Border Brides

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “Andres,” Cortez said, trying to distract his brother from his lecherous behavior. “Speak to the quartermaster before we leave and make sure we are well supplied. It has been four days since we last restocked and I heard today that we somehow lost a bag of apples. Puzzling. In any case, check with the quartermaster to make sure we haven’t lost anything else. I do not want to set out tomorrow only half-supplied.”

  Diamantha heard his comment about the apples, keeping her head down as she fed Sophie some of the fish. She wasn’t going to confess about tossing the apples to the starving peasants but she somehow suspected that he already knew. He was being tactful by not calling her out for it. Still, she thought it best to change the subject. She didn’t want it known that she had openly disobeyed her husband.

  “Sir Gorsedd,” she said, turning to Cortez’s father. “Cortez tells me that your heritage is Welsh and English. Do you have much interaction with your Welsh kin, living close to the Marches as you do?”

  Gorsedd was sucking on a pork bone. “Not too much,” he said, chewing. “My mother’s family was part of the ap Gruffydd clan, you know. Did Cortez tell you that? At one time, the king thought he could use that to his advantage but my mother’s family is fairly destitute now. Once, they were very powerful, but the tides of fortune have not been kind.”

  Diamantha was listening with interest. “I am indeed sorry to hear that,” she said. “I know that Edward has been quite active in Wales. It is all but conquered now.”

  Gorsedd nodded his head, perhaps thinking on the proud Welsh heritage that was now subjugated to an English king. “That is true,” he replied. “But it cannot be helped, I suppose. The Welsh cannot rule Wales. All they do is fight, anyway, so mayhap Edward believes he can unite the country. He certainly cannot do any worse than generations of Welsh princes have done.”

  Diamantha watched the man carefully. “As a man who is part Welsh, I find your view somewhat surprising,” she said. “Most Welshman I have heard of are fiercely patriotic of Welsh rule in Wales.”

  Gorsedd shrugged as he began to suck on another pork bone. “The only thing I am patriotic about is my family in general,” he said. “Welsh or English, which puts me in an odd position at times. Still, I would give up my life for either side. My grandfather, in fact, did. He was killed in Wales defending his home many years ago. But enough about me, my lady. Tell me of your family, for I am eager to know.”

  Diamantha opened her mouth to speak but Sophie, finished with her fish, squirmed to get off her lap. Diamantha held her tightly.

  “Nay, sweetheart,” she said. “You cannot get down. Stay with me.”

  “She may wander the hall, my lady,” Gorsedd said encouragingly. “The dogs in here will not hurt her. In fact, there is a litter of pups over near the hearth. See the pillar to the left of the fire? They are behind it.”

  “I will take her,” Cortez said, wiping his mouth and standing. He held out a hand to the little girl. “Come along, my lady. Would you like to see puppies?”

  Sophie nearly launched herself out of her mother’s lap, thrilled at the prospect of baby dogs. Diamantha looked at Cortez with some hesitation in her expression.

  “Are you sure?” she asked. “Surely you would like to stay here and speak with your father.”

  Cortez smiled, already being dragged away by Sophie. “I will return,” he assured her. “You and my father become better acquainted.”

  Diamantha watched him go, with Sophie towing him along. She seemed to like to do that with him, leading around this big man who was sworn to do her bidding. It was rather sweet to watch, and it endeared her to Cortez that much more. If she didn’t know better, she would swear the man was well on his way to stealing her heart. It was a surprising but not unpleasant prospect. Given their rough beginning, she wouldn’t have believed that to have been possible.

  “Do not bring a puppy back,” she told Cortez. “Not even when she begs. Do you hear me?”

  He was several feet away but waved an acknowledging hand. “I hear you.”

  “Promise me?”

  He didn’t respond and she didn’t really expect him to. If Sophie asked for the moon, he would grant it if it was in his power. She was coming to realize that about him. With a smile on her lips and a shake of the head at the adorable picture of Sophie dragging Cortez along behind her, she turned back to Gorsedd.

