Chapter Twenty-Three #3
It was such a painful question and William immediately started to tear up.
“Nay, lad,” he breathed. He felt he was answering the very question that had been his worst nightmare.
“I never thought I would be able to speak to you again, not in this lifetime, and I was prepared to answer this question when we found each other in heaven. We did all we could to take you with us when we fled Llandeilo, but we were overwhelmed by the Welsh. The worst day of my life was leaving you behind. Had there been another way, I would have taken it. You must believe that.”
Blayth sniffled, wiping at his nose, which was beginning to leak. All he could feel was the emotion of the moment, swamping him, and he knew he recognized William’s voice. He’d heard that in his dreams, too.
He remembered it very specifically.
“I do not know how much you have been told, but I remember nothing of my life before I awoke in a darkened hut five years ago,” he said.
“I have had to learn to talk again and think again. I have had to learn to walk and run and fight. But I have heard your voice in my dreams, and I have seen you there, too, but I did not realize those were memories of the before time. Before I was injured. I simply thought they were people that I had created.”
There were tears on William’s face. “What do you remember of your dreams, lad?”
Blayth didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, he reached out a hand to William, who took it quickly. The moment their flesh touched, William hung his head and quietly wept. He was touching his son, a man he believed dead, and it was too much for him to take.
Blayth could see that. He took a step towards him, still holding his hand, and put his free hand on William’s shoulder.
“I needed to know that you left me because you had no other choice, not because I was unwanted,” he said hoarsely.
“I believe I recognize your voice, although I am not sure how much I truly know of you. But I do not think I have to remember you to realize that I love you. Something inside me tells me that I do. Something tells me that you are the greatest man I have ever known, the man I most wish to emulate. I do not know why those words come to me, but they do.”
William was still weeping softly, his head coming up and a hand going to Blayth’s bearded face.
“That is because you said those exact words to me, once,” he said.
“I remember them as clearly as if you said them yesterday. My son, I never thought I would have this moment with you in this life, and because God has been good to us, I have a second chance with you. And I must tell you something – I must tell you how much I love you and how proud I am of you. I thought I’d lost you, but I have not, and even if you return to Wales and we never see one another again, please know how very much to you mean to me and to your mother, and we shall love you as much as we always have no matter where your life takes you. ”
Other than with Asmara, Blayth had never felt true love or true acceptance until that very moment.
He knew William meant every word and he simply nodded his head, unable to speak for the lump in his throat.
As William struggled to compose himself, Blayth’s attention turned to the three men standing behind him.
His brothers.
The impact of that realization was powerful. Releasing William, he made his way to Scott, the first of the three, and looked him in the eye. He was a little taller than Scott, but not by much. Wiping the tears from his face, he smiled weakly at the man.
“I should know you,” he said. “Forgive me that I do not. What is your name?”
Scott was smiling at him, tears stinging his eyes as he gazed into his brother’s face. “Scott,” he said. “I am Scott, your eldest brother.”
Blayth’s eyebrows lifted. “Scott,” he repeated. “I know that name. I have dreamed of it often.”
“Then you have not forgotten me, after all.”
Blayth smiled at the realization. As Scott patted him on the cheek, his attention turned to Troy, who wasn’t as emotional as Scott was.
At least, he was keeping it in check a little better.
But out of the two of them, Troy tended to be the more volatile.
At the moment, he was managing that particular trait.
“I am Troy,” he said quietly. “I am also your elder brother, although by virtue of birth order, Scott is the eldest. And the ugliest, although he will not admit to that.”
Blayth grinned, full-on. “Troy,” he repeated, feeling the name upon his tongue and realizing that it didn’t feel all that strange. “If you call Scott the ugliest, I wonder what you shall call me?”
Troy laughed softly. “I shall call you nothing until you remember me fully,” he said. “Then, I will insult you at every turn just as I have always done, little brother.”
Because Troy was laughing, Blayth did, too. He only sensed good humor from the man and nothing malicious. “I look forward to it,” he said. He meant it. “Am I allowed to retaliate?”
Troy lifted his shoulders. “If you feel you can defend yourself against me, you may try.”
Blayth simply chuckled. “I greatly anticipate that day,” he said. Then, his focus turned to the tallest de Wolfe brother, the man with the bright green eyes. “You are another brother because you look like the others.”
Patrick cocked an eyebrow. “Are you calling me ugly?”
Blayth started to laugh again. “I can see there is a theme with you three,” he said. “Was I part of that theme, also?”
“Of course you were,” Patrick said. “The four of us were inseparable until… well, until Llandeilo. It was as Papa said, James… we tried to take you with us, but we were overrun. It soon became a matter of saving our own lives and we had to leave. I cannot tell you how much it tore us apart to have to leave you behind. We are so very sorry it happened.”
Blayth’s smile faded. “I understand why,” he said. “I do not curse you because of it. There was no choice.”
Patrick nodded. Then, he reached out, extending his hand to Blayth in friendship and in brotherhood, who took it strongly.
That first touch of brother against brother almost undid Blayth, but he fought it.
He kept looking at Patrick, seeing something familiar about him, knowing that he’d seen this man in his dreams, probably more than the others.
He couldn’t explain why, only that he had.
