by McCall, Mary
She nodded and blushed. “I’m not used to being around all those noble people and I didn’t want to go into the hall unless you were there.”
His chest swelled. His wife felt safe with him. He wanted her to feel valued too. “I will try to stay with you as much as possible, but I have duties also. That was one of the reasons I asked Medwyn to stay with you. Are you uncomfortable around him?”
“I have been embarrassed around everyone.” She dropped her gaze and leaned against him again. “I thought they would all think you thought me inferior and worthless and that’s why you took all my chores away.”
“No one thinks that, cheri. You were working yourself to death. The serfs have been complaining to me about you having too many duties. They do not think you are inferior and neither do any of my men.” He tipped her chin back, making her look into his eyes. “Now are you feeling rested?”
She blossomed pink and directed her gaze at his chin. “I overslept.”
Why did that question make her blush? “I ordered everyone to stay away and allow you to sleep until you woke.”
“I feel lazy,” she admitted.
“Good. Let’s discuss two words—mite and mighty. Do you know the difference?”
“A mite is little and mighty is powerful.” She snorted and her expression told him she thought that a dumb question.
“Then tell me the truth.” He captured her gaze with an unrelenting force. “Are you a mite sore or mighty sore from our lovemaking?”
She hid her face against his neck. “Do we have to talk about this? ‘Tis embarrassing.”
Bernon cocked an amused brow. She made love like a wild woman then couldn’t talk about it. “Your embarrassment won’t kill you and we should be able to discuss this without it.”
“Well, last night after we finished, I was feeling a mite sore, but today I’m feeling mighty achy. I had to soak myself before I could even walk well. I have been afraid ever since I woke that you would want to do that again and I’d not be able to bear it.”
He suppressed his urge to gloat. She probably wouldn’t appreciate his pride over her disability and he didn’t want her any more upset. “We will wait until your mighty ache goes away before we do it again. Are you ready to go back?”
“Aye.” She sighed and looked out at the water. “I’m going to miss my boat. ‘Tis one of the few things I truly enjoyed.”
Bernon set her aside, stood, then offered her a hand and drew her upright.
“Bernon, can I do something this week if ‘tis for pleasure and not work?” she asked, taking hold of his hand and pulling him with her along the grassy bank.
He closed his fingers over hers and smiled. He liked the way she liked holding onto him. “What are you wanting to do?”
“Restore some of the stuff in the armory. I was having fun doing that.”
“You may do so for no more than two hours a day.” He couldn’t resist. He pulled her damp body close to his side and draped an arm across her shoulders.
“Thank you,” she said, slipping her arm around his waist. “I tried doing nothing for almost a quarter of an hour and grew bored.”
“You said you have a birthday coming up. What day?”
“’Tis the first of June. When is yours?”
“I do not have one.”
“But everyone is supposed to have a birthday, so people can celebrate them.” she said, worry furrowing her brow.
Bernon clenched his jaw. “My mother never saw my birth as a reason to celebrate.”
“My father never celebrated me either. You know, Bernon,” she said in a serious tone, “I think maybe that’s why we ended up married—so we could celebrate each other.” She tugged him to a stop and looked at him with a becoming blush. “Do you mind if I go back through the maze? I cut my skirt so it wouldn’t weigh me down. I don’t want everyone to see me dressed like this.”
He tightened his hold on her. “Lead the way. I’ll come with you.”
~ * ~
Bernon left Barwolf soaking her mighty ache in the short-person’s bath, went to his chamber, and changed. He donned the tunic she had made for him just to cheer her up and wondered at his worry over her tender feelings. He grunted. Like he hadn’t almost gone berserk over the thought of losing her less than a half hour before. “God’s teeth,” he grumbled. “I might as well admit that I do care, so I can get over it.”
A knock sounded at the door when he was cinching his braiel in place and he called over his shoulder, “Enter.”
Geno pushed open the door and sauntered into the chamber. “I thought I would find you here if I waited long enough. That must be some maze.”
“It is. I left Barwolf soaking in a bath that would make even your ancestors blush.”
