Epic Knights of Legend and Steel

Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE

H e wasn’t sure if there was actually pounding on the door or if it was simply the pounding in his head. Tiberius was trying to sleep, trying to ignore the massive headache that was throbbing against his forehead, but the pounding on the door assured him that he could no longer sleep. Someone was not only pounding on the door but they were calling his name. Frustrated, and ill, he struggled to lift his head.

“Enough!” he roared to whomever was doing the pounding. “I am awake.”

The voice on the other side of the door was muffled. “Lord Gallus requests your presence in the armory,” someone said. “He requests it now.”

Tiberius braced a hand against the wall next to the bed as he pushed himself into a sitting position. His head hurt so badly that he was sure it was about to explode and send brains and blood all over the floor. Surprisingly, it didn’t burst, although he fervently wished it would. Perhaps it would relieve the pressure. He was in more pain than he’d been in for quite some time. He wasn’t one to overindulge, at least not as much as he had last night, so he was rather angry at himself for having imbibed too much. Now, he was paying the price.

He was also angry at himself for another reason. Oddly enough, he could remember certain things he said the previous night. He remembered telling de Moray that Lady Douglass belonged to him since he had saved her from de Montfort’s assassins. Bits and pieces of memories came back to him, like weeping for his mother, but the rest of it was mostly a blur. He didn’t like the blur, fearful of what else he had said in his inebriated state. Drunken men usually said embarrassing and odd things, and he had a feeling that he had utterly humiliated himself in front of Lady Douglass. With a grunt of absolute pain, he stood up unsteadily from the bed.

More pounding on the door startled him, shooting bolts of pain through his head and he nearly fell over with it all. The soldier sent to deliver Gallus’ message called to him again and Tiberius angrily chased the man away, assuring him that if he caught him on the other side of the door when he opened it, then he would promise the man pain of his own. The soldier ran off as Tiberius yanked open his door.

Hand on his head, Tiberius staggered from the chamber. His usual custom in the morning was to sing at the top of his lungs. He did it almost every morning to the point where Maximus would become enraged and try to shut him up. Prior to marrying Courtly, Maximus had been known to throw punches in order to quiet him down, but since marrying his lovely bride, the man would simply sit and stew and throw punches when his wife wasn’t looking. It was fairly amazing how marriage had changed the man.

But Tiberius wasn’t thinking about marriage at the moment and he certainly wasn’t about to sing. He was thinking on Lady Douglass and how he needed to apologize to her for his drunken antics. In fact, it was nearly the only thing on his mind. As he took the stairs down to the first floor, he could hear Violet and Lily and the barking of their dogs. He could also hear Courtly and Jeniver as they went about their chores for the day, instructing the servants to wash bed linens on this day and clean the floors.

As Tiberius reached the landing, he could see his nieces playing with the dogs, the very big, black Taranis and the equally leggy Henry the hound. When the girls saw him, they squealed and ran to him happily, but he refrained from picking them up because it hurt his head too much to bend over. But Violet wouldn’t be put off so he ended up picking her up, groaning in pain as he did so. The sounds of pain he was emitting had the attention of Courtly and Jeniver.

Courtly emerged from what used to be Lady Honey’s chamber. Now, it belonged to Courtly and Maximus. When Courtly saw her brother-in-law, she grinned.

“I am surprised to see that you are up and moving,” she said. “I thought for sure you would spend the day in bed.”

Tiberius couldn’t even shake his head to refute her statement. The action hurt too much. He rubbed his bloodshot eyes. “Gallus has summoned me, ’else I would surely still be sleeping,” he muttered, setting Violet on her feet because holding the girl hurt his head. “I would assume your husband has been summoned as well?”

Courtly nodded, thinking it quite humorous that Tiberius looked so terrible. He also smelled horrible. “He has already gone to Gallus,” she said. Then, she eyed the man carefully. “I am afraid to ask how you are feeling.”

Tiberius grunted. “How do you think?” he said grumpily. “I feel as if my head is about to pound right off of my shoulders.”

Courtly laughed softly. “Then let it be a lesson to you to never again drink so much of that devil cider,” she said. “That stuff has fallen many a man here at Isenhall.”

Tiberius rubbed his eyes again. “I will never touch it again,” he swore softly. Then, he looked at her, blinking his red eyes. “I am afraid to ask just how much I embarrassed myself.”

Courtly sobered a bit. “Maximus removed you before you did too much damage.”

“But I did embarrass myself.”

She shrugged. “It was the drink. Everyone knows that.”

He grunted, unhappy. “I knew it,” he said. “I made an arse out of myself in front of Lady Douglass and her father, didn’t I? Something about Lady Douglass belonging to me because I saved her?”

