Border Brides

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Cortez just looked at her. His eyes seemed to widen and his mouth worked as if he wanted to say something. In truth, there was a good deal he wanted to say. But instead, he abruptly turned and walked out of the stable. Diamantha stood there a moment, wondering if she should follow, when she suddenly heard a loud and angry yell. It reverberated off the stone walls and caused the animals to start, including General. Even Diamantha jumped when she heard it, for it was most angry and primal. But as soon as it ended, Cortez was back in the stable, taking a deep breath and looking a little more in control of himself. He resumed his place against the stall door as he faced Diamantha. It took her a moment to realize that he had been the one to release the furious roar.

  “That,” he said quietly, “is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard in my life. Are you that careless of a mother that you would actually expose your child to such danger?”

  Diamantha could have become incensed over what was a slanderous comment against her abilities as a parent but she did not. She remained calm.

  “I am not careless at all,” she said. “I am thinking only of her. She was very close to her father and I feel strongly that she must go.”

  “Your daughter is not going with us.”

  Diamantha could have done one of two things at that point; she could have gone head to head with him, or she could try to soften him with a little honey. She thought to attempt the latter just to see how well it would work. It was manipulative, she knew, but she wasn’t beyond being a little manipulative to gain her wants. Besides, she had married the man. It was time to find out just how far she could push him because, so far, his bark seemed to be worse than his bite. Well, except for that primal roar, which had been quite frightening. But it was time to find out if the man was all bark and no bite at all. Reaching out, she put a soft hand on his arm.

  “Please,” she begged softly. “It means so much to me. I could not be away from her for so long. And I feel as if this is her calling, too. Robert was her father, after all. Please let her go with us. I promise she will not be any trouble.”

  She even threw a little sniffle in, as if she was verging on tears. Cortez, however, was focused entirely on her warm hand against his flesh. It was by far the most marvelous sensation he had ever experienced in his life. He could feel himself folding like an idiot, without a fight, and he struggled not to.

  “You do not understand,” he said, his tone considerably more gentle than it had been moments before. “It is not that I do not wish to take her. She is a sweet and beautiful girl, and I would like nothing better. But if something happened to her on our journey, I would never forgive myself. I have already lost one daughter. I could not bear to lose another.”

  He was beating Diamantha at her own manipulative game. The last several words were like a dagger to her heart and suddenly, she was the one in danger of folding. She could see the pain in his eyes as he spoke and it touched her. But she held her ground.

  “You would not lose her,” she whispered. “But I cannot be without her. She must come with me or I cannot go.”

  “Good,” he said with great relief. “Remain here and I will return as soon as I can. That is the way I prefer it.”

  Diamantha could see that he had called her bluff, turning her own scheme of manipulation around on her until he was now the one verging on his wants. She removed her hand from his arm.

  “Nay,” she said, now sounding hard where only moments before she had been soft. “If you do not allow us both to go, I will commit both myself and my daughter to a convent and you will never see us again. If we cannot go together, then I will not wait for you to return. You will lose us.”

  The game of gentle persuasion had suddenly turned cold and serious. Fact was, Cortez believed her; she was a determined and head-strong woman, and he believed her implicitly. Uncertain, he knew he couldn’t leave with that threat hanging over his head. He couldn’t trust that he wouldn’t return to find both his wife and daughter barricaded in a cloister. Nay, he couldn’t stomach that at all. Now he was backed into a corner and he couldn’t see any way out. He had no choice.

  She had him.

  “Very well,” he muttered, sighing with great regret. “If that is the way you feel, then Sophie may come. But know I will be against it every step of the way. If you wanted to start this marriage off with resentment and bitterness, then you are well on your way, lady.”

  Diamantha’s brief flash of victory was quickly doused. She could see he was genuinely resentful. “That is not my intention,” she said. “But I cannot leave my daughter behind and I must go on this quest with you. Therefore, she must go with me. If you had a child of your own, you would understand.”

