by McCall, Mary
“Mama!” Genius jumped up and caught her waist, keeping her from falling.
“Are you all right?” Bernon asked as he gained his feet then kept his legs from collapsing by sheer willpower.
“I guess I am not so used to being knocked upside my head lately, but I am all right.” She took a few wobbly steps toward the door.
“Are you staggering from dizziness or limping from pain?” Bernon asked, clenching his jaw.
Genius suddenly looked horrified. “Mama, your feet are all bloody!”
“I wish you had not said that, Genius,” she said in a shaky tone. “I was trying to imagine them as just a mite sore. Now they hurt so much I do not think I can walk on them.” She shook her head ruefully, causing her to groan and clutch her ear. “When I get time, I am going to have to clean all the debris from the maze.”
“Over my dead body,” Bernon said then closed his eyes and placed a hand over the lump on his head.
“Zut, Bernon!” Melita cried, hobbling to his side as he wavered. She wrapped her arms around his waist. “Most people use ‘over my dead body’ as a mere expression without immediately falling over. You are whiter than seafoam.”
“I will be fine—just give me a moment.” Bernon took a few deep breaths then opened his eyes. “Come, ma petite. I will carry you.”
“’Twould be better if we just lean against each other, Bernon,” she ordered. “And you are not fighting Orlege today either. Aurick is your legion commander and he will handle—”
Bernon scowled and cut her off. “How many times do I have to tell you that I am lord here? I give the orders. Now let go of my waist, so I can pick you up.”
“I do not think you shou—”
He lifted her into his arms before she could finish her latest argument and staggered toward the open wall. “Genius, come along and light our way.” He looked at Melita and grumbled, “Keep your eyes closed in the first tunnel until I say you can open them. I would rather not have you toss up on me.”
“Did you see Sidney then?” she asked, scrunching her face and shuddering at what her imagination conjured.
“I saw what is left, and your grandfather was right. There are too many pieces to bury.” He tightened his grip on her, remembering how he felt when he thought she was part of the bloody mess. “You are valuable, rare, and precious, Melita, and I thank Almighty God for you.”
“I love you too, Bernon. ‘Tis why I am still not letting you go after Orlege.” Melita wrapped her arms around him and lay her head on his shoulder. “You do know if you fall, ‘tis me who gets squished.”
Bernon chuckled. “You are not encouraging nice and docile behavior.”
She pulled back and looked at him through concerned eyes, cupping his jaw with her palm. “But I am worried about you. ‘Twas a hard hit on your head and you are not feeling well. I can tell, and I do not want you to make yourself worse. You could—“
Melita broke off and tensed as a heavy vibration rumbled through the maze. “Someone dropped the portcullis. You think maybe Orlege was stupid enough to enter the gorge?”
“’Twould solve your problem if he has,” Bernon replied, rubbing his jaw against her palm.
“What problem?”
“Keeping me from going after him,” Bernon replied. “Genius, how much farther?”
“We are almost there,” Genius called back.
Melita gasped “I forgot to tell you. ‘Twas Gremian who tried to kill you in Londontown and Sidney who threw the dagger here. Do you know Sidney killed Lady Lucretia? She was going to warn you about what they had planned.”
“I am sorry to hear that,” Bernon said, sounding truly mournful. “Lucretia may be greedy and devious, but I think Balen has a weakness for her.”
She dropped her jaw in surprise and stared at him as if he had grown horns. “But you said a weakness for a woman made a man less effective as a warrior.”
“That was before my weakness developed,” he whispered and kissed her nose. “How is your ear?”
“Pounding,” she said. “How is your head?”
“Thundering.”
“Here we are,” Genius called out ahead of them as he entered Jupiter’s Hall.
“Did you find Mama and Papa?” Manuel yelled, running toward the access. Bernon stepped out with Melita in his arms and fell against the wall as Manuel launched toward him and caught him around his legs. “I am so glad you are both here!”
“Praise God Almighty!” Aurick exclaimed, his voice resonant with emotion. “Manuel got us this far but he didn’t know the way to the coffers.”
“Papa, come help us,” Melita ordered, trying to pull out of Bernon’s embrace. “Geno and Balen, you need to come too. Bernon is hurt.”
Bernon growled as Aurick whisked Melita from his arms, and Balen and Geno took hold of his arms, lending him support. “Damn it, Geno. Quit looking at her legs.”
“You cannot blame him, brother. My sister has great legs,” Balen goaded as Melita tucked the sheet around her legs.
“Just remember they are my legs too,” Bernon grumbled, shrugging off their help.
“Well, he must be all right,” Geno said in a relieved tone. “I wasn’t even looking at her legs.”
