Chapter Eight #2
War drew in a deep, thoughtful breath. “I am not entirely certain,” he said. “The man has a perfect life. Who am I to ruin it with secrets from his younger days?”
Alexei could see his point. “Possibly,” he said. “But I will repeat what I said to you earlier today. If I had a son, I would want to know.”
“True enough.” War paused, still looking over the garden. “But there is something else.”
“What else?”
War looked at him, a lopsided grin on his face. “It seems that you are my father confessor today,” he said. “I have yet another secret. It is not as earth-shattering as de Wolfe, but a secret nonetheless.”
Alexei looked at him with interest. “Speak.”
“You saw de Wolfe’s wife’s cousin today. The lass with the long, red hair.”
Alexei nodded. “She’s quite lovely.”
War scratched his head and returned his focus to the garden.
“When I was wounded at Etal, I was able to crawl off into a hiding place beneath the stump of a tree,” he said.
“You know the Scots like to send people through a field in the aftermath of a battle, killing their wounded enemies, and I did not want to suffer that same ignoble fate, so I hid myself as much as I was able.”
“Understandable.”
“Annaleigh found me.”
Alexei’s eyebrows lifted. “She did?” he said, surprised. “And she did not try to kill you?”
“She stitched my wound and saved my life.”
That drew a stronger reaction from Alexei. “So that’s what happened?” he said. “The physic said that whoever tended your wounds saved your life. It was her?”
“It was her.”
It was clear that Alexei was astonished. “God’s Bones,” he muttered as he pondered that revelation. “So the lass didn’t kill you, but healed you? Remarkable.”
War nodded. “Indeed,” he said. “But there was a reason behind it, as she told me.”
“What reason?”
“Evidently, the entire battle was because of something that happened to her,” War said. “She was accosted by two Etal soldiers and her father launched the attack. A revenge attack. That was what we found ourselves caught up in.”
Alexei’s brow furrowed. “I hadn’t heard that,” he said. “All we knew was that we were answering a call from Etal against Scottish aggression. Did you know this was a matter of revenge at the time?”
War shook his head. “I did not,” he said. “Not until she told me. So, in a sense, she tended me because it wasn’t my battle to fight. It seems to me that she still carries a terrible amount of guilt from the entire incident.”
“Still?”
“Still.”
Alexei fell silent for a moment. “Then mayhap that is why she is here.”
War looked at him. “What do you mean?”
Alexei shrugged. “I am not certain,” he said. “But if my entire clan attacked an English castle because of me and men died on my behalf, I suspect there are some who would be angry at me for it.”
War hadn’t thought of that, but it made some sense. “So she came to Castle Questing to escape her angry clan?” he said, watching Alexei nod. “Or it is just as possible that she’s simply here to visit.”
“True,” Alexei said. But he wasn’t looking at War. He was looking outside the garden gate, into the torch-lit darkness. “If you care curious, why not ask her?”
War had no idea what he meant until he looked over to see what had Alexei’s attention.
Standing across from the gate, peering around the corner of the great hall where the entry was located, stood a woman with long, red hair, dressed in a dark gown and possibly a shawl.
He could see it around her shoulders. Her attention was turned away from them as she watched people come and go through the hall entry.
Curious, he and Alexei looked at each other in puzzlement before they headed in that direction.
“My lady?” War said as soon as they reached the garden gate.
Annaleigh turned to him with such speed and surprise that she smacked into the wall behind her. Eyes wide, she clutched her shawl tightly against her body.
“My… m’lord,” she said. Then, she patted her chest to ease her racing heart. “Ye startled me. What are ye doing in the garden?”
A smile tugged on War’s lips. “And I could ask you what you’re doing out here in the bailey?” he said. “Are you looking for someone?”
Annaleigh’s gaze moved from War to Alexei and then back to War. “Nay,” she said. “I… well, I help Lady Jordan with her duties and I came tae see if all was well. If she needed my help. But I can see that everything is as it should be. Good eve tae ye.”
She started to dash away but War stopped her. “Wait,” he said. “Do not leave. This is my knight, Alexei, by the way. I do not think you have been properly introduced.”