  “My family is rooted in England,” she said. “My father serves at Norham Castle in Northumberland. He is still alive and in good health. On my mother’s side, it is a bit more interesting. My maternal great-grandfather was Christopher de Lohr, who was King Richard’s champion. Cortez’s knight, James de Lohr, is also a descendent of the man once known as the Defender of the Realm.”

  The light of recognition went on in Gorsedd’s eyes. “Truly?” he asked, looking across the table at James when Diamantha pointed at him. But his attention quickly returned to her. “De Lohr, you say? ’Tis a proud family, my lady. Most impressive.”

  Diamantha was warming to the conversation. “Thank you,” she said. “My maternal grandfather was the son of another great warlord, although he did not have the pristine reputation that de Lohr had. My grandfather was the son of Ajax de Velt. Have you heard of him? He had a heavy presence in the north and also along the Welsh Marches for a time. His method was conquest and he accumulated quite a few castles in his younger years.”

  Something in Gorsedd’s expression changed at that moment, as if a curtain was lowered, from top to bottom. The change started at Gorsedd’s forehead and worked its way down his face. First, his brow furrowed, then, his eyes widened to astonishing proportions. Further down, his cheeks flushed a violent shade of red and his mouth began to work but no sound came forth. It worked and worked, and spittle began to form around his lips. As Diamantha looked at him with concern, she wondered if the man was having a spell. Gorsedd suddenly leapt to his feet and his chair toppled over.

  “De Velt!” he roared. “Are you telling me that you sprang from that bastard’s loins?”

  Diamantha was taken aback at the tone, suddenly very uncertain of Gorsedd’s behavior. “He was my grandfather’s father,” she said steadily. “My lord, if there is….”

  Gorsedd cut her off by bellowing in her face as loud as he could. “Silence!” he screamed. “I never thought I would see the day when de Velt blood sullied the House of de Bretagne, but now you are here and de Velt’s vile deeds have infiltrated those closest to me!”

  Diamantha was seriously considering moving away from the man. She was hoping Cortez could hear what was going on and come to save her from whatever rage his father was suffering from.

  “My lord, truly,” she said, trying to remain calm, “I never knew my great-grandfather and although I know he committed terrible crimes, he….”

  Gorsedd wouldn’t hear her. He began shouting over her. “And now you pollute the memory of my wife by wearing her collar?” he pointed at her, suddenly fixed on the great necklace on her chest. “You are unfit and unworthy, de Velt spawn!”

  Reaching out, he yanked the beautiful silver collar right off her neck, sending pieces of it flying in all directions. Terrified, Diamantha jumped out of her seat and scurried away from the man while across the table, James and Drake and Oliver were on their feet, moving to protect the lady from Gorsedd’s wild demeanor. Even Andres, as drunk as he was, was focused on his father with concern and curiosity.

  “Father!” he stood up, weaving dangerously as he leaned forward on the table. “What is the matter with you? Why are you…?”

  Gorsedd stumbled away from the table, putting his hands up as if to block out the horrors rolling through his mind.

  “That!” he screamed, pointing at Diamantha, who was now standing behind James and Drake. “That… that whore, that vile creature of de Velt blood, has bewitched your brother! Do you know what her great-grandsire did? He killed my grandfather! He put the man on a pole, driven up through his arse until it came out of his shoulder, and le
ft him to die on a pike in the middle of the bailey of the castle where he was born! De Velt left the man to die a horrific death, squirming on the end of a pole as ravens plucked his eyeballs out! The blood that runs through her veins is the same blood that killed my grandfather!”

  By now, the entire room was deadly silent except for Gorsedd’s shouting. Cortez, who had been over by the hearth with Sophie, picked the little girl up and made haste back to the table in time to hear his father spout his terrible venom at Diamantha. Immediately, he handed the child over to Oliver.

  “Get her out of here,” he hissed. “Find Merlin and tell him to tend her. You will come back once you have delivered her to safety.”

  Oliver took the little girl, who was asking to see the puppies again. He fled the hall with the child in his arms as Cortez went to stand between his wife and father. All the while, the legendary de Bretagne temper was rising, like a cauldron about to boil, and by the time he faced his father, he was purely mad with rage. He simply couldn’t believe all of the slander he was hearing, from his own father no less, shocking and uncalled for. It was difficult to remain in control.

