by Ruth Kaufman
“I thought you might have been thinking of some sort of revenge against your mother,” he said.
Solace's gaze snapped up to his, and her brows furrowed. He knew very well that she would never do anything to hurt Alissa.
He shrugged slightly, studying his nails. “After the way she degraded you in the courtyard.”
Solace raised her fingertips to the mark on her cheek.
“It should have been you slapping her,” he added in a whispered tone. “She was, after all, going to have you locked out of the castle.”
Solace gasped. “She wouldn't do that.”
“Oh, yes,” he said. “She had given the order to close the gates, even though we all saw you heading for the castle.”
Solace knew Alissa did not hold her in high regard, or even think of her as a daughter, but to do something so cruel was beyond even her. “But the gates were open. Surely she changed her mind.”
Graham could hardly contain a grin. “No. She never changed her order. I'm not quite sure how they were opened. I assume you can thank the gate guard for that.”
Solace stood dumbstruck, still not believing Alissa would lock her out of her own home, leaving her to Barclay.
“You poor creature,” Graham whispered, placing his hands on her shoulders. “If there's anything I can do for you...” He stepped a bit closer to her. “Anything at all, you need just ask.”
A prickle of warning went through Solace. “That won't be necessary.” He was closer to her than he should be, closer than she ever wanted him to be.
“Graham!” The voice came from down the hallway, and Solace whirled, grateful for the interruption. She stepped away from Graham and turned to see Beth running toward them. Her dark hair flowed behind her, shimmering softly in the torchlight. A samite gown decorated with red and gold embroidered leaves covered her tiny body. The warmth in her blue eyes hardened into cool disdain as her gaze moved from Graham to Solace. She turned away from Solace to hook her arm through Graham's. “I've been looking for you everywhere!”
“I've been speaking with your sister,” Graham answered.
“Oh.” Beth's words were clipped. “Hello, Solace.”
Solace nodded to her half sister, feeling a chill settle around her. How nice it would be to have a sister with whom she could share her secrets. But now that seemed impossible. They had never been very close, and in the last year any semblance of sisterly affection had disappeared completely. A little over a year ago, Beth had been enamored of a young knight who, she said, had pledged his heart to her. She had met him at a Tournament at Court. Then, one fall day he had come to visit Beth at Castle Fulton. Beth had been so excited. It was the first time she'd allowed Solace to share her joy, to be a part of her life. Her half sister had planned to marry the young knight, Robert. Live happily with him, bear him many sons.
He rode into the courtyard with all his armor shining and banners flapping. Solace stood at her sister's side, sharing in Beth's excitement. But from the first moment Solace met Robert, she knew something was wrong. Beth was obviously so in love with the man, fawning all over him, that she was oblivious to the fact he was not paying her the slightest bit of attention.
It wasn't but a week later that Solace was called in to see her father. Beth was there, and it was obvious by her red eyes she had been crying. Her father told her that he had sent Robert away. Solace had turned sympathetic, if confused, eyes to Beth. But when she went to comfort her, Beth had pulled away, snarling that she should not touch her. It was then that Beth proclaimed it was her fault. That Robert had fallen in love with Solace! That she had stolen him away from her!
Solace pushed the memory aside and moved away from Graham and Beth, feeling like an intruder standing before their linked arms, for Beth's narrowed eyes had told her she was not welcome. Solace still wished the two of them to be friends, to be real sisters, and she refused to give up, even in the face of Beth's chilly gaze. “I was just going to change, but afterward I'm going to the Great Hall,” Solace murmured. She took a breath, adding hopefully, “Care to join me?”
Beth raised an eyebrow. “No,” she answered and turned Graham away to lead him down the hall.
Solace watched them go, and something close to longing filled her soul. How nice it would be to be in love. Unbidden, the falconer's handsome features rose before her mind's eye. She glanced down at her hands where he had touched her, remembering the gentle warmth that had spread through her body as his flesh caressed hers.
How nice it would be to be in love, she again thought wistfully. A winsome smile spread over her lips as she headed to her room.
