Wulf was asleep. His head was on the table, his arms folded under it, forming a makeshift pillow. His face affected Broc the most. In sleep, all signs of the stress of daily living were gone. The fan of his lashes lay against his cheeks. Broc had never seen a man with ones that long before. They were almost too long to be on a man’s face. In sleep, the boy looked beautiful.
Broc stretched his hand out and gently placed it on Wulf’s head before he realized what he did. His hair felt like silk. He splayed his fingers and ran them through the strands. The boy did not awaken. Broc should stop. With the amount of mead he had consumed, he could easily lose control, but the urge could not be ignored.
He slipped off his chair so he kneeled beside Wulf. The motion caused his hand to rest on the boy’s back. His fingers seemed to have a mind of their own. For they moved down Wulf’s arm, then up. Once they reached Wulf’s shoulder, he brushed his knuckles across the soft skin of Wulf’s cheek. He felt no roughness that one usually felt when touching a man’s face. It almost seemed as if Wulf was not capable of growing a beard. Something was not right there, but the drink had fuddled his mind, not allowing him to grasp what it was.
A new sensation washed over him. Broc looked at Wulf’s eyes and found them open and watching. No fear or disgust lurked in them. If anything, they told him his touch was more than welcome.
Chapter Ten
The sight of Broc’s face so close to hers took Ariel’s breath away. She had been asleep, but the sensation of someone caressing her cheek had brought her to awareness. Even though he thought her to be male, she could not bring herself to stop him. It felt too good. It had been so long since he had touched her in that way.
His gaze never left hers as he softly brushed her cheek with his fingertips once more. Moving lower, he cupped her chin. He rubbed his thumb slowly back and forth across her bottom lip. That was enough to send Ariel bolting upright in her chair.
“Shush. I did not mean to upset you.” In one fluid motion, Broc stood. “You were asleep. Maybe you should retire for the night.”
“Aye, I think I will.” Ariel pushed back her chair and stood.
All the mead she had drunk during the evening rushed to her head. The room spun, and her legs gave out. If Broc had not caught her around the waist, she would have fallen to the floor.
Broc pulled her closer to his side and then walked to the chambers at the back of the hall. “I think you might need some help if you are to make it to your bed.”
Ariel tried to pull out of his grip, but her legs would not function properly. “I will manage. Do not worry about me.”
“Fine, if that is your wish.” Broc released her, and Ariel promptly slipped toward the floor once more. A strong arm caught her. “It seems that a little help would be in order.”
Ariel did not reply. She could do nothing but accept his assistance. As they staggered to her chamber, she noticed Broc was not very steady on his feet, either. They somehow managed to get to the chamber door and then walk across the room to her bed.
Broc released her, and her legs promptly gave out on her again. On the way down, Ariel grabbed his tunic to stop from falling. As she landed on her back on the mattress, she threw him off balance and he ended up falling on top of her. They went very still. She felt the hard length of his body on every inch of her. A small gasp escaped before she could silence it. That little sound seemed all he needed to act.
Broc lowered his head and claimed her lips with his own. Ariel jerked in surprise, but she made no move to stop him. As if he’d sensed her acceptance, he ran his tongue along the seam of her mouth. At his insistence, she opened, giving him the invitation he needed. He gently stroked his tongue over hers, and she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck.
This was bad, very bad. If this went much further, there would be no way of hiding what she truly was. What Broc did to her sent waves of desire through her. She was not strong enough to stop. She gave herself up to the sensations that pooled in the lower half of her body and groaned.
Broc stiffened and roughly jerked his mouth from her lips. The passion slowly died in his golden eyes and was replaced with a look of utter disgust. She felt like weeping. He did not know it was her. He only saw Wulf. Even after what they had just shared. He seemed sickened by what he had done. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and then quickly jumped off the bed.
Ariel reached out to him, to stop him from leaving. She could not do that to him. It would be a cruelty she did not wish upon him. She had to explain, but Broc just stared at the hand held out to him. With a shake of his head, he rejected it and rushed out of the room.
* * * *
He still would not speak to her. It had been days since the episode in her chamber. Ariel had tried to talk to Broc the next day, but somehow he had managed to avoid her. Nothing had been resolved.
They were half a day away from London. During the day they rode in silence, and at night, Broc would eat, then promptly go to sleep. Ariel decided she would give him some time, but as the days passed, he made no attempt to talk to her. He even refused to acknowledge her presence.
Once they stopped to make camp for the final night before they reached their destination, Ariel decided it had gone on long enough. It had to end. London was a large city. She had only been there once before, and knew no one. No one except for Broc. She could admit to herself she was a little nervous. She could only assume she being a Saxon in a Norman court might not be a pleasant experience for her. She needed him for support.
After Ariel had unsaddled her horse and hobbled it, she walked to Broc. He had a small fire going. The food that made up their evening meal sat spread out on a blanket. Still ignoring her, he grabbed his share and began to eat.
Ariel stepped around the food until she was in front of Broc. She practically stood on him. Still he ignored her. She wondered how long he would hold out before he was forced to look at her. She had no intention of moving until he spoke to her.
