by K. E. Saxon
*
Suddenly chilled, Jesslyn walked closer to the fire as she waited for Bao to retrieve the stool. She’d wondered at the message and the return of her gift earlier in the day, and though she’d been a bit hurt by Bao’s refusal of the larder, she’d supposed he’d thought she was repaying him for the coins he’d given Alleck and had not wanted to accept it on those grounds. And now, she supposed, he would warn her to be more circumspect in her gifts to him while he dwelled at the keep—of which she was in full agreement. ‘Twould never do for the others to learn of their lovers tryst—nor of her part in his remaining hidden so long.
He brought the stool over to the edge of the fire and motioned for her to sit before taking a seat himself on the one he’d abandoned a few moments past. Leaning forward, he placed his forearms on his thighs and let his hands drop between his knees. He stared at her a moment before saying, “I was a bit surprised by the rather rustic reward you sent me. For, ‘tis truth, I’m accustomed to procuring a higher payment for the services I rendered you this past morn.”
Jesslyn’s heart plummeted into her stomach. “Wh—What mean you, ‘services’?”
“‘Tis coin and jewels that are the usual reward I receive from the ladies of the court for such a performance, but I neither expected nor wanted any recompense from you. Believe me, the pleasure I received between your thighs was payment enough.”
A fleeting memory of her cries of ecstasy, her entreaty for him to take her flashed in her mind and Jesslyn choked back a gag. She leapt to her feet, unable for a moment to do more than stare at him in horror in the weighted silence that stretched and warped the distance between them. A buzzing began in her head and she swayed on her feet, then tumbled onto her stool. She saw him tense as if preparing to catch her, but she stopped him with a breathless query. “You think my gift of the berry tarts was repayment for your skills at fleshly love?” Her lip curled. “You disgust me.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and lifted a brow. A knowing smirk marred his lips as he said, “I think not. In fact, over the next days until I return to my life in Perth, I shall prove just the opposite—by having you often…and well.”
“Never!” He was vile! Vile! She stumbled to her feet and ran toward the glen, his taunting laughter like a thousand trumps blasting in her ears.
*
Bao’s mouth drooped and he leaned back against the outer wall of the cave, allowing her to leave. She would hate him now, would not even allow a friendship with her son any longer, and he could not blame her for her concern. Aye, he must stay only long enough to see his sister settled and then he must depart. But he would make certain before he left that Jesslyn believed in Branwenn’s virtue and understood that his sister had no idea of the more dissolute of his two occupations.
A brief image of the domestic bliss Daniel and Maryn shared flickered in Bao’s mind, followed by a sharp stab of envy, which he quickly squelched. He would not allow himself to pine for something that was impossible for him to attain—‘twas a waste of his time.
Oh, when he was a wee lad, before his life in Perth, he’d had dreams of one day wedding, having a family and a profession of which he could be proud. And, even tho’ it had been his mother’s dying wish for him to fulfill that dream as well—she’d made him vow as she neared the end that he would find a way to free himself from his slavery and make a home, with a wife and bairns—he’d long come to terms with the fact that that vow would not be fully realized. For it had become impossible for him to attain after his induction into the venereal trade.
Bao leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and dropped his head, staring, unseeing, at the ground beneath his feet. But he had fulfilled part of his promise to his mother, at least. He’d freed himself from his slavery when he’d thrust the killing blow through his father’s heart. And he’d made sure that neither himself, nor his sister, would ever know that life again.
Bending down, he picked up a dead twig and blindly tossed it into the darkness—toward God knew where. Aye, he’d learned early on that wealth was the key to freedom and he’d set out with a single-minded purpose to attain as much of it as he could. He had more coin from his years of mercenary soldiering and selling his carnal favors to the bored ladies of King William’s court than he would use in his lifetime. But he knew no other life and so would return to it when this duty was concluded. For no woman of high character would have him once they knew of his fleshly trade—and, ‘twas his bane, his chafing truth, that he would only have such a woman as wife. ‘Twas a dilemma that had no solution, a fact for which he was thoroughly resigned. But his sister would know that life, for he was determined to see it so. And tho’ she fought him now, he knew that she would one day thank him for his insistence that she remain here without him.