Courtly was trying not to laugh. “You were quite adamant about it.”

Tiberius was feeling increasingly miserable. “Has de Moray left yet?”

Courtly shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “He is breaking his fast with Lady Douglass and Garran in the great hall. Jeniver and I were going to join them shortly. Will you come?”

Tiberius looked at her, thoughts of Lady Douglass rolling through his pain-hazed mind. Strangely enough, even though he knew he said that she belonged to him, he didn’t regret it. At the time, he truly meant it, and now… well, he meant it still but he knew it was an unreasonable assumption. However, he was sorry that he had spouted off so and he wanted to tell Lady Douglass that without her father or brother hanging about. He would apologize to them as well, but for the lady… he wanted to apologize privately.

“Not at the moment,” he said. “I want you to do something for me.”

Courtly nodded. “Anything. What is it?”

Tiberius hesitated. “Will you bring Lady Douglass to the solar?” he finally asked. “I fear… I fear that I must make apologies to her for my behavior last night and I wish to do it in private. I am sure her father will not let her meet with me, alone, so I would ask that you bring her to me. De Moray will let her go with you as an escort.”

Courtly’s blue eyes twinkled. “You want to see her alone?”

“Aye.”

Courtly regarded him a moment. “Tiberius de Shera, if you want to see her alone to do something unseemly, then I will have no part of it.”

He waved her off. “Nay, I swear it,” he said. “Nothing unseemly. I simply wish to apologize to her. Will you please help me?”

Courtly’s gaze held steady on him. Her brother-in-law was a bit of a rake and quite randy with the women. He flirted and he conquered, and under normal circumstances she would not have trusted the man alone with a lady. But there was something in his manner that told her this situation was different. She didn’t know why, but there was something about him that was unusual for Tiberius. Could it possibly be the very real trappings of humility? For once, did he truly wish to apologize to a woman for his actions? She wondered.

“Very well,” she agreed. “But under one condition.”

“Name it.”

She put her fingers to her nose. “That you bathe yourself,” she said. “You smell like a barn animal. Go and bathe yourself this very minute or I will not summon the lady. I would be ashamed to.”

Tiberius sniffed himself, realizing that he did smell rather bad, although he’d known that for days. He hadn’t cared until this moment. If it would get him what he wanted, he would do what he was told.

There was a room off to the side of the kitchen that was used for bathing with a massive copper tub that was half-buried in the floor. Once, the tub had been used to strip carcasses but over the years, the men of Isenhall realized it was big enough to bathe their rather enormous bodies in and that was where they did their bathing these days, close to the kitchen and close to an endless source of hot water.

Tiberius made his way down to this room, ducking through the doorway to enter the low-ceilinged chamber. He’d passed through the kitchen on his way and told the cook what his intentions were, so there were already servants bringing forth hot water from a supply that was usually kept simmering off to the side of the enormous kitchen hearth. The cook’s husband, a big man with a round belly and no teeth, began filling up the big, copper tub with buckets of hot water, splashing some of it on the floor as Tiberius began to undress.

As the hot water went in, the clothes came off. Truthfully, Tiberius couldn’t remember when he had last bathed or even changed his clothes, so he asked the cook’s husband to remove his soiled clothing to be boiled and told the man to bring him some fresh clothing. All the while, his head throbbed and he knew that Gallus would be angry that he was ignoring the man’s summons by taking the time to bathe, but he didn’t much care. He had priorities in his life and sometimes those differed from Gallus’. For now, his priorities were of more importance to him. He needed to speak with Lady Douglass before her father took her away, perhaps forever. Gallus would have to wait.

Tiberius plunged into the tub that was half-full with hot water. He hooted and gasped, as the hot water made his head throb even more, but it didn’t matter. In a way, it actually felt good, and after splashing water all over himself, he grabbed a horsehair brush and a bar of white, lumpy soap that smelled of rosemary and went to work. Lathering up the brush with the white, milky froth from the soap, he scrubbed himself from his feet all the way up to his hair.

The cook’s husband came back into the room bearing clean clothing and Tiberius had the man hunt down a razor so he could shave. Carefully, with a very sharp razor and a bronze mirror, Tiberius shaved his face clean. In the reflection of the mirror, he could see that his hair was rather long, hanging in his eyes, so he had the cook’s husband cut several inches from his hair with the same razor he’d used to shave his face. His hair, now much shorter, kinked up in dark curls all around his face, but at least it was out of his eyes. Rinsing himself off one last time, he climbed out of the tub and dried off with a big piece of linen that was used for just that purpose.

