisfaction. She had always loved the forest and had never been
afraid to venture there.
The sun shone brightly, sending its warming rays peeking through the limbs of the forest trees. The warmth of the sun enhanced the loamy scent pervading the air around her.
The foreboding silence finally penetrated her musings and she felt the hair tingle along the back of her neck. Something was not right. All sounds within the forest seemed to have ceased.
Loup had stopped his own gamboling and now stood alert, ears forward, his nose testing the scents on the faint breeze that so gently stirred the leaves on the trees. Rustlings in the underbrush warned them of something moving their way.
Brianna felt herself frozen to the spot, fear worming its way through her body. Shaking her head, she scolded herself. What have I to fear in these woods so close to the convent? Surely nothing could harm me here. It was probably some small animal that was as frightened of me as I was of it.
The hair rose on the back of Loup’s neck and a slow rumble began to come from deep within his chest. When a huge animal lunged from the cover of the forest, Brianna was unprepared. Jerking herself back, she twisted her ankle and fell to the ground.
A massive black wolf glared menacingly at her, white froth foaming from its mouth. Snarling and growling, it began to stagger toward her, its tongue swollen and hanging from gaping jaws.
Brianna’s eyes widened in real fear, for unless she was very mistaken, this beast had the foaming sickness that made animals and men alike run mad.
Loup’s low growls turned to snarls of warning that the animal was too mindless to heed. Loup could not possibly win such a conflict, for although he was a large dog, he was nothing compared to the beast creeping toward Brianna.
Fearing for his safety she commanded him to stay, but for the first time she could remember, the dog paid her no heed. He was intent on protecting his mistress.
Loup launched himself at the wolf, careful to stay a short distance away. He was a smart dog, but he was also committed to defending her. Hearing Loup’s growls so close by, the wolf hesitated, his great head swinging toward the dog.
“Nay, Loup. Stay!” Brianna commanded, her voice shrill with fear. She had managed to raise herself to her feet, but she knew she could not outrun the animal. Her ankle had twisted when she fell and now throbbed painfully.
Remembering that those with the madness feared water, Brianna began to inch her way toward the river. At her movement, the wolf’s head swung back to her, his vacuous eyes gleaming. He slowly began lumbering toward her again, and without warning Loup catapulted himself at the black beast, his fangs sinking into the wolf’s neck.
Squealing in fury, the wolf turned his attack on his assailant. Brianna watched in horror as both animals reared back on their hind legs, their fangs snapping and ripping at each other.
The wolf’s sickness had weakened him enough that Loup could hold his own, but the crazy animal fought mindlessly, finally pinning Loup to the ground.
“Nay!” Brianna screamed, trying to move closer to the animals. Her ankle twisted beneath her and she again fell to the ground. Frustrated, she lifted her head in time to see Loup make it to his feet.
Loup, using all the skill his instincts had instilled in him, fought bravely until finally the wolf, weak and tired, fell to the ground.
The dog stood staring at his fallen foe, a slow whine escaping him. Ears twitching, he turned his head to Brianna.
Calling him to her side, Brianna began to cry. “You foolish dog! He could have killed you! You brave, brave dog.”
Tears continued flowing down her cheeks as she checked the dogs injuries. Although bloody and torn, he seemed in high spirits.
A low snarl brought Brianna to her feet, and Loup whirling to face his enemy. The bloody wolf staggered toward them again, his now bloody tongue hanging to one side.
Unsure of what to do, Brianna hung onto the leather thong around Loup’s neck. Again she tried to back them toward the water, but Loup was reluctant to go. His eyes remained fastened on his opponent.
The wolf tensed his body in preparation for a lunge. Even in his weakened state, the animal’s strength was incredible, and he propelled himself unerringly toward them.
Letting out a scream, Brianna instinctively covered her face with her arms, thereby missing the sight of the huge beast impaled in midair by the arrow from a long bow. The sudden sound of horses hooves brought Brianna’s head snapping around. She stared wordlessly into Garek’s angry gray eyes.
Dismounting, he quickly made his way to the wolf, his lips turning down when he noticed the white foam. Anxious eyes turned Brianna’s way.
“You are well?”
Nodding, Brianna let loose her hold on Loup’s thong. Deep impressions cut grooves along her palm.
“Loup saved my life,” she told him huskily, her knees beginning to quiver like the rustling leaves.
Garek crossed rapidly to her side. “Did the beast bite you?”
Brianna shook her head. “Nay, only Loup.”
