Border Brides

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “Enough!” he shouted, startling his father. “Great Bleeding Jesus, do you have any idea how foolish you sound? You are living in the past, old man. You are living the horrors that your family has already lived. When does it stop? Tell me that, Father – when does all of this horror and hatred stop?”

  Gorsedd looked at Andres with a mixture of hurt and anger. “Your great-grandfather was impaled on a stake, alive, and….”

  “I know!” Andres roared, putting his hands on his head in anguish. “I know he was impaled alive. That is all I have heard for days and days. But he is dead. The man who did that to him is dead. And you have had the gall to blame a woman who never knew her ancestor and who has probably never done a terrible thing in her life? That makes you a beast, do you hear? You are a foolish old beast living in the past and you do not care who you hurt with old hatreds. When are you doing to stop this? Don’t you realize what it is doing to you? Or me or Cortez?”

  Gorsedd wasn’t used to Andres yelling back at him. The man had sat and listened to him rant for days and hardly said a word about it other than pleading for calm. Now, Andres’ irritation was unleashed and Gorsedd was offended by it.

  “Your family is everything,” he pointed out angrily. “We have an obligation….”

  “The family you speak of is dead!” Andres yelled, interrupting him. “Everyone you are speaking of is dead and no amount of talk can bring them back. But your family is alive. Your boys are alive. Cortez and I are your family and all you have done is hurt Cortez by blaming his wife for something she had no control over. Is that what you want? To hurt Cortez? The man adores you, Father. See what damage you have done to him with your hate-mongering. What do you think Mother would have said to that?”

  Andres’ words gave Gorsedd pause. He fell back to regroup, trying not to think on Allegria de Bretagne’s reaction to his behavior but he couldn’t quite ignore it. Even in death, Allegria was a very strong personality and he could just hear her yelling at him in Spanish, and then in a language he could understand when he would plead with her. He could hear her yelling even now. Nay, she would not have been pleased with his behavior at all. She adored Cortez, her eldest son, and had been fiercely protective over him.

  “You’ll not bring your mother’s memory into this,” he said to Andres.

  But Andres would not be stopped. “I can and I will,” he said. “You know that what you did was wrong. You hurt Cortez and you hurt his wife. If Mother were alive, she would make you beg forgiveness. Well? What are you going to do about it?”

  Gorsedd looked away, he had to. He could no longer face Andres because the man was correct, he was absolutely correct.

  “Your mother is not here, so your question has no meaning,” he grumbled.

  Andres pulled something out of his tunic and slapped it down onto the table next to Gorsedd. When the man looked over, he saw the pieces of the silver collar he had torn from Diamantha’s neck, the collar that had once belonged to Allegria. The woman had worn the necklace constantly, as much a part of her as anything else was. The sight of the collar had Gorsedd slipping into deep uncertainty.

  “Mother is here now,” Andres said, pointing to the collar. “Look at this and tell her why you hurt Cortez and his wife. Let her tell you what a fool you have been.”

  With that, Andres quit the cell, locking it before heading up the stairs to the ground level above. Gorsedd sat long after his son had gone, gazing at the pieces of the silver collar, seeing it around the neck of his wife and hearing her words in his head. That necklace embodied all that Allegria de Bretagne had been; strong, shiny, and beautiful. She was the love of his life, much as Cortez and Andres were. Family was everything. His family. Perhaps it was time to let the past die, after all.

  Collecting the pieces of the collar, he held them to his chest and wept.

  *

  Penrith

  It was like old times that evening at The Bloody Cross, minus Andres, whose presence was sorely missed. Cortez sat with James, Oliver, and Drake at a table that was wedged up against the front of the tavern, near the front door, and angled so that they could see everyone coming in through the front door before those entrants saw them. After having food and copious amounts of hot water sent up to Diamantha, Cortez sat in the common room with his men and enjoyed the meal and conversation.