Still damp, he pulled on leather breeches and a big, linen tunic. His feet, now clean, went back into his heavy, leather boots. As he made his way from the small, bathing room and back through the kitchens, he stuck his fingers in his wet ears, trying to dry them out, and ran his hands through his hair several times as he attempted to dry it somewhat. He was just moving towards the stairs that led to the upper levels to tell Courtly that he was prepared to meet Lady Douglass when a soft voice from the solar caught his attention.

He was somewhat surprised to see Lady Douglass standing in the solar archway, smiling rather timidly at him. In the early morning light that was filling the chamber, he could see how glorious she was. Clad in a deep purple surcoat of very soft wool, the garment had a square neck and tight bodice that emphasized the woman’s curvaceous figure. And her hair… all of that marvelous, curly, golden-red hair, framed her like a dance of light. The sun glistened off it, creating bursts of stars. Tiberius saw all of this and more as he approached the woman. He met her smile, nearly as timid as hers.

“My lady,” he greeted politely. “You are looking quite lovely this morning.”

Douglass’ smile turned modest. “Thank you, my lord,” she said, lowering her gaze coyly. “Lady Courtly said you wished to speak to me.”

Tiberius’ smile faded. Forgetting his throbbing head, all he could focus on was the woman in front of him, more glorious than he had remembered her. At that moment, he knew that he could not let her go to London to meet her prospective husband. He wasn’t sure how he was going to intervene, but he knew that he had to. He’d never felt like this for a woman, not ever. Aye, he was interested in her, but this went beyond mere conquest or lust. There was something more to it, although he wasn’t sure what that could be. All he knew was that he felt it, whatever it was, and it consumed him.

“Please,” he said softly, indicating the big table a few feet away. “Will you sit?”

Silently, Douglass complied and perched herself on a bench at the corner of the table as Tiberius towered over her, staring down at her. Realizing that he was, in fact, towering over the woman, Tiberius quickly sat at the end of the table, next to her. His gaze never left her face.

“Did… did you sleep well, my lady?” he asked politely.

Douglass nodded. “I did, indeed,” she replied. “There is something very strong and peaceful about Isenhall but I awoke to a very noisy bird perched on my window. He awoke me before dawn.”

Tiberius grinned. “Show this bird to me and I will punish him,” he said with feigned gallantry. “How dare the bird disrupt your slumber.”

Douglass laughed softly and Tiberius was again enchanted by her bright smile. “I chased him off, I assure you.”

Tiberius laughed because she was. She could have been laughing at anything and, still, he would have laughed. Her smile was infectious.

“I do not doubt it,” he said. “As I saw yesterday, you are a very brave woman and unafraid to wield a weapon. It is an admirable quality.”

Douglass sobered, gazing into Tiberius’ freshly-washed face. He was clean and shaven, his hair even cut, and she thought that perhaps he was the most handsome man on the face of the earth. Truly, she had never seen finer.

“I suppose I should thank you for your kind words,” she said, “but I am not sure wielding a weapon in the face of someone who is trying to do you a good deed is an admirable quality. You are kind to say so, however.”

He shook his head. “I was not trying to illicit another apology from you for whacking me on the head,” he assured her. “I was simply making an observation. You are a remarkable and beautiful woman.”

Douglass’ cheeks flushed and she lowered her gaze. “Thank you, my lord.”

Tiberius watched her as she averted her gaze, studying every hair on her head, the angle of her cheeks, and the soft pout of her lips. He was becoming more infatuated by the moment. He would have been content to stare at her all day except he knew their time was limited. He had to say what needed to be said before de Moray dragged her off to London. London! God’s Bones, he didn’t want to see her go.

“Well,” he said finally, thinking on what he needed to say. “In truth, I did not wish to see you alone to pay homage to your beauty or, at least, that is not the only reason. I wanted to apologize for my behavior last night. It has come to my attention that I may or may not have embarrassed myself in front of you with my excessive drinking. If I offended you, then I must apologize. I am deeply sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

Douglass’ head came back up and she looked at him, smiling. “You did not offend me,” she assured him, “although I appreciate your apology. Rest assured, however, that you did not insult me in the least.”

“You are certain?”

“I am.”

Tiberius breathed a sigh of relief. “Then I am at ease,” he said, running his fingers through his damp hair again. “I thought for certain that I had left you with a terrible lasting impression of me.”

Douglass shook her head. “You did not,” she said. “In fact, you were quite humorous at times. You told my father that I belonged to you because you had saved me from de Montfort’s assassins.”

Tiberius watched her giggle, thinking that perhaps he should play into that subject a bit. Perhaps if it was done in jest, he could determine if the woman had any interest in him. He was willing to take the chance.