Beth pulled Graham into an alcove, a tiny arrow slit behind them letting in the only light, a pale sliver from the moon outside. She wrapped her arms around his neck, smiling up into his hazel eyes.
Graham let his hands roam up Beth's shapely figure until they cupped her breasts.
Suddenly, she pulled away from him and presented him with her back. “I've been finding you too much with my sister lately. If I didn't know better, I would say that you were chasing after her.”
Graham pressed himself against her bottom, fully aware of the longing that ached just beneath his breeches. “You know there is no one but you, Beth,” he cooed, touching her shoulders.
Again, Beth pulled away from him and turned to face him, her pout full and very practiced. “I wish I could believe you.”
Graham lunged after her, pressing her back against the wall. “You can believe me. You know I want only you. I would do anything for you, my love.”
“Prove it,” she whispered.
He began to lift her skirt, his lips nibbling her neck.
She pushed against his chest. “I meant something different,” she whispered.
Graham pulled slightly back, confused. Then a wolfish smile lit his lips and he began to turn her around, hiking her skirt over her bottom. “You want it like a dog this time, eh?”
“No!” she objected, shoving his hands away. She brushed past him to sit in the window seat. Her eyes flashed with dangerous ideas. “I was thinking... if it weren't for Solace, all of this would be ours,” she said, indicating the castle. “She is the only one who stands in our way.”
Graham quickly joined her. “We knew that when we were betrothed. It matters not to me,” Graham exclaimed.
Beth looked at him slyly. “It doesn't? I know you asked Mother for Solace's hand before you asked for mine. Of course, Mother agreed, but Solace turned you down.”
Graham gasped. “You know that?”
“I'm not a fool,” Beth said. She rose and paced to the other side of the small alcove. “To have Castle Fulton would mean wealth and power for you.”
“Beth, all I really want is you, I swear,” Graham pleaded.
“Spare me your declarations of love. I care not.” Beth turned to Graham, staring down at him haughtily. “Marrying Solace isn't the only way to get Castle Fulton.”
Graham's brow furrowed in confusion.
“There is another way.”
Chapter Five
The late night was disturbingly quiet as Solace walked toward the outer gatehouse. It was hard to believe that just outside the castle walls, thousands of men were preparing to steal her home. Somehow, it just didn't seem real.
She continued on through the courtyard. Her body was urging her to sleep, but thoughts wouldn't stop swirling about her mind. She still couldn't believe her stepmother had given the order to close the gates. But what really surprised her was that Hagen, the gate guard, had deliberately disobeyed Alissa's command, risking his life to help her. Why would he do that? She hardly even knew him.
She opened the wooden door and entered the gatehouse. Two soldiers were stationed near the doorway; both straightened at her entrance. They glanced at each other, and Solace saw the confusion in their gazes.
One of the men stepped forward, shifting his stance uneasily. “M'lady, did you come here alone?”
“Yes,” Solace answered, a
little baffled by the question. She had traveled to the gatehouse many times alone. And not once had any of the men questioned her.
“Is there something we can help you with, m'lady?” the other guard wondered.
“I'm going to speak with Hagen,” she replied, turning to head up the spiraling stone staircase leading to the upper floor of the gatehouse. But then she halted, facing the men. “Is there something wrong?”
The first guard ran a hand through his thick sandy brown hair. “Well, no. It's just that...” He cast the other guard a glance for help before continuing, “...with the Baron just outside the castle... well, mayhap you shouldn't be walking around alone.”
“He's outside,” Solace explained, “not inside the castle.”
The blond-haired guard bobbed his head. “Yes, m'lady.”
Solace turned away from them, moving up the staircase to the second floor. She scowled. Were they truly worried for her safety? Or was it something else? She couldn't help but wonder at their strange behavior. She was safe in her own castle!
Solace entered the second-floor room, nodding to the two guards who stood near the door. They straightened to attention as she walked toward the gate guard.
