by York, Ashley
"How so?" A sinking feeling made its way into his gut. Could the king have had something to do with the brutality Arthur inflicted?
"He swore his loyalty but fell short of his duty." The king's eyes pierced John's. "I would not like to say the same of you, my son."
"I have been right alongside you, fighting every battle as my own. How could you compare me with that man?"
"Have you been accepted by your wife's people?"
They are my people. John dare not voice the thought. "Yes."
The big man breathed a sigh of relief and slumped in his seat. "Good. I knew I could trust you. Your loyalty comes from good stock."
All sound ceased.
"I do not understand."
William's eyes rounded slightly, then he glanced away. "Oh just the ramblings of an old man."
John searched his face. Did this man know who his sire was? Who his mother was?
Sitting forward suddenly, William cleared his throat. "So John, I need you to stay ready in case the rumors are correct. If Leofrid is still alive, he needs to be killed. Do you understand?"
"You want me to kill my wife's cousin?"
The king seemed taken aback by the question. "Of course, John. They're only Saxons. Their family loyalty does not run as deep as yours and mine."
He inclined his head.
William stood and John followed him to the door.
"Fare thee well, John. Enjoy your little wife."
John stood outside the closed door, facing the still crowded Great Hall. The king had taken time away from his duty to question him and Rowena. He must know that Leofrid was indeed alive. It would kill Rowena to lose her cousin. John could not kill the man in cold blood. He headed back to Emma's chamber, going up the stairs two at a time.
"John." Rowena turned to him as he was bade entry. She came into his arms, her body shaking slightly.
"Are you not well? Were you hurt?" John's need to defend his lady cut to the core of his being.
"Oh, no, John. I am fine." She turned back toward Emma who stood beside the window seat she'd just vacated. "We have been discussing the king and perhaps why he wanted our attendance at this wedding."
"Please, John, do not feel you must stay." Emma stepped closer, her hand on his arm. "It has been a most trying time for the both of you. The king will not notice your absence. I assure you."
"Then we shall leave as soon as Rowena is ready."
"I am ready now." Rowena's enthusiasm for the long trip surprised John.
"Are you certain?"
"I wish to be home. All this pomp and circumstance makes me sad for old times. I do not wish to dwell on the past. I wish to start anew with you."
Emma beamed her agreement in the smile she bestowed. "Yes, John, take your lady wife home and care for her."
"Aye. We will leave anon."
§
The roads were dark when they came to the first inn along the road. Creatures of the night offered their greeting as John helped Rowena dismount.
"We will not be kept apart this night."
Rowena shivered at his whispered words.
There had been no time for them to be together in such a long time. She just wished to be held and cherished by this man she loved.
The only room available was gladly passed up by the rest of the group. They willingly chose other accommodations as if sensing the need for their lord and lady to have some time alone.
"John, did the king speak ill of me?"
The courage required to ask the question vanished as soon as the words were spoken. Why did she need to hear the answer? Better not to know for certain.
John took her in his arms, holding her head against his shoulder. "My love, any ill spoken of you would be answered at the end of my sword."
Rowena pulled back to look up at him. His eyes twinkled with the mischief of his words. "My lord, I prefer you alive. No words can touch me if you do not lose faith in me."
A dark cloud seemed to pass over his features and he released his hold. He stood by the small window overlooking the woods surrounding the small inn. He looked to have the weight of the world on his shoulders. Rowena suddenly feared what he might say.
"John, I—"
"No, Rowena, you must let me speak." John interrupted her, but did not turn toward her.
Her heart sank. After his words of love in the Hall, there had been no time for questions. She had been swept away for a private audience. Did he wish to take back his words?
"I have something I must tell you that may change your feelings toward me."
Nothing could stop her from loving this man. He was everything to her and with him by her side, she would be able to move forward in this land they now called England.
"I was at the battle where your uncle and father were killed."
John faced her. There was a darkness in his eyes she'd never seen before. As if he was revisiting the carnage again. She looked away. She did not want to relive that day. Her nightmares had been made up of those memories for so long. She just wanted happy memories now.
"Please, John—"
"I would not speak of it if it did not need to be said."
Rowena took a deep, fortifying breath. "As you wish."
"No, it is not my wish. It was never my wish. I had seen enough death in those days to haunt me for the rest of my life." He looked off into the distance.
A shiver of fear ran down Rowena's spine and she knew she did not want to hear his words.
"I had ordered my men to take as many of the Saxons alive as they could. I saw no reason to murder when they had clearly lost the day. Most of the soldiers continued to fight, pressing forward into crowds of my soldiers even though they knew they could not survive. They came willingly to die."
Tears filled Rowena's eyes at the picture his words created in her mind.
"Your father was just as proud."
Her breath caught. He had seen her father killed?
"I begged him to yield."
He had spoken to him before he died.
"I repeated myself." John's voice got louder. "I begged him to put down his sword, Rowena."
