Dragon's Dower

by Catherine Archer

  “The Dragon.”

  The words should have shocked her. Yet somehow they did not. Perhaps in some place inside her, in the deepest recesses of her heart she had always known without knowing. Had she not loved him so well and unfailingly in all these years? She had set him above all other men until Simon had come to win her lonely heart. “The Dragon was my father!”

  He continued to look on her with disdain. “Aye. My own half brother was your father.”

  “My mother must have been in love with him.”

  His voice was brittle. “In love with him. Lust more like, as all the other women who scampered after him.”

  She did not care to hear the desperation in her own tone as she strove to believe that she had not been born from some shameful act. “But he did not misuse her. I am sure of it.”

  He shrugged, his tone scathing. “Are you asking me if he loved her? Wallace did not return from war until after you were born and Therese was heavy with our own child. She said as she was dying, and I believed her, that they were never again alone together. I never saw either of them so much as look…That was part of the reason it came as such a shock to me to learn the truth. But afterward when I thought on it, I realized he had loved her all along.” His cold gaze moved over her. “He spent that love on you, doted and cuddled and fussed over you as he did Rosalind. And it sickened me.”

  “But he meant no betrayal to you in that. He did not know I was his daughter. He was simply being kind. He was a loving man to all he cared for.”

  Her father drew himself up. “Yet that really did not matter. The damage had been done in his loving her—putting his hands upon her. She was used by him, and thus not really and truly mine. All my life I had fallen second to him and must even in the bed of my own wife. My brother married, had a child of his wife that was his alone. I had you, who were his as well.”

  Isabelle’s eyes suddenly widened in pain and regret. “Rosalind, the little girl who died the day you took Dragonwick, was my own sister.”

  He shrugged again. “’Twas unavoidable.”

  She shook her head. “I pity you, Father.”

  He smiled coldly, and she suddenly knew that cold smile covered his feelings, his fear of loving, of being hurt, even as he said, “Save your pity for one who might need it.”

  A sense of freedom surged through her as she held her head high. No longer would she follow his paltry example. No more would she deny her feelings. She had admitted her love for Simon out of desperation only hours ago. Now she wished that it was to do over again, so she might say the words with all the joy that rose up inside her. There was no shame in admitting the truth of her own feelings to him or anyone else, for loving was not weakness but strength.

  She looked at her father with new eyes. “I have hated you for your cruelty and coldness while at the same time hoping with all my heart for just one small act of kindness, one gentle word. Though they never came, I never stopped wishing.” She put her hand over her heart. “You say that your brother took all from you. He did not, for I was willing to love you. You and you alone have thrown away or destroyed all that mattered in your life.”

  For a moment there was once again a hint of deep pain in his gaze before he said, “I do not need your love.”

  “Then all the more reason to pity you.” She turned and moved toward the door.

  His voice was hard with command. “Where do you think you are going?”

  She did not look around. “To my husband. To see if there is aught that can be done to save him.”

  “Do not be a fool. Warleigh is as good as dead. You are and will continue to remain under my control.”

  “Do as you will. No more will I obey out of fear, for the damage to my soul is as much a punishment as any physical one you might devise.”

  As she opened the door and stepped through it she heard him say, “Go, then. See what welcome you get from Warleigh. He never wanted you.”

  Isabelle knew this was true and though it hurt, she was not willing to let that stop her from doing what she must. It was the giving of her own love that mattered most even if he did not accept it.

  Simon looked up at a scraping sound at the door of his cell. Slowly he stood as the door swung open, his head held high.

  The resolve he felt changed to shock mixed with confusion and yes, joy, when he saw Isabelle standing in the narrow opening. He moved toward her. “How did you…?”

  She glanced behind her and he noted the presence of his jailer who stood admiring the large stone of the ring he held between his thick fingers.

  He shook his head. “You should not have come here. Your father—”

  She put her fingers to his mouth to prevent him from going on. “He is not my father.”