“You do,” he insisted, although it was clear he was teasing. “I saved you and therefore you belong to me. When shall we wed?”

Douglass’ laughter grew. “I think you should speak to my father first.”

Tiberius scowled. “I would rather marry you first and ask forgiveness later. Your father cannot become overly angry with me once I marry you. Surely he would not kill the father of his grandchildren?”

Douglass snorted. “So we have children already, do we?”

Tiberius shrugged as if it were the most logical thing in the world. “Of course,” he said. “I would say six to ten sons would be sufficient, and mayhap a daughter or two so you will not feel entirely lonely in a house full of men.”

She smirked wryly. “Thank you, kind sir.”

He grinned broadly. “You are welcome, my future wife,” he said. Then, he was back to scowling, only this time, he was rather serious about it. “Tell me of this man your father intends to betroth you to. Who must I fight for your hand?”

Douglass wondered just how serious he was. Much like he was doing, she decided to play the game to see, in fact, if his interest was serious. If he wasn’t serious, then she could claim she was teasing. But in her heart of hearts, she prayed that the man was sincere. It might break her heart if he wasn’t.

“He comes from a very fine Cornwall family,” she said. “His name is Tallis d’Vant and he hails from St. Austell Castle. I know that he is twenty-seven years of age and that he has been in the service of the king since he was very young. His father is Dennis d’Vant of the Cornwall d’Vants. His mother is a cousin to the king.”

That is tremendous competition, Tiberius thought. But no matter. “It sounds as if he is a fine match,” he said. “But I have decided this man shall not have you.”

Douglass lifted her auburn eyebrows. “Is that so?” she said. “What do you intend to do about it?”

Tiberius snorted arrogantly. “I told you. I will fight him for you, of course,” he said. “Then your father will have to give you to me.”

Douglass laughed quietly. “I hear that Tallis d’Vant is a very fine knight,” she said. “His father is a very fine knight. He may put up a good fight.”

Tiberius looked at her. “I am The Thunder Knight,” he said. “There is no finer fighter or tactician in all of England. As good as d’Vant is, he will fall to me, mark my words.”

“Then you know of him?”

“I have heard of him.”

Douglass studied Tiberius a moment. He was jesting mostly, that was true, but there was a seed of truth in his behavior. Perhaps his declaration that she belonged to him was, indeed, the truth. Like a game of strategy, a great game of chess that would decide her future, Douglass made the next tactical move in the conversation. The stakes were growing very high, indeed.

“Then you shall not have to face him,” she said. “We shall be married today. I will run off with you this very moment and defy my father. Will you take us to the nearest priest?”

Tiberius looked at her with surprise. “Now?”

“Now.”

He blinked, considering her proposal. “Would you truly marry me?”

“Would you truly marry me ?”

“I would.”

She lifted her eyebrows again. “Then know this,” she said. “If I marry you, there will be no more women for you. I do not share and any infidelity from you would be unhappily and mayhap even violently met. I would haunt you until the end of your days, which would be sooner than you think should you betray me. Now, do you still wish to marry me?”

Tiberius was looking at her with a slight grin on his face. “The moment I met you, all other women in the world ceased to exist for me,” he said softly, all of the jesting gone from his tone. “Would you truly have such a sinner as me for your husband? If you would, then I can promise you that you would never regret it. You, and only you, would always be my forever.”

The light, teasing tone that they had so recently enjoyed had vanished, replaced by something sweet and warm and thrilling. Douglass’ breath caught in her throat. For a moment, as she gazed into his eyes, she forgot to draw in air. It was as if time itself had stopped, just for that moment. In that instance, she knew he felt the same way for her that she did for him. There was interest. There was hope.

It was the truth.

“And you would be mine,” she whispered.

Tiberius grinned a bright, dazzling smile that lit up his entire face. But the moment he moved to take her hand, Courtly suddenly appeared in the doorway. She headed directly for Douglass, reaching down to snatch the woman away.

“Come along, my lady,” she said rather urgently. “I saw your father out in the bailey from my window. He will be looking for you and more than likely should not find you alone with Tiberius.”

Douglass leapt up, following Courtly even though her gaze was on Tiberius. “Will… will you come to the hall, Sir Tiberius?” she asked, not wanting to let the man out of her sight, not even for a moment. “Have you broken your fast yet?”

Tiberius stood up from his seat, feeling the throbbing in his head begin again. But, much like Douglass, he didn’t want to be separated from her. However, Gallus was expecting him and he was already late. Torn, he suspected he needed to find Gallus before he joined the guests in the hall. If he didn’t, Gallus would come looking for him and the results could be quite unhappy.