  The room was even more packed now than it had been when he’d arrived, full of travelers, merchants, whores, a few soldiers that belonged to him, and other soldiers that did not. He thought he saw a few men bearing colors he recognized, the colors of Baron Coverdale who controlled a good deal of land in the area, but he couldn’t really tell and he didn’t want to stare because staring was often taken as a challenge. So he listened to Drake tell stories about his wild brothers, laughing appropriately when Drake’s humor harangued out of control. He knew for a fact that Drake was the wild brother although the man managed to hide it well.

  “Will Andres be joining us at some point, Cortez?”

  It was a question from James. In private, Cortez permitted his knights to address him by his given name because that was the level of trust they had between them. These men were as close to him as Andres ever was, men who had been with him through both good and bad times. He took a long drink from his cup of wine that was heavy and tart, and smacked his lips.

  “Hopefully,” he said. He eyed his men a moment before continuing. “I have not spoken to you about my father’s behavior since it all happened. I suppose I can tell you that I do not know much more about it than you do. You heard what my father said and even when I tried to speak with him afterwards, he still adhered to those views. Andres remained behind at Coven Castle not to be my father’s jailer but to be his caretaker. According to my father’s majordomo, it would seem my father’s mind has been failing him as of late, which possibly explains his behavior. In any case, Andres is there to see for himself. It is his intention to catch up to us in a week or two, but I suppose time will tell.”

  The knights digested the information. It was Drake who finally spoke. “I knew Rob Edlington for years and I never heard that Lady de Bretagne was related to Jax de Velt,” he said what they were all thinking. “A fearsome and dark heritage she bears.”

  Cortez nodded. “One hundred years later, one would hope that people have forgotten about his atrocities but evidently that is not the case,” he said. “Seeing how my father reacted, that is more than likely knowledge we should not speak of outside of this circle.”

  The knights agreed, sipping their wine in silence, until James suddenly snorted into his cup. The other three looked at him curiously.

  “What do you find humorous about that?” Cortez asked.

  James shook his blond head. “It is not the fact that she is related to de Velt that I find funny,” he said. “I was thinking of my great-grandfather, Christopher de Lohr, and how the man must have bargained with de Velt for the marriage contract. Can you imagine being in the room when England’s two greatest warlords face off on the subject of their children? A marriage, no less? By God’s Bloody Rood! Oh, but to have listened in on that conversation!”

  Cortez’s lips twitched. “De Lohr must have faced the man in full armor, even for a contract negotiation,” he said. “I cannot imagine I would have sat in a room with de Velt and not have had every bloody weapon I owned strapped to my body.”

  The knights snickered. “I would have done it from the other side of a closed portcullis,” Oliver muttered. “It is common knowledge that my parents came from two families that hated each other for generations, and their marriage was shocking enough. But marrying into the House of de Velt… I cannot imagine what de Lohr was thinking.”

  “Mayhap their children were in love,” Drake said. “Wasn’t it his daughter who married de Velt’s son?” When Cortez nodded, Drake continued. “Then that settles it. The man probably had no choice. How could he deny his daughter if she loved a de Velt offspring?”

  “Easily,” James said. “He coul
d have sent the woman to a convent or beat the foolish notion out of her. One way or the other, marrying into the House of de Velt, especially back in their generation, must have been an appalling prospect.”

  No one could disagree. As Cortez opened his mouth to continue, the front door to the tavern opened and two very large, very well armed knights entered. In fact, they were knights of the highest order, bearing Coverdale tunics and weighed down with a myriad of war implements. One was very tall and one was very broad about the shoulders. They looked rather out of place in the filth and levity of the tavern, with people eating and laughing around them. They looked like they were about to step onto a battlefield. The pair stood by the door as they evidently scouted out a place to sit.

  Cortez and his knights noticed the duo right away. Cortez’s gaze lingered on them for a moment until, suddenly, a light of recognition came to his eye. He appeared rather surprised. Abruptly, he stood up and made his way over to the knights. Back at his table, Drake, James, and Oliver stood up, hands on the hilt of their swords. If there was going to be trouble, then they would be ready.

