William’s gaze left her, noting the corner of the stables was coming into view. “Aubrey was impressed with his patents, which is as good as a reference. But he has asked for a demonstration of skill.”
Avalyn’s eyes widened and she looked up at him. “Are you serious? What kind of demonstration?”
William knew before he even said it that she was not going to like it. “He goes against St. John this afternoon. An exhibition of skill for the baron’s review.”
She came to an unsteady halt. “What?” she hissed. “Brogan does not have that kind of experience, William. He’s a soldier. You must not allow this!”
He lifted an eyebrow at her. “What did I tell you inside? You must never mention that name. I meant it.”
She ignored him. “Did you hear me? This cannot happen.”
“He must if he is to stay. There is no choice.”
Her cheeks were flushed with concern, with anger. William gave her hand a tug and they continued on their way. “He’s not a knight, William,” she muttered as they walked. “St. John will destroy him.”
William almost laughed. “You forget, my lady; I have seen your soldier in battle. What he lacks in skill or tactics he makes up for in strength. St. John is the one you should be worried for.”
Avalyn drew in a deep, calming breath, struggling to recover some of her composure. Her nerves were on edge with excitement and apprehension. They were entering into the stable yard now and her eyes were beginning to search for the familiar figure in the area.
“I do not wish ill on St. John,” she said softly. “He has proven himself to be a thoughtful, obedient knight over the past few weeks.”
William nodded. “Do you feel safe enough with him now?”
“I do. He has been considerate around me. I do believe his actions on the night he interrogated me were purely at my uncle’s bequest. He was following orders.”
“Aubrey told you that.”
“I know, but I did not believe him at first.”
“Then I will make a request of you, my lady.”
“What’s that?
“Do not tell the baron that you feel comfortable around St. John. Your aversion to him is the only thing keeping him from sending me back to your uncle. He does not want me here as it is.”
She looked up at him, then. “I know,” she said quietly. “Trust me; I’ll say nothing of my growing trust for St. John.”
As they stood in the center of the yard, the emergence of several figures from the charger stalls suddenly caught their attention. Both William and Avalyn turned to see Barton St. John emerging into the sunlight with Charles and Brogan beside him; Charles was speaking with animation and Brogan was listening intently. William could feel Avalyn start; he hoped she could hold herself in check. He began to wonder if it had been entirely wise to bring her out here. As if he could have kept her away.
Charles immediately caught sight of Avalyn, waving eagerly to her and heading in her direction. But Avalyn couldn’t even look at him; her gaze was fixed on Brogan as if she was incapable of seeing anything else. A glance from William showed tears forming in her eyes. William patted her hand and encouraged her to move forward to meet her betrothed.
“Avalyn,” he snapped softly. “No tears. You must control yourself or you will give us all away.”
She nodded swiftly, looking at the ground and struggling to compose herself. No sooner did she raise her face than Charles and the two men were upon her. She did not look at Brogan; she kept her eyes fixed on Charles, praying that she could keep herself in check when she and Brogan were introduced. It was the hardest thing she had ever had to do in her life.
Charles smiled happily at her, blissfully ignorant to the treachery going on around him.
“Lady Avalyn,” Charles took her hand from William in a possessive gesture. “I would like to introduce you to Sir Tygor Gervaise. Sir Tygor, this is my fiancée, the Lady Avalyn du Brant.”
Avalyn summoned the courage to look at Brogan, trying to remain as emotionless as possible. But the moment she gazed into his dark blue eyes, she felt her knees buckle. Had she seen him under different circumstances, she would hardly have recognized him; dressed in worn armor and mail, he looked every inch the massive, experienced knight. She thought she might collapse, for she had experienced nothing in her life as powerful as the emotions currently surging through her veins. She almost lost her control. But in the very last second before the implosion she was able to recover and dipped her head towards him in an acknowledging gesture. She was so jittery that she thought she might fall on her face.
