Lord of a Thousand Nights

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Lord of a Thousand Nights Page 12

by Madeline Hunter


  Nay, she had not forgotten.

  He tried his most charming smile.

  It had no effect whatsoever.

  Hell. He may as well pack his weapons and head back to France today.

  As soon as they entered the gate of Black Lyne Keep, it became clear that if there would be hell to pay with Morvan, it would be paid at once. Horses and men crowded the yard. High on the steps leading to the hall the towering, dark-haired figure of Morvan Fitzwaryn stood with several other new men.

  Anna had pulled her hood back up and rode a bit to the rear. Morvan did not notice her, but he did see his sister. Annoyance flashed in his sparkling black eyes and he descended the stairs.

  “Have you gone mad, David? You bring my sister into a war?”

  Ian decided this was not his argument. He handed his horse to John and went over to the stairs to find a spot with a good view. He settled himself against the railing in front of two of the men who had come with Morvan. One was a red-haired knight and the other was an older man with white hair and beard who appeared to find the public display in the yard distasteful.

  Andrew Armstrong eased over until he stood beside Ian. Ian quietly explained the relationships of the people playing out this strange welcome.

  “You are being too protective, Morvan,” Christiana said, jumping out of the wagon and embracing her brother. “David said Ian has secured this keep, so it isn't as if we will have to stay at the siege camp.”

  Morvan scowled down at his sister and glared at her husband.

  “She has survived the fall of Caen and crossed the Alps twice, Morvan. All will be well,” David said.

  “And this way, we can be near David and you,” Christiana said.

  “We?” Morvan repeated suspiciously. He turned on the mounted men. His arms fell from Christiana when he saw the tall, thin, hooded one. “Hell's teeth. What are you doing here?”

  Anna calmly removed her bow and hooked it to her saddle. “A fine welcome to give your wife after five months.”

  Morvan went to her, but the yard had gone quiet and everyone could hear. “You are supposed to be in Brittany.”

  “It appears that I am here.” She dismounted with a lithe movement.

  “We agreed that you would remain at La Roche de Roald.”

  “We agreed no such thing. You decreed it. But I grew bored and remembered our marriage agreement. You promised that if you ever came back here, it would be my choice whether to accompany you or not.”

  “My concession was that you would not have to do so if you chose not to.”

  “Then you should have picked your words more carefully when we negotiated our bargain.”

  “Damnation. Did you bring the children too?”

  Anna pushed off her hood and ran her fingers through her curls. “Only Roald, but I left him in Hampstead with Christiana's children.” She turned with hands on hips, a tall amazon facing down an opponent. “I can see that I have displeased you. I will return to Carlisle at once and find passage to London and Brittany.” She made to re-mount her horse.

  “The hell you will.” Morvan grabbed her before she could swing her leg. He pulled her into a fierce embrace and kiss.

  A ripple of laughter flowed through the yard. Anna returned the greeting with equal passion.

  “A handsome couple,” Andrew said. “Will they be staying here? Should I see to chambers?”

  “Most likely,” Ian said. “The ladies to be sure, for a while. Morvan and David for at least a night or two, I would guess.”

  Morvan's hands had begun to travel intimately over his wife's back and hips.

  “Perhaps I should show them to the solar before he ravishes her right here in the yard,” Andrew suggested.

  Ian began to laugh, but the sound choked in his throat. Hell. The solar—

  “Better not. She is there.”

  “She? Are you referring to Lady Reyna?”

  “Aye.”

  “I am sure the lady will remove herself. Besides, her father will be wanting to speak with her.”

  “Her father?”

  Andrew gestured over his shoulder with his thumb. “The old man behind us is Duncan Graham. The one with the red hair is his son Aymer. They showed up at the gate soon after you left, but refused to enter until Morvan arrived. Seems Morvan asked Duncan to meet here today about Lady Reyna. I expect the Grahams will be staying tonight as well. I will have to remove myself and some others to pallets in the hall to accommodate them, and I suppose I can ask the Armstrong ladies to all share a chamber —”

  Ian ceased to hear Andrew's contemplations of sleeping arrangements. He snuck a glance at the two men behind him, and thought about Reyna tied up in the solar. This, he suspected, was part of the wages of sin. Fate had no mercy for the wicked.