“I have not yet,” he told her. “I will come as soon as I can. Please do not leave before I have had a chance to bid my farewells.”

Douglass was scooting along with Courtly as the woman threw open the entry door. “I will not leave,” she told him. “I promise, we will not leave before you come.”

That was good enough for Tiberius. Smiling gently, he waved to Douglass as Courtly led the woman out of the keep. He followed her trail to the doorway, standing there and watching as Courtly and Douglass met Bose in the middle of the bailey. After a brief discussion, the three of them headed back into the hall. Tiberius watched Douglass’ red head until it disappeared from view.

You will always be my forever. He had meant every word. God’s Bones, he never realized how much he meant them until this very moment.

He had finally found his forever.

*

In the bright, beautiful, early morning hours, Maximus found Gallus sitting in the armory of Isenhall with an unrolled piece of parchment in his hands. Gallus had received the missive at dawn and, after reading it, sent for both of his brothers to join him. Even though the knights were up and going about their duties, and Bose de Moray and his family were in the great hall breaking their fast before continuing on their journey, Gallus had only requested the company of his brothers. There were serious dealings afoot, according to the missive he’d received from de Montfort, and he wanted his brothers to be the first to know.

“Good morn,” Maximus greeted his brother as he entered the dim, cool armory that smelled strongly of leather and dirt. “You summoned me?”

Gallus nodded, his features drawn and tense. “Where is Ty?”

Maximus shook his head. “I have not yet seen him,” he replied. “He is probably still drunk from all of the cider he consumed last night. Shall I go and rouse him?”

“Nay,” Gallus said, looking at the parchment in his hand. “I sent a soldier for him. He will be here.”

Maximus couldn’t help but notice that Gallus was focused on the rolled parchment in his hand. He could see the broken seal on it and flashes of carefully-scripted writing when Gallus unrolled it again to look at it.

“What is that?” Maximus finally asked. “Who sent the missive?”

Gallus was reading it again. He’d already read it no less than ten times that morning but he was reading it still again. He sighed heavily, his focus still on the yellowed, brittle parchment.

“It is from de Montfort,” he said. “It was sent from Kenilworth this morning.”

Maximus lifted his eyebrows. Kenilworth was a little more than an hour’s ride from Isenhall to the west. “De Montfort is at Kenilworth?” he asked. “Last I heard, he was traveling the south of England to drum up support.”

Gallus nodded. “I know,” he said quietly. “Evidently, he has drummed up quite a bit of support, mayhap more support than he bargained for.”

Maximus leaned back against the stone wall, folding his big arms across his chest. “What do you mean?”

Gallus held out the missive to Maximus, who took it and unrolled it, reading it carefully and slowly as Gallus spoke.

“Henry’s son and heir, Prince Edward, is apparently siding with de Montfort now,” he said. Then, he shook his head, baffled. “I cannot believe I just said that. It is preposterous at the very least, but Simon assures me that it is true. That is Simon’s signature on the missive. Therefore, it must be true.”

Maximus looked at his brother, shocked, before returning his focus to the parchment. “Simon wants us to come to Kenilworth immediately,” he said, lifting his eyes to his brother again. “Edward must be there. He wants us to meet with the prince.”

Gallus shook his head, unhappy and unnerved by the entire happenstance. “Edward is the next king of England,” he said flatly. “Does de Montfort not realize this? Edward is a brutal warrior and a man of great vision. He will rule England with an iron fist and facilitate absolute rule, whereupon de Montfort’s efforts for change will be destroyed. Everything we are working towards now will be destroyed. I do not want to go to Kenilworth and listen to Edward’s lies.”

“What about Edward?”

Tiberius’s voice was heard as the man entered the armory, smelling like rosemary soap and clean-shaven. In fact, he looked quite different, causing both Gallus and Maximus to take notice. Gallus reached out and tugged on the sleeve of the tunic Tiberius was wearing.

“Isn’t that mine?” he asked, suspicious. “My wife made that for me. What are you doing in my clothing?”

Tiberius pursed his lips wryly. “I had nothing else that was clean to wear, my dearest love,” he said. “What would you have me do? Walk about nude until my clothing has been cleaned and dried? I am sure that would impress the women of Isenhall deeply. It would cause them to realize how inadequate you two are as husbands and they will lament the fact that they should have married me instead.”

Gallus grinned in spite of the insult as Maximus rolled his eyes. “I’ve not yet had the need to measure my manhood but I would wager it is better than yours.”

Tiberius scoffed arrogantly. “It is not better than mine,” he said. “Mine satisfies a woman as food satisfies the hungry. We are speaking of a massive side of beef as compared to your tiny, pork sausage.”