“Did you hear the portcullis drop?” Melita asked.
“Aye,” Aurick replied, carrying her toward the corridor where they had entered with Manuel earlier. “’Twas probably Medwyn and Druce catching a weasel named Orlege.”
“Papa, take us to the bath down that corridor,” Melita said, pointing the direction. “’Twill be quicker.”
“Aye,” Bernon agreed. “I left Topaz and Sapphire in the bath with orders not to leave until we returned.”
“Wait!” Melita demanded. As the men halted and stared at her, she turned sad eyes on Balen. “I am sorry, Balen, but Sidney told me that he killed Lady Lucretia. Bernon said you have a weakness for her, so your next few weeks will be difficult. Just remember we are all here for you. You cannot have Betia, because she is already promised to Geno. But when you start feeling better, I shall pick someone else for you.”
“No need to fret just yet, sister,” Balen replied. “I found Lucretia. She suffered dangerous wounds, but Lady Brianna assures me that she has a good chance at healing.”
Aurick snapped his brows together and frowned at Melita. “And just who did the promising of my daughter?”
Bernon broke into a full rich laugh then placed a hand against his sore skull. “Ah, ma petite, you are a treasure. You do not know how long I have wished to see just that expression on Geno’s face.” Bernon slung an arm around his friend’s shoulders and grinned. “This, my friend, is what your holy sire would call revenge.”
Sapphire ran into the corridor from the bath and flung herself at Bernon, wrapping her arms around his legs. “I knew you would save her, Papa! I love you.”
“I helped,” Genius boasted. “And Papa is going to train me to be a warrior too.”
“Know what, Papa?” Sapphire beamed up at him. “Topaz and me found the way out through your chamber. The king trapped Orlege, and Claud sailed Druce away to get a priest. We get to have celebrations until they come home.”
“Do we now?” Bernon said on a chuckle, picking up his excited daughter. “And just what are we going to celebrate?”
Melita gazed at Bernon through love-filled eyes. “We are celebrating because we have a bear at Strangclyf, so everything worked out all right.”
Epilogue
Strangclyf, England, June 1, 1067
“Hurry up, Bernon,” Melita ordered, tugging her husband down the stairs into the foyer of the lord’s tower.
Bernon hauled her back against his side as they entered the hall. “You will slow down before you break your precious neck.”
“But we are in a hurry. Come this way,” she said, trying to urge him toward the front door.
“Why are we in a hurry?” he asked, pulling her back. “And I have a notion to go out the back door and inspect the fleet
.”
She gasped. Her eyes grew wide then she dug in her heels and scowled up at him. “I want to go out the front.”
“But I am your lord, and I want to go out the back.” Bernon settled his hands on his hips and favored her with a stern frown. God’s bones, nothing was simple with her, and now her eyes were flashing in a calculating manner. What was the little imp up to? He would stand firm this once and not cave in to her demands. She would come with him and enjoy her surprise.
Well, zut! She didn’t want him angry today, but he looked like he was not going to budge on this. How was she suppose to surprise the surly bear if he wouldn’t cooperate? She could make a dash for the front door, and then he would follow her, wouldn’t he? Tears watered her eyes. Well, zut, why did she feel like crying all the time lately. “Can we go out the front door and look around first, then go out the back door when we are done, please?”
Damnation, was she crying again? He was getting sick of her tears gushing out all the time for no apparent reason. How in perdition could he not give in with her beautiful chin quivering like that? Bernon heaved an exasperated sigh, grabbed her hand, and dragged her along with him toward the front door. Pushing open the portal, he hauled her outside and stopped on the top step. “Here we are, ma belle. What did you wish to look at?”
Melita looked around at the empty inner bailey and frowned. Where was every one? Aurick had promised he would take care of this part for her. Did he pick another place or blunder on the time? Now Bernon’s whole surprise was spoiled.
“Well, my dear?” he asked in an overly patient tone that conveyed his readiness to be gone.
She cleared her throat and sniffed. Well, zut! What was she supposed to say? Everything was ruined, and she had so wanted today to be perfect. A fat tear rolled down her cheek as her face crumbled. Then she bowed her head.
God’s bones, what was wrong? Could this be one of those fits Aurick warned him to expect? Bernon slipped his arms around her, pulled her against his chest, and gently rubbed her back. “Calm down, and tell me why you are so tearful.”
She shrugged then sobbed harder and clutched at his tunic. “I am sorry, Bernon. I do not know why I am crying, but I cannot seem to stop.”
