Sword of Forgiveness (Winds of Change Book 1)

by Debbie Lynne Costello

  Something was different about her. He saw it in her eyes and in her actions. It spoke of her innocence without words. Yes, he knew she was, so why did he fight it?

  A chill passed over him. Because you are not good enough for her. Royce shook off the thought.

  He was tired of denying what he felt. Brithwin was beautiful, intelligent, and caring, and he called her wife. The time had come to make their marriage more than a word. He wasn’t good enough for her, but if she were willing to start anew, he intended to try. Would she be agreeable to forget the past? Did she care for him at all? She no longer spat my lord like the taste was bitter on her tongue. He chuckled. That was one tone he hoped never to hear come from those beautiful lips again.

  Treating her with respect had affected her attitude in a very positive way. But was there anything more than tolerance for him? He had seen interest in those eyes before, but had he waited too long? He wanted her to be his wife in every way. He wanted her to love him and for them to have a relationship like his parents’. One built on trust. He would hope that he hadn’t waited too long.

  He needed a plan—one that would confirm his words to her. He couldn’t continue in this fashion, longing for her from such close proximity, and keep his sanity.

  Royce spent the next few days formulating his plan. He wished he could pray for its success, but alas, it would do him no good. God was not on his side.

  †††

  Brithwin sat on her heels, pulling weeds from her garden. She loved being in her garden. The birdsong, the sunshine—God’s handiwork shone all around. Lifting a handful of dirt to breathe in its earthy scent, she smiled. How many people liked the smell of dirt?

  Thor, lying by her feet, pricked his ears.

  “Now, that is a sight I could get used to seeing.”

  Brithwin popped her head up. She had not heard Royce’s approach. Thor lifted his head as Royce drew near. “And what is that, my lord?”

  “You need not address me as my lord. I would like you to call me Royce.”

  Brithwin eyed him suspiciously. “’Tis not what I remember.”

  Royce sighed, meeting her gaze. “I spent much time pondering our situation.” He gave her a crooked grin. “Besides, surrender is so much sweeter when offered willingly.”

  What was he about now? She lowered her head and continued working. “What is it you want?”

  “A little of your time.”

  She glanced at Thor. He rested his head on his paws without a growl. She ran her hand through his wiry fur. “Do you not feel well, boy?”

  Royce cleared his throat.

  She shifted her gaze to him. “You wish me to do something for you?”

  “Do you still blame me?”

  “Nay, I do not. I can see you were a victim as much as I.” She grinned. “And Thomas told me the whole of it.”

  “Would you go riding with me, my lady? Shadowmere and Fearless could use a good run.”

  Trust. She must trust the Lord. He would direct her path. She must follow the path God had laid out for her. This was her husband, their marriage ordained by God. She paused, taking in his hair curled haphazardly around his face. Her hands itched to reach up and smooth the stray strand away from his eyes. A hesitant smile etched his face.

  Fighting the anxiety which built in her, she answered. “As you are aware, I left my horse with Murielle.”

  Royce shrugged. “I will have another mare saddled for you.”

  She rose, brushing the soil from her hands and her skirt. “I will go. I am sure the horses will enjoy the exercise.”

  He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture she’d grown accustomed to. “I had hoped you would enjoy it, my lady.”

  “I guess we shall have to see, then.” Brithwin gave him a sassy smirk.

  A grin crept across his face.

  Hoping his good humor would make him generous, she plunged in. “Thor has not had much time out either.”

  He gave a pained sigh. “Whatever my lady wishes.”

  Within half an hour, they were riding out the gate. Royce led as he guided his horse around the castle walls and away from the village. He stopped as they reached an open meadow.

  “Would you like to race to the other side of the field?” A challenge rang in his voice.

  Reaching behind her saddle, she lifted the cloth bag which held their lunch and handed it to Royce. “It will hardly be a fair race with your great war horse’s muscled body against this young mare, which has yet to fill out.”

  When his hand let go of the reins to take hold of the bag, Brithwin tossed it to him, slapped her mare, and yelled, “Ya.”

