Border Brides

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Warenne was feeling disoriented and sickened at the mention of his wife, Madeleine. “I have been home,” he said flatly. “Maddie made no mention of such things. If she knew, she would have told me.”

  Shaun shook his head. “Not if it meant your ire towards her family,” he said. “If Mad did not tell you, then she did it to protect you and to protect us. She does not like discord, especially between family members.”

  Warenne’s mind was reeling with the very real possibility that his beloved wife had withheld vital information from him about something that was quite possibly very important to him and his cause. But he couldn’t dwell on that now; whatever was between him and his wife was his business alone. He would not shout it out for everyone to hear. He struggled to overcome his shock and disappointment.

  “It is of little matter,” he said, downplaying the seriousness of Madeleine’s lack of trust in her husband. “What matters now is what your business is here. I would know now.”

  Shaun knew that Warenne was off-balance by his appearance but that was of little concern to him at the moment. He gestured to his bulky companion. “You know Rik du Reims, of course,” he said. “His family is East Anglia.”

  “I know him.”

  “We have ridden a very long way to speak with Solomon de Wolfe. Will you announce us?”

  Warenne leaned onto the frozen stone, peering down at his brother-in-law and the man’s noble companion. “I will when you tell me what your business is with him,” he said. “De Wolfe is an old man who buried his eldest son yesterday. Surely you are aware of that, Shaun. Norfolk paid two Northumberland knights to betray all of Northumberland’s knight corps. When Titus tried to stop them, they killed him.”

  Summerlin lost some of the confidence in his expression, now replaced by a hint of sorrow. “I had heard of Titus’ death,” he replied. “But those knights tell a different story. They were defending themselves against Titus and killed him in self-defense.”

  Warenne turned to look at Atticus and was met by, perhaps, the most steely expression he had ever seen. The Lion of the North was gazing back at him as hard and as unmovable as Warenne had ever seen the man. He was mostly looking to Atticus for a response or a comment on the circumstances surrounding Titus’ death but when he received nothing, he returned his attention to Shaun.

  “Be careful how you proceed, Shaun,” he said calmly. “The Lion hears everything you say. If he charges, I cannot stop him.”

  That information seemed to surprise Summerlin. “Atticus de Wolfe is here?” he asked. “Then I would speak with him as well. My message is for him, to be truthful. We did not know he was at Wolfe’s Lair.”

  “He is. Be advised.”

  That bit of knowledge seemed to change Summerlin’s tactics. He didn’t seem nearly as smug as he continued. “If he is listening, then I come bearing greetings from John de Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk,” he said. “The duke sends his warmest greetings and his sincerest condolences on the passing of Titus de Wolfe. It is with this in mind that he has sent me to speak with Solomon and Atticus on a most urgent matter. I have been instructed to only divulge details of my purpose directly to the recipients so that is as much as I can tell you. Will you please announce me to Solomon and Atticus?”

  Warenne sighed faintly, unsure what more to say. He turned to Atticus again only to discover that the man was no longer standing next to him. Panicked, he demanded to know where Atticus had gone but no one could seem to tell him. Even Kenton was missing, which was a sure sign that something very bad was about to happen. When Atticus and Kenton traveled in a pair, death wasn’t far off. As Warenne sent the de Wolfe soldiers scattering in search of Atticus and Kenton, the great gates of Wolfe’s Lair began to crank open.

  Startled by the noise of rattling chains and creaking wood, Warenne and the men upon the wall strained to catch a glimpse of the gates and were not surprised to see Atticus emerging.

  “God, no,” Warenne breathed. Then, he lifted his voice. “Atticus, go back inside! Do you hear me?”

  Atticus heard his friend but he soundly ignored him. At the moment, all of his attention was focused on the six Norfolk men in front of him and particularly on the knights. They were big men, of the highest order, but that only served to fuel Atticus’ bloodlust. He knew Kenton was behind him, standing in the open gate, watching the four men-at-arms in case someone decided to be clever and pull out a crossbow. Kenton had a crossbow of his own trained on the group. With that confidence, Atticus was able to have his complete focus on his prey.