Annaleigh paused unsteadily, looking to the very tall, very blond warrior. “M’lord,” she greeted politely. “’Tis an honor.”
Alexei smiled pleasantly at the extraordinarily beautiful young lady.
“The honor is mine, my lady,” he said. Then, he looked at War and was struck by the expression on the man’s face as he looked at Annaleigh.
It occurred to him that his presence, at the moment, was not wanted.
“I will see to the men, my lord. Good evening to you.”
With that, he slipped away, but War hardly noticed.
He was still staring at Annaleigh.
“He speaks strangely,” Annaleigh said, watching Alexei as War watched her. “Where is he from?”
“Vilnius,” War said. “Do you know where that is?”
Annaleigh shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “Where?”
War gestured in an easterly direction. “That way,” he said. “Many months and even years of travel. There is a great empire there.”
“Oh?” Annaleigh cocked her head curiously. “People like us?”
“People like us,” War confirmed. Realizing that he really didn’t want her to get away, he gestured to the garden. “Would you like to come into this magnificent garden? I’m sure you have seen it many times, but I haven’t. There are no gardens at Bamburgh.”
Annaleigh hesitated a moment before stepping in.
War watched every move, every expression.
She was clad in a dark blue gown, long sleeves and form-fitting, and he could see that she had an exquisite curvy figure.
Even with the shawl around her, there was no mistaking that she was a tasty morsel and, frankly, if she were his wife or daughter, he wouldn’t let her wear such clothing.
He’d never seen Scottish lasses wear what she had on, so he could only imagine that she must have gotten it from her English relatives.
But… God’s Bones, she looked good enough to eat.
“Jordan spends much of her time in the gardens,” Annaleigh said, distracting him from what were clearly lustful thoughts.
“She forces her younger children tae tend the gardens with her. She says that working in the dirt builds character and she’ll not have her bairns raised like spoiled Sassenach children. ”
A smile tugged on War’s lips. “That sounds like a Scotswoman,” he said. “They are some of the most industrious people I know.”
“And ye know many?”
He shook his head. “Not too many,” he said. “But the ones I do know are very hard working. Very pragmatic people.”
Annaleigh thought that was a nice compliment. “Then ye dunna hate the Scots?”
“Should I?”
“Ye’re an English knight. That’s reason enough, I should think.”
“Do you know many English knights?”
She shrugged, looking over to one of the many stone benches in the garden and moving to take a seat.
“I have many cousins who are English knights,” she said.
“They have friends who are English knights. And there are English knights here at Castle Questing. Tae be truthful, when I first came here, I was afraid of them. I thought they would hate me simply because I’m Scots. ”
“Did they?”
“It’s difficult tae hate a woman who is the cousin of England’s greatest knight.”
He snorted. “That is true,” he said. “But hate is a strong word, my lady. I would not say English knights hate Scots as something inherent, like it was there when they were born. That’s something that develops over time, as it does with any enemy.
One must be wronged, usually, in order to have an aversion against a race of people. ”
She watched him in the torchlight as he stood over her, a positively enormous man.
His biceps were as big in circumference as her waist, she thought, but in spite of his size and obvious strength, she was coming to see that the curt, rude man she’d met upon the field of battle wasn’t curt or rude at all.
There was a wisdom about him.
And a gentleness.
“Ye were wronged by my clan,” she said quietly. “In the battle at Etal, ye were badly wounded.”
“True.”
“And that is not enough for ye tae hate?”
He held up a finger to get her attention. “But I was also saved by a Scots,” he said. “You saved my life, my lady. I am forever in your debt.”
She smiled weakly. “There are things about me that are not necessarily true tae a Scots way of thinking,” she said.
“As a people, we fight tae survive. The land is harsh, invaders are harsh… ’tis the way of thinking we all have, but there are things I dunna agree with.
Killing the wounded enemy on the field of battle is one of those things but if my family ever knew what I did, that I saved yer life, they’d never welcome me home again.
As it is, I more than likely willna go back. ”
“Why not?”