Maximus burst out laughing as Gallus cut his brother an intolerant expression. “Mine is better than yours for one good reason,” Gallus said. “It will produce the next Earl of Coventry. You and your inadequate manhood cannot make the same claim.”

Tiberius shrugged, conceding the argument at that point. He pointed to the missive in Maximus’ hands.

“What is that?” he asked, changing the subject. “And what about Edward? I heard his name mentioned as I came in.”

They went back to the subject at hand. Gallus took the parchment away from Maximus and looked at it again. He made no move to give it to Tiberius because the man was a terrible reader. He mixed words up or misplaced them entirely, so he was never given anything to read. Something happened between Tiberius’ eyes and his mind that twisted everything around when he was reading or figuring mathematics.

One would have thought Tiberius was dumb but for the fact he retained knowledge that was verbally relayed to him as tightly as a vault. He could visualize numbers in a way that wasn’t normal, but he could still figure the most complex mathematics in his mind and come out correct. And, much like Maximus, Tiberius could recall conversations, events, or facts from years prior or two minutes ago– his total recall was infallible. Unlike Maximus, however, Tiberius didn’t see only two sides to a coin or to a situation. Maximus’ world was black and white, with nothing in between. Tiberius, however, could see all colors of a situation with great clarity. In that capacity, he was invaluable. The man was clearly not dumb. He was the most brilliant of all three of them.

“This missive is from de Montfort,” Gallus told him. “Apparently, Prince Edward, the king’s heir, has joined de Montfort’s cause and de Montfort has summoned us to Kenilworth immediately to discuss it.”

Tiberius’ eyes widened with surprise. “Edward?” he repeated. “The man has withdrawn support of his own father?”

Against the wall, Maximus grunted. “It is as Gallus said,” he said quietly. “If Edward inherits the throne from his father at this moment, he will have to deal with the Savoyard and Poitevin element that Henry has allowed into this country, greedy Frenchmen who are soaking up English properties for themselves. Edward wants them out of England as badly as we do, I would suspect. Siding with de Montfort will gain him what he wants.”

Tiberius knew all of that but the reality was still shocking. He shook his head, hissing. “I do not like this,” he muttered. “Edward has properties in Gascony he is having trouble with. Mayhap he wants de Montfort’s help with those, which means we could quite possibly be sent to France to fight Edward’s wars. Throwing his support behind de Montfort will indebt de Montfort to him. He could easily ask for the man’s help.”

Gallus couldn’t argue the fact. “If that is the case, then I do not want to fight for a greedy prince,” he said. “I will threaten de Montfort with changing loyalties if he intends to send us to France. England needs us right now and I’ll not spend my time or resources in France fighting for a futile cause.”

Maximus nodded in agreement. “Nor I,” he said firmly. “Let de Montfort send someone else to France if he will pledge support for Edward there. I will fight in England for Henry before I will fight in France for Edward.”

The armory fell silent a moment as each man pondered the course of the immediate future. With Prince Edward siding with de Montfort, things were uncertain indeed. But the thought of Edward inevitably brought on thoughts of Henry and, along with him, thoughts of de Moray, who was a great supporter of the king. Tiberius looked to Gallus.

“I wonder if de Moray knows any of this,” he ventured quietly.

Gallus shrugged. “My guess is that he does not,” he said. “For his own sake, I should tell him. The man needs to know who his allies and enemies are and if Edward’s loyalties have indeed shifted, then de Moray must know.”

Maximus sighed with resignation. “When do we leave for Kenilworth?”

Gallus glanced at the parchment in his hand. “He has summoned us immediately so I imagine he wants us at Kenilworth today, tomorrow at the latest,” he said, moving to the armory doorway and gazing out across Isenhall’s bailey. This was his empire, what he was fighting and living for. He thought of Jeniver and the son she carried. He thought of a world with no conflicts, only peace. It seemed like a dream to him. He wondered if it was something he would ever truly see. “Be ready to leave by dawn tomorrow. I am not overly anxious to leave my wife today.”

Thoughts of a wife brought about thoughts of Douglass to Tiberius. He fervently wished that he had a wife to leave behind, that he had her to leave behind. As Gallus moved to leave the armory with the intention of speaking to de Moray, Tiberius stopped him.

“Wait, Gallus, please,” he said hesitantly, eyeing both brothers as they looked at him curiously. Suddenly, he felt rather embarrassed and uncertain but he charged on anyway. “I… I wanted to apologize for embarrassing you last night. I am afraid the cider loosened my tongue far more than I would have liked.”