“Does the little wolf still wish she was dead?” Geno asked, crossing his arms and casually leaning a hip against the table by the hearth.
“She is insecure,” Bernon replied, sheathing his dagger.
“Great legs though,” Geno said, his eyes dancing with mischief.
Bernon scowled and released an irritated grunt.
Geno chuckled. “Well, I’m not blind.”
“Do we have men on our vulture?” Bernon asked, changing the topic. Geno was never going to let up.
“Aye.” His friend lost his levity. “He hasn’t been out of sight, but he could have done the damage before we found him.”
“He also may not be alone. There is still the matter of the snake.”
“I thought about that. The men are all alerted and looking for anyone suspicious.”
“Which would be easier if William’s court hadn’t followed him. Is he down yet?” Bernon asked, exasperation grating his tone.
“Nay, but you have a new situation to deal with.”
“What now? Has the ghost of my wife’s grandfather begun haunting the keep?”
Geno chuckled. “Nothing so unbelievable, but supernatural just the same. Your wife’s second favorite person in the world just arrived.”
“So the famous Uncle Aurick is home at last.”
“He came in with one man. They are both unarmed, and the rest of the legion waits outside the gorge. Said he felt a need to assess the situation.”
Bernon raised a supercilious brow and waved an arm toward the door. “Then by all means, let’s go display ourselves.”
They descended to the hall and Bernon immediately spotted Aurick. The barrel-chested Saxon appeared pure brawn with flowing chestnut hair. His green eyes sparkled with laughter as he sat on a bench near the buttery screen, holding Sapphire and Topaz on one knee, Ravyn, who held Karl, on the other, and Genius perched on his shoulders. The children all spoke at once, their excitement over the warrior’s arrival evident. Bernon saw Ardith hovering nearby and was bemused by the joyous expression on her face. She obviously had deep feelings for the man. A tall Saxon warrior with dark-brown hair stood at her side, smiling at the reunion, with his arms crossed over his chest and his legs braced. Bernon judged him to be fit and in his late twenties.
Genius glanced up and spotted him. “Papa! Uncle Aurick is home!”
“I see,” Bernon replied, stopping about ten feet from them and crossing his arms in front of him.
“Get down, you young scamps, so I can stand and give his lordship a proper greeting.” Aurick ushered the girls from his lap, tweaked Karl’s nose, drawing a giggle, and set Genius on the floor. Standing and approaching Bernon, he stopped a few feet away, eyed the tunic, then nodded. “Well now, you must be the new Lord Strangclyf. The little lamb wouldn’t let just anyone wear her hair.”
Bernon raised a brow at the legion commander, whose head barely rose to his chin. Height had nothing to do with skill. This Aurick would be a challenging adversary. “True. And have you come to give me your pledge?”
“That, milord, depends on whether or not I decide you deserve it,” Aurick replied, looking Bernon right in the eye.
Bernon hooded his eyes and clenched his jaw. “You wish to tes
t me?”
“’Tis no great trial.” Aurick smiled. “Just answer a simple question and I will know if you’re worthy or not.”
Bernon noticed the smile didn’t quite reach Aurick’s eyes and got the nagging feeling that he was being judged on something other than his leadership abilities. He was curious to discover just what test might be worth the man’s life. “You may ask your question.”
“What is your wife’s name?”
Bernon set his face in a chiseled mask. That was it? What he named his wife was the basis of the Saxon’s test and the man was staking his next breath on the answer. Was everyone around here daft or just single-minded? Of course, the question rang of loyalty to his lady. “’Tis a question I cannot answer. I have had many suggestions, but I’ll not decide until I find the one that best suits her.”
A huge grin broke through Aurick’s beard and he nodded once. “A good and honest answer and one I can abide.”
Dropping upon one knee and placing his right hand over his heart, Aurick pledged his loyalty to his new lord.
“You may stand,” Bernon said.
Aurick rose and turned halfway. “Come, Druce, and meet the Strangclyf.” Facing Bernon, he said, “Druce is second legion commander under me.”