“Sir Tygor,” she hoped her voice didn’t sound as shaky as she felt. “Welcome to Guerdley Cross. Are you passing through on your travels?”
Brogan shook his head, the dark blue eyes liquid and soft on her. “Nay, my lady. I have offered my services to the baron. I would hope to settle here.”
“I see,” Avalyn was in imminent danger of dissolving. “You look capable enough. But you are not from England. Where were you born?”
“Saxony, my lady,” he replied steadily. “I have been in the service of the Earl of Hesse.”
She simply nodded, unable to continue the conversation. She was afraid that if any more words were exchanged, she would burst into tears. “We are honored that you have come.”
Brogan simply nodded his head; he was having more difficulty than he ever imagined maintaining a neutral expression. Here she was, in the flesh, looking lovlier than he had remembered; he broke out in a cold sweat as he continued to stare at her. For the past twenty-two days, he had done nothing but think of this moment, every action, every effort he made moving him closer and closer to the time when he would be face to face with her again. Now that the moment was upon him, he could hardly breathe.
But any more conversation or exchange of looks would have caused suspicion. Avalyn wisely turned away from Brogan and re-focused on Charles’ fat, smiling face.
“Charles,” she said as evenly as she could manage. “I’ve come to see to my colt. I was told he spooked again the other night and almost trampled a stable boy.”
Charles looked deeply concerned. “I heard that also. Would you like me to accompany you?”
The first word on her lips was a negative. But not wanting to appear cruel, or suspicious, or just plain mean, she agreed.
“Of course.”
Charles took her elbow and led her off in the direction of the stalls. William and Barton watched them go, but Brogan was focused on anything other than the lady. He was struggling so hard not to look at her that sweat peppered his brow. Barton’s gaze eventually returned from his liege and lady back to Brogan; a big man himself, Barton only came up to Brogan’s shoulder. He ran a hand through his chin-length blond hair, feeling the sweat on his scalp from the pulse of the weak sun.
“Well,” he said, his blue-eyed gaze raking the yard. “I have a few things to attend to before our bout this afternoon. Inglesbatch, can you take Gervaise in hand? I don’t want him wandering around alone, getting into trouble.”
There was mirth in St. John’s eyes but Brogan, at first, thought he was serious. He looked at the blond knight with a measure of venom as Inglesbatch quickly intervened; he saw Brogan’s menacing expression and sought to divert the pending snap.
“I’ll take him in hand,” he told Barton. “You’d better prepare for your bout with him this afternoon. From the looks of the man, you’ll be lucky if you can walk away.”
Barton grinned, sizing Brogan up. “We’ll see.”
The cocky knight strolled away, back across the bailey. Brogan realized the man had been jesting with him and his anger rapidly cooled. They waited until St. John was out of earshot before turning to each other. William jerked his head in the direction of the knight’s quarters to the south.
“Come along,” he said quietly.
They had barely taken three steps when Brogan spoke. “I’d forgotten just how beautiful she is. Is she well?”
“Well
enough,” William said. “But I will tell you the same thing I told her. You must never acknowledge her in any manner of familiarity. You must never speak her name. To do so would only jeopardize all of us. Is that clear?”
Brogan nodded, though he did not say anything. William looked at him, noting the sheer size of the man in armor. The foot soldier was now a full-fledged war machine. He’d never seen anything so intimidating.
“Would you mind telling me what is going on now?” he said with quiet casualness, his eyes roving their surroundings to make sure no one in particular was listening. “I would hear the entire story so I know what I have gotten myself into.”
Brogan, too, surveyed his surroundings. “My name is Tygor Gervaise. My father’s name was Tygor. The patins you saw was his. This armor belonged to him. My father was a great knight in Germany.”
William nodded in understanding. “Avalyn told me that was your plan. So you have become your father to get close to her?”
“Aye.”
“And then what?”
“And then I take her and our daughter back to Germany. Did the Sirens not tell you this?”