The sound of footsteps shuffling through the leaves jolted Bao from his dark musings. He bolted upright and leapt to his feet with his dirk at the ready in his hand. “Who goes there?”
*
Jesslyn moved into the light of the fire.
Clearly shocked by her return, Bao replaced the dirk in its sheath. “What imprudent wind would blow you back to me? For your initial instincts were the true ones.” He thrust his arm in the direction Jesslyn had just come from and angrily pointed. “Leave!”
She leaned forward, placing her hands on her hips. “Nay!” she replied just as forcefully. “Not before you answer my questions.” She straightened and crossed her arms over her chest. “I was halfway across the glen before I realized that I deserved a bit more information about your tainted past. I’ve heard that disease runs rampant at court, especially amongst the…the”—she waived her hand in front of her—“people who do the thing you described. Have you diseased me?” Her breath caught in her lungs and she held it.
“Christ’s Bones! Nay, I have not! Whatever you may think me, at least know you this: I would never bed someone knowing I would be passing on a sickness in the process.” Bao stepped toward her, but she stood her ground. “Tho’ there are a few members of the court—and, certainly, many less carefully particular whores,” he used the word she’d been loath to say, “who have the disease—I am healthy. The sickness is common in the stews, the area of the city where the procurers do their business, but ‘twill not reach my circle—the ladies are quite selective, as am I.”
Jesslyn closed her eyes and took a deep breath, feeling her taut muscles relax as she released it on a slow stream. Dropping her hands to her sides, she walked past Bao and sat down on the stool she’d recently vacated and then stared into the blaze a moment, her thoughts a jumble. “And this is the life you desire? A soldier by day, a—by night?”
His face was somber and his eyes never wavered from hers when he said, “Aye. I like variety.”
She swallowed a snort. I’m sure you do. A pang of regret for what might have been gripped her heart. Well, that’s that, then. She pressed her lips together and sighed. “All right.” Another disturbing thought struck and her stomach twisted in a knot. “Has Branwenn been living such a life as well?” she asked.
Sighing, he settled on his stool once more before responding. “Nay. In truth, she knows naught of that part of my life—I made sure of it—and I want it to remain that way.” His dark eyes pierced her with a steady gaze until she nodded her head in agreement. “My sister is both virtuous and comely; my brother should have no trouble finding good prospects for her to choose from for husband. And I have set aside a sizeable dowry for her, which I told Daniel of this afternoon.”
“You made that much from your…um…service to the ladies at court?”
He smiled and a devilish light lit his eyes, but he shook his head. “Nay, not all of it came from my ‘service to the ladies’; some of it came from my soldiering for King William.”
How much? Jesslyn wished she had the courage to ask him, but decided she’d probed into his privacy far enough for her own peace of mind. Besides, the less she knew, the less guilty she would feel for keeping i
t concealed from his sister.
She rose from her stool. “I shall leave you now. My thanks for your honesty—you were right to believe ‘twas the best way to end things between us. Tho’, in truth, you did not need to state things quite so crudely.” Turning, she walked off into the darkness, out of the firelight’s glow, and out of his life for evermore.
*
Daniel met Bao in the lower bailey the next morn after breaking their fast, ready to pit his strength against Bao’s. “How long has it been since you’ve trained?” he asked as he turned to walk side by side with Bao toward the furthest end of the training field.
“At least since Hogmanay past. I’m looking forward to working out some of my vexation at you by defeating you soundly for stealing my sister’s affection so completely.”
“You can try, of course.” Daniel grinned.