Druce approached Bernon, dropped on one knee, and gave his pledge. Then the warrior stood, looked Bernon in the eyes, and grinned. “Welcome home. ‘Tis good to have a just lord at Strangclyf.”
Bernon nodded once in recognition of the statement. “Did you also base your loyalty on my wife’s name?”
“Nay,” Druce replied. “My mind was set as soon as I heard Genius call you papa.”
“The legion awaits us outside the gorge,” Aurick said. “Will you ride with us or do you wish to receive their pledges here?”
“I will ride with you,” Bernon said, relaxing his pose. “I have a delicate matter to discuss with you away from the keep, but tell me, was there really a Viking invasion?”
Aurick settled his fists on his hips and bellowed a laugh. “Old Earlingsson got about eighty yards from shore and saw the Strangclyf legion waiting to greet him along with the Canmore of Scotland and half his clans. Those prissy Norsemen turned back without even giving us a good skirmish.”
“Then this wasn’t a trick to lure you away so Hadwyn could take the keep?” Geno asked.
“Nay.” Aurick turned sheepish. “We might have gotten here in time to help you with Hadwyn if the MacInnes hadn’t brought along a couple of wagonloads of liquid gold. Being old friends, ‘twould have been rude not to force them to share.”
“Aye, and though ‘tis shameful to admit,” Druce added. “After your lady’s message arrived, we had to get over one hell of a slosh afore we could sit astride our mounts.”
Bernon nodded. “Aurick and Druce, meet Geno.”
“He is our uncle now too,” Genius said.
“He is an extra-special bastard,” Sapphire added in her best serious tone.
Aurick got down on a knee and looked her in the eyes. “You don’t say. And what makes him extra-special?”
“He has a holy sire,” Sapphire confided. “’Tis the pope. I heard one of the ladies talking when she didn’t know I was there.”
“We do not know for sure ‘twas the pope.” Geno grinned. “We only know my presence was embarrassing someone in the Roman Curia. ‘Tis a pleasure to finally meet the great Aurick. The little wolf will be glad you’re home.”
“But no one is to tell her,” Bernon ordered, turning stern eyes on the children. “’Twill be a surprise for her at dinner tonight.”
“A secret?” Topaz asked.
“Aye, so lock your lips and do not tell your mother.”
“I’ll make sure Topaz keeps quiet,” Sapphire promised.
“’Tis probably you that he is most worried about telling, little gem,” Druce said then winked at Sapphire’s outraged pout.
“Can we see her now, Papa?” Genius asked then turned to Aurick. “Papa is making Mama rest.”
“Give her time to finish her bath and dress, then you may visit. Are you ready, Aurick?”
“Just about. ‘Tis something important I must do first.” Aurick walked toward the common corridor where Ardith stood watching them. He wrapped his arms around her, swept her feet from the floor, and captured her mouth in a fierce kiss. Lowering her feet to the ground, he gave her bottom a firm squeeze then broke the kiss and looked at her dazed expression. “’Tis good to see you missed me, woman.”
Ardith blushed and pushed at his shoulders. “Let me go, you big lummox. You’ll have his lordship thinking me a harlot.”
Aurick glanced at Bernon, winked, then returned his gaze to her happy violet eyes. “’Tis fine for him to know as long as he is not of a mind to share what’s mine. I missed you too. How is Betia?”
“She is sitting with a wounded soldier, but Cora relieves her soon. She will be happy you are home.”
“Wait up for me.” Aurick kissed Ardith’s nose and gave her bottom another rub then released her and ambled toward Bernon as she fled into the common corridor. “Always give their bottoms a firm rub, milord. Not sure why, but it sets their passions boiling.”
Bernon shook his head and grinned. Good ole’ Uncle Aurick had the devil’s own roguish streak.
“I heard the famous Uncle Aurick was here,” Medwyn said by way of greeting as he entered the hall.
“And who has been talking about me?” Aurick put his fists on his hips and turned a mock glare on the children, earning a round of giggles.
