Medieval Romantic Legends

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Summer shook her head, the light of uncertainty still in her eyes. “N-Nay. But I-I know….”

  He sat up swiftly, kissing her firmly on the lips. “You must trust that I, for now, know more than you do where it pertains to sexual relations. Trust that there is more to this world than what Genisa has told you.”

  A nicely skirted answer to the subject, he congratulated himself as Summer deliberated his words. A few twisted words, a measure of confusion, and his wife was easily distracted. Eager to be clear of the subject, he wrapped his arms about her slender torso and drew her down on the bed beside him.

  “Now,” he said firmly. “I want you to sleep. We must leave before sunrise and I would have you rested.”

  Still pondering his mysterious, somewhat baffling words, Summer yawned and sneezed in succession. “A-Aren’t we going to make love again?”

  His eyebrows rose and he fought off a smile. “I could make love to you all night, but I doubt you would derive as much pleasure as I.”

  “G-Genisa and Stephan make love three and four times a night.”

  “And how would you know this? Wait – do not tell me; Genisa is quite free with tales of her personal habits, I would guess.”

  Summer pursed her lips wryly. “N-Not at all. Their bedchamber is next to mine and I can hear them.”

  Bose laughed softly, turning in the small bed and catching her against his naked chest comfortably. “Not to worry, love. When you and I are settled at Ravendark, we shall put Genisa and Stephan to shame with our continuous lovemaking.”

  Summer sighed, snuggled against her husband and feeling exceedingly weary. “I t-thought you said I would not enjoy making love more than once a night.”

  “I did not say that. I merely said that tonight might be an inappropriate night for such an event due to two very good reasons.”

  “A-And they are?”

  “The fact that you are likely to be sore so soon after your fresh experience. And also because if your cries of passion grow any louder, I expect the priests listening at the door will be forced into an uncomfortable, if not embarrassing, physical situation.”

  Summer’s head came up again. “They are listening to us?”

  Bose pushed her head down. “Every word,” he kissed her tenderly. “Go to sleep now, love. I’ll wake you in the morn.”

  If Bose wasn’t bothered by the eavesdropping of curious priests, then Summer supposed her outrage would be misplaced. After all, they were a newlywed couple and the men of God’s Holy Order could hardly expect them to refrain from experiencing the intimacy of their union. With a heavy sigh, she burrowed deep against him.

  “G-Good sleep, my darling.”

  “Good sleep, love.”

  Summer turned her head slightly, facing toward the bolted chamber door. “Good sleep, priests!” she called softly.

  After a moment, footsteps that were making an obvious attempt at silence faded in both directions of the hall. Bose and Summer giggled until they could hardly stand the pain.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The morning had dawned gray and misty, a perpetual coating of moisture gracing the landscape of Chaldon and her surrounding province. Within the castle herself, the last of the great houses were preparing to depart. In spite of the mysterious absence of the du Bonne brother and Bose de Moray for the final round of jousting, a young and virtually unknown knight had emerged victorious in the joust, endearing himself to the crowd with his gracious manners as he accepted his ransom.

  Ransom taken from none other than Duncan Kerry. Even now, Duncan lingered in the misty shadows of the keep, watching the activity amidst the wet splattering that continued to fall. His usually lively face was grim, his skin pale and cold. Aye, his mood was as gray as the landscape and sky.

  Just before sunrise, Stephan and Ian appeared, speaking to a small collection of men-at-arms. Duncan watched closely, the cold mist bathing his face, as the soldiers listened carefully to the two knights and then quickly disbanded. As Stephan and his brother split in opposite directions, Duncan made way to the oldest sibling.

  “Stephan,” he hissed, keeping close to the outer wall. “Stephan!”

  Stephan, clad in durable battle armor and a heavy cloak, paused at the sound of his whispered name. Turning, his bright green eyes focused on the source and for a brief moment, his anger surged. But he banked, a control he had been forced to employ for the better part of the night. Even as Duncan approached, he found himself fighting the urge to wrap his hands around the young knight’s neck; any Kerry neck.