  He debated if he could slip up very quickly and— But David was interrupting Morvan and saying something while he gestured to the stairs. Morvan turned with Anna under his arm. “Ian, where is Lady Reyna?” he asked, walking over.

  Andrew answered for him. “She is in the solar, Sir Morvan.”

  Ian gave Andrew a subtle but vicious nudge. “I will fetch her,” he said, turning to go.

  “We will go to her,” Anna said. “I look forward to meeting the lady. David has regaled us with stories of her spirit. I think we will be great friends.”

  “There are many steps, my lady, and you have traveled a long distance. My steward will bring you refreshment in the hall while I go call the lady.”

  “Nonsense. I want to examine the keep. I have never seen one this tall, and am curious. It reminds me of a cathedral tower,” Anna said, narrowing her eyes in a way that indicated her insistence had nothing to do with keeps or spirited women, but with contradicting a man she disliked.

  All the same, he tried again. “Some ale first, perhaps—”

  “Hell, I didn't come here for ale and revelry, but to see my daughter,” a voice boomed from behind him. Duncan Graham's heavy hand appeared to grasp Andrew's shoulder. “You, show us this solar.”

  Andrew cringed beneath the grip and obediently turned to lead the way. Duncan and Aymer followed. Ian tried to catch Morvan's eye as he passed to communicate that this was unwise, but Morvan and Anna had become reabsorbed in each other. With a martyr's sigh, Ian fell in step with the little procession heading up the stairs.

  Through the hall they stomped. Up the stairs, not nearly as numerous now as Ian would have liked. Down the passageway to the solar door.

  In they filed, Morvan and Anna, David and Christiana, Duncan and Aymer, with Ian bringing up the rear. Even as he passed the threshold he could see their surprised faces as they lined up and stared at the bed. He walked forward, opening his mouth to explain.

  And then he saw her. It was worse than he expected. Reyna had maneuvered herself onto the bed so that she could lie comfortably. Her hands were still bound by a belt, his belt, to the bedboard, her arms stretched up over her head. Her movements had scrunched her skirt high up her thighs. Her position bore an unfortunate resemblance to the one in which he had tied her in his tent, and it conveyed the same vulnerable, sexual message.

  Reyna looked back at the assemblage in surprise. “Father!” she cried. “Aymer!”

  David sighed audibly. Morvan shot Ian a look that could kill. Lady Anna pursed her lips. “I see that you are still wooing women with your old subtlety, Ian,” she said.

  Duncan Graham stood over his daughter, his body tight with fury. “Damnation, Fitzwaryn,” he boomed, turning furious eyes on them all.

  Ian opened his mouth to attempt an explanation. Before he had the chance, Aymer Graham strode over to him. “You dare to use my sister as if she were some common war prize, English bastard?” With one quick jerk, Aymer pulled off his gauntlet and flung it to the floor at Ian's feet.

  Total silence fell in the chamber. Ian looked up from the gauntlet into Aymer's gray eyes. “Total combat?”

  “Aye. On the morrow,” Aymer snarled.

  “Nay, Aymer
, you will not do this,” Reyna cried.

  “Silence, woman,” Duncan yelled.

  “I'll not be silent. This is not as it seems—” She didn't have a chance to finish. Duncan's hand swung back and hit her sharply across the face.

  Outrage split Ian's head. He started forward, but Morvan's firm hand on his arm stopped him.

  “You are the witch's spawn to be sure, daughter, and no doubt as bad as your mother,” Duncan said. “Your brother will avenge the family honor, even if your own can not be saved.”

  Ian shook off Morvan's hand and placed his own on his sword hilt. If Duncan hit her again, he would cut the man down and damn the consequences.

  Christiana glided over to the bed and untied Reyna's hands. “Since the time and terms of the challenge have been settled, perhaps now you would like to refresh yourself in the hall,” she said to Duncan. She spoke with a gracious calm that seemed out of place, as if Duncan had indeed arrived for ale and revelry.

