The Reward of Anavrea
Page 3
Entering the yard before the barn, he picked a path through the gathered men and boys to the side of the work leader, Haren. The young man had just finished his directions to one of the boys.
“So, Riker is taking ten and starting on the oat fields in the west.”
“Master Haren.”
Haren looked up.
“I am going to need to return to the vargar today. Urgent business has come up that needs my immediate attention.”
Master Haren nodded his consent. “We have everything under control, my lord.”
“Good.” Liam squeezed the boy’s shoulder before turning to leave.
On his way through the village, he spotted Jaren coming out of one of the hovels. He raised his hand in greeting and Jaren crossed to join him.
“I was trying to decide whether to head down to the fields to fetch you or go to the vargar to make sure everything is secured.” Jaren informed Liam as he approached.
“I assume you found out about the marriage contract between Lord Klian and our new housekeeper?”
Jaren nodded and then glanced over at Liam. “How did you find out?”
“I spoke to Oran on the walk down to the fields. He told me what he understood. I am on my way to ask Jayne for the rest. This isn’t something I can ignore. What have you discovered?”
Jaren frowned. “When Lord Alain died, the news stayed within the vargar’s walls for three days. Jayne managed in that time to close everything and disappear. So, when Klian showed later on the third day, he found the vargar gates locked tight against him, the keys and his betrothed missing. He and his men drilled the villagers, but they could honestly say that they knew nothing.
“After a week of pestering the poor people, Klian left for home. Micas believes the village and vargar were being watched. It was a month before Oran and Urith showed up in the village seeking supplies. I am guessing that the farm was not well stocked. Then Klian came back and pressed all the men of working age into his service. The villagers didn’t really have much choice but to obey.”
They were approaching the vargar’s massive front gates when Liam realized there were more men guarding it than when he had left. The gate stood open. As they approached, Braxton emerged.
“My lord.” He greeted Liam with a formal flare. Behind him followed a tall, fair man in his mid-thirties. His expensive clothing and cold blue eyes made Liam’s chest tighten. Even before Braxton began the introductions, Liam comprehended he had just met Jayne’s adversary. “Lord Klian arrived and wished to speak with you. I was about to send someone to fetch you.”
“What a surprise.” Liam stepped forward to offer his right hand in greeting.
Klian accepted Liam’s hand in a limp clasp before speaking. “I received word of your arrival only yesterday and wished to welcome you. As neighbors, I believe in starting things off on the right foot.”
Liam refrained from pointing out that the sentiment was a little late considering the lack of men in his fields. Instead, he smiled. “I am afraid that you have found us a little unprepared, but I am sure we can offer you something to eat and drink. If you and your men would retire to the great hall, I will join you shortly.”
A brief flash of disappointment passed across Klian’s face before he managed a strained smile of agreement. He followed Liam back through the gates. As they crossed the yard, Liam happily noted that Klian’s men stood awkwardly around doing nothing. Braxton had, in his usual protective fashion, not given them access to the keep or any of the stables.
After a brief exchange of niceties, Liam left Klian and his men lingering in the great hall. Drawing Braxton aside, Liam gave instructions for the doors of the hall to be guarded so that none of the unwanted visitors would be able to wander the keep. Then he started off in search of his new housekeeper. Passing through the kitchen, he encountered the cook who was in a panic over the food and drink. Jayne was up on the second floor. He headed for the stairs and took them two at a time.
Rowana met him at the top with her arms full of bedding.
“Don’t go down there,” he told her. “Klian is here and I don’t want him to see you.” Her dark eyes grew large. “Where is Jayne?” he asked before she could speak. Mutely she pointed down the corridor toward his rooms.
Liam strode to the only open door, the one leading to his bedchamber, and came to an abrupt stop on the doorsill. The floor before him glistened in the morning sunlight. Jayne, on her knees with her sleeves rolled up above her elbow, busily scrubbed the wooden floor.
As she sat back on her heels to oversee the floor she was working on, she flinched violently when she realized she wasn’t alone. Fear crossed her face for a moment and her right hand dropped the wooden-backed scrubbing brush with a clatter.
“I am sorry I startled you, but I need to talk to you right now.” Liam waited as she visibly collected her composure. He dreaded saying the next piece of news, but it had to be said. “Lord Klian has just arrived. I need to understand the relationship between the two of you.”
In spite of the flush from the exertion of scrubbing, Jayne’s features drained of color as she closed her eyes. Her thin face grew ten years older in appearance. For a moment she sat perfectly still.
Liam debated risking her wrath by crossing the damp floor, just to get a reaction from the silent, unmoving figure across the room. He was studying the floorboards for dry spots when she spoke.
“There is none.” Her voice sounded steady, but when he met her eyes, fear lurked behind them.
“Did you sign a marriage contract betrothing you to Lord Klian?”
Despair filled her face. Her hand shook as she pushed a stray curl behind her ear. Taking a deep breath, she said, “Father and Lord Klian signed the contract before witnesses.”
“So, you did not put your mark on the paper?” Liam asked intently.