  “I could forgive you if you were drunk or insane, but you are neither,” he growled. “You have insulted my wife in the worst possible way, for crimes committed almost one hundred years ago that she had nothing to do with. Have you lost your damn mind? What reasonable man would blame someone for the crimes of their ancestors?”

  Gorsedd was enraged beyond control. He pointed a finger at Diamantha as she cowered behind Drake. “Look at her eyes,” he hissed. “You can see that she has his eyes. She has his devil eyes. Everyone knew of de Velt’s two-colored eyes, eyes through which Satan worked. And now you bring this… this horror into my home? She must be purged and you must be cleansed!”

  Cortez snapped. He charged forward and grabbed his father around the neck. Andres, seeing the confrontation turning physical, leapt over the table and grabbed Cortez just as James ran forward to help pull the two men apart. But Cortez would not be deterred. He had his father tightly around the neck, squeezing as the man’s face turned purple.

  “Did you just threaten her, old man?” Cortez seethed. “Did I hear you threaten her life?”

  Andres was struggling to no avail to pry Cortez off their father. “Cortez, stop!” he cried. “You will kill him!”

  Cortez was in a haze of fury. “Answer me!” he roared at his father. “Did you just threaten her life?”

  Gorsedd was starting to lose consciousness. “Her… family has committed heinous crimes against ours,” he grunted, struggling to breathe. “How can you defend her?”

  “Because she did not do anything!” Cortez bellowed. “She is innocent!”

  Gorsedd was starting to fight back as his field of vision began to go black. “Get… get her out of my sight!” he yelled, trying to kick his powerful son. “Get her out of my sight or I will kill her! I will avenge my grandfather with her blood!”

  Cortez squeezed so tightly that his father passed out but he was prevented from killing the man by James and Andres. Andres threw his arms around his brother and pulled him back, away from Gorsedd, who was lying limp on the floor.

  “Nay, Cortez, nay!” Andres pleaded. “Come with me now. Let us leave tonight. We will get far away from here.”

  Cortez was blinded by rage, fighting his brother even as the man struggled to stop him. He was about to punch his brother squarely in the face but a soft, white hand on his arm stopped him. It was a gentle touch, but it did what no man could do. It instantly stopped his forward momentum. Diamantha pushed herself in between Cortez and Andres, a soft bit of ethereal love and hope where moments before, all that had existed in that space had been rage.

  “Please,” she begged, tears in her eyes. “Please do not fight any more. Just take me away of here.”

  Cortez wanted to fight. He wanted to fight in the worst way. Diamantha’s life had been threatened, her heritage sullied, and all he wanted to do was destroy those who would hurt her, even his own father. He couldn’t even describe the fury in his heart at the moment. All he knew was that he was mad enough to kill.

  But that wouldn’t solve the issue. It would make him guilty of patricide, and as he struggled to calm himself, he realized that he was not prepared to enter those heady waters. Something like that would damage him for the rest of his life and quite possibly damage his relationship with Diamantha. Who’s to say that, at some point, he wouldn’t blame her for his actions? Therefore, he took a deep breath and labored to ease his rage.

  He looked at Andres. The man looked terrified. Drunk, but terrified. Then he looked at James and Drake, both of them poised to kill on his command. He knew they would, too, even if the command was to kill Gorsedd. Then, he looked at Diamantha. She was weeping and struggling not to. She was absolutely terrified. Taking a deep, calming breath, he put a hand on the back of her head and pulled her forehead to his lips for a sweet kiss.

  “Andres,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Take our father to the vault and lock him up for the night. It would be much easier to do that than pack up our entire party and flee into the dead of night. We will leave before dawn and give the servants instructions to release Father from the vault when we are well away.”

  Shaken, Andres nodded unsteadily and moved to his father, who was just starting to come around. He motioned to James, who helped Andres pick the man up and drag him out of the hall. Cortez waited until he was gone before turning back to the room full of men who were standing about uneasily. Taking his wife by the arm, he turned her back to the table.