And then, it occurred to him.
“Atty,” he said. “Your name is Atty.”
Patrick grinned, a smile that was brighter than the sun. “Aye,” he said. “I am Atty. Welcome home, James. We have missed you.”
With that, he threw his arms around him, hugging him tightly as Troy and Scott also crowded around, hugging James when Patrick finally decided to let him go. There wasn’t a dry eye among them as they realized Blayth did remember some things about them and perhaps with time, he would remember more.
In fact, there wasn’t a dry eye among anyone watching the reunion, the return of a brother believed to be dead, who, by some miracle, had found a second chance at life.
Blayth didn’t remember his life as James de Wolfe, but his heart, and his soul, knew these men even if his conscious mind did not.
He planned to spend the rest of his life getting to know them again and perhaps with that, the rest of his memories would return.
He certainly intended to find out.
Chris and his sons, and Corbett, began to filter back into the keep, with Chris demanding a feast fit for his de Wolfe guests, which sent his wife into a frenzy to realize she had important guests.
Bhrodi, who was still on the steps of the keep, watched as Blayth was surrounded by his family, including Penelope, who latched on to his hand and began to drag him towards the keep.
It was a family reunion sent from heaven as far as the de Wolfes were concerned, and they were delighted beyond measure to have a second chance with the brother they thought they’d lost.
There was so very much to be thankful for.
As the group neared the steps of the keep, Bhrodi came forward and pulled his wife away, muttering something in her ear.
She gasped and quickly looked behind her brothers to see Asmara bringing up the rear, walking alone.
Penelope left her brothers, father, and husband to rush to Asmara, appalled that she’d left the woman alone during this most important moment.
“Come, my lady,” she said, taking her by the hand. “I am very sorry you were left alone. We did not mean to neglect you. Please come inside and get to know my father and brothers. I am sure they will like you very much.”
But Asmara didn’t seem put out in the least. In fact, she wasn’t at all.
She’d stood by and watched Blayth become acquainted with the father he’d been told had abandoned him, and brothers who clearly adored him.
She’d watched it all, so very happy for Blayth, thrilled beyond words that he’d found his family again.
The quest they’d set out to accomplish had ended rather quickly, but it was the best possible ending imaginable.
Blayth found what he’d been looking for.
“I do not feel neglected,” she said, pausing as the men mounted the stairs.
She watched Blayth as he laughed with Troy.
“In fact, my heart is full as I watch my husband with his brothers and his father. He set out on this journey to find answers to his past, and this is greater than he could have hoped for.”
Because Asmara came to a halt, Penelope did, too.
She also watched as Blayth entered the keep, surrounded by his brothers, as William and Bhrodi brought up the rear.
All of the men filtering into the great hall to become better acquainted, and to begin making new memories for a man who had none at all.
They had a whole lifetime ahead of them to do it.
“I feel as if I am living a dream,” Penelope said. “We had reconciled ourselves to James’ death, and for him to return makes this feel so very surreal. But if it is a dream, I do not want to wake up from it.”
Asmara looked at her. “Nor I,” she said.
“I have lived all my life in Wales, but I did not start living until Blayth came into my life. Whether he remains Blayth, or becomes James again, does not matter to me. He is the man I love, and I shall go with him wherever he wishes to go, and I will call him whatever he wishes to be called. The mark of a man is not in his name, but in his character.”
“And in his heart,” Penelope finished softly.
When Asmara smiled at her, she smiled in return.
“But you will tell me the story of Blayth the Strong, will you not? All I have heard is what de Lohr and Payton-Forrester have told me. I want to hear of his legend through your eyes. Will you share it with me?”
Asmara thought back to the first time she’d ever seen Blayth the Strong.
She’d tripped over him and fell in the mud and he’d thrown her in a trough.
Then, she thought of him as they’d assaulted Llandarog Castle, how she’d scaled the walls and how he’d used brute strength to subdue an entire garrison.
She remembered their time at Gwendraith and their very first kiss in that musty stable.
The man who didn’t remember his past but who had an uncanny skill as a warrior was someone she’d loved from the start.
In fact, she couldn’t remember when she hadn’t loved him.
And as he wandered into the great hall of Lioncross with his family, her love for him only grew.
Blayth the Strong was unwanted no longer.
“I will be happy to tell you,” she said as they began to follow the men into the hall. “The first time I met him, he threw me into a horse trough.”
Penelope looked at her with surprise. “Is that true?” she said. “The first time I met my husband, I challenged him to a fight.”
Asmara grinned. “Did you win?”
“Of course I did. I am a de Wolfe; I was born with a sword in my hand.”
“As was I, practically.”
When they reached the top of the stairs, Penelope put her arms around Asmara and hugged her tightly.
“Then you are going to fit into this family perfectly,” she said.
Asmara hoped so. As she entered the great hall, she saw Blayth sitting at the massive feasting table with his brothers, being served great cups of ale by the servants. He caught a glimpse of her and when their eyes met, she would never forget the look of joy on the man’s face.
It was the joy of a man who was loved fully, and who loved fully. It was the joy of a story with a happy ending, and the joy of a legend whose dreams had actually come true.
James de Wolfe had risen from the dead, and now he was home to stay.