“The Sirens?”
“The women with Avalyn.”
William lifted his eyebrows in recognition. “Ah, the ladies. No, they did not. Did they know of this?”
“They knew that I was to come to Guerdley Cross posing as my father. I assumed they told you what else they had heard.”
William shook his head faintly as they rounded the keep. The knight’s quarters were directly ahead. “They did not,” he said. “Tell me; just how do you plan to take her out of here? It will not be easy.”
The mail made noise as Brogan walked; it grated and clanged, sounding like death approaching. “St. Alban is with me. He is working on a plan.”
William’s brow furrowed as he looked at him. “Where is he?”
“In the knight’s quarters. My mother is here, also.”
“In the knight’s quarters? Are you mad?”
Brogan shook his head. “She is in the town to the south in St. Helen’s. She has my daughter with her. They are staying in a small inn.”
“God’s Bones,” William hissed. “Did you bring the whole family to put in peril?”
Brogan remained calm. “This is St. Alban’s scheme. I had to bring him. For all you know, he is my aged father.”
William lifted his eyebrows exaggeratedly. “He’s English. You’re German. Anyone will be able to pick up the difference in your speech right away.”
“He is my stepfather.”
William sighed heavily, eventually emitting a snort of ridiculous irony. The complexity, and therefore the unbelievability of the situation, was growing by leaps and bounds.
“As you say,” he muttered. “All that aside, don’t you think you should practice before taking the field against St. John this afternoon? Fighting on horseback is much different than fighting on foot.”
Brogan cocked an eyebrow. “What do you think I’ve been doing for the past two weeks?”
William crossed his arms over his chest. “You tell me. In fact, you need to tell me everything. The fact that you’re here not only puts Avalyn in danger, but me as well because I know who you are. By virtue of the fact that I have not told Aubrey, I have put myself in extreme peril. At the very least, Aubrey and de Neville would kick me out of their service were they to discover this. More than likely, I would be arrested and tried as an accessory.”
Brogan’s jaw flexed. “Accessory to what?”
“To thievery. You are planning on stealing the lady, are you not?”
“Aye.”
“No liege, nobleman or king would ever trust me again if truth became known that I assisted you in your quest for the lady. I would be finished as a knight and quite possibly forfeit my life.”
Brogan was quiet, contemplating. “Will you come with us, then? I am not sure Avalyn will want to leave you here to face justice.”
William wriggled his eyebrows. “Hopefully my part in this will not be discovered.”
“Then why are you helping us?”
Round blue eyes snapped to Brogan, fixing on him. Brogan watched the emotions rolling forth, the narrowing of the orbs. After a moment, William averted his gaze. “Because I am a fool for the lady, just as you are. She deserves some happiness in life. If I can help her achieve that, then I will do so gladly.”
Brogan could see something in the man’s expression. He’d suspected it from the first, but it strangely wasn’t something that overly concerned him. “You love her.”
It was a statement, not a question. William refused to look at him, instead lifting his shoulders weakly. “She loves you. What I feel is of no consequence.” He shifted on his legs and began to move towards the knight’s quarters once more. “Now, tell me; what have you been doing to prepare yourself for this charade as a knight?”
Brogan would not push the man on his feelings. They were of no matter as it was. Inglesbatch had already proven himself a selfless individual and Brogan would not insult the man with inconsequential concerns. Besides, if he thought about it, he’d known the truth from the onset and the knowledge did not bother him. He knew that Avalyn did not return any presumed feelings.
He followed William towards the barracks. “St. Alban has been working with me day and night with sword and joust,” he said, changing the subject. “I’ve hardly slept at all. My entire focus was to be ready for this moment.”
“But two weeks?” William repeated, glad that they were no longer touching on the fragile subject of his feelings for Avalyn. It wasn’t that he did not want Brogan to know; he simply didn’t want to talk about it. “And you believe yourself ready to confront a man of St. John’s experience?”