  “Stephan,” Duncan was upon him, his handsome face anxious. “What in the hell is going on? My brother left this morn and would not tell me anything. What’s happened to Sir Bose and your sister?”

  Stephan’s gaze was hard as he stared at the knight, his jaw ticking faintly. “I should be asking you that question. Undoubtedly your brother told you of his plans to steal my sister from her betrothed. And when Bose fled Chaldon with his ladylove in tow, mayhap your brother alluded to his intentions to beat the truth of Bose’s destination from Sir Morgan,” he braced his powerful fists against his hips. “Or better still, mayhap he explained to you the fact that somehow, Bose’s mother-in-law is involved in his corrupt plans. What, in fact, can you tell me, Duncan Kerry?”

  Duncan’s expression faltered and he lowered his gaze, emitting a heavy sigh. “He… he’s been speaking crazy ideas for the past three days. I truly had no idea he planned to follow through.”

  Stephan’s jaw stopped ticking. “Follow through with what?”

  Duncan closed his eyes briefly, a painful expression. “God’s Blood, Stephan, I know I should have come to you sooner… but, truthfully, I never believed Breck capable of carrying out his threats. He oft says things he doesn’t mean, insane thoughts that just as quickly pass. I never thought….”

  “Damnation, Duncan, what threat?”

  Reluctantly, Duncan met Stephan’s blazing green orbs. “The threat to destroy de Moray by using your sister against him.”

  Stephan could only stare at the man. “Why would he seek to destroy Bose? And, more importantly, how does he plan to utilize my sister against him?”

  Duncan took a deep breath, praying that the man would not find reason to run him through once he had finished his explanation. “Ever since Bose joined the tournament circuit, my brother has taken every loss and every defeat against the man as a personal attack. He hates Bose for his talent, his strength, and has oft plotted to somehow eliminate him.”

  “Kill him?”

  “Nay,” Duncan shook his head. “Merely remove him from the circuit. When he discovered Sir Bose’s interest in your sister, he believed he’d found his opportunity. Since he has been unable to physically ruin de Moray, he sought to ruin him through the lady.”

  The fog of confusion and fury that had plagued Stephan’s mind since the previous eve began to dissipate. Of course, Breck had been unable to defeat Bose by the usual means, strength against strength, talent against talent; Bose was far too powerful in both arenas. Therefore, Breck had sought to weaken him on a far more serious level by using his emotions against him.

  “So he petitioned for her hand, stealing her away from Bose by using the long-standing rumors against the man’s reputation,” Stephan’s voice was remarkable controlled. “And the Lady Margot, being the source of the vicious rumors, is supporting his quest.”

  Duncan nodded faintly. “He told me she had offered to help him destroy Sir Bose.”

  After a moment, Stephan shook his head with disbelief; he wasn’t sure if he should be furious or laugh at the foolishness of it.

  “An embittered old woman and a sinister young knight join forces, convince my father that Bose is a murderer and should not be allowed to marry my sister, and my father agrees.” He snorted ironically. “God’s Blood, I can hardly believe what has happened. When I saw the old woman in my father’s solar last eve siding with your brother, I could hardly believe her identity. As your brother saw
support for his cause in her knowledge of Bose’s past, the old bitch apparently also saw the weapon she had been seeking to destroy her son-in-law once and for all. She is using your brother, Duncan. Just as he is using her, she is using him as well.”

  Duncan sighed, a weary gesture. “I have no idea how they found one another. I did not even know she had attended the tourney,” scratching his damp head, his expression was pensive. “I am sorry for all of this, Stephan. As I said, I should have come to you earlier, but I had no idea he would go this far. What matters now is what I can do to help. How is Sir Morgan faring?”

  Stephan was amazingly calm. The more the situation came to light, the more resigned he became and he ran his fingers through his blond hair, thinking. “Well enough after the pounding he took at your brother’s hands. But more importantly than Morgan’s health, Breck has gone to retrieve Bose and return him to Dorset to face charges of thievery. At this moment, my brothers and I ride to aid Bose. Unless you are God, I doubt there is anything you can do to prevent the trial that is sure to follow.”

