The Agents of William Marshal Volume II: A Medieval Romance Bundle

by Kathryn Le Veque

  After the sun set, men began to fill the great hall, greeted by bread and butter and drink. In Wales, it wasn’t usual for men to drink wine, as it was expensive and had to be imported, so they drank what they had – fermented fruit drink, such as cider made from apples or even pears, or mead, which was fermented honey. Wybren, like most castles, had their own brew wives, and they brewed a pear cider that was delicious and had a powerful kick. They watered it down for those who became drunk too easily, but there was also the full-strength version which was much loved by the knights.

  All of this was waiting for the men as they filtered into the hall and began their meal, while out in the kitchen yard, Juliandra was overseeing the final process on the beef and vegetables. Stacks of stale trenchers, broken into two pieces so there were more to go around, were being loaded with food as Juliandra headed inside to see to the meal.

  The night was in full swing.

  To be truthful, she liked it. It was much bigger and much more exciting than The Neath, whose meals were generally limited to her father and any guests he might have. His men didn’t even eat with him. There was excitement in a castle filled with soldiers, from the stories they told to the games they played to the singing they indulged in.

  In fact, Juliandra had learned a few songs she couldn’t repeat, one titled Tilly Nodden and the other one titled Alice Had A Phallus. They were naughty, but great fun. She was rather sorry she couldn’t sing them to her father when they returned home, for she was fairly certain he would have found them hilarious.

  If his daughter hadn’t been the one singing them.

  Juliandra was in the hall, making sure things were going smoothly, when one of the gate sentries approached her and told her that there were minstrels at the gatehouse asking for shelter and food. Traveling entertainment was rare and always highly desirable in the wilds of the Marches, so Juliandra invited them in. They were brought to her, five of them, and she put them near the hearth to sing for their supper.

  It was an unexpected occasion, having music while eating, and Juliandra was pleased with the evening’s showcase. Men were already enjoying their food as the minstrels sang and even acted out their songs, quite entertaining for the diners. Juliandra was watching from the edge of the room, near the servant’s entrance, when she saw Kevin and his knights enter.

  Immediately, she waved to the servants, who collected the food meant for the knights. Just as Kevin and the others sat down, they were swarmed with servants, who brought them steaming food and that strong pear cider.

  Juliandra joined them.

  “It seems we have entertainment for tonight,” she said as she sat down next to Kevin. “I hope it is to your liking.”

  Kevin glanced over at her. It was the first time he’d seen her since watching from his tower chamber. As his infatuation with her grew, he purposely forced himself to stay away from her, fearful she might discover his secret yearning for her.

  “Everything you do is to our liking, my lady,” he said as she poured him some of the strong cider. “Ever since you have taken over the duties, the hall has never run so smoothly.”

  Juliandra smiled modestly. “Thank you, my lord,” she said. “I enjoy it.”

  “Do you?” he asked, jesting with her. “Because it is a great deal of work. I know, for I have seen how hard you have been working.”

  “She has done a remarkable job,” Cal piped up, interrupting their conversation. He lifted his cup to her. “My lady, a toast to you. The most beautiful woman on the Marches.”

  As Juliandra smiled hesitantly, embarrassed by the brash young knight’s flattery, Bannon spoke up.

  “Isn’t your mother on the Marches?” he asked. “And your sisters? You have just put Lady Juliandra above them?”

  Cal eyed Bannon with some distaste. “I cannot think of my sisters as being beautiful, although men have said that they are,” he said. “And my mother is a lovely woman and not to be trifled with, but she is also married. And my mother. Lady Juliandra is neither. I am, therefore, free to express my appreciation of her beauty.”

  There was a hint in that answer, something that made Kevin take notice. Bannon had warned him that Cal had his eye on Juliandra, but he’d never seen it so plainly as he did now.

  Bannon had been right.

  He needed to stop whatever Cal was thinking before it grew into a problem. To put the man in bad graces with Juliandra, he looked straight at Bannon.