Hagen was a head taller than Solace, his mass of moppy red hair thick and uncombed. Freckles splashed his cheeks. He stood as she approached him. “M'lady,” he greeted with a bow of his head.
“Hello, Hagen,” she said. “May I have a word with you?”
He nodded his head and they moved to the far corner of the winch room. As she crossed the room, Solace glanced at the wooden post around which thick ropes were wrapped, the mechanism used to raise and lower the drawbridge under Hagen's orders. She turned her attention back to the red-haired man next to her. Hagen had worked for her father for over ten years. He wasn't a particularly ambitious man, and it had surprised Solace that he had taken it upon himself to open the gates for her, disobeying her stepmother's direct order. “I'd like to thank you,” she said softly.
“Me, m'lady?” he wondered.
“For opening the gates for me,” she added.
“Oh, ‘tweren't me, m'lady,” he said, looking down at his boots. “I mean, I woulda if the order was given. Nothin' against you. It was just that...”
Solace's brow knit in confusion. “You didn't open the gate?”
“I did,” he said. “But I was forced ta, if ya take me meanin'.”
“I don't understand.”
“I had closed the gate. Me heart was breakin', but an order is an order. When all of a sudden, this demon came charging up the stairs. He knocked over the two at the door and charged directly inta me. Said if I didn't open the gate he was gonna knock me teeth out.” He shrugged. “I opened the gate.”
“Who was he?”
“Don't know, m'lady. Never saw him before.”
“What did he look like?”
“If ya don't mind me sayin', he looked like a bloody demon. Dark as night, except for those eyes. They seemed ta glow!”
Solace nodded slightly, a disbelieving grin twitching her lips. “Thank you,” she murmured.
“I'm glad I could do it, open the gate that is,” Hagen added. “I'd hate ta see ya hurt.”
Solace nodded, calling forth a small smile. To whom do I owe my thanks? she wondered. And for what reason? Was it Graham? She almost laughed out loud. Go against Alissa? That was something Graham would never do.
“M'lady?”
Solace looked up at Hagen.
“Where's yer escort?”
“Escort?” she echoed. “I don't have one.”
“Beggin' yer pardon, m'lady. I know it's not me place, but do you think it's safe ta be out alone?”
“We're in Castle Fulton,” Solace replied, growing tired of the argument. “There is no safer place.”
Hagen glanced at the two guards at the door. “We were informed early this evenin' that there is a murderer in the castle.”
Solace straightened. “What?” she gasped.
“We were told to keep a watch out.”
“The dungeon guard was killed, m'lady,” one of the men at the door added.
Solace's mouth dropped open in shock. “Why wasn't I told?” she asked.
“Lord Harper said it wasn't necessary to worry the ladies,” Hagen explained.
Solace's eyes narrowed. “Lord Graham Harper?” she gritted out between clenched teeth.
Steel gray eyes watched Baron Barclay's army solemnly through an arrow slit in the wood hoarding scaffold. A group of men were positioned a good distance from the moat, well out of range of the castle's archers. They continued construction on a trebuchet that when completed would hurl deadly projectiles over the castle wall.
Earlier that day, messengers from Barclay brought terms of unconditional surrender to lady Alissa. She would have been a fool to surrender on such terms. He was sure that Farindale would hunt her down and kill her if she did. Many a lord would lose his life before losing his castle. Logan knew this from experience. He had been in more sieges than he had cared to think about. Still, the pay had been good, and more important, the loyalties and favors he had gained were invaluable.
The Baron had amassed a good-sized army. The line of soldiers and tents stretched as far back as Sullivan's Hill. Sullivan's Hill...
His mind drifted back to another army, another time...
Castle Fulton rose up into the sky around him, its gray turrets reaching for the crimson-painted clouds like thick fingers grasping for the safety of the heavens above. On the walkways of the castle wall, soldiers scouted the land for the coming army, their hard, callused fingers nervously tracing the hilts of their sheathed swords. Archers checked their bows, plucking at the strings, and inspected their freshly cut arrows. Around them, at the top of the castle walls, hoarding scaffolds were being built in preparation to drop hot, bubbling oil on any attackers.