Both Gallus and Maximus grinned at the change of subject. “Apologize to Max if you must,” Gallus said, pointing to the middle brother. “He was the one who suffered when he took you back to your chamber.”

Maximus was waving him off even as Tiberius turned to him. “It is not even worth mentioning,” Maximus said. “I seem to remember you taking care of me once or twice when wine had gotten the better of me.”

Tiberius smiled weakly at the memories of a drunk and combative Maximus, a fearsome beast indeed. Maximus was the meanest drunkard he had ever seen. “It was no trouble,” Tiberius said. “You are my brother. It is my duty to take care of you.”

Maximus nodded his head firmly. “And I, you,” he said. “You were no trouble at all, really. Well, except when you were telling de Moray that you wanted his daughter. You were quite adamant about it.”

Tiberius’ smile faded. “I know,” he said. “I remember that part.”

Maximus was mildly astonished. “You do?” he asked. “That is surprising considering the amount of cider you had consumed. I think de Moray has forgotten about it, however, so you are safe.”

Tiberius emitted a heavy sigh. “Nay, I am not.”

“Why?”

Tiberius was having difficulty looking his brothers in the eye. “Because it was not the cider forcing my words last eve,” he said quietly. “I… I am not even sure how to speak on this subject. I rescued a woman who beat me, fought me, argued with me, yet for all of that, she is on my mind like no other woman has ever been and I cannot seem to shake her. At first, I thought I was simply interested in another conquest but now… now I am not so sure. All I know is that I do not want her going to London where a potential husband is waiting for her. I do not want her out of my sight.”

That softly uttered confession brought Gallus back into the armory. Both Gallus and Maximus closed in on Tiberius, their expressions laced with both disbelief and humor.

“Is this true, Ty?” Gallus asked as if he hadn’t heard his rakish brother correctly. “You have feelings for Garran’s sister?”

Tiberius was feeling embarrassed and confused and joyful, all at the same time. “It is possible,” he said. “I do not want her leaving for London. Can we keep her here somehow?”

Gallus looked at Maximus, both men shrugging at a seemingly impossible endeavor. “I do not know much about de Moray’s contract with her potential husband,” Gallus said. “I suppose I could ask him if you are truly serious about her. Are you serious, Ty? Are you certain she is not meant to be another one of your conquests? To do that would sorely damage the relationship between the House of de Moray and the House of de Shera. Surely you know that.”

Tiberius nodded. “I know,” he said quickly. “I assure you that is not my intent, at least not now. Mayhap it was yesterday but… but that is not my intent today. Something about the woman moves me in a way I’ve never known before. Is that what it is like to love someone?”

Maximus let out a hiss. “Love, is it?” he said. Then, he shook his head as if Tiberius were a fool. “You are speaking of something quite serious, Ty. You do not love someone so quickly. It takes time.”

Tiberius was looking at him. “How long did it take for you to know you loved Courtly?”

Maximus backed down a bit. “Well,” he said slowly, having difficulty looking Tiberius in the eye. “More than a day, in any case.”

Gallus was looking at Maximus rather drolly. “It took you exactly one day to declare your intentions for the woman,” he said. “Do not forget, I was there. We were all there. We know what you went through for Courtly. It is perfectly plausible that Ty is indeed feeling the first seeds of love, but be that as it may, the fact remains that Lady Douglass already has a suitor waiting for her in London. I would imagine that de Moray has already given the man his word and that will be a difficult bond to break.”

Tiberius knew that and struggled not to feel discouraged. “The suitor was picked by Henry himself,” he told them. “According to Lady Douglass, the knight Henry has selected for her is Tallis d’Vant.”

That drew a reaction from both Gallus and Maximus. “D’Vant?” Gallus repeated. “Of the Cornwall d’Vants?”

Tiberius nodded. “We all know who he is,” he said, sounding defeated. “He is a great knight in the arsenal of Henry’s armies. The man is well-connected and has a fine reputation.”

Maximus simply looked at Gallus. He would let his older brother handle this situation because it involved politics and that was Gallus’ strength. Maximus simply put a hand on Tiberius’ shoulder in a comforting gesture before turning away to ponder the situation. He didn’t want to tell his youngest brother that the situation was hopeless, but it sure sounded that way. As he wandered away, Gallus spoke.

“The House of d’Vant holds most of Cornwall,” he said. “As I recall, Tallis is the eldest son of the house, which means he will inherit it. That would be a position of prestige for Lady Douglass.”

Tiberius was starting to feel quite inadequate against Tallis d’Vant. “I have my own lordship,” he insisted. “I inherited Lord Lockhurst from grandfather and my lands produce an excellent income, plus Keresley Castle belongs to me. I am not a pauper.”