  Flattening her body against the horse and resting her head against its neck, she urged the mare on. A glance behind her told her Royce had realized what she was about and encouraged Shadowmere into a gallop.

  With her eyes closed, she took in the th-thump of hooves hitting the ground. Her body relaxed, and she and the horse moved as one. The wind worked her hair out of its plait, whipping it to and fro, stinging her skin and all the while cooling her body from the sun’s warm rays. The sweet aroma of the green grass beneath the horse’s pounding hooves rose around her like perfume. She drank it in until a second set of hoofbeats caught her attention. Opening her eyes, she could see the outstretched legs of Shadowmere digging up the ground and closing her lead.

  “Faster girl, faster!” She laughed as Thor barked in protest and fell behind. Royce moved beside her, but she refused to look at him, keeping her body flat, looking straight ahead to the edge of the meadow and victory.

  Feeling her triumph, Brithwin raised her body to see Royce overtake her and cross the edge of the field with a sparkle in his eyes and a grin on his face.

  He pulled his horse to a stop. Shadowmere lifted his feet and danced around. Once he brought the large destrier under control, he turned to Brithwin in mock astonishment. “I cannot believe you would cheat.”

  Brithwin laughed, enjoying the moment. “When I am at such a disadvantage, I must do all I can to impede my rival and benefit myself.”

  His easy smile let her know he saw through her words.

  They reached the stream and Royce dismounted, helping Brithwin from her horse. They guided their mounts to the water for a drink.

  Sitting near the stream, Brithwin spread her gown around her. She had enjoyed the run with Royce. It was turning into a fine day. She smiled as she let out a long sigh.

  Royce grabbed the cloth bag containing their lunch and pulled out a loaf of bread and lump of cheese. “Did you work up an appetite?”

  “I feel as if I have not eaten all day.” Her stomach rumbled in agreement and Royce laughed.

  After they finished their meal and drank water from the stream, Royce stretched out on the grass, lacing his fingers behind his head.

  Brithwin broke the lingering silence. “You have changed.”

  Rolling on to his side, he propped his head on his hand.

  Brithwin fidgeted “It is just that, you seem—”

  His gaze devoured her with eyes piercing through any armor. “I am deciding how to answer you. Nothing has changed, and yet much has changed. I have found myself drawn to you. You are to be admired.” He winked. “Even by those who think they are your enemy. You are beautiful. Then as I watched you, I was able to see you are every bit as beautiful within. You are kind to others, even those below your station. You have great forgiveness and always look for the best in people. You are different, Brithwin, from any woman I have ever known. I can no longer keep up this pretense. You have broken down my resistance. I do not wish to continue this indifference anymore.”

  Royce gently pulled Brithwin beside him and cupped her chin with his hand. “I want you as my wife,” he whispered. “I want to take care of you and to protect you. I want you in all ways.”

  Brithwin could not speak for fear it was a devilish trick.

  “My lady, I cannot continue like this.” Desperation twisted his features. “I would be your husband
in every way or not at all. ’Tis for you to choose.”

  †††

  He bent down and brushed his lips over hers, pausing to see if she would protest. When she didn’t, he returned, deepening the kiss, and drew her to him. Brithwin’s fingers wove through his hair and he stifled a moan. Her touch set him afire and he battled the desires within.

  With difficulty, he pulled back. “Milady, your answer. I beg you.”

  A brief struggle flashed across her face then disappeared, leaving a sweet light shining in her eyes. “Yes, my lord.”

  He kissed her again. Nearby, Thor growled low in his throat. The ill-tempered beast needed to learn his place.

  As the kiss lingered, Royce became aware of the silence. The hair on the back of his neck lifted. Stillness had enveloped the woods. Not an animal moved nor a bird chirped. Listening intently, Royce tilted his head as if to continue the kiss and in an almost inaudible voice whispered, “Do not move. We are being watched.”

  Chapter 16

  Royce tensed while shielding Brithwin with his body.