Broc finally glared up at her. “What do you want?”
“Ah, he spoke. I thought you must have lost your tongue or the ability of speech had left you.”
“Well, as you can see, neither has happened. Go eat. We are going to have an early start tomorrow.”
Ariel shook her head. “Nay, I think not. At least not until we have a talk.”
Broc stiffened even and dropped his head, refusing to look at her. “I have nothing to say to you.”
Ariel would not let him off that easily. “You might not, but I have something to say to you.”
Broc almost growled at her. “Leave me be, Wulf.”
“I cannot do that. We have to speak of the other night.”
Broc surged to his feet. Face red, hands clenched at his sides, he yelled. “Nay! If you want to make it to London in one piece, I suggest you keep your mouth shut!”
Ariel had never seen Broc like that before. He was always so even-tempered. With the full force of his anger directed at her, she stepped back. He had hurt her, but no way would she let him know how much. Abruptly, she turned away. She picked up her food and then went to sit on the opposite side of the fire. She gave up. He could go to hell. Let him drown in his own worries. She would be damned before she put his mind to rest.
* * * *
At dawn the next morning, Broc awoke Ariel by giving her a shove in the ribs with his boot. Once her eyes opened, he walked to his horse and saddled it. He spoke not a word to her, which suited her. She had nothing further to say to him.
Ariel rolled her bedding up and then went to ready her own horse. As she walked by Broc, he shoved some food into her hands. He most definitely was in a fine mood that morn. She saddled her horse and stowed her bedding Once she gained her seat, she hung her shield over the horn of her saddle, keeping it within easy reach should the need arise.
Broc rode them hard all day. He did not even stop to eat at noon. By the time London came into sight, darkness had fallen, and Ariel was extremely hungry. Tiredness
ate at her. She hoped once they reached the court a bath would be offered. After all the days of travel, she badly needed one.
Half an hour later, Broc and Ariel rode through one of the city gates. She forgot all about how tired she was. She had known London was large from her previous visit, but it still cast a spell over her. The sheer number of people living in one place overwhelmed her as it had before. Even at this late hour they walked along the streets.
Ariel felt lucky to be with Broc, for she found herself unable to pay attention to where they went. The sights and smells were all still so new to her. She could not concentrate on anything else. From her lofty position on top her horse, she could see a lot more than if she had been on street level. At the center of the city, a fort had been built. The Normans must have constructed it once they had arrived. William probably wanted some protection from the citizens of London.
Broc went to the gate, and one of the guards stuck his head over the wall. “State your name and business.”
“I am Broc St. Ceneri. King William summoned my companion and me to court.”
The guard disappeared. A short time later, the gates opened to admit them. Once inside the fort, they slammed shut behind Ariel and Broc. A feeling of being trapped swept over her. She was locked inside a fort with her enemy.
A guard took their horses’ reins and then led the animals to the stable. Ariel stood where she had dismounted, not knowing what else to do. There were a number of smaller buildings inside the walls, but one was larger than the rest, dominating the area. She assumed that had to be William’s residence. Almost as if he knew she had been thinking of him, William walked out of the building.
Ariel held her ground as the king greeted Broc. Seeing them together, she could tell they were close friends. Neither man paid any attention to her. She did not let that bother her. William already knew her secret. She just hoped he kept it that way.
Ariel looked up to see William staring at her. He nodded in her direction, then waved for her to come closer. Knowing it was an order, she did as she was bid.
With a bit of trepidation, Ariel went to stand before the king. He grabbed her by the shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Well, Wulf, it seems you have nicely recovered from your wound.”
“Aye, sire.” Ariel relaxed. For some reason, William seemed not inclined to expose her.
“Good. I have informed Broc of the two chambers I had made ready for you both. I will let you get settled in and then I wish to speak to you.”
“Just me, sire?” Ariel did not like the sound of that.
“Aye. There are a few items I need to discuss with you.”
After saying that, William left Broc and Ariel. Broc had a strange look on his face. He probably wondered what William needed to talk to her about. That same question kept running through her mind as well.
* * * *
With a groan of pleasure, Broc sank into the warm bath. It was just what he needed. If only it could clean away some of his memories as it did the dirt from his body.
The days on the road alone with Wulf had been pure hell. Every time he looked at him, memories of how his lips had felt under his flitted through his mind. He was drawn to him. He had never kissed a man like that ever in his life. What made him feel sick about the whole thing was his reaction to it. He had liked it.
Broc drew up his knees and ducked his head under the water. Surfacing, he found William in the room.
“I see you are making use of my tub.”
Broc wiped water off his face and smiled. “I figured this had to be yours. There are not too many tubs that accommodate my size.”
“I thought you would enjoy it after your days of travel to get here.” William grabbed one of the stools in the chamber and then sat close to the tub. “I see our little Saxon survived.”
“Aye, he is a fighter,” Broc answered blandly.
“In more ways than one I imagine. I saw the shield slung on his shoulder when you arrived. Does it mean you have knighted the lad?”