  He took it as a low blow. With a lingering gaze on the woman, he moved away from her and headed out of the stable. She could hear him giving orders to the grooms to have the pony saddled as he went. There was hazard and discouragement in his tone.

  Diamantha didn’t follow him. She had won the battle and that was all she cared about at the moment. So what if the man was bitter and resentful? She hadn’t wanted to marry him, anyway. What did she care what he thought? If he wanted her, then he was going to have to take everything about her – the good and the bad. The man deserved everything coming to him for being so unfeeling and forcing her into a marriage she did not want.

  Without another thought to de Bretagne, Diamantha remained with her daughter in the stable, waiting as the grooms prepared the pony before lifting her daughter onto the animal’s back. The tiny saddle had a strap that went around Sophie’s waist to keep her from falling out, and she secured the little strap and led the pony from the stable.

  Outside, the fog had lifted and patches of blue sky could be seen overhead. Cortez had his army gathered down by the main gatehouse, waiting for her, and as her own palfrey was brought around, Merlin broke off from the army and made his way towards her. She glanced up at the red-haired sergeant as he came alongside, reaching down to take the pony’s reins.

  “My lady,” he greeted. “Sir Cortez has asked me to ride with you from Corfe Castle. I am to be your shadow, my lady, and your daughter’s. I hope this is acceptable.”

  Diamantha’s stance against Cortez began to waver. So he was to assign a soldier to escort her, was he? It was indicative of his anger, and perhaps even his regret that he had married her in the first place. Cortez was furious with her and, if she was honest with herself, perhaps it was rightfully so. She was willing to admit that she had been aggressive and cruel. She was also willing to admit that she had been punishing him for forcing her into the marriage, but the fact remained that she had what she wanted out of the situation. In fact, she had everything she wanted and Cortez, other than marrying her, had virtually nothing. He had made all of the concessions and she had done nothing but bully the man.

  With a sigh, coming to think that she had behaved badly, she gathered her reins and nodded at Merlin.

  “It is acceptable,” she said. “Have my satchels been secured somewhere?”

  Merlin nodded. “Your maids brought them down to the provisions wagon.”

  “Good,” Diamantha said. “In that case, we are ready to depart.”

  Merlin simply nodded as he spurred his horse back towards the cluster of troops, pulling Sophie and General along with him. Diamantha followed, her gaze moving over Corfe for the last time. Her beloved Corfe. There was a lump in her throat at the thought of leaving, but she comforted herself with the fact that she was heading out on a mission of great importance. It was utterly vital to locate Robert’s body and bring the man home. It was all she was concerned with. Now, the great questing had begun.

  Her life was about to change forever.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Sherborne Castle

  Dorset

  Diamantha’s first glimpse of Sherborne Castle was through sheets of driving rain. Coming over the hill on the road leading in from the south, she could see the mighty castle of the Bishop of Salisbury in the distance li
ke a great gray sentinel planted in the middle of the green Dorset countryside. It was shaped rather like a crown, she thought, with soaring walls and towers, and an enormous gatehouse at the front. But the rain pounded and the thunder rolled, distracting her from the impressive sight as she was eager to be under a dry roof.

  Everyone else in the party was eager, too. After leaving Corfe Castle, which was only a day’s ride under good circumstances, Sophie grew weary of riding General about an hour into the journey and Merlin had brought her to her mother. Snuggled under her mother’s warm cloak, Sophie had slept most of the trip away and when she did awaken, it was to pop her head out from underneath the cloak and point at the scenery.

  The little girl saw rabbits and deer, and it thrilled her tremendously. She even tried to talk Merlin into going off and catching a baby bunny, but Merlin was very regretful that he could not break rank to do so. Sophie wasn’t entirely disappointed and found other things to corner her interest. Mostly, she found Merlin to corner her interest and it was a running conversation between a very talkative little girl and a rather quiet sergeant. It had been rather sweet to watch, leaving smiles on the faces of those within earshot.

