Chapter Twelve #2
Once they reached the encampment, Curtis told her that he was sorry their journey had ended and thanked her for a pleasant ride.
Unused to any kind of flattery, Elle turned bright red, and he had simply laughed.
But he also took her hand and kissed her, leading her back to his tent, which was now technically a tent that belonged to both of them.
But he had only returned for a short while before he went off in search of his father to inform the man of his return.
And quite possibly to let him know that the marriage was finally agreeable.
Elle certainly thought it was.
The whole morning had been like a dream.
In fact, it was difficult to keep her mind on her task.
Her head was in the clouds. She was only half finished repacking Curtis’ trunk when she wandered to the tent flap, folding a pair of breeches, looking out over the encampment in the hopes of catching a glimpse of her new husband.
There was no husband, but she could see Christopher’s tent.
It was quite close, in truth, so it was easily in her field of vision.
That big blue tent with the blue and gold standards flying above it.
There were several soldiers milling about in front of the tent, and knights wandered in and out.
And that was when she saw it.
A knight dragging Melusine by the hair.
Shocked, Elle dropped the breeches in her hands and rushed out of the tent just as the knight and Melusine entered Hereford’s tent.
But instinct ran strong with her, the instinct to protect those she loved and the instinct to protect herself against the English, so she grabbed the nearest weapon she could find, which happened to be a piece of wood meant for Hereford’s fire.
There was a pile of it near his tent. She rushed toward the opening, only to hear someone shouting about capturing a spy. She could hear Melusine weeping.
When she burst in through the tent flap, Elle’s gaze fell on the man who had dragged Melusine by the hair as her cousin cowered on the ground at his feet.
Just as the man turned to look at her, startled that someone had come up behind him, Elle swung the wood at his head and bashed him in the face.
The knight, lashing out with his hands to defend himself, caught Elle in the jaw and sent her tumbling backward.
After that, it was chaos.
Elle was dazed as someone picked her up off the ground and took her out of the tent.
Someone else had grabbed Melusine. As Elle shook off the stars, she could see that it had been Hereford himself who took her out of the tent, but now he was rushing back into the shelter to prevent Curtis from killing the knight who had dragged Melusine by the hair.
There was shouting going on, and some pleading, and suddenly, the entire side of Hereford’s tent blew open as Curtis threw the half-conscious knight out of the tent.
Quite literally, the man had been flying through the air.
The tent stakes were still in the ground, but the fabric had torn as the knight hit the ground heavily.
As Elle watched in shock, Curtis went charging after the knight as his father jumped in to prevent any more damage from being done.
“No more,” Christopher commanded, holding Curtis back with help from Peter. “No more, Curt. Take your wife and cousin and get out of here. Go back to your tent. Please.”
Curtis was like a raging bull. Peter had him from behind, holding him back, but he wasn’t moving.
He was like a rock, hard and immovable. Roi, who had been bent over the knight on the ground, came over as well, and between Peter and Roi, they managed to push Curtis back in the direction of Elle, who was clutching Melusine.
One look at her husband’s face and she very nearly burst into tears.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m so very sorry. But he was hurting Melusine, and I had to stop him!”
When Curtis saw her face, something changed. He’d been rigid and flushed, but the moment he saw her, his expression loosened and he pulled away from his brothers. He went to her and put a gentle hand under her chin, tipping her face up to look at him.
“Did he hurt you?” he said, trying to get a look at any marks or bruises. “His strike was hard.”
She shook her head, but the tears were beginning to pool. “Please do not be angry with me,” she said. “I could not let him hurt Melly. He had her by the hair!”
Curtis was oddly calm for having been thoroughly enraged only moments earlier. “I know,” he said patiently, putting an arm around her and pulling her against him. “You are not to blame. He deserved it. But are you sure he did not injure you?”
It took Elle a few moments to realize that he wasn’t angry with her. He was angry with the knight. She was positive his fury was directed at her, and to realize it wasn’t brought a significant amount of shock.
She stared up at him.
“Nay, he did not injure me,” she said, rubbing the spot where he’d struck her. “You… you are not angry with me?”
He shook his head. “Of course not,” he said, but then he looked over to his father as Alexander and Roi were pulling the knight to his feet. “Get him out of my sight. If I see him again, I will kill him.”