  It disarmed the old man as a sword never could. Duncan stared at her a moment, then nodded with a growl. He yanked Reyna to her feet and pushed her toward her brother. Fear and anger lit Reyna's eyes as the two men pulled her to the door. Her body tensed in resistance and she jerked free of Aymer's hold as if it revolted her. Andrew Armstrong went over to escort them.

  “Lady Reyna, may I join you?” Christiana asked, still soothing the mood with noble grace. “I am told that you read Greek. I never learned, and had hoped you might instruct me while I visited here.”

  “She will not be here after tomorrow,” Aymer hissed.

  “All the same, I'm sure we have much to discuss,” Christiana said firmly, falling into step beside Reyna as they passed through the doorway.

  Morvan, Anna, David, and Ian stood silently. Aymer's gauntlet still rested on the floor.

  “Hell, Ian. Didn't Elizabeth teach you anything?” Morvan finally muttered.

  “As the lady said, it was not as it seemed.” He described her escape and the events that had led to her being tied to his bed.

  “Even if it is as you say, they will not believe her denials,” Anna said. “Women used thus will lie about it, because they are scorned afterward even though the fault was not their own. When she returns to her father's house, it will be in shame now.”

  The last thing Ian wanted was this woman participating in the council that needed to be held, especially since her willfulness had forced this little drama. Unfortunately, Morvan looked unlikely to order her dismissal, and she didn't seem to accept that she should retire on her own.

  Anna perched herself on the edge of the bed. David calmly took the chair. Morvan paced over to the window and stared out. “So, tomorrow you will kill Aymer Graham,” he mused bitterly.

  “I trust we are all praying it turns out that way.”

  “We will have that family on our backs for generations.”

  “Are you suggesting that I sacrifice myself to avoid that complication?”

  “No doubt that is too much to hope for,” Anna said. “Harclow is retaken now or never. If the Grahams come down out of those hills, it could all unravel.”

  “I did not make the challenge, my lady.”

  “It does not look or sound as if you treated Reyna with chivalry.”

  “She was not harmed and if she had obeyed and stayed put—”

  “Why would such a woman obey such as you?”

  Morvan glanced from his wife to Ian and back again. “Leave us, my love,” he said. “Join my sister and help blunt Duncan's anger. If we find a solution, we will need him amenable.”

  A challenge flickered for an instant in Anna's eyes. Ian felt both surprise and relief when she rose and left.

  Morvan turned to Ian. “You think that I should stop my wife from speaking to you thus.”

  Ian shrugged. “It is clear that she strongly dislikes me and is prone to think the worst.”

  Morvan turned back to the window. His body became immobile, and an aura emanated from him, as if a fierce power were being contained. “I could bid her hold her tongue, Ian. But then, perhaps it is not in my interest to do so,” he said. “After all, you are the only living man beside myself who has ever touched her.”

  Ian noted an unfortunate emphasis on the word “living.” He also recognized the tone, and the undercurrent of danger flowing through it. Over on the chair, David went very still.

  During the months since Ian had saved Morvan's life, they had never before referred to that night eight years ago in that Windsor garden.

  “It was long ago, Morvan, and I was little more than a boy,” Ian said, while he calculated his odds of surviving if he and Morvan met with swords. About even, he guessed. If Morvan killed him first over this old insult, it would certainly settle things nicely with the Grahams. He wondered if Morvan were weighing that possibility.

  “Aye. Long ago,” Morvan said, turning with a vague smile. “Well, David, we have one hell of a problem here, don't we?”

  “We do at that. Short of Ian conveniently falling to Aymer's sword or ax, it will not end tomorrow, and I do not think Aymer will best him.”

  “I thank you for the confidence,” Ian said.

  “I have no doubt that Reyna is trying to convince her kinsmen that they have misunderstood, but it will not be accepted as truth. As Anna pointed out, women who are raped will often deny it to avoid the shame and scorn,” David said. “So let us assume that convincing the Grahams of their error is unlikely. We must then deal with the insult itself.” He looked not to Ian, but to Morvan.