No, no, don't continue. She covered her ears and looked away.
John's hands were warm on her arms as he gently pulled her hands away from her head.
"My love, I wanted to give him leniency, have William work out...something so that the man could survive. He had fought so hard. He was an amazing soldier as was your entire family. I have never been up against anyone that I had feared as much as them. I wanted him to live."
The tears coursed down her cheeks, her face pinched with the pain of his memories.
"He refused to yield." His brown eyes were wide. "He advanced on me and tripped, and his body fell." A tear slipped down John's cheek. "My love, I couldn't move my sword in time. He died on my sword."
John gripped her arms, a look of imploring forgiveness on his face. She couldn't breathe. His pain was so acute that she felt it in her own heart. He had held this inside all this time, knowing that he had been the cause of her father's death—no, it was his unrelenting stubbornness that had caused his death.
Rowena looked down, closing her eyes. Would forgiving this man for his part in the loss of her people cause anyone else pain? Was there anyone that could profit from her withholding absolution when all she wanted to do was ease his guilt? Was she a terrible daughter to know that war kills people, makes them throw away all that they have, disregarding all that they value, just to win the battle?
Lifting her head, she wiped the tears from her face, and faced her husband. Slowly, she wiped the tear off his cheek and moved in to kiss him where it had been.
"My love, my father is dead. I have mourned that loss for too long. I wish only to move on with you. You are my life now. You are what I treasure more than anything. If it is forgiveness you seek, you have it. Let us never talk of this again."
John's arm tightened around her, near to crushing her with the intensity of his emotions. She rubbed her li
ps against his neck.
"My love, I have missed you immensely."
He moaned into her ear and lifted her into his arms. The small bed groaned under their weight as he put her down and covered her body with his own.
He caressed her cheek and neck, sending ripples of anticipation where he touched. "My love, you are more than I could ever desire as a wife."
His lips were warm against her, becoming more insistent, and she opened her mouth to him. His tongue dipped inside, teasing her. His warm hands slid down her side, stopping to cup her breast that ached for his mouth.
"Make love to me," she said.
In the close quarters there was no room for secrets. Each breath was shared, each touch uniting, in every way he made love to her with not just his body but with the way he worshipped her.
When he brought her to the pinnacle, he placed his hands on either side of her body. She opened her eyes.
"Let me see your pleasure."
She wet her lips, fighting to keep her eyes on him as he drove her further and harder than he had ever done before. Pleasure quivered through her in waves. With purpose he thrust into her, prolonging her ecstasy, his eyes still on her face.
"You are my life, Rowena. I will love you until there are no more days left for me on this earth."
Tears of happiness slipped down her cheeks at his words.
"I love you," Rowena whispered.
John dipped his head and she crested with him as he drove home, surely touching her womb. He shuddered and dropped beside her.
She settled against his chest and sighed.
"May a child be conceived this night."
A child for them to share. The loss of their daughter was still heavy but the hope for a new life gave her strength.
"Aye." She covered her abdomen with her hand. "It must be so."
He kissed the top of her head, caressing her back, and she snuggled into his chest.
Thoughts crowded in her mind, demanding her attention, and she tried to dismiss them to focus on the feel of his hand as he caressed her arms. It was all for naught.
"My love, let me ask you one thing."
"Only one?" Her voice was contented and sleepy. "Are your thoughts racing as well?"
"Well, I wondered what it was William actually talked to you about."
"He could only go on and on about what a great catch you are, and how lucky I am to be married to good Norman stock."
John paused mid-stroke but remained silent. So, she continued, "He spoke of the pride of the Normans and how you come from a long line of good fighters and fertile men." She sensed the tension in him but knew she had to ask. "Do you have other children?"
"No. Why would you ask that?"
"Abigail had said as much."
John sighed loudly with his frustration. "That woman knows naught but to serve her own purposes." He kissed Rowena’s forehead with great reverence. "I am sorry that she bothered you in my absence."
Rowena's relief was complete. "So you have no ties to her or great love for her?"
"No. I thought to never see her again when I left Normandy."
"Was she your mistress?"
"Not the word I would choose and not for lack of trying on her part, even sneaking into my bed to get what she wanted." He ducked his head. "I'm sorry to admit she was occasionally successful. No, I barely knew her but allowed her to stay at my home because I had pity for her. She had nowhere else to go."
"Then the king's comments perplex me. Does he not know your situation?"
"Aye, he knows it well enough."
"Do you think he knows more than he has said?"
"It would not be the first time."
"Oh." She tipped her head back to better see his face. "He asked me about Leofrid."
"He asked me about him as well."
"Forgive me, John, but I did not tell him what had transpired."
She nibbled on her lip when he didn't answer immediately. Would he be mad that she did not tell the king everything she knew?
"I am glad you did not tell him. I've come to a decision."