  Simon looked down at her in confusion and she said, “I would not go into detail now but I will tell you this, he has said The Dragon was my true father and I believe him.”

  “But how?”

  She shook her own head. “Not now, Simon, just know that learning the truth has freed me from his domination. No matter what he might do to me in the future I will never again fall victim to his emotional control.”

  He put his arms about her, loving the feel of her against him even as he felt the rage rise up at knowing he was powerless to protect her.

  She pushed back away from him and he saw that her beautiful eyes were troubled. “Simon, there is something I have to confess.”

  Simon did not care what she had to say. All he could think about was the fact that she had said she loved him. He opened his mouth to tell her so, when raised voices sounded from outside the cell.

  Isabelle’s terrified gaze met his. “They can not have come to take you….”

  Before he could reply the cell door swung open with a loud bang. In the opening stood two of the king’s guards.

  Isabelle cried out, “No, you can not mean to—”

  One of the men spoke without inflection while the other simply looked on, his face set in an expressionless mask. “Come.”

  Isabelle ran to stand before them and his belly tightened with pain and regret as she cried, “For the love of God, do not do this.”

  Neither replied. Simon took a deep breath. He had not expected the king to move so quickly. He had hoped for some reprieve. When a sob escaped Isabelle he moved to take her in his arms, holding her tightly for a moment before setting her away. “You can do nothing, Isabelle. Do not risk yourself for naught.”

  He stepped forward and the men flanked him as they had when they led him here. Isabelle started after them and he turned to look at her over his shoulder saying, “Do not follow.”

  But she paid him no heed, her lips setting in a stubborn line as tears slipped down her porcelain cheeks. He felt his own heart ache for her sorrow, but could do nothing to ease it.

  Simon felt many eyes follow him as he passed into and through the more occupied sections of the castle. He looked neither right nor left, caring only for the quiet sobbing of the woman he loved.

  Had he truly longed for the day when she would be willing to share her emotion? Her pain now nearly drove him to his knees.

  To his surprise they led him not to the courtyard where he expected whatever sentence the king had decreed to be carried out. They took him back to the very chamber in which he had again faced Kelsey. The chamber where Isabelle had told him she loved him.

  The taller of the two guards moved forward and opened the door. Simon stepped inside. As he did so he stopped dead for it was a long moment before he realized what he was seeing.

  On one side of the dais at the far end of the chamber stood the Earl of Kelsey. He looked on with an expression that was fixed as stone, giving nothing away.

  Both Jarrod and Christian stood to the other side. Next to them were two older men, both of whom wore their noble bearing with confidence. Though Simon had never known these two men well he did have a recollection of having seen them before and his heart thumped with hope as he realized just who they wer
e.

  His gaze went to the king and found that narrow visage looking far from pleased. John motioned him forward with an impatient hand. “Come forward, Warleigh.”

  King John gestured to the four men. “I believe you must know Greatham, Maxwell, Dempsey and Fillmore.”

  Simon did indeed know Greatham and Maxwell and the other two men. The older men were indeed two of the most powerful noblemen in all of England and longtime intimates of his father.

  Simon looked to his friends as he moved to stand with them. “Why did they not come before? And how did you know to bring them now when the hour was so dire?”

  Christian shrugged looking to Jarrod who answered, “Your wife.”

  Simon had not forgotten Isabelle.

  He swung around to find her standing close behind him, her hands folded before her in a manner of contrition. Isabelle looked up at him, her lavender eyes filled with anxiety. “That is what I was going to tell you. I know you did not wish for your friends to be involved in this, but I could not see you…”

  He wanted to hug her and throttle her at the same time but he wanted even more to see what was going on. He took her hand. “We will discuss this later.” He turned to the king. “Am I to take it that you are willing to hear my case at last?”

  The king frowned. “Your case has been made.” His wary glaze slid over Lord Dempsey, then Lord Fillmore. “These two men, two of my most loyal and powerful nobles have spoken on your behalf.” There was no mistaking the irony in his tone, yet clearly the king was moved by the power that the two held.