“Medwyn, come meet Aurick and Druce.” Bernon turned back to the two men. “Medwyn is my first commander and right now he is also my lady’s personal guard.”
Druce frowned. “Has there been trouble other than Hadwyn?”
“We have a problem with vultures and snakes,” Bernon replied.
“God help us, Aurick. He sounds like Padarn,” Druce exclaimed.
“Aye, and if ‘tis a Padarn riddle, I know who the snake is,” Aurick said with a fierce glower. “His lordship is right. We will discuss this as we ride.”
“Medwyn, I am going to meet the legion. My lady is not to know they have arrived, and for God’s sake, don’t let her do any work.”
“Well, Medwyn, I have always wanted to meet a miracle worker,” Druce said on a chuckle. “Keeping our little lady from working will be a supernatural feat that could earn you sainthood.”
“Don’t I know it,” Medwyn grinned. “Every time I think she is giving me a break, she is sneaking off.”
“’Tis the truth, she is slippery,” Aurick said then ran his fingers through his beard as the men walked toward the door. “Tell me, milord, have you a barber around here? On my way in I felt as if I was standing out amongst my hairless own.”
Fourteen
Barwolf looked at her remaining wardrobe and frowned. Bernon had ordered her not to wear her everyday gowns again, but she had only her special gold gown with the black bear left. What if she blundered and spoiled it before the celebration tonight? Shaking her head, she released an exaggerated sigh and reached for the old frayed kirtle. Hopefully, Bernon would be busy and not see her.
After donning her clothes, she ran her fingers through her short curls and slipped her dagger in place. Her first meeting with Bernon flashed through her mind. An uneasy sense of foreboding crept upon her as several questions bombarded her. Who had tried to kill Bernon that day? What if whoever it was had come to Strangclyf with the other court followers? Could the same person want her dead too? What if the assassin went after Bernon again?
“I should want to die,” she answered her last question in a grief-stricken whisper. Momentary panic assailed her as she remembered her life before Bernon. He made her feel safe and maybe even a little wanted. “I can’t lose him now.”
Barwolf made her way from the bath to the Roman armory. She took five daggers from the wall then retraced her steps. After securing a dagger up both sleeves, to each calf, and between her shoulder b
lades, she stood and squared her shoulders. “Anybody trying to kill my Bernon will have to deal with me.”
Returning to the lord’s chamber, she glanced at the bed and grimaced. She had rested enough for one day, and she was the Lady Strangclyf, after all. Bernon might want her to wait before assuming her duties, but she had a sick soldier who needed tending and poor little Karl probably needed some special attention right now. She would go check on Jerold, then she would find the children and make sure they were getting along.
Stepping out of the chamber, Barwolf was surprised to find Lady Lucretia snooping about the landing. The two women faced one another. Barwolf’s nostrils flared. She saw a stunning, confident redhead who could have posed for one of those statues in the bath. She also noticed the venom in the older woman’s eyes.
“’Tis a rule that no one enters the lord’s tower without permission, Lady Lucretia,” Barwolf said, making an effort not to gag on the word lady. “If you are lost, then I shall be glad to direct you.”
“And what makes you think I do not have permission?” Uncertainty flickered in Barwolf’s eyes and Lucretia seized upon it. “Bernon bade me familiarize myself with the entire keep, so we could figure out the best route for nocturnal trysts. Apparently you do not satisfy him in bed.”
Barwolf frowned. “He has made no complaints. I am very still and make no noise.”
Lucretia laughed, a grating sound that chilled along the spine. “No wonder he is not satisfied. Men want you to moan and move. Of course with your delicate build, he is probably afraid you will break under his weight.”
Barwolf rolled her eyes and snorted, crossing her arms in front of her. “Do not be ridiculous. He doesn’t lay on top of me, and ‘twould keep him awake if I moved and moaned.”
Lucretia’s eyes widened with surprise then narrowed to devious slits. “Are you saying he has not bedded you?”
“We sleep together in bed.” Barwolf furrowed her brow, not certain what the woman insinuated.