  “Aye,” Morvan said. “And there is an easy solution to that insult.”

  “An old solution. Time-honored,” David agreed.

  “With no real cost, and a certain usefulness in other matters,” Morvan added thoughtfully.

  “Duncan will have no choice but to agree. Aymer too. And if they had hoped to plot some future mischief, it will neatly corral them there,” David continued.

  Both men simultaneously shifted their gazes to Ian.

  They smiled.

  Ian looked at Morvan and then at David, and then at Morvan again. Revelation struck. “Oh, hell. Nay.”

  “At least consider it,” David said.

  “Nay. Better if you asked me to fall to Aymer's sword, Morvan.”

  “Nonsense. She is a lovely woman.”

  “She is disobedient and troublesome and manipulative. She may well be a murderess.”

  “Just days ago you were convinced she was not,” David reminded him.

  “I have reconsidered the evidence.”

  Morvan leaned against the edge of the window niche. “I'm sure that you have guessed that it has been my intention to give you land when this was over.”

  Ian hadn't guessed that at all. Most men would consider helping him return to England sufficient payment for the debt of their life.

  “I had been thinking of lands to the southeast, but perhaps this makes more sense. You took this keep. You are known, and the strategic location will require a strong vassal. Graham lands begin a mere half-mile east, and the Armstrong holdings of Clivedale start five miles north. This keep was built to guard those borders.”

  “Is there no family to whom these lands must be returned?” Ian asked. What Morvan had said pricked at his memory in a provocative way.

  “Black Lyne Keep and the surrounding farms were never enfiefed. A castellan held them.”

  “I had assumed that you would give the free lands to your younger sons.”

  “There are properties enough here and in Brittany. Nay, perhaps there is gold in this problem, Ian. Sir Robert of Kelso's testament can present difficulties even after I retake Harclow. Lady Reyna's father or future husband may make claims in her name. If they petition through the courts it could drag on for years, and if they use an army, that is just more opportunity for long conflict. If I give you the lands and you marry the lady, the title is clear and secure. Are you willing?”

  “If I refuse?”

  “The lands a
re still yours if you swear fealty to me. We will do it as soon as I have Harclow again.”

  “And if you do not retake Harclow?”

  “Then they are still yours through the lady, if you wed her.”

  Ian considered this astonishing offer. Land. His. Not extensive or rich, but his to hold. And Reyna. The notion of being tied to her filled him with a strange joy and a peculiar dread.

  “Are you willing?” Morvan asked again. “I am willing. The lady may not be.”

  Chapter ELEVEN

  Reyna entered the solar where Ian, David, and Morvan waited for her. She was glad for the excuse to escape her father and brother.

  Twelve years had not blunted the fear she felt of Duncan and the darker emotions that Aymer evoked, but she had not let them see it. It had infuriated them to realize that they no longer dealt with a cowering, biddable girl. She felt sure that if Christiana and Anna had not been present, Aymer would have struck her at several points in the heated conversation.

  Morvan Fitzwaryn greeted her courteously. “We did not meet properly, my lady. As a boy, I knew of your late husband. He was respected throughout the region as an honorable knight.”

  She studied this new man. He was in his early thirties, with sparkling black eyes like his sister Christiana's. It occurred to her that she was surrounded by three different but equally compelling examples of male beauty.

  “Is it a particular conceit of yours, Sir Morvan, that only handsome men serve you? An identifying mark for your retinue, rather like the colors of a lord's livery?”

  He didn't even blink. “Aye, my lady. And I insist that all the archers be blond and the foot soldiers dark-haired. Ian's company didn't match, which is why I sent them here.”

  She laughed and he smiled back. Despite their humorous banter, she felt a dark mood in the room. It emanated from Ian, out of view behind her at the hearth.

  “Lady Reyna, I'm sure you will agree that it would be best if the duel between your brother and Ian were stopped,” Morvan said.

  “I do agree. I just spent an hour trying to convince Aymer of his error. However, my father and brother do not take any woman's counsel, least of all mine.”

 

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