  Christian leaned close and whispered, “My father was ill and could not write the letters, but when Jarrod came with the letter and the dragon brooch we knew there was no more time. He and I rode directly to Fillmore and Dempsey to plead your case. They were happy to come, naming your father as friend.”

  Lord Dempsey interjected, “I also have some knowledge of your character through my son, Warleigh. He spent some time with you and your friends in the Holy Land some years ago and speaks highly of you still.”

  Simon did remember the quiet young knight and was grateful for his favorable assessment. He bowed to Lord Dempsey, who nodded in return.

  Jarrod whispered so only he and Christian could hear, “Methinks they also feel a desire to keep Kelsey from attaining more power than he has already acquired.”

  Simon was certain this was indeed a factor in their desire to aid him. Yet he cared not why they had done so, only that they had.

  King John cast Simon an angry glare. “Leave me and my court without delay. My time is far too precious to waste more of it upon you, Warleigh.”

  Simon bowed. He would not be sorry to take himself from Windsor and never again return.

  Kelsey’s voice made him look up and he could see the anger his father-by-marriage was attempting to hide as he said, “You mean to let him go on the word of these two when I have given my own word on the matter.”

  King John turned to him. “You honor is not in question, my lord Kelsey. I believe you quite genuine in your belief that this man was plotting against the crown and I commend you for your loyalty to me. I simply find that you were mistaken.”

  “But…”

  “Have no concern in this matter, my lord,” the king proclaimed. “You have lost no value in my eyes and will continue in your position of favor in this court.” Though John’s words were gracious enough there was a hint of warning in his eyes that could not be ignored.

  Simon saw that Kelsey was not happy with this. Yet what could he do? Holding his head high, the earl turned and stalked from the chamber.

  Simon watched as Lord Dempsey held up a hand. “I am sorry to delay you, my liege, but Fillmore and I would be grateful for just a bit more of your time. Precious as it is, we have come some distance and there are several other small matters you might aid us with.”

  The king nodded, though his expression was not pleased as he waved a hand. “The rest of you will go now.”

  Simon felt only relief as he took Isabelle’s icy hand and led her from the chamber, aware of the fact that his two friends followed him. Once out in the hall, he looked into his wife’s eyes. Free, dear God, free to take Isabelle home with him, to start a life with her, knowing that she loved him. “Isabelle, I…”

  Kelsey’s voice interrupted. “Isabelle, you will attend me immediately.”

  Simon moved to stand between them. “Isabelle will be coming with me.”

  He heard her murmur a surprised, “But Simon, you need not—”

  He stopped her with a look. “You are my wife. Your place is with me.” She had said that she loved him but obviously the long years of obeying her father’s every command were not easy to break. He pushed aside his regret, telling himself that he must only give her time.

  Isabelle said no more but her eyes continued to be troubled.

  Kelsey’s tone was hard with command. “Isabelle.”

  She kept her gaze on Simon’s, “I go with my husband.”

  Simon saw that Kelsey’s face seemed to crumple with what he would have recognized as pain on any other man. Yet Simon, knowing the earl incapable of such emotion, watched as he spun away.

  Simon turned to the others. “Let us away immediately.”

  Isabelle spoke softly as her strangely watchful gaze met Simon’s, “I must get Helwys and some of my things for the journey.”

  Simon’s relief that she did not seem to be swaying in her decision to accompany him was great. He was near giddy with relief as he addressed Jarrod, “We will meet you in the courtyard.”

  Jarrod nodded, his black eyes triumphant as he stared after the earl’s retreating back. “I will get the horses.”

  Christian smiled tightly. “I will go with Simon and Isabelle in case Kelsey has some surprise in mind to keep Isabelle from leaving with us.”

  Simon was not afraid of Kelsey or anything he might attempt now, but he did not pause to discuss this point. He could not wait to get on the road to Avington; only then would he feel he had Isabelle out of her father’s reach.