Christopher put up a hand to ease his son, muttering something to Roi and Alexander. They half dragged, half walked the knight away, disappearing into the encampment. When he was gone, Christopher came over to Elle and looked her over.
“Did he hurt you, my lady?” he asked.
Elle was becoming perplexed that they were so concerned about her health. “Nay,” she said. “Melly hits harder than he does. Truly, I am well, but I suspect I’ll have a bruise.”
Christopher did the same thing Curtis had done—grasping her chin and tilting her head to get a look at the welt on the left side of her jaw and neck. He inspected the area before grunting unhappily.
“I will take Amaro back with me to Lioncross,” he said to Curtis. “I do not want him around your wife or her cousin, and, most importantly, I do not want him around you.”
Curtis barely nodded because the sight of the rising welt on Elle’s jaw was beginning to feed his anger again. “That is wise,” he said. “The man is fortunate he could walk away from this. If I had my way about it, he would not have.”
“I know,” Christopher said, holding up a hand to stop Curtis from saying anything further. “He will go with me. Meanwhile, you will need to select men to remain behind with you. Amaro was doing it. Or he was supposed to be doing it.”
“Let Myles do it,” Curtis said. “Where is he, anyway?”
Christopher looked off toward the south. “Mustering my army,” he said. “He and Andrew are seeing to it.”
“You are leaving Myles with me, are you not?”
“Aye, if you want him.”
“I do.”
“Are you leaving today, my lord?” Elle asked.
Christopher looked at her. “I am,” he said. “But I leave you, and Brython, in the capable hands of my son. But I’m sure you are already confident of that.”
He was smiling faintly, and something told Elle that Curtis had told his father that they had smoothed everything over last night.
Christopher could guess what that meant.
Flushing a deep shade of red, she simply bobbed her head and grasped Melusine before fleeing in the direction of Curtis’ tent.
When Curtis looked at his father, surprised by his wife’s swift departure, they both started laughing.
“She is a paradox, lad,” Christopher said. “She took that kindling after Amaro, but speak of something romantic and she runs away.”
Curtis was grinning. “Hopefully, not for long,” he said. “I hope that she will be comfortable with our marriage. I hope I will be, too.”
“From what you told me about last night, it seems that the rough edges have been smoothed a little,” Christopher said, studying Curtis’ face for any hint of what he might be thinking.
“What I did not tell you is that before Peter took her to find you, she came to speak with me. Peter and Sherry were here, so they heard it, too. She expressed her great regret at how she behaved with you and how she viewed things. I believe she wants to do better, Curt. I truly do.”
“As do I,” Curtis said. “I only told you that everything was well between us again, but I did not tell you that she apologized to me last night. She is caught between two worlds, Papa. I can see that. But I want to pull her into mine.”
Christopher nodded. “A noble goal, but take care not to completely discount her world,” he said. “She will be happier if she keeps her world but understands yours. Just be patient, lad. That is all I can really tell you.”
Curtis smiled. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. But that warmth soon faded. “And keep Amaro out of my sight. If I see him again, I will kill him. And I am sorry for your alliance with his father, but no man strikes my wife and lives to tell the tale.”
Christopher nodded. “I understand,” he said quietly.
“I think, mayhap, that it is time to send Amaro back to his father. I have taught him everything I intend to, and I am certain he has learned everything he has wanted to and no more. I am not particularly anxious to have him around your mother and sisters, to be perfectly honest.”
“Then send him back,” Curtis urged quietly. “Send him home and let us say no more about it.”
Off to the south, the wagons were beginning to roll into formation and the army was moving in their direction, except for the thousand men that had been set aside to remain with Curtis.
They could both see Roi moving through the ranks, sending men toward Brython.
The duty had been Amaro’s, but with the man out of commission, Roi was taking the duty.
It was time for the de Lohr army to go home.
“I will consider sending him home,” Christopher replied belatedly to Curtis’ encouragement. He turned to his son, putting a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Meanwhile, I have my own duties to attend to. We will be leaving by midday.”
“I will find you before you go to bid you farewell.”
Christopher put his hand on Curtis’ cheek in an affectionate gesture before going about his business. The men parted ways, each going to attend to his duties, each one looking forward to what life was to bring them. For Christopher, it was returning home, but for Curtis…
He had a wife now.
And he was rather looking forward to it.