She shook her head. “Father said he didn’t need my signature to make it legal and binding. As my father, he had the right to marry me off to whomever he wished.”
Hope rose in Liam’s chest. “How old were you when this happened?”
Her chin came up. Liam could see he had touched on a delicate issue with her, but he didn’t have the time to explore it.
“How old were you when your father and Klian signed this contract?”
“Twenty-eight,” she finally admitted.
“Good.” Liam turned to leave.
“Wait!” He turned back to find she had risen to her feet. “Why is it so important what my age was?” she asked.
“I will explain later.” He met her questioning look from across the room. “I promise.” Then he turned and strode quickly for the back stairs. Right now he had to play host to the man who wished to have his title and lands. At least Jayne had just proved to Liam that Klian had no legal claim.
Liam could deal with Klian as bluntly as necessary, especially in light of his theft of village men. By the time he reached the entrance to the hall, he formed a vague idea of how he would proceed.
After opening the heavy oak door, he calmly surveyed the scene before him. Klian’s men lounged about the great table, talking loudly and jeering at the serving girls attempting to deliver the food. Klian himself sprawled in the chair at the head of the table, drinking cup dangling from his right hand, watching the antics of his men.
At each entrance, two armed men stood at attention. Braxton stepped forward from his post keeping watch over the ruffians. In a loud voice, he announced Liam’s presence.
“Liam Tremain, Lord Ashwyn of Ashwyn Vargar, knight of the realm, defender and friend of King Ireic Theodoric of Anavrea.”
Liam ignored the discomfort that fell over him as the room filled with his full title. It had its purpose, he reminded himself. Braxton’s forceful attitude as he proclaimed his lord’s credentials made Liam wonder what had transpired while he was gone. Klian rose, setting his cup on the table, but his men ignored Braxton’s proclamation.
“I am glad you have returned,” Klian said a
s Liam approached. “We have much to discuss.”
“Aye, I especially wish to come to an understanding about the treatment of my vassals. From what I heard, you pressed my men into service before I arrived. I understand you did not know that I was in route and would have done otherwise if you had known.”
Klian’s face did not change, but Liam noticed a growing frigidness in the man’s eyes. Liam continued, very aware that he was about to make an enemy.
“I am willing to allow you to continue using their services, but the law requires that you pay me for their labor and time either in money or in the goods they produce. I don’t see how it would profit you to keep them. It would only result in losing the supplies they consume.”
Silence fell as Liam spoke. Klian’s smile froze on his face, contorting unnaturally when he replied.
“They will return tomorrow, but I will not relinquish payment to you. I am the rightful master of Ashwyn. I am betrothed to Lord Alain’s oldest daughter and have the contract to prove my position.”
“Ah,” Liam grew dimly aware that Braxton moved to his side, apparently afraid it would come to blows. “But you do not have the daughter. I have heard that she has eluded you for over four months now. When you have her and have married her, then I would recommend that you send a petition to the king. Of course, I doubt that he will listen. He has his own reasons for appointing me the master here.”
Klian smiled again. “Very well, I will petition the king.” Bowing stiffly, he turned on his heel, motioned to his men, and left. The moment the doors closed behind the last one, Braxton laid a hand on Liam’s shoulder.
“For a moment there, I thought he was going to draw his sword.”
“I was glad I did not have one for that reason.” By Liam’s assessment, Klian was too conscious of his image to cut down an unarmed man in public, an act that would brand him a coward for life. Slowly letting out the air trapped in his lungs, Liam turned to his friend. “Shouldn’t someone make sure they leave?”
“Jaren is seeing to it. You do realize we now have to watch our backs. He isn’t the type to give up without a fight.”
Liam nodded.
“So what is all this about a marriage contract with Lord Alain’s legitimate daughter? You acted as if this wasn’t news.”
“There is a contract, but it was signed by Lord Alain and Lord Klian when the daughter had passed the age of decision.”
“So it isn’t binding on the child, just the men.” Braxton nodded his understanding. “But what about the daughter? All he has to do now is find her and force her into marriage to make his claim stick.”
“What he doesn’t realize is that I have the daughters, and I am not about to let them out of my protection.”
“We have the daughters? There is more than one?” Braxton asked.
“Yes.” Liam crossed to the chair that Klian had been sitting in and sat down with a sigh. “Jayne and Trina are Lord Alain’s legitimate offspring.”
Braxton stared at him in shock.
“You mean she knew of this all along and didn’t tell you?”
Liam nodded. “The question is why.” Just then, Jaren entered. Braxton turned away, muttering something about increasing defenses. Liam stared at the abandoned cup on the edge of the heavy wooden table. “Also, what else she hasn’t told me?” he murmured to himself.
Chapter Four
Jayne dumped the laundry into the sudsy water. A wave of hot water swept over the opposite side and drenched Ryana’s skirts. She jumped back with a cry, the material plastered to her legs.
“Jayne.” Ryana dropped the wooden paddle on the floor in order to peel the steaming material from her skin.
“Oh, Ryana, I am so sorry. Go change, I will take care of this batch.”