There was a sudden tightness in her gut. She loved her cousin but he could not be allowed to hurt John. Perhaps if she talked to Leofrid directly, he would see that. No. He was a Godwinson. There would be no talking to him.
"I've decided it would be best to ship Leofrid to Ireland."
She gasped, sitting up more, the bed creaking with her movement. "My thanks, John, for sparing his life."
"But he must agree to leave willingly, although under guard, and never to return. That is the price for his freedom. Oh, and he must take Abigail with him."
She narrowed her eyes. "You would saddle him with a woman like that?"
"I believe it is a just punishment. That way she can cause no further problems here."
Rowena frowned as if deep in thought, smiled down at him before kissing him, and said, "That is a sound decision. I will look to you to make these decisions...and then I will let you know what I think of them."
His eyebrows shot up, and she struggled not to laugh at the comical look of surprise. "Oh, is that the way of it then?"
"That is the way of it."
The end.
About the Author
Thank you for taking your valuable time to read my latest novel. Below, you will find links to my website as well as my email address. I look forward to hearing your thoughts on this and other novels. I love interacting with my readers!
I have wanted to be a writer since the sixth grade. My first story was a mystery and I discovered that my classmates loved it and kept them guessing. I was a voracious reader, even at a young age, and loved the history in the novels I picked up. I was so enthralled with that history that I decided to get my MA in History. The early medieval period is my favorite, as you can tell from the novels I write.
Although all my works are fiction, I often like to incorporate authentic places, events, and people to increase the reader’s enjoyment. One of the more valuable lessons I have learned as a writer is the importance of using real history with the flair of artistic license. You’ll discover a world of fiction wrapped around historical people and events! I hope you enjoy reading these stories as much as I delight in writing them.
I live in New England with my husband, two cats and a yellow Labrador named Caledonia.
You can connect with me online:
Website: www.ashleyyorkauthor.com
Email: [email protected].
Please enjoy these bonus chapters from The Bruised Thistle, the first in The Order of the Scottish Thistle Series.
Ashley
Chapter 1
Dalmally, Scotland 1149
“Where have you been?” Iseabail bristled with irritation at having waited nigh an hour for her brothers’ arrival. Trying to look busy alone in an open field was a challenge, especially with the cool autumn wind stinging her exposed skin.
“Getting supplies,” Iain answered readily enough, but he didn’t sound himself.
Their little brother Calum stood at his elbow, nodding his red head a touch too eagerly.
She glanced between them as her suspicions rose. They were hiding something. “What is wrong?” Iain usually took great care with his appearance, but today he was ill-kempt. His thick dark hair hung limp around his face, and his brown eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed. Her irritation shifted to concern. “Are you not well?”
“Well enough. See what we’ve brought?” Iain’s tone brooked no discussion.
Iseabail allowed him to distract her with the large basket Calum was carrying. He placed it on the ground and lifted the lid. All manner of cloths, containers, and herbing accoutrements greeted them. Iain pushed this aside to reach beneath and lift the false bottom, showing a good array of cheese, breads, and dried meat for their trip.
A shiver ran down her spine, but she smiled up at him. “Good. We are ready then.”
Ready to leave the only home they had ever known, the overwhelming sadness
caught her off-guard. She forced herself to remember the abuses they had suffered at the hands of their powerful uncle, the new laird of their lands. What he had subjected her to as a female was the most horrendous of all.
She clenched her jaw in determination. “Shall we go?”
“Iseabail.” Iain’s face was unreadable, but she sensed his hesitation. “I cannot go.”
His words knocked the wind out of her. The thought of having to return to the hell she had been enduring left her lightheaded.
She shook her head in denial. “No, Iain, I cannot…” She corrected herself, “we cannot go back.” Her brothers did not know about their uncle’s abuse. There were no visible signs. “We cannot. We must make our escape now, while he is away from the castle.”
Iain’s eyes rounded with sadness and fine lines creased his forehead.
Iseabail had a terrible sense of foreboding, and the whisper of hope she had been nurturing began to dissipate. The idea of escape had come up so suddenly, yet they had all agreed straight away. Their uncle’s plans to be gone for a few days gave them the perfect opportunity, and it was one they could not afford to waste. They needed help ousting Uncle Henry from their lands. Not only was he ignoring their father’s last will and testament, his brutal treatment of the local clansmen had weakened them until their fear would not allow them to stand against him. Assistance from those outside the powerful Englishman’s control was their only hope.
Iain firmed his shoulders, a determined set to his handsome face. “We will not return. You and Calum will travel on without me.”
Fear slammed into her chest, and it became hard to breathe. “What do you mean? We cannot go alone. It is not safe.”
Iain held her gaze and spoke clearly. “This may be our only chance to go for help. I will stay behind to see that no one follows, and then I will join you.”
The look that passed between Iain and Calum made her throat tighten. Something did not seem right. “When will you come?”
“When I know it is safe and you are not followed.” Iain’s answer came a bit too quickly.