“We will soon find out.”
William paused again, looking at him with a great deal of skepticism. “Do you really think two weeks of practice will prepare you for this? Your patins said you had been a knight for almost twenty years. If you don’t perform like a man with years of experience, then this pretense is over. Aubrey has been pushing Avalyn to set a wedding date, and if you do not execute to acceptable standards, then Aubrey will not accept you and any hope for this scheme will be finished. Avalyn will not be able to delay their wedding any longer; she’s been fortunate to hold out this long. Do you comprehend?”
“I do,” Brogan replied steadily. “I will be ready.”
“You’d better be.”
They resumed their walk, eventually reaching the knight’s quarters. It was a long building, built from the same dark gray granite stones that the rest of Guerdley Cross was constructed from. Nestled against the outer wall, it was also close to any action the fortress might see. In the dust and chaos of the bailey, the two men paused and looked at one another. There was heavy emotion in the moment.
“You had better go in and prepare yourself for your bout against St. John,” William said, wondering why he suddenly felt so disillusioned by this entire scheme. He was positive that Brogan was going to fail against St. John’s years of experience. “I shall come for you later.”
Brogan shifted on his enormous legs, the mail left to him from his father constricting in tender places. “I want to see her,” he said in a low voice.
“Out of the question.”
“Please, William. Make it so. I must.”
William wouldn’t look at him, not at all offended that Brogan had used his Christian name as if they were equals. He opened his mouth to staunchly refuse again just as Charles and Avalyn rounded the keep, coming from the stables. Brogan looked at her but just as quickly looked away; he was trying so very hard not to be obvious in his attention.
“Please, William,” he begged again. “Just a few moments. I swear that we shall be careful.”
William could hear his pleading, watching as Avalyn and Charles headed for the retractable steps to the keep. After a lengthy pause, he sighed heavily; he knew the moment he was alone with Avalyn that she would ask the very same t
hing. As risky as it was, and against his better judgment, he was resigned to the inevitable.
“Go to the stables,” he muttered. “Prepare your charger for your coming bout with St. John. I’ll come for you if I can.”
Without a glance to Avalyn, Brogan turned on his heel and entered the dark confines of the knight’s quarters. William went into the keep in the wake of Charles and Avalyn.
He had barely entered the cavernous, round-shaped entry when he heard Avalyn’s voice in the solar to his right. Peering inside, he could see that Avalyn was showing Charles the needlepoint scene she was working on. The man’s expression was wide with astonishment and pleasure.
“It’s stunning, my lady, truly,” he was saying graciously. “I am deeply touched that you would make this for me. It’s… it’s overwhelming.”
Avalyn smiled wanly, catching sight of William at the door. She waved him in. “Come in, William,” she said, almost too eagerly. “Did you get the new knight settled?”
“I did, my lady,” he stood a few feet away but had a clear view of her needlepoint. “A fine piece of work, my lady. Most impressive.”
Charles’ smile faded as William spoke. He looked at the knight as if to wish him far, far away. Though William didn’t look at him, he could nonetheless feel the man’s animosity. He cleared his throat and moved back in the direction of the door.
“If my lord and lady will excuse me,” he said. “I have duties to attend to.”
“Nay, William, do not go,” Avalyn was well aware that Charles was, by his expression, trying to chase the man away, but she would not let him leave. “I must speak to you about my colt. It seems that he has somehow injured himself. You know so much about horses; would you please take a look at him?”
William nodded slowly. “Of course, my lady. What seems to be the problem?”
“A bowed tendon, I think,” Charles spoke before Avalyn could respond. “Go and see to him now, Inglesbatch.”
It was not a request. He wanted to get rid of him. Displeased with the less than kind tone from the usually congenial man, Avalyn moved in William’s direction. “Excellent idea,” she said, to both men. “I shall go with you, William. He seems to calm when I am around him and you will be able to more carefully examine his leg.”
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