A barely audible growl came from low in Bao’s throat, but he refrained from saying more, deciding he’d rather prove his assertion with action. Branwenn had barely said two words to him that morn, choosing instead to give her attention to Daniel. She’d made it quite evident that she thought Daniel was wonderful, brilliant even, if her ready agreement to every opinion he had was any true testament. If Daniel said the bread was stale, then, of course, the bread was stale; tho’ it had tasted fine to Bao. If Daniel said ‘twas sure to rain today, then, aye, Branwenn thought so as well. Bao looked up at the cloudless sky and snorted as he shook his head. It had actually been a bit disgusting to watch. His heart constricted at the memory, but he refused to acknowledge its cause, instead preferring to stew on his aggravation.
Daniel shook his head. ‘Twas very apparent that Bao was having difficulty releasing his dearly beloved sister into another’s care, but he would not admit it; not to himself, nor, Daniel was sure, to anyone else.
*
“What on earth are Daniel and Bao doing out on the training field?” Maryn motioned to Lady Maclean and Branwenn to come over to the solar’s window. “Daniel told me they were going to have another meeting this morn. He said naught about a contest of strength being involved. Are they trying to kill one another, do you suppose, and after only one day?” Maryn watched the two warriors circle each other in the lower bailey. They’d evidently been at this game for quite some time, because there was a crowd of soldiers gathered around the two.
Lady Maclean rested her hand on Maryn’s upper arm. “Be easy, dear, ‘tis certain they do no permanent damage to one another. This is how men deal with their emotions. They are more at ease expressing their feelings physically than they are speaking of them.”
“Aye,” Maryn said, nodding. She’d certainly found that to be true between Daniel and herself. He had no problem expressing his feelings for her physically. Tho’, now that she thought on it, he was quite good with his love words as well. But it’d taken him a good while to open up to her about the reasons for his fears. Mayhap men just had a harder time talking of emotions they perceived to be signs of weakness.
As she watched, Daniel locked his hands behind Bao’s waist and pressed his head into the center of Bao’s chest, Bao bent backwards and fell, taking Daniel with him. Bao spun sideways and threw his legs across Daniel’s torso, grabbing Daniel’s left wrist with both hands and squeezing it between his own thighs, pressing it palm-side up against his chest. Daniel escaped the hold by getting a grip on Boa’s right hand and twisting his wrist to the right, locking Bao’s elbow and shoulder out. Daniel pushed up diagonally to the right with his right hand and Bao went flying. The match continued for several more minutes, each opponent equally matched in skill and strength as the soldiers’ enthusiastically egged on the two men.
“This is beyond belief,” Maryn said. Laird Donald had crossed the courtyard and entered the crowd of men a moment before. “My own father has begun to take wagers on the outcome.”
“Bao will win,” Branwenn said matter-of-factly as she stood on tiptoe behind Maryn and Lady Maclean, craning her neck to see over their shoulders.
Maryn turned her head and looked at her sister-in-law. “I do not think so, lassie. Daniel’s the best warrior in the Highlands.”
“By whose account? Bao’s a warrior knight who’s fought many battles for the High King of Scots. None other amongst the king’s men has bested him in a tournament; tho’ many have tried.”
Maryn was getting a bit chafed with Branwenn’s confidence that Daniel would lose the match. “By the account of all who have tried to win against him. Ready yourself to see Bao’s first loss.”
“Wanna lay a wager on it?”
Giving Branwenn a speculative look, Maryn replied, “What have you in mind?”
“Oh, naught too dear. I did like the look of your mare when you showed her to me this day past. I’d enjoy taking her out for a ride.”
“My mare allows no one to ride her but me. Think of something else.”
“Then simply promise me that I may attempt a ride on your mare. I promise, I’m a good rider,” Branwenn replied.
Maryn shrugged and nodded. “All right. Now, what to request when I win?” Tapping her forefinger against her chin, Maryn thought a moment. She snapped her fingers. “You’ll allow Jesslyn to trim that hair of yours and you’ll not complain when we begin your sewing lessons.”
“For that, I want at least three rides on your mare.”
“‘Tis a wager,” Maryn said, grinning.