  But trouble wasn’t what Cortez intended. Standing a few feet away from the pair, he spoke rather loudly.

  “Who let you two into this town?” he said, rather menacingly. “There are laws against your kind, you know.”

  The knights whirled around, features full of suspicion, but when they saw Cortez standing there, big smiles became evident. The shorter man even laughed aloud, a happy sort of crow. They rushed the man, grabbing Cortez’s outstretched hand in greeting.

  “De Bretagne!” Keir St. Héver, the shortest of the pair, gasped. “God’s Teeth, is it really you? I can hardly believe my eyes!”

  Cortez was so happy to see his old friend that he embraced him. Next to St. Héver, Michael of Pembury, an enormous mountain of a man, clapped Cortez on the shoulder so hard that he nearly knocked him over.

  “As gentle and tender as always, Pembury,” Cortez grunted, eyeing the man with the bright blue eyes. “I thought it was you two when you entered because no one is as ugly as St. Héver and no one is as tall as Pembury. What are you doing here?”

  Keir was still grinning like a fool, very happy to see the man he had fostered with many years ago. A very handsome man in spite of Cortez’s comment, and very blond, Keir had been Cortez’s closest friend, once, until time and separation had cooled those bonds. But the link was still there, unbreakable as always. The last time he had seen him had been at Helene’s funeral. He continued to hold on to Cortez’s hand as he spoke.

  “We are on business for Coverdale,” he told him. “I have two hundred men camping on the outskirts of town but I wanted a roof over my head tonight. I see that this place is crowded, unfortunately. Where are you staying?”

  Cortez was leading them back over to his table. “Here,” he said. “I have all four rooms but you and Pembury can surely have one. My knights can double up.”

  Keir was grateful. “My thanks, my friend,” he said. “You have saved me a good deal of effort.”

  They reached the table as Drake stole two chairs from another table and pulled them up for Keir and Michael. Keir thanked the man, acknowledging the others around the table.

  “So you still travel with this motley crew, do you?” he teased. “De Winter, St. John, and de Lohr. Christ, Cortez, haven’t you learned to keep better company?”

  Cortez grinned as everyone sat down and more cups for wine were produced. “Evidently not,” he said, eyeing St. Héver as the man poured himself a healthy measure of wine. “I kept company with you, didn’t I?”

  Everyone snorted at St. Héver’s expense, but Keir didn’t mind in the least. He clapped Cortez on the back.

  “Tell me what you are doing in Penrith, Cortez,” he said. “Will you have time to come to Pendragon Castle and meet my wife? I would like you to.”

  Cortez’s eyes glimmered warmly. “You have taken a wife?” he asked with satisfaction. “I am thrilled to hear that, my friend, truly.”

  He didn’t touch on the reasons why he was thrilled, the dark reasons that all men in this tight circle knew. Keir’s first wife and two children had been murdered in a siege a few years ago and the man had been emotionally destroyed as a result. Upon hearing of the tragedy, Helene had encouraged Cortez to travel north to comfort the man, to Pendragon Castle where Keir was the garrison commander for Baron Coverdale, which he had. He had stayed for two months, watching St. Héver slowly die inside. It had been terrible to watch. Now, to hear that he had married again was something of a massive relief.

  Keir wasn’t totally oblivious to what Cortez was thinking. He sighed happily, gazing upon his friend with more joy than Cortez had ever seen in him.

  “I married a couple of years ago,” he told him. “I have a son who is a little over a year old and my wife is expecting again. Chloe is a remarkable woman, Cortez. I should like you to meet her.”

  Cortez nodded, truly delighted for his friend. “As I would like to meet her also,” he replied. “But not this trip. I am traveling with my wife and we are simply passing through Penrith on our journey north.”

  Keir’s smile faded and he took on a rather startled expression. In fact, he glanced at Pembury to see that the man mirrored his surprise.

  “Your wife?” Keir repeated. “You have married again?”