Gallus patted him on the shoulder to quiet him. “I know,” he said. “But you must admit that d’Vant and his Cornwall estates are rather attractive.”

Tiberius frowned. “Will you speak to de Moray on my behalf or not?”

Gallus was trying not to smile at his brother, who was being quite forceful about it. He honestly couldn’t tell if the man was being serious about his feelings or if it was just an infatuation he was dealing with. Knowing Tiberius, he tended to think it was the latter. Sighing heavily, he looked to Maximus.

“Well?” he asked him, rather shortly. “What do you think?”

Maximus was leaning against the cold wall of the armory, digesting everything that had been said. “I think we should not discourage him,” he said. “I know what it is like to fall in love with a woman on sight, so I cannot discount him completely. However, knowing our dear brother as I do, I am not entirely convinced that he has genuine feelings for the lady and the only way he is going to know is if he spends time with her.”

Gallus shook his head. “He cannot spend time with her if they are leaving for London today.”

“He can if he rides escort,” Maximus said, cocking an eyebrow to emphasize his suggestion. “I will ride on to Kenilworth to see what de Montfort has to say about Edward while you and Ty escort Lady Douglass and de Moray into London. It is foolish for de Moray to be traveling alone, anyway. He got into trouble with it so we shall ride with him to London to ensure he doesn’t get into any more trouble. It will be a perfect opportunity for Tiberius to speak with Lady Douglass further and determine if, in fact, it is not simply infatuation he is feeling.”

It was a reasonable plan. Gallus glanced at Tiberius’ hopeful face before returning his focus to Maximus. “And if it is not infatuation?” he asked. “What then?”

Maximus sobered. “Then you must speak to de Moray about Tiberius’ desire to court his daughter,” he said. “You are the only one who can do it, Gal. As the earl, you can offer much that d’Vant cannot.”

“Like what?”

Maximus scratched his neck in thought. “Ty already holds the Lockhurst lordship,” he said. “Tell de Moray that you will grant him the title of Viscount Sherborne to sweeten the deal against d’Vant.”

Gallus frowned. “Viscount Sherborne is a title for my son.”

Maximus cocked his head. “ If you have a son,” he said. “It is quite possible that Jeniver will have another girl. You asked my opinion, Gal. I am simply telling you what I think. Do nothing and let Tiberius stand on his own, then. He is a de Shera, after all. That would be enough for most men.”

With that, both brothers looked to Tiberius, who was coming to see that his battle for lovely Lady Douglass’ hand was to be uphill all the way. He pondered the situation seriously before speaking.

“I am willing to offer myself on my merits alone,” he said. “I am a de Shera and there is no need to sweeten the deal with more titles or promises of wealth. Let us send word to de Montfort that we shall join him in a few days at Kenilworth and then we will escort de Moray to London under the guise of protection. All three of us must ride together. We have never been separated and I do not wish for this to be the first time. Moreover, Maximus would be facing de Montfort’s wrath that all of us did not answer the summons and that is not fair to him. Therefore, either all of us go to London or none of us go. If that is the case that none of us goes, then I will have to figure another way to deal with the situation.”

Gallus’ gaze lingered on his youngest brother a moment before turning to Maximus. “Then we all go to London,” he said. “Agreed?”

Maximus nodded. “Agreed.”

Gallus returned his attention to Tiberius. “Then we all ride to London so that you may try to win over Lady Douglass,” he said. Then, he grew serious. “But I will say one thing, Ty. If you are simply out to toy with this woman, I will hold you down while de Moray beats you and then I will take a turn at you myself. Is that clear?”

Tiberius didn’t flinch. “Perfectly.”

“I am putting myself and my reputation on the line for you.”

“Understood. You will not be sorry.”

Gallus simply nodded, giving his brother a lingering look as he headed out of the armory. Maximus followed, giving Tiberius more of a sympathetic expression as he, too, stepped out into the mounting dawn.

Tiberius followed his brothers somewhat, pausing in the armory doorway and watching as the men headed for the great hall. So many things rolled through his mind at that moment; how fortunate he was to have such loyal brothers and how he truly didn’t want to let them down. Gallus was noble, Maximus was strong, and Tiberius very much wanted to be worthy of their loyalty and brotherly love.

Tiberius had spent the last several years of his life being rather careless and wild, but that wasn’t the kind of life he wanted to lead forever. There was a beautiful, red-haired woman in the hall that had managed to capture his spirit and he truly wanted to come to know her better, but not because he wanted to discover if she was worthy of him. He wanted to discover if he was worthy of her .

It was time for Tiberius de Shera to grow up.