  “Did he not say the same thing about that smithy’s daughter in Shrewsbury?” he said. “I seem to recall almost those exact same words. It seems to me that Cal has that speech well-practiced.”

  Bannon picked up on what Kevin was trying to do right away and he happily jumped on the anti-Cal bandwagon.

  “Those were his exact words, aye,” he said as Cal’s eyes widened. “It wasn’t just the smithy’s daughter. It was also the baron’s daughter near Wolverhampton. What was her name? Elenore, I believe.”

  Kevin nodded as Cal sat across the table and sputtered. “Ah, the fair Elenore,” he said. “At least, that’s what Cal said. Repeatedly. Did you not also suggest marriage to her, Cal?”

  Cal was beside himself. “I said no such thing!” he gasped. “By what right do you spread such lies?”

  Bannon was starting to chuckle. “Lies? Who says they are lies?” he said. “It is well-known that you troll for women as a fisherman would troll for fish. Throw out a net to as many as you can and see what comes back.”

  As he and Kevin snorted, Cal was starting to turn red in the face. He looked at Juliandra. “I have no idea why they are doing this,” he said. “It is lies, all lies. I do not troll for women.”

  Juliandra was trying not to grin at the embarrassed young knight. Kevin and Bannon were being rather dastardly in the way they were teasing him, but it was quite humorous. Cal de Poyer was a handsome young knight, but far too immature for her taste. She had seen that over the past two weeks, the way he was quick to temper and quick to speak, whether or not he knew anything on the subject. But he was also big and strong, and she’d heard Kevin say that he was hell in a fight, so he had his redeeming qualities.

  But she simply wasn’t interested.

  “Have no fear, Cal,” she said. “Your secret is safe with me. I’m afraid you cannot say the same thing about your friends.”

  Frustrated and embarrassed, Cal had enough. He collected his cup, and one of the pitchers on the table, and wandered off, making a face at Kevin and Bannon as he went. The pair laughed uproariously at Cal’s distress.

  “He shouldn’t bother you again with his sappy flattery,” Kevin told her. “Although the young knight has good taste, he is only making a fool of himself.”

  Juliandra looked at him, smiling. “Thank you, good lord,” she said. “But why is he making a fool of himself? A woman likes to hear that she is beautiful now and then.”

  Kevin looked at her, feeling too much of that spirited cider in his veins. “Is that so?” he said. “Well, then I shall tell you that I agree with Cal. You are the most beautiful woman on the Marches.”

  Juliandra’s cheeks turned pink but her gaze never left him. She was still smiling at him, now appreciatively.

  “May I tell you a secret?” she said.

  “Please do.”

  “You are the only one I care to hear that from.”

  His smile faded and he looked at her with great interest. “Truly?” he said. “Then I will tell you every day.”

  She lowered her gaze in a flirtatious gesture. “I do not know if I need to hear it daily.”

  “You do need to hear it daily. It is true.”

  “I am prettier than the English ladies you have known?”

  He nodded without hesitation. “English women can be too pampered,” he said. “Sometimes they are too fragile. I do not like fragile women. I like women who can sew a dress or stand up to Cal’s foolish flattery.”

  He was saying far more than he should have, but that cider was causing his tongue to l
oosen. He didn’t even realize he’d said such things until they came out of his mouth. But Juliandra didn’t seem to mind; she smiled at him openly.

  “Do you speak of me, sir?” she said, feigning shock. “I never thought I would hear an English knight speak so fondly of me.”

  His smile faded. “Do you ever think you will come to the point where you do not see me as English?”

  Her smile faded, but not completely. “Do you ever think you will get to the point where you do not see me as Welsh?”

  “I already do.”

  She studied him a moment, seeing by his expression that it was true. She believed him without question.

  “So do I,” she said quietly. “I think I stopped seeing you as Saesneg some time ago. I do not know when; it simply happened. May I tell you another secret?”

  “Please.”

  “I have enjoyed my time at Wybren.”