The look that passed through his eyes as he glanced down at the dog was quickly hidden. “You are certain the animal did not touch you? Not even to scratch you?”
Frowning, Brianna again shook her head. “Nay, I tell you. Only Loup.” She reached for the dog’s lead. “I must take him and see about his wounds.”
Garek took the lead from her nerveless fingers. He motioned to Sir Barough, who was sitting quietly watching the whole scene.
The knight walked his horse over to stand beside them. Garek placed his hands around Brianna’s waist and lifted her to the pommel in front of Barough. The two knights exchanged knowing glances.
Turning his horse, Barough headed back to the manor at a swift trot. Confused, Brianna turned her head, trying to see over his shoulder.
“Wait! What are you going to do?”
Neither man answered her. Garek looked down at the dog that was trying to go after Brianna. He held the lead tightly, waiting until the two were nearly out of sight.
Before they rounded the bend, Brianna caught Garek’s look, and in that instant, she knew.
“Nay! Garek, nay!”
They were halfway to the castle when Brianna saw the smoke climbing from the woods. Burying her face in her hands, she began to sob uncontrollably. Barough glanced at her bent head and felt her grief. Swallowing hard, he hurried his steed forward. Better to give her over to someone who could deal with her tears; as for him, he could not.
They reached the castle courtyard amid cries from the guardhouse, and Sir Bolson was the first to reach their side. His eyes went wide at the sight of Brianna on the horse, weeping as though her very heart were breaking.
Sir Barough handed Brianna into Sir Bolson’s waiting arms, their eyes meeting over her head. “Her dog was bitten by a wolf with the foaming sickness.”
When Brianna looked into Bolson’s eyes, his were filled with sympathy and gentle understanding. Her own filled with more tears, and laying her head against his shoulder, she allowed him to carry her inside.
eleven
Garek strode across the courtyard and climbed the stairs to the great hall above. Without hesitation he made his way to the kitchen. Trying to control his temper, he opened the door more quietly than he normally would.
Brianna stood looking out the window and Garek knew she couldn’t help but see the billows of black smoke rising from the woods. Mary was at her side, one arm lovingly about Brianna’s waist. Both women turned at his entrance.
“Leave us,” Garek commanded Mary without taking his eyes from Brianna.
Reluctantly Mary made her way across the room, glancing once at the lord of the manor. His features seemed cast in stone, and Mary hastily retreated from the room.
Closing the door behind her, Garek leaned back against it. “You have been at the convent all of this time?” he asked quietly.
Brianna nodded, turning back to the window.
Garek crossed to her side. His fingers itched to touch her, to make sure she was real. Night after night he had pict
ured her in his mind until, after nearly a month, he had almost begun to believe she had been a figment of his imagination.
He didn’t know what to say. Clearing his throat, he thought to comfort her and assuage his own guilt feelings at the same time.
“I had to kill him. You know that, do you not?”
Tears sprang again to her eyes and she stared at him blankly. He went to take her into his arms, but she pulled away from him.
“Could you not have let me try to save him? He saved my life.”
“I am most grateful for that, Brianna. More than you can possibly know. But I could not take the chance. Think of all the children in this shire.”
Brianna knew he was right but still felt that the Lord would have spared Loup. “I could have caged him. I could have cleaned and treated his wounds. Maybe he would not have developed the sickness.”
This time Garek did take her in his arms, and she buried her face against his chest. They both knew her tears were for more than just the dog, loved though he had been.
Garek nuzzled the top of her head with his chin. “Would you be able to cage him? Could you tolerate seeing him every day pleading for release? And when the sickness came, could you kill him then? Is he not better off this way?”
“Oh, Garek,” she cried. It was all she could say. Her heart was sore, her mind numb. Nothing had changed. Everything had changed.
“Macherie,” Garek whispered, “lean on my strength.”
And for a moment, she did just that. She sniffled into his chest, feeling secure for the first time in a long while. “How did you know where to find me?”
She could feel the chuckle vibrate from his chest. “A certain young villein by the name of Andrew.”
She leaned back in surprise, her eyes searching his face. “Andrew came to see you?”
“Aye. He made it quite clear to me his own feelings on the matter, but he said he was not one to go against the church. Was this your doing, m’amoure?”
Brianna shook her head. “Andrew is a good lad. He only needed to be reminded of the truth.”
His gaze devoured her face as though he couldn’t get enough of her. It was like receiving someone back from the grave, for they had all assumed by now that Brianna was dead.
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