Chapter Fifteen #2
He shrugged. “I thought I would. But as I considered everything today, my ideals have changed somewhat,” he said.
“Morys told me that I had been abandoned by the English at Llandeilo, and that when he found me, I was a dying English knight and there were Welshmen swarming over me who wanted to kill me. He chased them away and brought me back to Brecfa, creating the entire persona of Blayth the Strong, son of Llywelyn. Wolf was the only word I could say for quite some time, apparently, which is why he gave me my name. But when I think back to what Payton-Forrester said to me, it all makes a good deal of sense. Do you recall when the man told me my family name was de Wolfe?”
Asmara nodded. “I do.”
“Then it seems I was trying to say my name,” he said quietly. “The House of de Wolfe was at Llandeilo. Morys said they abandoned me.”
She squeezed his hand. “Mayhap they could not bring you,” she said. “You were badly injured and it is possible they simply could not take you with them when they retreated. I have been told that Llandeilo was madness.”
Blayth nodded. “I pointed that out to Morys, but he insists I was abandoned and the English do not want me,” he said. “He says my only choice is to remain Blayth and continue as a Welshman.”
“Do you believe that?”
“All things considered, I would… except for one thing.”
“What is that?”
His gaze was intense. “The way Payton-Forrester looked at me when he called me James,” he said, thinking back to that moment. “You were there, Asmara – you saw his face. He was almost weeping with joy when he saw me. Did that look like a man who had seen someone who was intentionally abandoned?”
Slowly, she shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “He seemed most happy to see you at first. And then… then it was like he was frightened to have recognized you. I remember thinking that it was most strange.”
Blayth remembered that moment clearly. Although he hadn’t thought much of it at the time, because he was more concerned with Payton-Forrester delivering his message, in hindsight it did seem a bit strange.
“Indeed,” he said. Then, he shook his head, a gesture of frustration.
“I have been sitting here wondering if what Morys told me was true in that I was intentionally abandoned at Llandeilo. With him, there is no knowing if that is the truth. In these dreams I have, I see men that I know that I should know, yet I cannot recall their names. But the feelings I have for them are not those of animosity, but those of affection. I do not even know if these men are real, but something tells me that I am dreaming of memories of my past. I have always wondered, but after what Morys told me, now I am coming to think that is exactly what has happened. What my conscious mind cannot remember, my dreams seem to be able to.”
She could see that he was confused and frustrated. She clutched his hand in both of hers. “It is possible,” she said. “Mayhap you will never know.”
He eyed her. “I think that I will. I cannot go to my grave with these doubts, wondering about my past and what really happened to me.”
“Then what will you do?”
“Payton-Forrester was heading to Lioncross Abbey Castle,” he said. “More than likely, he is still there. I think I should go there, too. Mayhap, he will tell me more of what he knows about me.”
She looked at him warily. “Do you think you should?” she asked. “Will it be safe?”
He shrugged his big shoulders. “If I am truly English, then I have nothing to fear,” he said. “In any case, there is something burning within me that must know. I must know who I am and Payton-Forrester can tell me.”
Asmara could see that he meant it and, in truth, she didn’t blame him. The man had his whole life taken from him and now there was a chance for him to find out who he was. Certainly, the lure of truth was strong.
“Very well,” she said. “When will you go?”
Blayth shrugged, averting his gaze. “Tonight,” he said. “I feel as if I cannot wait. I must go and I must go now.”
Asmara could feel his sense of urgency. “Will you tell Morys?”
He nodded. “I will tell him tonight.”
Asmara watched him as he looked off into the darkness of the room, a man with a million different thoughts on his mind.
She didn’t want him to go and leave her here, a target of Morys’ animosity.
But more than that, she simply didn’t want to be without him.
She was becoming quite attached to him and the thought of him going away filled her with angst and sorrow.
“Please take me with you,” she said quietly. “I do not want to be left behind. I want to go where you go and be at your side as you discover these truths about your past. Will you please take me?”
He looked at her, a faint smile on his lips.
“It would be quite scandalous, the two of us traveling together and not married,” he said.
“I wish I had time to seek your father’s permission to marry you, but I am afraid I do not.
As much as I want to marry you, I feel as if this is more pressing. I hope you understand.”
She nodded before he even finished speaking. “I do understand,” she insisted. “I would want to know about my past, too. But you do not need my father’s permission. You have mine, and that is all that matters in the end. My father will permit me to marry whoever I choose, and I choose you.”
His smile grew. “Do you suppose he will see it that way?”
She waved him off. “My father will simply be glad that I am marrying,” she said. “It does not matter to whom, so long as I marry and give him grandsons.”
Blayth chuckled. “Then I suppose we could find a church and ask them to marry us,” he said. “It would not be a grand wedding and a great feast that you deserve.”
She grinned, embarrassed. “I hate parties and grand feasts. I do not need any of those things.” Then, she sobered. “Will you take me with you, then?”
It was probably against his better judgement to do so, but he couldn’t deny her. He wanted her with him and he certainly couldn’t leave her here. After a moment, he relented.
“Aye,” he said. “Go and gather your things. But what about your horse? Is he well enough to travel with that hoof?”
She stood up, quickly. “It was healed this morning,” she said. “I simply soaked it again just to ensure that it was completely healed. It was not that bad to begin with.”
“Then he will travel well?”
“He will be fine.”
Reaching up a big hand, he swatted her gently on the bottom with a trencher-sized hand. “Then gather your things,” he said. “Go and prepare your horse and I will meet you in the stable in a little while. I must speak to Morys now.”
Asmara understood, feeling somewhat special and flattered with his love tap to her arse. Had any other man done that to her, she would have flattened him. But coming from Blayth, she didn’t mind it one bit. From one warrior to another, she understood an affectionate touch when she felt it.
She was eager to go with him, to help him follow the trail that would lead him to the answers he sought.
It was a frightening thing that he was doing, but a brave one, and she admired him greatly for it.
It didn’t matter to her one bit that the man was English; to her, he was simply Blayth, the man was cared deeply for.
Perhaps she had even fallen in love with him, just a bit.
More than just a bit.
She knew she loved him.
Quickly, she fled his chamber, heading to the bower she had been using since her arrival to Gwendraith to collect her possessions.
Her mind was on the journey ahead, a journey of a lifetime, and something she had never imagined she would ever do.
She was leaving her family, and the rebellion, to chase dreams with the man she was to marry.
And the Dragon Princess couldn’t have been happier about it.