  How many men lurked out there? Perhaps a few, for if more roamed, he’d have heard them—as would Brithwin’s miserable beast of a dog. But then perhaps that was why he growled. The creature had skulked away and was now nowhere to be seen, when he could finally be of use.

  With Brithwin beside him, he couldn’t circle around and surprise the attackers and leave Brithwin unprotected. How could he have been so careless as to come out alone? His own desires had caused him to be reckless.

  “I will summon my horse. When I tell you, I want you to rise, and I will put you on him. You are to ride quickly, without looking back.” Royce kept his voice low but stern enough to brook no argument. “Do not stop until you reach Hawkwood.”

  When Brithwin opened her mouth to protest, he leaned down and covered her lips with his. Royce feared the ruse would not succeed but desperately hoped it would. Tension reigned in her unspoken objection, but he would not allow her to have a say in this. “My love,” he breathed, “if you trust me, do not question what I ask of you.”

  Speaking loud enough, he hoped, for the intruder’s ears, he lifted his head and gazed into Brithwin’s widened eyes. “Come love, let us get water to drink.”

  She rose at his bidding, and he gave a low whistle. Shadowmere lifted his head and drew near to them. Royce’s hands encompassed her waist, and he lifted her onto his horse. She gripped the reins.

  The crunch of a broken twig came from behind him. At Brithwin’s gasp, he swung around and faced two men with drawn swords. “Now, Brithwin!” He slapped the horse’s rump. Shadowmere bolted toward an opening in the woods. As his wife and horse drew near the opening and safety, another sword-wielding man stepped into their path.

  Fear jolted through his veins, shooting pain to his head. He sprinted toward her as his horse’s abrupt stop threw Brithwin from her seat. She flew through the air and crumpled to the ground. Two of the knights hemmed Royce in, and he fended them off, desperate to aid Brithwin. The other man lunged toward her. He couldn’t reach her.

  In a stolen second between thrust and parry, he loosed a high-pitched whistle. Shadowmere reared up and lashed out at the attackers with his murderous front hooves.

  Royce fought for their lives. Steel clanged. With his adversaries taking turns to wear him out, he could do little but defend himself. The taller, burly knight pressed Royce, forcing him away from Brithwin. In hopes of throwing his opponent, he spun around, swinging his sword as he went. The knight lost his footing, giving Royce an opening. With a strong, swift plunge of Royce’s sword, his enemy crumpled to the ground, leaving two men remaining.

  Now this was an even match. He quickly dispatched the second smaller knight and turned to the third.

  From the corner of his eye, he glimpsed Brithwin push herself to a sitting position. He shoved his adversary back, watching and moving toward Brithwin. She attempted to stand and collapsed to the ground. His gut clenched. The man continued to attempt to reach her, while staying out of Shadowmere’s reach. She scrambled toward the horse.

  That’s my girl! Stay close to Shadowmere.

  The knight circled behind Brithwin and wrapped his beefy arms around her. She twisted and kicked her feet at him, though her soft shoes would do little damage. The brute caught hold of her arm and wrenched it behind her back. She whimpered. The man sneered at Royce, filling him with rage. He would force him to lay down his sword. Only a miracle could save them now—if God would grant one to a man such as he. Royce moved closer to Brithwin and her attacker.

  An unearthly growl brought his attention around. Brithwin’s assailant cowered, staring into the face of an angry wolfhound. Thor pounced on the attacker, latched onto his leg, and gave a shake, forcing the man to release Brithwin as he fell to the ground, freeing his bloody leg from the wolfhound’s jaws. The man scrambled to his feet and fled into the woods.

  Feet pounded the ground and disappeared further into the woods. Royce fought the urge to give chase. He could overtake the man, but that would leave his wife vulnerable should there be anyone else lurking in the woods. Royce scanned the trees and undergrowth for more men. Thor sneezed and trotted into the undergrowth.

  Royce ran to Brithwin and knelt beside her. “Are you hurt?” Alert for sounds of further attack, he felt her limbs for broken bones.

  “I am fine, Royce.” Her lips trembled. “I just wish to return to Hawkwood.”

  “That we shall, my lady.”