  He shifted towards her, leaning on the arm of his chair. “You have worked wonders since you have been here,” he said. “Wybren has never run so smoothly. I would keep you here forever if I could.”

  Juliandra watched him take another swig of the pear cider, quickly, as if realizing he’d said something he probably shouldn’t have. But she didn’t mind, in truth.

  Were it not up to her father, she might like to remain here forever, too.

  “Do you plan to stay here forever, then?” she asked. “What I mean to say is that you have three other castles that surely require your attention. Do you plan to abandon them?”

  He shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “I will go back to Trelystan, someday. That is the biggest fortress. I will establish a garrison here with a garrison commander, possibly Gareth or Bannon.”

  Juliandra knew both of those knights. She’d spoken to Bannon more than Gareth, who always seemed to be out on patrol. While Bannon was a big, older knight, Gareth was young and very handsome, but very mysterious. He never said much, but it was clear that he was someone who could be intimidating if the need arose.

  “What do you plan to do for the rest of your life, Kevin?” she asked, sipping on her own cider. “I mean, now you are the Lord of Wybren. Arglwydd yr awyr. But this is not all your life is meant to be. Surely there is more?”

  He knew what she meant. Truth be told, he’d been wrestling with the same thing. As the evening deepened and the minstrels kept on with their songs, all Kevin could see or hear was Juliandra.

  What do you plan to do for the rest of your life?

  He knew what he wanted to do.

  Whether or not that happened would be up to her.

  “My life has been preordained,” he said after a moment. “Or, so I thought. Every son of a noble house faces the same future – preordained by his family. In my family, I was the second son. My brother would inherit everything and I was content to serve, to follow. With my brother marrying an heiress, that future has changed considerably. Now, I find myself with the de Lara empire resting on my shoulders while my brother builds his own legacy with Bath and Glastonbury.”

  “And you will build your own legacy here?”

  “Of course,” he said. “I will marry and have sons to carry on my legacy and the de Lara name. But I respect my ancestors and where they came from. The ancestor who came to these shores with the Anges de Guerre was a nobleman of Aragon heritage, though he was from Gascon. He was the Count du Boucau and a branch of the de Lara family still holds that title. My ancestor’s name was Luc and I always intended to name my firstborn son Luc.”

  “Luc,” Juliandra repeated, rolling it over her tongue. “I like that name. It is strong.”

  Kevin stared at her a moment before breaking out into a grin. “Then I shall have to marry you because you have already agreed to the name,” he said. “I fear another woman might not be so agreeable. Tell me, Juliandra, how serious is your betrothal to this Aeron ap Gruffudd?”

  Juliandra wasn’t sure if he was serious or not, but she went along with it. She shook her head. “I told you that we are not betrothed,” she said. “Aeron simply thinks we are and tells everyone who will listen.”

  “Then he would more than likely attack Wybren if I married you.”

  She looked at him; really looked at him. He was talking more than she’d ever heard him, not exactly rambling on, but not exactly his usual controlled self. He had a cup of the pear cider in his hand, which was strong, so she was fairly certain it was the drink that had loosened his tongue. Was he speaking of things in his heart that he was too afraid to speak of when he was sober?

  Was it too good to hope for?

  Her giddy self was about to overwhelm her common sense.

  Hadn’t she just been thinking about marrying Kevin earlier in the day? Hadn’t she just been musing about it, knowing her father would never permit it? She was trying to remain level-headed about the situation, but she was rapidly losing ground. She’d only come to Wybren to seek her father’s release.

  She’d never come to stay.

  Or fall in love with a handsome English knight.

  … hadn’t she?

  “He would not go away easily if that is what you are asking,” she finally said. “But this is all purely talk, Kevin. You are not serious about marrying me, so do not tease me so.”

  He frowned. “Who says I am not?”

  “Are you?”