  “Now,” he said with forced calm. “We can finish our meal in peace. Did Sophie get much to eat? I could not tell. Mayhap we should bring something to her.”

  Diamantha was choking back tears. “Where is my daughter?” she asked tightly. “Where did you take her?”

  He shushed her gently. “Merlin has instructions to keep her safe,” he assured her. “You know he will. The man will protect her with his life.”

  Diamantha broke into soft sobs. “I want my baby,” she said. “I want to leave.”

  Cortez could see that the evening was ruined. Gathering her up, he told Drake to remain behind to make sure the men were adequately fed and that no one got too drunk so they would be ready to depart on time in the morning. He also told Drake to keep an eye on his father in the vault because he honestly couldn’t trust that Andres wouldn’t feel sorry for the man and release him.

  Drake wanted to follow them, to take up a sentry position outside of the master chamber door for Diamantha’s sake, but Cortez called him off. With Gorsedd in the vault, providing he remained there, such protection would not be necessary. Besides, Cortez had his broadsword with him. Just in case.

  Leaving a great feast down in the hall, Cortez escorted his wife up to the chamber at the top of the keep. When they arrived, Diamantha was somewhat calmer, calmer still to see that Merlin had brought Sophie up to the chamber. When they came through the door, the first thing they saw was Merlin seated on the floor with a rabbit in his lap while Sophie, sitting on the floor next to him, held the kittens and the fox. Cortez walked up to his sergeant, shaking his head reproachfully at the man.

  “You make a fine playmate, Merlin,” he said.

  Merlin shrugged, somewhat embarrassed. “She insisted,” he said feebly. “I could not deny her.”

  Cortez pursed his lips wryly as he reached down and picked up the little rabbit, allowing Merlin to stand. As the sergeant bid Diamantha a good evening and left the chamber, Cortez bolted the door behind him. When he turned back around, he noticed the big tub over near the hearth, partially concealed in the shadows of the room, and on the small table there was a pitcher with cups and a platter of food. There also appeared to be a clean bed, mattress and all. They had all they needed for the evening and that helped his emotional state a good deal.

  Already, Diamantha was telling Sophie to put the animals back in their cages so she could bathe the child and prepar
e her for bed. It was clear that she was trying to put the horror of the hall behind her. Cortez, with the little rabbit still clutched against his chest, went over to the cage and handed the rabbit to Diamantha, who put it back in the cage with its mates. He watched Diamantha’s lowered head as she took Sophie over to the tub and began taking her clothes off, finally submerging the child in about eight inches of very warm water. As Sophie splashed about, Diamantha went over to their satchels and began pulling out clean clothing. Cortez followed her.

  “I am sorry,” he whispered, putting his hands on her arms and kissing the top of her dark head. “My father… I would have never imagined him capable of what I witnessed tonight. Had I had any idea he would have reacted that way, I certainly would have taken steps to avoid it.”

  Diamantha sighed faintly as she pulled out a sleeping shift for Sophie. She was pensive, subdued. “It is not the first time someone has reacted negatively to the fact that I bear de Velt bloodlines,” she said nervously. “I know what atrocities the man committed, many people do. But I also know from my grandmother that marriage changed him. He became an excellent father and husband, and actually became quite a benefactor in his later years, mayhap to make up for all of the pain and suffering he had caused. He donated heavily to the church and also donated quite heavily to the university at Oxford. But… he wasn’t perfect, even with all of that benevolence.”

  Cortez cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

  Diamantha’s gaze was on her daughter as the little girl poured water over her head from a small wooden cup that had been floating around in the tub.

  “My great-grandfather conquered many castles,” she said quietly. “He did it just the way your father said. He impaled men on poles and left them to die. He killed women and children. In the end, he kept many of those castles he conquered simply because he had killed all of the families they belonged to. There was no one left, at least no one close enough to assume the properties, so he simply kept and maintained them. He gave them to his children, or to the men who served him. Do you happen to know where your great-grandfather was killed?”