  Duncan snorted, without humor. “Sometimes I wish I were God. Were I God, I could banish my brother to Hades and never have to worry about him ever again. Even if I were the king, I could….”

  Stephan suddenly slapped his thigh, cleaving Duncan’s sentence. “Of course! Damnation, I should have realized…what you said! Henry!”

  Duncan looked to him curiously. “What about him?”

  Stephan sought to explain. “Bose used to be young Henry’s Captain of the Guard. Bose himself said that Henry was very fond of him and quite sorry to see him quit his post.” Quickly, he turned to Duncan, jabbing a gloved finger at the man. “Do you truly wish to help?”

  Duncan nodded hesitantly. “Then ride to London immediately,” Stephan told him. “Ride to Henry and tell him of the situation and plead for him to intervene. With Bose’s very life at stake, surely the king cannot refuse.”

  The excitement was catching. “I’ll go,” Duncan said, his pale cheeks gaining a measure of color as he realized his destiny to be at hand. “I will go to London and seek the king, I swear it.”

  “Good lad,” Stephan slapped him on the back, feeling a genuine seed of hope where moments before there had lingered not a solitary grain. “Leave this instant. If you ride hard with scarcely a stop, you can make it by tomorrow eve. Stay no more than a day, for that leaves us very little time to preserve my brother-in-law’s life.”

  Duncan eyed Stephan questioningly. “Your brother-in-law?”

  Stephan nodded, steering the young knight in the direction of his partially-collapsed camp. “If all went according to plan, Bose married my sister last night.”

  Duncan was visibly surprised. “And how would you know this?”

  Stephan smiled. “Because I helped them to elope. Surely you did not believe I would see my sister married to a man who broke my wrist. Now, off with you. The entire situation depends upon your speed and persuasion, Duncan. Make me proud.”

  Make me proud. Breck had never uttered such encouraging words and more than ever, Duncan was determined to do his very best for the sake of all concerned. Were it not for his brother, none of this would have happened. He needed to make restitution for the Kerry name.

  “I will, Stephan,” his voice was quiet. “I promise, I shall not fail.”

  Stephan met the soft green eyes, feeling a good deal of trust and compassion for the younger brother of a most evil warrior. And if the man’s eyes were a window to his soul, Stephan could see that the soul was as clear as a bottomless mountain lake.

  “I know,” slapping him on the shoulder once more, he turned in the direction of Chaldon’s stables. “Ride hard, Duncan. At this moment, I am bound for Ravendark to make sure your brother doesn’t do anything foolish to my sister and her new husband should he be fortunate enough to ensnare them. If a trial is imminent, I’ll delay it as best I can.”

  Duncan had never run so fast in his entire life.

  *

  Three miles out of Ravendark, Summer found the day to be bright and lovely. Leaving Salisbury at dawn, she had been surprised that Dag had not seen them off; Bose, too, had seemed concerned with his cousin’s lack of appearance but refrained from voicing his distress. The necessary marriage documents had awaited him and that was the only true matter of import.

  So they pushed onward, traveling through the dark, misty morn as Summer slumbered lightly against her husband’s armored chest. When the sun exploded upon the wide horizon and burned away the lingering haze, Lady de Moray found herself roused for the coming day by a husband weary of riding alone and silent as his wife dozed the time away.

  Refreshed and free of the sneezing that had plagued her most of the night, Summer was unperturbed that Bose had aroused her to a clear morning and spent most of her time observing the scenery as soft conversation flowed.

  “This is my property,” Bose said from behind her, his visor raised and his stubbled face vigilant. “My men and I hunt in these woods constantly.”

  “Hunt?” Summer frowned. “What do you hunt? My b-brothers like to hunt, but I forbid them to kill anything precious or sweet.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “That leaves very little choice.”

  She grinned, turning to face him. “Untrue. You have my permission to kill wild boar or opossum or skunk. But I forbid you to kill rabbit or deer.”

  “I like to kill deer.”

  “No longer. Sate your blood lust on a useless, ugly animal.”

  “Like Breck?”

  Summer laughed. “We shall d-display his head above our hearth and throw the rest of the carcass to the dogs.”