He watched as a piercing cry drew the attention of one of the soldiers. The armored man swiveled his head to watch a boy chase after a sheep that had strayed from the flock being herded into the castle. Five other men were having great difficulty keeping the skittish animals in line. Logan looked away from the men to the large carts of food, hay and other supplies that filled the road leading into the castle. Villagers moved with quick desperation into the protection the large stone walls of Castle Fulton offered.
Nearby, another guard directed the incoming carts, his pointing finger darting in one direction, then another, shouting at the top of his lungs to be heard above the din. A small calico cat leapt off of one of these carts and raced through the outer ward, darting between the legs of Logan's horse. The gray-speckled horse whinnied and reared slightly, but he steadied him with a firm hand. He was a young boy of thirteen. His black hair lifted in a breeze that swirled in over the walls and slowly resettled onto his broad shoulders. He turned his gray eyes from the cat who disappeared into the inner ward to his brother who stood beside his mount.
“Don't do it, Logan,” Peter begged, placing a trembling hand upon the horse's neck.
A smile came easily to Logan's lips; his gray eyes sparkled like the edge of a freshly drawn blade in the setting sun.
“It's too big a risk,” his brother insisted, his brown eyes filled with worry. “You‘re being foolish.”
“Afraid, Pete?” Logan mocked with a cynical twist to his charming smile.
Peter straightened his shoulders, but refused to give in to the goading. “You know what Father will say if he finds out.”
Logan shrugged, his black hair waving defiantly in the breeze as he cast his gaze toward the open gate and the steady stream of villagers entering. “Then he won't find out.” He turned back to his brother. “Will he?” Peter turned away from Logan's hard stare. “Don't worry, Pete. I just want a look. I'll be back before the sun sets.” He turned his steed and headed out through the outer ward gates and down the road into town.
“Be careful!” Peter called after him.
But Logan barely heard. Hi
s mind was already on the sight that would greet him. An army! In full plate mail! Riding huge war horses! He had never seen an army. How many knights will there be? he wondered. How many foot soldiers? He had accompanied his father to many tournaments, but that was nothing compared to an army! He had to see them, just a peek over Sullivan's Hill. Then, he would return home...
But he never made it back.
Quickly, Logan pushed the bitter memories out of his mind. Instead, he concentrated on Farindale's downfall. It wouldn't be long now. He just needed to find his brother.
And to do that he must find her. Solace. But how was he, a common falconer, going to impress the lady enough to get her to tell him where his brother was? Perhaps the best approach was the direct one. 'Hello, m'lady. You don't know me, but I'm looking for my brother. Yes, we'd like to kill your father, but pay that no mind.'
He groaned softly. How could he ask her when she was the daughter of his enemy? Perhaps he could say Peter was a friend. But what if he was locked in the stocks? How would it look for him to be searching for a man who was Farindale's enemy?
Perhaps he should just keep his mouth closed and his eyes and ears open. But where had that gotten him? He could be here for years.
The thought of soft hands and full lips rose in his mind. He cursed silently. The wretched beauty's image had plagued him the entire day. Her stubborn stance against her mother was admirable. And when the woman had struck Solace, a peculiar feeling of protectiveness had surged inside him. Logan had even found himself stepping forward.
And now, late at night, instead of trying to formulate a plan to find his brother, he was thinking of her large green eyes and wondering what her full lips tasted like.
Why did it have to be Farindale's daughter he thought of? Why couldn't it be some wench who would sate his lusting so he could get on with his mission? Why couldn't it be her sister? She seemed willing enough, rubbing herself along the length of him, making it quite apparent she was more than interested in him. But he was not in the least attracted to her. He had seen her kind before, nobility with no honor, no loyalties. He found himself sneering at the thought of Beth. She was, indeed, beautiful. But her blue eyes held no warmth, no compassion, no sincerity. He could take her and enjoy it as much as taking a warthog.