  In truth, it had been a pleasant trip once the fog lifted and the sun came out. The rolling hills of Dorset were green and lush, and the smell of foliage was heavy in the air. Diamantha and Sophie were midway in the group, well protected by de Bretagne’s men, while Cortez rode up at the front of the column with two of his knights. He hadn’t said anything to Diamantha since leaving Corfe, and the journey in general was rather quiet except for Sophie and her chatter with Merlin.

  Diamantha could see him, however, up at the front on his big black and white charger with the hairy legs. He was hard to miss, being as big as he was, and he rode without his helm. She could see his black head clearly. With him in her line of sight a good deal of the time, she had spent the entire trip north pondering their acquaintance since the moment he had appeared in George’s solar and told her of her destiny. It had been rough, no doubt, and she couldn’t help but compare it to her courtship with Robert, which had been very sweet and pleasant. Robert had been a very amiable man and Cortez was not. He was arrogant and aggressive, and she didn’t like it one bit. She wondered what hell she was in for with this marriage. If she had any courage, she’d take her daughter and run off to the nearest convent right now and be done with it.

  As she contemplated life in a nunnery versus life as the wife of Cortez de Bretagne, the sky had clouded over and very quickly a storm set upon them. The road, well-traveled and rather rocky, had soon become a muddy swamp of dark brown soup. Diamantha’s palfrey was a durable creature and plodded through it without much fuss, but the men on foot were having an increasingly difficult time. More than once they’d had to push the provisions wagon out of the heavy ruts. By the time they reached the crest of the hill overlooking Sherborne, everyone in the party, with the exception of Sophie, was a fairly soggy mess.

  Once de Bretagne’s castle was in sight, they made haste for it. Sherborne Castle, much like Corfe Castle, covered a lot of ground, and the ground Sherborne sat atop of was flat. As they drew closer, Diamantha could see the towering gatehouse, three stories tall, and enormous curtain walls with a massive ditch below them. As big as Corfe Castle was, and it was enormously big, Sherborne could compete with it on that scale. The soaring walls had to be twenty feet high and the depth of the very large moat was unfathomable. It was filled with muck and rot, and as the party passed over the drawbridge and into the great yawning gatehouse, Diamantha tried not to look at the moat. She was positive it would make her ill.

  Once inside the gatehouse, the passageway was surprisingly narrow until it spilled them out into a massive bailey beyond. In the center of the bailey was a complex of buildings, not unlike the complex of buildings at Corfe, only these seemed tightly clustered together by comparison. A four-storied, gray-stoned keep was part of the complex. As the rain poured and the thunder rolled, men ran out to greet the incoming party, taking the horses away and moving the provisions wagon off to the south where the stables were stationed. As Diamantha sat on top of her palfrey, looking rather lost as efficient chaos went on around her, a very tall and very blond young knight was suddenly at her side.

  “Lady de Bretagne?” he greeted though the pouring rain. “My name is James. I am to take you out of this weather.”

  Diamantha was wet and exhausted. As Merlin rushed up to help, she opened her cloak and allowed her daughter to slide down into Merlin’s waiting arms. The young knight reached up and politely lifted her from the palfrey, swiftly escorting her towards what seemed to be the keep of Sherborne. It was four stories, rather big and block-like, and there was a massive oak and iron door that opened up to the bailey. It was now open, waiting for them to enter.

  As James escorted her through the door, she noticed that the walls were very thick because the door itself had a small portcullis, partially raised. The door opened up into a corridor of sorts. There was a darkened passageway to the right and stairs leading up to the left. He took her up the steps with Merlin and Sophie following. The keep was cold and dark, and Diamantha kept turning around to glance at her daughter as Merlin carried her up the stairs. Sophie’s eyes were wide at the new, scary place and this time, it was Merlin keeping up the patter of small talk. In truth, he was very gentle with Sophie, which pleased Diamantha greatly.