  He grinned. “How barbaric, Lady de Moray. I like the idea very much.”

  She continued to smile, touching his scarred cheek. “’Twould be justice well served. Speaking of the Devil, how are your stitches.”

  “Itching,” he grumbled, putting his fingers to his scalp as if she had reminded him of his discomfort. “I must wash my hair tonight of the sweat and dirt so that the wound does not fester.”

  “I cleaned it well enough so that it s-should not become infected,” she said, catching sight of the delicate black sutures. After a moment, her gaze trailed to the three parallel scars that ran along his cheek, touching the thick, puckered skin. “I doubt the scar will be worse than these. How did you acquire them?”

  “Margot,” he replied without hesitation. “She did this to me on the day I learned of Lora’s death. ’Twas her way of expressing her grief, I suppose, raking her nails across my face in anguish.”

  Summer’s pleasant expression vanished, her eyes taking on a distinct countenance of horror. “Good Lord, Bose… she scratched you? I believed you to have encountered a wild animal or… or a terrible weapon of some kind. D-Do you mean to tell me that a frail old woman rent these scars across your face?”

  He nodded faintly, kissing her hand when it came close to his lips. “She did. And I let her.” When Summer’s appalled expression focused inquisitively on his onyx-black eyes, he found he could hardly hold her gaze. “’Tis difficult to explain. It was as if I welcomed the pain, as if somehow I was accepting punishment for Lora’s death. Accepting judgment for what I had done.”

  Summer’s features softened. “We’ve had this discussion b-before,” she said quietly. “You did not kill Lora. ’Twas God’s will that she perished in childbirth and you must come to realize that.”

  He merely shrugged and looked away, but Summer would not be put off so easily. Her intelligent mind began to work. “Tell me, Bose; if C-Chaldon was under attack and I asked you to help defend her, would you do it?”

  “Without hesitation. ’Tis my duty, as your husband.”

  “And you would do it gladly?”

  “Of course.”

  Summer cocked her head. “And if you were killed, would it be my fault for asking you to fight?”

  He could see where she was leading and he shut his mouth, refusing to answer her until she grasped h
is chin and forced him to look at her. Eye to eye, his stubborn stance melted in the wake of her searing golden gaze.

  “Nay, love. It would not be your fault.”

  She cocked a well-defined brow. “But I asked it of you.”

  He sighed, knowing the answer she was expecting. “And I complied willingly.”

  She smiled. So did he. Gently, she kissed his smooth lips. “You see? Lora was willing to make the attempt, knowing it was her duty in life. And her attempt failed, but it had nothing to do with you.”

  He held her gaze a moment, sighing heavily and with great emotion. Grasping the back of her head with his free hand, he kissed her until she squealed. “You are far too wise for your own good, Lady de Moray,” he murmured against her lips. “I realize that I will never be able to win an argument against you.”

  Summer smiled and his kissed her teeth. “Never,” she agreed. “Your days of domination are ended.”

  Exhaling with contentment, Summer turned to face forward on the charger once again, eager to reach Ravendark and commence her new life. For certain, she had never felt so completely satisfied or needed, as a wife should be; the world that had eluded her grasp was finally hers for the taking and she was eager to know the progression of her newly content existence. Around her waist, Bose’s arm tightened and she smiled, patting his gloved hand. He was anxious to reach his fortress, too, for more reasons than she could grasp.

  “Do you s-suppose your knights are waiting for us?” she asked.

  “If they left Chaldon when we did, undoubtedly,” Bose could nearly see the tip of his northern turret in the distance. “In fact, I should have expected to meet a welcoming party by now.”

  Summer looked about, the heavy clusters of foliage and endless meadows beyond. “We are still a good distance out,” she offered helpfully, noting Bose appeared somewhat perturbed when she turned to look at him. “T-Tell me, husband; what are Ravendark’s sundry functions?”

  Bose answered even though he was still on the lookout for his knights. “Aside from the fortune I have built on the tournament circuit, Ravendark has three small herds of cattle. We do adequately well selling beeves and hide.”