Bernon picked her up and cradled her in his arms. He didn’t know if he could stand another seven and a half months of this. She probably didn’t even understand why she was so emotional. If she had figured out her condition, she would be beaming and bragging. Mayhap he could get Lady Brianna to have a talk with her later today. He turned and carried her back into the hall.
“Where are we going?” she asked on a gulp then sniffed against his neck.
“Outside the back, so we can look at the fleet.” And her birthday celebration better put a smile on her face.
Crossing the vacant hall, Bernon let a smile play across his lips. He couldn’t wait to see the look on her face. He pushed open the door and stepped out onto the low landing.
Seeing the deserted bailey and lack of activity near the docks, Bernon scowled. “Damnation.”
Melita sniffed and looked at him. “What is wrong?”
“No one is here,” he said through clenched teeth. “Where in perdition did everyone go?”
“A moment of your time, milord,” Aurick said from behind them. “We have a situation in the hall demanding your attention.”
Bernon growled as the muscles corded in his neck. “All right, but I expect some explaining from you.”
“And so do I, Papa,” Melita added with a stern frown, still nestled in her husband’s arms. “You made me a promise.”
The threesome entered the hall, which promptly reverberated with a thunderous, “Happy day!”
Melita beamed as vassals, ladies, serfs, and servants poured out of every tower, corridor, and hung over the galleries. Bernon drew to a halt, kissed her forehead, and grinned at her. “’Tis all for you. Blessed birthday.”
“Nay, Bernon, ‘tis for you,” she insisted with a happy grin and patted his cheek.
“’Tis for both of you,” Aurick said on a chuckle. “Between the little lamb making plans and the Black Bear making plans, everything was getting blundered. The children decided we should make all the plans ourselves.”
Bernon frowned. “Why were you making plans, cheri? ‘Tis your day.”
“But I am giving you my day, so we can celebrate you,” she replied with a winsome smile and cupped his cheek. “Remember, ‘tis why we ended up together.”
Love for her surged through his veins, and Bernon smiled. “Then we must share the day, because I intend to celebrate you. We shall start with your present. Come to the dock and see your new boat.”
“But, Bernon, you should not give me one,” she protested with an embarrassed blush. “You give me things all the time and I have nothing to give you except the day.”
Mischief twinkled at her from his silver-gray eyes, and he stood her on her feet. “Of course you have a gift for me, ma petite. Just look down.”
Melita glanced toward the ground then raised a baffled frown up toward him. “What do you mean?”
Bernon splayed a hand over her belly, leaned down beside her good ear, and whispered, “’Tis getting bigger.”
She gasped and her eyes grew huge. Then she looked down, settling her hands on top of his. “You really think so?”
“Aye,” he said, grinning at the joyful glow radiating from her. “And if ‘tis a boy, I think we should name him Barwolf. I have grown rather fond of the name.”
“We shall name him Bernon, and I mean it,” she retorted, casting him her ferocious glower.
Bernon chuckled and drew her into her arms. “Ah, ma Melita, do you know I used to be a fierce warrior who commanded respect and obedience from all? Then I married a valuable, rare, and precious—”
“And brave,” she slipped in.
“Aye, and brave little wolf, who took me into her heart and made me feel celebrated everyday. You must allow me a fondness for the name.”
“Well zut, you do not like Barwolf better than Melita, do you?” A pretty pout pushed out her lower lip. “I am not wanting to give my new name back.”
“I like your new name and you will keep it,” he said, caressing a finger along her succulent lip and releasing a sigh. “I shall just hold the name Barwolf safe in my heart as a fond memory of my first meeting with my sweet bride who mistook me for the devil.”
A light pink hue swept over her cheeks. “I guess I should apologize.”
Bernon laughed and kissed her red nose. “Forget apologies today. We are going to celebrate each other.”
An excited gleam leapt in her eyes and she grabbed his hand. “Let’s go see my new boat. I have a mind to try something when we get far enough out to sea that no one can watch. After all, you haven’t boated me yet.”
Chuckling, Bernon tugged her against his side and wrapped an arm around her as they continued on their way to the dock. “Honest to God, ma petite, I do like the way you think.”
About The Author
Mary has been telling stories all her life. Now she writes Historical Romances set mainly in the medieval Highlands and England that have put her on the Amazon bestsellers list three times. She has won or placed in over 43 historical romance contests and is a past Golden Hearts finalist. She loves history, has a particular fondness for the Greek through Medieval periods, and is glad research for her books has finally utilized her ability to speak Ecclesiastical Latin. Mary resides in Memphis, Tennessee with her Maltese, Regina Catriona, who runs the home. Visit her website www.marymccall.net or e-mail her [email protected].
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