“Oh, Lord. I hope the two of you do not regret your rash promises,” Lady Maclean said, though she was smiling as she said it and there was a definite twinkle in her eyes.
Turning their sights back to the match, the three stood at the window for the next half hour watching the two warriors endeavoring to overset the other; Maryn encouraging her husband and clapping when he gained the upper hand, while Branwenn did the same for Bao. Lady Maclean, of course, cheered for both her grandsons equally.
*
An hour later, both warriors walked across the courtyard with a stiff gate as they came from the bathhouse at the soldier’s quarters. Each had an arm over the other’s shoulders and their hair was still damp from its recent dousing. They were blatantly pleased with themselves.
“You almost got me early on with that tricky move with my arm,” Daniel said.
Bao looked at Daniel questioningly, “Aye? You got out of it easily enough.”
Daniel grinned. “Not so easily. Desperation inspires me.”
Bao grinned even broader. “I trow I would have won that match in mere moments had I been in better shape.”
“Ha! Think what you must to soothe your sore pride, my brother.”
Bao rubbed his bruised ribs with his free hand. “‘Twas not I who ended the match—‘twas you who did the deed.”
Daniel sobered. “Aye. I must ask the steward to see that a special meal is prepared for my soldiers this eve. They were very disappointed that their wagers were voided by the sudden halt I called to the match.” Daniel stopped and faced Bao. “I must speak to you in privy about that scar you bear on your chest. You’ve no doubt already suspected that it matches the one my father carved into my mother and grandfather—and I’ve delayed discussing it with you long enough.”
“Aye,” Bao agreed and turned to walk with Daniel back to the keep. He had not meant to allow his brother to see the scar, but it had become such an intrinsic part of his body that he had forgotten its existence in the excitement of the moment and, needing more flexibility of motion, had pulled off his shirt. He’d thought to have Daniel draw the symbol and, if it matched the one he was marked with, then he would give Daniel as much information about it as he knew. Now his disgrace would be known by all those that mattered to him.
*
The ladies were waiting in the great hall for the two men’s return. “Will you still allow me to ride Fia if Jesslyn trims my hair and I submit to sewing lessons?” Branwenn asked Maryn.
Looking over at Branwenn and examining the lass’s ruined locks, Maryn knew Branwenn surely desired the trim despera
tely, but was too proud to admit it. “Aye. But you may only attempt to ride Fia; you may not force her. If she gives you trouble, you are to back away.”
Daniel and Bao entered the great hall at that moment. Maryn rose from her stool and hurried forward, grasping her husband’s hands in her own. “We were watching the match from the solar—why did you stop the game so suddenly? Scanning her eyes first over her husband’s frame and then over her brother-in-law’s, she asked, “Were one of you hurt?”
Daniel leaned down and brushed a kiss across her cheek. “Nay, love. We’re both fit, fear not.” Glancing at Bao, he waited for his brother’s quick nod before continuing, “It seems Bao bears the same marking on his frame that was engraved on my mother and grandfather. The shock of seeing it forced me to cut short the match.”
“You got that scar from our—pardon—your father, Bao? You told me ‘twas a scar you got in battle,” Branwenn said.
“‘Twas no lie I told you. I received it in a battle between my father and myself when I was but seven summers. He battled to carve it into me, and I battled to keep him from doing so.”
“Oh, my dear lad!” Lady Maclean exclaimed.
Bao’s fists clenched at his sides. “He won. That time.”
*
Unable to bear the looks of horror and pity on the others’ faces, Bao whirled around and strode from the hall. Leaning against the wall next to the doorway, he took several deep breaths in an attempt to regain his composure. He looked up when he heard his grandmother leading Maryn and his sister out of the chamber. They said naught, just nodded as they passed, and Bao watched as they quietly made their way up the stairs. He relaxed his shoulders and righted himself, relieved that the ladies would have no part in the coming discussion. With leaden feet, he strolled back into the hall and sat across from Daniel at the high table.