  It was the question she’d been dying to ask, now presented. It hung in the air between them. Kevin had been leaning towards her on his chair, close to her because he’d wanted to be. But with that question presented, he leaned back on the other side of the chair, eyeing her because the one part of his brain that wasn’t drunk told him to watch himself.

  Be careful.

  The trouble was that he wasn’t listening to his sober self.

  He was going to be reckless.

  “Let us say that I am,” he said. “For argument’s sake, would you be agreeable?”

  It was like a game of chess – he would make one move, she would make another. The light tone of the conversation was becoming more serious now, but Juliandra wasn’t afraid of it. She was agreeable. At least, she thought she was. She thought she might be very happy being married to a handsome English knight, a man as gentle and trustworthy as Kevin.

  A large part of her wanted to indulge in that fantasy, just for a moment.

  “It is only a giddy maiden’s dream,” she said, finally looking away. “Whether or not I was agreeable means nothing. It is my father you would have to ask and I know what he would say. He would deny you because he does not want his daughter to be married to a warlord, or an Englishman, which makes little sense to me given that my mother was English, from Rochester. My father met her when he was traveling home from France many years ago. My grandfather is English, though I’ve not seen him since my mother died.”

  Kevin had known that, for she’d told him the first night they’d met. “Does Aeron know that you are half-English?”

  She shrugged. “I do not know,” she said honestly. “It is not a great secret, as there are many in this area who knew my mother, but I do not know if he knows.”

  Kevin leaned in her direction again, very close to her left shoulder. He found himself studying her, the graceful curve of her neck, the way her lashes fanned out when she blinked. He was becoming more enchanted by the second and it had nothing to do with that seductive cider.

  “Do you always do what your father says?” he asked quietly.

  She looked at him in surprise, not at all distressed that he was so close to her. She could feel the heat from his body and her heart began to race. “Didn’t you?”

  She had him. He chuckled. “My life and career have been built on obedience,” he said. “But that’s just me. I am not you, and your brother did not obey your father. He is probably happy with his older wife. He is probably very glad he disobeyed his father.”

  “I will be sure to ask him when I see him.”

  She was eyeing him with some disapproval for bringing up her brother
since that was her family’s sad folly, but he didn’t back down.

  “I hope you do,” he said. “Ask him if he would have been happier obeying the man, sitting alone and wondering about the life that could have been with the woman he loved, or if he is happier living his life with the woman he chose.”

  Juliandra knew what he was driving at, that perhaps obeying one’s parent risked personal happiness, but he was rambling somewhat drunkenly. Not hugely, but enough to be noticeable. After a moment, she simply shook her head.

  “Burke was young and inexperienced,” she said. “Surely you have more wisdom than he did. Sometimes we cannot always have what we want.”

  “I would not know. There hasn’t been anything I wanted badly enough, personally, to fight for it.”

  “But you fought for William Marshal,” she said. “Surely, you fought for things that were important to you.”

  He shrugged, taking another drink of that potent cider. “My beliefs were my own, but I fought for a man I was sworn to,” he said. “I fought whomever he told me to fight. But I cannot ever remember fighting for something that personally meant something to me. I’ve always been a tool for others. Never for myself.”

  There was something sad in that declaration. At least, Juliandra thought so. Kevin was a career knight, but that career had always been devoted to others. Never to himself.

  Until now.

  “You are the Lord of the Trilaterals,” she said. “I am sure, at some point, you will fight for something personal, for something you believe in or something you wish to keep as your own. Or mayhap you will fight for peace. That is a noble cause, is it not?”

  Kevin was lingering on the fact that he’d always done everyone else’s bidding and never his own. He’d been right when he told Juliandra that he’d always been a tool, someone who followed orders more than gave them.

  But that had changed.

  “Peace is always the noble cause,” he said, struggling to focus on her question. “My family has always fought for peace and victory. It is a way of life. But to be truthful, I’d like a little less fighting and a little more peace. I cannot recall when I’ve enjoyed it at any stretch. You told me that you’d never experienced a battle. That is all I’ve ever known.”