  Cortez nodded, seeing the stunned look in Keir’s eyes. He reached out and gave the man’s arm a squeeze.

  “You and I both suffered great losses, my friend,” he said quietly. “You lost your wife and I lost Helene. But, like you, I have married again and I could not be happier. She is with me, in fact. She is upstairs with her daughter as we speak.”

  Keir’s eyebrows lifted. “You are traveling with a child?”

  Cortez nodded and poured himself more wine. “Let me explain, since I see that I have only succeeded in confusing you with my ramblings,” he grinned. “You remember Rob Edlington, of course.”

  Keir nodded. “Of course,” he said. “Rob fought with us at Falkirk. He also fell there. We lost many good men that day.”

  Cortez continued. “I never told anyone this because there was really no need, but I was with Rob when he was injured,” he said, lowering his voice. “Edlington knew he was dying and asked me to take care of his wife. I fulfilled his wish. I married Edlington’s widow. But you also recall that we were unable to recover Edlington’s body. This is something that has haunted his wife so she asked me to return to Falkirk to bring Edlington back for a proper burial. Because it means so much to her, I have complied. We are therefore on a great quest to find Rob Edlington and bring him back to Corfe Castle so he can be properly buried. That is why I cannot take the time to go out of our way to meet your wife. It would throw us off our time schedule and it is my hope to find Edlington’s body before winter sets in. If it does before we can get to it, we will have to wait for the spring thaw and I do not wish to remain in Scotland that long. Time is of the essence.”

  It was quite an amazing story, as evidenced by St. Héver and Pembury’s expressions. The two Coverdale knights looked at each other, perhaps in disbelief, before returning their attention to Cortez.

  “You are going to find his corpse?” Keir repeated. Then, he shook his head. “Cortez, you know as well as I do that it will be an impossible task. We lost many men under the mud of that field. It was horrible stuff. How in God’s name do you expect to locate Edlington’s corpse?”

  Cortez tried not to become defensive at the question. “I was the last person to see Edlington,” he said. “I know where I left him. We have brought shovels with us and we will dig test holes in the area until we find something.”

  Keir wasn’t trying to be critical, or talk him out of it, but it was truly an outlandish quest. “It will be very difficult,” he said. “What if you do not find him?”

  Cortez shrugged, toying with his wine cup. “My wife is aware that we may not,” he said, then looked at Keir again. The black eyes were serious and
sad at the same time. “It means so much to her. I cannot let her suffer this angst without doing something about it. Besides, if I had dragged Edlington’s body out of the battlefield, we would not be on this quest in the first place. She would have had something to bury and all would be well. So, you see, it is my fault that we are here in the first place.”

  Keir studied him a moment. “You are blaming yourself for something that could not be helped at the time.”

  Cortez lifted his big shoulders in a vague gesture. “Mayhap,” he said. “But I intend to rectify it. So now you know why we are here.”

  Keir glanced at the knights around the table, knights that were loyal to Cortez no matter what. All the while, his mind was mulling over what he’d been told. He glanced at Pembury to see if he could discern the man’s thoughts but he could not. Taking a deep drink of his wine, he smacked his lips.

  “How many men have you brought with you?” he asked.

  Cortez threw a thumb in the direction of the street outside, the last place he had seen most of his men. “Twenty-five foot soldiers and five knights,” he said. “I did not want to bring too many men because that often attracts trouble, so I brought a small party. So far, it has worked out well.”

  “Five knights?” Keir looked around, only counting four. “Where is the fifth?”

  “I left Andres at Coven Castle with my father when we stopped there a few days ago.”

  Keir’s grin was back. “I have missed Andres,” he said. “I am deeply saddened that he is not here. I owe that man a slug to the jaw, you know. The last time I saw him, he got me involved in a terrible tavern fight. He was dead-drunk and refused to pay his bill, and the tavern keeper’s son did not take too kindly to that. I think we fairly destroyed the place when it was all said and done.”