  The stairs opened up into a first floor chamber, a rather large room with a massive fireplace that servants were tending. Smoke billowed out into the room, rising to the ceiling, which had a round, wheel-like chandelier that was lit with several fat tallow tapers. A rope connected the chandelier to a nearby wall for easy lowering and lifting in order to light the tapers. There was a table in the middle of the chamber, near the hearth, and as Diamantha approached, she could see that there was food upon it.

  There were many servants rushing about. As James moved to help her remove her cloak, a round female servant with a tight kerchief around her head hustled up and collected it.

  “I’ll go shake this out, m’lady,” the woman told her. “Sit by the fire and dry out. The poppet, too.”

  Diamantha turned to acknowledge the woman, seeing that she was helping Sophie remove her little woolen cloak. Sophie was still in Merlin’s arms and seemed disinclined to let go of the man at the moment. The expression on her face told Diamantha that her daughter was sufficiently intimidated by their new surroundings. She held her arms out to the little girl.

  “Thank you, sergeant,” she said softly. “I will take her now.”

  Merlin handed the little girl over, who immediately clung to her mother as Diamantha moved over by the fire. More servants rushed up to put a stool next to the fire for her to sit on, which she accepted gratefully. Sophie wasn’t wet, but Diamantha was; she held out a wet, freezing hand to the warmth of the blaze, relishing the heat it delivered. As she dried out her wet flesh, she noticed that James and Merlin were still standing over by the table, more than likely on Cortez’s order not to leave her. They were watching her with both curiosity and uncertainty. Diamantha looked around the chamber which seemed to run from one side of the keep to the other.

  “Is this your feasting hall?” she asked, simply to break the ice.

  James shook his head. “Nay, Lady de Bretagne,” he replied in his deep, smooth voice. “This is a secondary hall. It is mostly where we eat. The great hall is only used when the bishop is in residence or when Cortez is conducting court.”

  Diamantha had flinched at the sound of her new title, fighting down the sorrow it provoked. She knew she had to get used to it and even though she understood very well that she had married the man, still, a greater part of her didn’t want to hear the confirmation. She wasn’t ready to, not yet. But rather than dwell on it at the moment, as it could not be helped, something the knight said caught her attention. She turned to look at him.

  “Court?” she repeated. “What does he do?”

  Ja
mes came around the table so she wouldn’t have to crane her neck. There was a hint of a grin on his face. “It is rather complicated, but it goes something like this,” he said. “Sherborne Castle belongs to the Bishop of Salisbury, who is Simon of Ghent. The man is also the Chancellor of the University of Oxford and the Archdeacon of Oxford, and spends most of his time there. Being that he is allied with our king, he has allowed Edward to station Cortez here as a garrison commander. We are stocked with a mixture of the bishop’s men and crown troops. In the bishop’s absence, Cortez is also the law for both the king and the church. He hears cases every month and dispenses justice.”

  Diamantha hadn’t known that. It was rather impressive if she thought about it. “What is Cortez to Edward, then? Has he been granted special powers by the king?”

  James nodded. “He is acting Sheriff of the Shire, my lady,” the knight replied. “In reward for his exemplary service at Falkirk, Edward has bestowed much wealth and power on Sir Cortez.”

  Diamantha’s interested expression faded. Exemplary service at Falkirk, she thought bitterly. He left my husband to die at Falkirk. It wasn’t exactly the truth and she knew it, but it didn’t stop her resentful thoughts. Not wanting to speak her mind, however, because such a thing could only cause confusion and bitterness, she shifted the subject.

  “And you, Sir James?” she glanced at him as she began to untie the little cap from Sophie’s head. “Where are you from?”

  James was very polite and professional in his answer. “I was born at Lioncross Abbey on the Welsh Marches,” he replied. “I have been in the service of Sir Cortez for two years come September.”

  Diamantha looked at him curiously. “Lioncross Abbey?” she repeated. “The seat of the House of de Lohr?”

  James nodded. “Aye,” he said. “My name is de Lohr.”

  Diamantha smiled faintly. “My grandmother was a daughter of the great Christopher de Lohr,” she said. “How are you related to him?”