  Thor silently emerged from the forest and returned to Brithwin’s side, blood smeared on the hair around his mouth. He gazed at Royce and lowered his head a finger’s breadth. Royce dropped his hand and cautiously patted the wolfhound’s head. “Brave dog. I am relieved you found me to your liking today.”

  The mare grazed placidly nearby, unaffected by all the ruckus. Royce gathered both horses. Lifting Brithwin, he brushed his lips across her brow, placed her on Shadowmere, and swung up behind her. He secured the mare’s tether to his mount and looked around at the clearing where he had hoped to begin the mending process of his marriage.

  Two knights lay dead, the other man’s fate unknown. A shudder went through his body. How close he had come to losing Brithwin. He firmly curled his arm about her. She sat with her back straight, head held high. This day he could add brave to the list of her attributes. Daffydd was right—he was a lucky man.

  He tapped the horse’s sides, and they headed home.

  Brithwin tipped her head and looked at him. “I could have ridden my horse, Royce. I told you I am uninjured.”

  “At least one man escaped, but I believe I heard another in the woods. ’Tis easier for me to keep you out of harm’s way like this.”

  Brithwin made a silent, “Oh,” and settled against Royce’s chest. Her soft body molded against his him, tantalizing his senses. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, reminding himself of her innocence.

  She glanced back at him. “What are you smiling for? We were nearly killed.”

  “I like that.”

  Brithwin’s eyebrows rose. “You may enjoy a fight, but I most certainly do not!” She jerked back around.

  He chuckled. “That is not what I speak of. You called me Royce.” His heart thrilled as he recalled the way his name rolled off her tongue. “I like the sound of my name on your lips.”

  She shifted. “You have trained your horse well.”

  He chuckled. “Are you changing the subject?”

  “Perhaps, Royce.”

  “In battle, a well-trained horse can mean life or death. I trained Shadowmere afore I went to my first battle.”

  “Where was that battle?”

  “Scotland.” He’d fought too many battles with the Scots. He shook off the recent memory.

  “Scotland?” She twisted to see him. “My mother’s family comes from Scotland. Pater, mother, and a group of travelers were traveling from there when they stopped by Hawkwood.”

  Royce swallowed hard. He prayed
none of the people he’d fought were her family. “’Tis a lot of land up there, highlands and lowlands. Where in Scotland did she hail from?”

  She settled back against him. “Pater never told me. He may not have known, although I get the feeling mother and he were friends.”

  “What is the story on Pater?” He wanted to keep her talking, keep her mind off what had happened, and keep her relaxed body melded next to his.

  Her body immediately stiffened and she pulled forward, sitting up straight.

  He sighed. That was the wrong question to ask.

  “There is nothing to tell.” Even her words were stiff.

  “I sense there is, my lady.”

  “I do not wish to talk on it.” She sat rigidly before him, resisting his gentle tug back to him.

  “My lady, Brithwin,” he whispered in her ear. “You must share this with me. I would never harm someone who is so precious to you.”

  “’Tis nothing you need to know, my lord.”

  “But I want to know. I have given my word no harm will come to him.”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “You promise me no harm will come to him?”

  “Unless he has done something to harm you or Hawkwood, he has my protection, and you have my word.” He tugged her to lean against his chest again.

  She relented and relaxed. “Pater suffered much at my father’s hand. More than I, truthfully.”

  “Why did your father dislike him? Did Pater betray him?” If the man betrayed her father for Brithwin’s safety, he could understand.

  “Nay.” She quickly peeked over her shoulder, and he got the feeling she was weighing what she would tell him. “Pater is a follower of John Wycliffe.”

  For some reason the announcement did not surprise him. “A Lollard.”

  She sucked in a breath.

  “Do not trouble yourself, my lady. I gave you my word. But I will have you know that I agree with their stand on indulgences. I do not believe any amount of money can buy you free of your sin.”

  “’Tis more than that.” Brithwin pushed the wisps of hair away from her face and tucked them behind her ears. “He wanted the bible to get to the common man because God’s word is the true authority where we find our salvation.”