  He did not release her hand as she led them to her assigned chamber. Simon paused in the open doorway, the unexpected tableau before him holding him immobile. Isabelle and Christian seemed to have been affected in the same way for they too halted in the doorway.

  Inside was Helwys as they had expected but Kelsey’s man Sir Fredrick and Jack, who had proved himself a true friend to Simon in all of this, were there as well. The two men had obviously been engaged in a heated exchange, which continued as neither seemed aware of the new arrivals.

  The knight growled, “You betrayed my lord Kelsey.”

  Jack stepped back against the wall. Though his gaze did not waver it was clear that this was only bravado as he was armed with nothing but the knife in his belt. “There has been no betrayal in my mind for I have never served your master. I have always served The Dragon.”

  Simon was released from his frozen state, starting forward as Fredrick cried out, “Knave.” At the same time he pulled out his blade without warning, running Jack through.

  Simon called out, “Nay,” as Jack crumpled to the floor. Sir Fredrick turned to face him even as Simon drew his own sword.

  Simon charged Sir Fredrick, who barely had time to bring up his own weapon, when he cried out, “Christian, see what can be done for Jack.”

  Then there was no more time for words as it took all his concentration to answer Sir Fredrick’s furious counterattack. All the rage and resentment that had been building in Kelsey’s knight since the beginning was apparent in every thrust.

  Simon fought on, trying to keep his own hatred under control for he knew it could rise up and overcome him, make him incautious in the face of the other’s desire to see him dead. Loyalty, mad as his loyalty might be, was what drove the knight, making him a fiercesome opponent. Simon met each clash of metal against metal with diligence, knowing that one false move could bring his end.

  Finally came the telling moment wh
en Simon thrust upward in a desperate move to keep the blow that was aimed at his heart from connecting, and met flesh. Sir Fredrick’s sword clattered on the stone floor as he reached with the other hand to clutch at the gaping wound in his shoulder. Looking at Simon with shock he fell to the floor.

  A horrified gasp sounded and Simon looked over to see Kelsey standing in the doorway. He ran to his man’s side.

  Simon had his own wounded to concern himself with. He hurried to Christian, Isabelle and Helwys, where they knelt beside the fallen Jack. It was Christian who said, “We have bandaged the wound.”

  “How bad is it?” They moved back to let Simon get closer. Jack’s face was lined with pain but he tried to smile. “Have no concern for me, my lord. I will be fine.”

  Simon clasped a hand over his cold one. “Aye, you shall. If you can travel I will take you to Avington.”

  A shadow passed over the man’s face but he nodded as he said, “I thought never to leave Dragonwick. I…” He sighed. “I will go with you now.”

  Simon turned to Isabelle and Helwys as he stood. “We go to Avington.”

  Helwys smiled, looking to her mistress. “At last.”

  Isabelle heard her maid’s words but could summon no answering relief. She was reeling from the events of the past hour. The only emotion she could really fix on was her relief that Simon, and Jack, were alive. She moved to stand beside her husband, feeling his strength surround her like a warm cloak.

  Helwys took her other side.

  The man she’d always thought of as her father glared up at her as he tore the bottom from Sir Fredrick’s tunic and placed it over the knight’s wound. “Look what you have done by your deceit and betrayal.”

  Isabelle felt pain lace through her even though she knew that this was not her doing. She felt her shoulders taken in a gentle but insistent grip. “We must go, Isabelle. Jarrod is waiting.”

  The earl spoke harshly, his eyes holding a wildness such as she had never seen before. “You take nothing of Dragonwick with you. I will see that not even your dower lands go to you.”

  Though she had known she was making this choice the words hurt. Distantly she watched as Simon and Christian took Jack up between them and moved toward the door. Blindly she took Helwys’s hand, stumbling after them. She kept pace easily for it was slow going as the two men supported most of Jack’s weight.