  And, yes, they were prey.

  “I am Atticus de Wolfe,” he said calmly. “You will tell me your business now.”

  Summerlin wasn’t surprised to see that Atticus had emerged from behind the walls of protection. From what he’d heard about The Lion of the North, there were no walls that could adequately contain or protect him. Atticus de Wolfe was something of a myth, immortal and swift. He inspected the very big knight who had announced himself as Atticus.

  “The Lion of the North,” Summerlin finally said, some satisfaction in his tone. “Somehow, I thought you would be nine feet tall with swords instead of arms.”

  Atticus remained cool, focused. “In the heat of battle, I am all you have imagined and more.”

  It was a fairly arrogant statement but Summerlin rather liked it; he fought off a grin. “We’ve not formally met, my lord. I am Sir Shaun Summerlin,” he said, then indicated the knight next to him. “My companion is from the Earls of East Anglia, Alrik du Reims. We have been sent by de Mowbray to speak with you on a matter of utmost importance.”

  Atticus gazed up at the knights in the deepening light of dawn. “I do not speak with men on horseback,” he said. “Dismount.”

  With some hesitation, they did. Now, Summerlin and du Reims were on level ground with Atticus but somehow, Atticus seemed bigger. Larger than life. Summerlin pulled off his helm and propped it on his saddle, peeling off the layers of wool to reveal a handsome, square-jawed face and shaggy, blond hair.

  “Is this acceptable?” he asked.

  Atticus didn’t respond directly. “State your business.”

  “May I approach?”

  “Stay where you are.”

  It was clear that Atticus was not the least bit friendly; Summerlin did not expect the man to be. “De Mowbray extends his sorrow at the passing of Titus de Wolfe,” he said. “He wanted me to relay that to your father.”

  Atticus’ lips flinched in a hint of a sneer. “Spare me your platitudes of condolences,” he said, his voice low and threatening. “De Mowbray bribed two of Northumberland’s knights to swear fealty to Edward and when they approached my brother with betrayal in their hearts, my brother denied them and they killed him for it. If they told you they killed my brother in self-defense, then they lied. My brother told me upon his deathbed what happened. De la Londe and de Troiu killed my brother because he refused to swear fealty to Edward and, based upon that betrayal, it is my intention to track those two knights down and kill them. If anyone stands in my way, I will kill them as well. Is this in any way unclear?”

  Summerlin was a seasoned knight. He knew how to negotiate and he knew how to deal with threats. He understood that de Wolfe had lost his brother and he knew the man was grieving, but he also believed every word. Atticus de Wolfe, as far as he knew, did not issue threats. He made promises that he kept.

  “I was not aware that Titus lived after his wounds were inflicted,” he said evenly. “Clearly, we were told that Titus was killed by men defending themselves against him. Since none of us were present when the event took place, mayhap there is truth on both sides of the tale.”

  “My brother’s deathbed confession is the only truth.”

  Summerlin nodded faintly; he wasn’t going to argue the point. In fact, there was no use in delaying what he had come to relay. Better to get to the point.

  “As you wish,” he said to Atticus. “Will you summon your father so that he may hear Norfolk’s proposal?�
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  “Nay. Get on with it.”

  Summerlin could see that Atticus had no intention of showing any manners in the situation; therefore, he decided his manners were misplaced as well. His behavior turned cold and professional, just as Atticus’ was. It was time to discuss the reason behind his visit.

  The time had come.

  “Norfolk has sent me to propose an alliance between the House of Norfolk and the House of de Wolfe,” he said. “Specifically, an alliance between Wolfe’s Lair and Norfolk. Surely you realize that Edward is now king and Henry has fled the country with his whore wife. There is no longer any reason for a house as fine as that of de Wolfe to serve a king with no honor. It is Norfolk’s wish to extend a hand of friendship and peace to you. If you agree, I have one thousand men encamped over two miles away that Norfolk offers to you to reinforce your ranks. I have also brought supply wagons with me and coinage to bolster your supplies and wealth. It will be an equitable agreement. However, if you refuse, Norfolk has instructed me to lay siege to Wolfe’s Lair, confiscate it, and make it an outpost for Edward. Do you understand these terms as I have relayed them to you, Sir Atticus?”