Broc stiffened at the mention of Wulf. “Aye, I did. I could not let such talent be left to rot. The boy is a natural. He can disarm me without trying very hard.”
“Really? That is interesting news.” To Broc’s surprise, William bellowed with laughter.
“Do you mind telling me what you find so funny about that?”
William chuckled and shook his head. “I think not. Let me tell you of the activities that have gone on since your departure.”
Broc perked up with the change of subject as he sat straighter in the tub. “Did you face much resistance?”
“No, actually. Once the dead had been properly buried, including Harold, I went back to Hastings. I did not stay long, though. Food became short in supply. We met no more opposition so I decided to move on.”
William stood and went to the table that held a goblet and pitcher of wine. After pouring a goblet full, he returned to Broc’s side. He took a sip and then continued.
“Finish your bath before the water cools.” Broc complied as William spoke once more. “We went to Dover and burned it to the ground. There, the army took sick. Most of the men suffered from cases of diarrhea and fever, which put them out of commission. Some recuperated, but I ended up having to leave a third of them behind. We next marched to Canterbury, which luckily turned out to be uneventful. The city surrendered without a fight. I have to rule these people, so I was happy for that. It would go much easier for them if they would just accept me.” Pausing, William took another sip of wine. “Then I got the blasted illness. It hit me hard. Laid me up for a month. Not pleasant at all, I might add. Once back on my feet, I headed toward London, and so here I am.”
Water sloshed inside the tub as Broc stood. William picked up the toweling and threw it at him. Broc caught it and then dried himself. “So, how did the people of London take to you?”
William shrugged. “Not well, I’m afraid. We arrived at Southwark, which is at the southern edge of the bridge, and met with some resistance there. The citizens of London somehow managed to form a so-called army to fight me. They crossed the bridge to meet us, and we fought them. Eventually, we drove them back, and I had Southwark put to the torch. After that greeting, I had this fort built. Once completed, I entered London and claimed it as my own.”
William would not brook any resistance from the people of England. It was just his way of letting others know he did not relinquish what he called his. “Did they finally accept you as their king?”
William smiled. “You could say that. I am to be crowned on Christ’s birthday in Westminster Abbey, but I doubt it will be the end of any future resistance. I am sure to spend many years to come exerting my rights.”
Broc pulled on a fresh tunic and trews before he filled another goblet of wine for himself. “You know I will always be your man. I have land now and can supply men for your endeavors.”
William stood and returned his goblet to the table. “Does that mean I can have Wulf if I wish?”
“Nay!” That single word came out with far more force than Broc had intended. He took a deep breath to calm himself, then continued. “Nay, I need the boy at Elmstead.”
William seemed to intently study Broc. “I think you need him more than you would like to admit, dear friend. I will leave you now.”
William left Broc to ponder the true meaning of his words.
* * * *
Ariel had bathed and changed into fresh clothes. The evening meal would be served shortly, but at the moment, she would not be able to eat a bite. She hoped William would send for her soon. Her stomach was tied up in knots. She could not think of any reason the king wanted to speak to her alone.
After a short knock on the chamber door, William stepped in and then tightly closed it behind him.
Ariel, who had been sitting on the bed, shot to her feet. “I thought I was to go see you, sire.”
William came closer. “Relax, Ariel. I just came to talk, that is all.”
Some of the tension le
ft her. “What do you wish to talk about?”
“You and Broc.”
Nothing like getting right to the point. “Well, as you have probably seen, there is not much to say about us.”
William clucked his tongue. “Oh, I beg to differ. You have come to my court as a knight, not a Saxon without rank.”
Ariel felt herself blush. “That was Broc’s idea. I could not pass up what he offered. I now have some rank in your society. A place in what England is coming to be.”
“That is most true.” William paused and looked at Ariel. “You are very beautiful. I do not understand how Broc cannot see you as a woman.”
Ariel quickly suppressed the urge to scoff at the king. “Because he is blind. He has not figured it out, and he probably never will. Even during close contact, that man is too stupid to see what is before him.”
From the look of interest on William’s face, Ariel could see he was intrigued. “What do you mean by close contact, my dear?”
He sat on the bed and then patted the space next to him. Ariel could not stop the flush that she felt creeping across her face as she seated herself beside him. She had not meant for him to know.
“On the night Broc knighted me, we had a little too much to drink. There is a bond between us, even though he fights it with all his being, and it grew stronger as he trained me.”
“Are you telling me something happened on that night?”
Ariel looked at William and rushed on. “Aye, it did. We kissed, and now Broc refuses to talk to me.” She put it as simply as she could.
William showed no outward show of emotion to her statement. “Did you tell him you were the girl he seeks during any of that?”
Ariel shook her head. “I tried, honestly I did, but it was already too late. He is so filled with disgust he will not even come near me.”
“I see the problem here. Poor Broc thinks he kissed a boy. I have always found him to be very perceptive. It is one of the qualities I have always admired in him. I cannot understand why he has not recognized you.”
Lady Knight Page 10