Jayne mentally scolded herself for her carelessness. Picking up the wooden paddle, she tried to concentrate on pushing the material beneath the foamy water.
How did Lord Tremain discover the contract? And why was my age so important? The answer to the first question came easily. The whole town knew about the contract. Anyone could have told him.
Jayne still remembered the day her father forged the agreement with Klian.
He went hunting in the morning and returned late. Giving instructions that his meal be served in his study, he sent for her. She expected a tongue lashing at best. Earlier that day, Urith smuggled a cat into the kitchens, causing an uproar.
Instead, Lord Alain greeted her as she entered and for the first time in her memory, truly looked at her.
“You will do, I suppose.” Then he rose from his place behind his desk and handed her a page of heavy parchment. “Lord Klian has asked for your hand in marriage. I accepted. That is your marriage contract giving your husband control of all my assets at the time of my death. I have done my duty and provided for you.” He looked pious and expectant as though she should thank him.
“I will not marry Lord Klian.”
Moving so suddenly she had no chance to block the blow, he backhanded her across the face.
“You will marry him.” His voice grew quiet with anger. “Pray he will let you keep those brats you fancy. The marriage will take place when I say. We sign the contract tonight.”
“I will not sign it.” She tried to ignore her swelling face. “Even if you try to force me, I will not.”
Her father laughed. “You will not have to, girl. Klian and I will sign it and that will be enough to make it legally binding.” Then he returned to his place behind the desk. “Go. Klian will be here in an hour, and I need to finish my work by then.”
With a heavy heart, she left and vented her frustration on the floor of the main hall. She smiled ruefully as she remembered the two scrub brushes she had worn down that night.
I must have missed something. She ran through her memory of her father’s words again. What could Lord Tremain have meant? Why was my age so significant?
“I understand why he wants to marry you.” Lord Tremain’s voice interrupted Jayne’s thoughts. “But I don’t understand how you will avoid him.”
Jayne looked up to meet his dark blue gaze. The concern in his eyes made her falter in her stirring. She straightened her back and stuck out her chin.
“I don’t see how that is any of your concern.”
He laughed. It was a pleasant sound. Jayne glanced his way to find him watching her with amusement as he leaned against the doorframe. “Oran told me the same thing. I guess he learned it from you.” He paused as if waiting for her to refute it.
Jayne lifted the paddle from the water and reached for the washboard. She was thankful Oran proved strong enough not let Lord Tremain’s status intimidate him. On the other hand, a foolish tongue could get him into trouble.
Lord Tremain continued. “Since you have seen fit to accept employment under my roof and your marriage to Lord Klian would undermine my claim to Ashwyn, I believe I should have a say in the matter.” He hadn’t moved, but the room grew crowded.
“My father declared me a bastard.” She rubbed a particularly stubborn stain over the rough board. “I have no claim on your title.”
“Yes, but if you married Lord Klian, he would have legal claim on my title.”
Jayne assessed Lord Tremain. His face appeared honest. “I will not marry Klian. I told my father that, and I will tell you the same. The man is a thief and a tyrant. I refuse to be enslaved to the animal no matter what the betrothal contract says. I will not marry that man.”
She lifted the blanket from the water, turned it over, and slapped it down again. Water sprayed across the floor. Lord Tremain raised an eyebrow.
“As long as you avoid marriage to Klian, the contract does not bind you. You were past twenty-one, the age of decision.”
Jayne stilled. Alain lied. Not a total surprise, but still...
“He could not bind you to Klian without your consent, but he could give Klian incentive to wed you.” He paused and the sound of dripping water filled the humid air. “How are you goin
g to avoid him? You cannot hide inside these walls forever.”
Her stomach tightened. “You would throw us out?”
“No.”
Jayne realized he was not going to allow her to leave. She could not understand why the realization made her feel safe. Instead, she concentrated on the cooling wash water and hoped he had not seen the confusion in her face.
“So, I am now a prisoner here.”
“No.”
Jayne took a terrible satisfaction in hearing him lie. See, Kurios, he does not differ from father and Klian.
She reached for the paddle, but Lord Tremain claimed it first.
“What you are planning on doing?” He dipped the paddle into the water and fished out a quilt. “Where do you want this?”
“In the wringer tub.” She motioned toward the basin against the far wall. He transferred the first piece and returned to the tub to retrieve more. They worked in silence for a few moments. Jayne kept her mind on feeding the laundry through the wringer and then dropping it into the basket. Finally, the last piece dropped into the tub.
“So, what are you going to do?” he asked.
She glanced over to find him leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his broad chest. His eyes met hers briefly, before he returned to his observation of her hands.
“I am not leaving until I am fully satisfied that you are capable of taking care of the situation. I suggest you begin talking.”
Jayne yanked a little too hard and she felt the stitching give on the shirt in her hands. This man was going to be a problem.
She knew how to handle the men who liked to touch. A swift kick in a certain direction made them keep their distance. The men who talked too much were harmless. Eventually they grew tired of their own voice and left her alone. Easily angered men presented more of a challenge, but she could manage them. As long as she didn’t anger them too much, all she gained were a few bruises.