  So there it was – motives as plain as the sun in the sky. Norfolk was now moving on Wolfe’s Lair. Titus had denied the man’s offer and had died for that denial. Now, de Mowbray was going to the heart of the House of de Wolfe, to the Lair, and he was trying to infiltrate it any way he could.

  Atticus respected a man who was to the point, and Summerlin had been quite clear. His gaze lingered on the man a moment before turning around and moving for Kenton. He murmured something to the big knight, who then disappeared into Wolfe’s Lair. Atticus, however, remained by the open gate, his gaze still on Summerlin. It would not do to take his eye off the prize. As he lingered by the open gate, Warenne suddenly appeared.

  “Atticus, what are you doing?” he asked, urgency in his voice. “What did he say to you?”

  Atticus’ gaze beheld Summerlin standing several feet away. “He has offered us money, supplies, and men if we will swear fealty to Edward,” he told the earl. “If we refuse, then he has one thousand men camped about two miles away who will lay siege to Wolfe’s Lair in an attempt to claim it for Edward.”

  Warenne sighed heavily, his attention shifting to his brother-in-law. “You know that Summerlin is my wife’s brother,” he said in a low voice. “Atticus, I would not dream of telling you how to conduct your business, but whatever you do, if you can spare Shaun, I would consider it a personal favor.”

  Atticus knew who Summerlin was; he had heard the conversation between Warenne and the knight upon the wall.

  “I will do what I can,” Atticus said. “But if he tries to kill me, I will have no choice.”

  “I understand. What are you planning on doing?”

  Atticus looked at him. “We have been threatened, Ren,” he said. “What would you do?”

  Warenne could only sigh heavily again, raking his hand through his dark hair. “Should I prepare the man for battle, then?”

  “That may be wise.”

  Warenne was deeply upset by the situation. His focus moved to Summerlin once again and without saying a word to Atticus, he was suddenly heading in Summerlin’s direction. He simply couldn’t let the situation spiral out of control without trying to ease it. For everyone’s sake, he had to try.

  “What in the name of God are you doing?” he hissed at Summerlin as he drew close to the man. “You have sincerely come to Wolfe’s Lair to threaten the House of de Wolfe? Is de Mowbray truly that stupid? Does he not realize that by attacking Wolfe’s Lair, all of Castle Questing and, more than likely, all of the north will come down on him? This is not a war de Mowbray can win.”

  Summerlin’s gaze was steady upon his brother-in-law, a man he truly liked. “Ren, do you not understand that Edward is king now?” he replied with equal passion. “Henry is gone; the man has fled the country. That being the case, any man who supports Henry is the enemy of the King of England. We cannot have enemies embedded within our own country.”

  Warenne hissed unhappily. “You are speaking of de Wolfe,” he said. “That family is the core of England’s heart. They are not enemies.”

  “They are if they support Henry.”

  Warenne threw up his hands in frustration, stomping about as he struggled not to wrap his fingers around Shaun’s neck. He threw a finger in Atticus’ direction.

  “That man is The Lion of the North,” he said. “He is smarter and more cunning and more passionate about truth and justice and England than you could ever hope to be. If he decides to move against you, I cannot stop him. I cannot protect you. Go away, Shaun; go away and take your men with you. Get out of here before something terrible happens and I am forced to tell my wife that I watched her brother die.”

  Shaun looked at Warenne with a mixture of sympathy and anger. “Madeleine has gone back to Blackstone Castle,” Shaun told him. “She is no longer at Thetford. She has taken the children and has returned to the home she was born in. She lives under my father’s roof, Ren. You may as well swear fealty to Edward because you shan’t have your wife back if you do not. Father will not let her return to you.”

  Warenne stared at the man, struggling to conceal his shock. “You must be mad.”

  Shaun shook his head. “Not in the least,” he said. “Go back to Thetford and see for yourself.”

  Warenne was reeling. He stepped back, away from Shaun, struggling to process what he’d been told. It was true that he’d not been home in quite some time but that was necessitated by the battles he had been involved in. He hadn’t a choice. It had been something that had been a terrible rub between him and his wife but the knowledge that his lovely Madeleine had gone back to her father had him shaken to the core. Had she so little faith in him? Had she simply given up? Without anything more to say, Warenne made his way back to Atticus. In fact, by the time he reached Atticus, he simply walked past the man and didn’t say a word. He continued on into the innards of Wolfe’s Lair in complete silence.

  Atticus, taking his eye off his prey for a brief moment to watch his friend walk by him, took some concern with Warenne’s silent manner. It wasn’t like him in the least. Thinking that Summerlin must have said something terrible to upset the man, his rage returned as his focus once again moved back to Summerlin.

  There was going to be blood to pay.

  Atticus was in the process of studying his opponent when Kenton suddenly appeared by his side, pushing the hilt of a big, heavy sword into his hand. Atticus looked down to see that he was holding Titus’ sword, a masterfully crafted piece of equipment that had been Titus’ pride and joy. As Kenton took up station by the open gate again, crossbow in hand, Atticus made his way, very slowly, towards Summerlin.

  “Although I understand and appreciate that you are under Norfolk’s orders, you must understand that by carrying out those orders, you are now in my line of fire,” Atticus said steadily. “I have sworn vengeance against those who killed my brother and I warned you what would happen to those who stood in my way. You are now standing in my way. I will give you the opportunity to leave, now, but that grace will only be given once. If you refuse to leave, and take your men with you, then I shall be forced to do what is necessary. Do you comprehend?”

  Summerlin didn’t flinch nor did he change expressions. He remained surprisingly calm for a man who had just had his life threatened. “I do, my lord.”

  “Will you leave peacefully?”

  “Alas, I cannot. I must carry out Norfolk’s orders.”

  “Then you understand what this means for you.”

  “I understand that you are refusing Norfolk’s offer.”

  “That would be a fair assumption.”

  Summerlin didn’t back away, not even when Atticus came to within a few yards of him. He simply stood there, facing the man who had earned a reputation as a cunning fighter and brilliant military commander. He was waiting for Atticus to rush him and he believed himself properl
y braced.

  Not wanting to provoke anything, he stood as still as stone and bade du Reims to do the same as Atticus began to stalk a slow circle around him, studying him from in front and behind. Atticus wasn’t wearing a lick of protection. In fact, all the man had on was a heavy, woolen tunic, breeches and boots, and a very big broadsword in his left hand. Summerlin’s senses were heightened as Atticus got in behind him, studying him and inspecting him. But The Lion made no move against him; he was watching, waiting, and biding his time.

  “What did you say to Thetford that upset him so?” Atticus asked from behind.

  Summerlin turned his head slightly so he was speaking in Atticus’ general direction. “His wife is my sister,” he said. “I told him that she has returned to the home of our father.”

  He heard Atticus snort faintly. “And you hoped that would sway Ren to Edward’s cause?”

  “I had hoped nothing. I simply told him the truth.”

  Atticus was still standing behind the knights in a move designed to unbalance them and make them very nervous. “I want you to listen to me and listen closely,” he said. “My knight by the gate has the crossbow trained on your companion, du Reims,” he said. “If you look upon the walls, there are several soldiers with crossbows trained on your men-at-arms. If they move, they will be killed. Is this clear so far?”

  Summerlin glanced to the wall without moving his head. He could, indeed, see armored men with nasty-looking crossbows trained upon them. Cursing himself that he had allowed his party to walk into a trap, he was starting to feel some disgust.

  “It is clear,” he said, knowing his men heard him. “Is this how you treat guests?”

  “You delivered a violent ultimatum. Therefore, you are not a guest.”

  “I could have brought the entire bloody army to your doorstep.”

  “But you did not. Now, I will deliver an ultimatum of my own.”

  “I am listening.”

  “I am going to take you and your men hostage and exchange you with Norfolk for de la Londe and de Troiu.”