Chapter Twelve #3
Andromeda straightened out his tunic and brushed off any chaff from their encounter. “That is true,” she said. “But I think we should be married sooner rather than later so he cannot have it annulled or otherwise break it. You never told him I had arrived at Wrexham?”
Tristan shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “I was afraid of what he would do if he knew.”
“Like what?”
“Like send you away so I would never see you again.”
She smiled at him, touching his scratchy cheek. “That can never happen, my love,” she said. “No matter where I was sent, I would always find my way back to you.”
He grew serious, his dark eyes liquid with emotion. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
He hugged her again, fiercely. There was no lust or urgency to it, only the simple joy of one human to another, feeling the power of what was developing between them.
Tristan had never been a particularly eloquent man, as evidenced by his poetry, so holding her against him was the best he could do at the moment to express himself.
That and the poems.
He could feel one coming on.
“May the sun shineth down for all eternity upon you and me,” he whispered, feeling the words flowing to him as tribute to the moment. “To draw upon the strength within, to smash the source of all my strife. We will eat the sweetest cheese of life, together.”
Andromeda, who had been holding on to him with her eyes pressed tightly closed, slowly opened them.
She could hear one of those odd poems in his words, spoken so reverently, but it took great effort not to smile at the sheer peculiarity of it.
He tried so hard to be articulate, and she had seen, over the past few weeks, how much the poetry meant to him.
Whether or not it was any good wasn’t the issue.
It meant something to him.
Therefore, it meant something to her.
“You must write more poetry for me,” she said, pulling back to look at him. “If I inspire you, then I am honored.”
He smiled faintly, putting a big hand on her hair, smoothing it down.
“I am the one who is honored,” he said softly.
“I worship at your altar, Andie. Surely you know that. As for the poetry… no one said I have talent. Even I know I do not. But the creation of it fills something in me. I’m sorry if it is awkward at times. ”
She shook her head firmly, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek. “It is heartfelt,” she assured him. “I would rather have one of your poems than all of the expensive gifts in the world.”
He grinned modestly, returning her kiss to the cheek.
As they smiled at one another, they began to hear voices outside the stables.
Someone was speaking loudly, and Tristan recognized Addax’s voice.
He stepped out of the stall, holding Andromeda’s hand, and led her out of the stable where Addax was standing near the entrance.
As soon as Addax saw him, he headed in his direction.
“Ah,” he said. “There you are. I wanted to inform you that de Wolfe’s comrades have arrived. Paris de Norville and Kieran Hage are at the gatehouse. De Wolfe is with them. I’ve told him to take them into the solar.”
“Excellent,” Tristan said with some satisfaction. “Teviot agreed to my request, which is either flattering or concerning. Mayhap he was glad to be rid of them, eh?”
Addax chuckled. “They’re big knights, Pat,” he said. “These are not scrawny young men. Hage alone must be worth ten men in battle.”
“We shall see,” Tristan said with the lift of an eyebrow. “I will meet them in the solar. You will attend as well.”
“What about Carr and Dermot?”
“Not now.”
Addax nodded in understanding, heading back to the gatehouse as Tristan turned to Andromeda.
“Will you have refreshments for us, my lady?” he asked politely, kissing her hand. “And make sure there are beds in the knights’ quarters for them, please.”
Andromeda nodded. “Of course,” she said. “But… Pat?”
“Aye?”
“Will you consider moving them into the keep?” she said. “Addax is in the keep, and so are my father and Dermot. Don’t you want all of your knights in the same place?”
That was true. William was the only knight in the knights’ quarters because Addax, Carr, and Dermot refused to sleep there. They were snobs, and that was the truth. Therefore, Tristan considered her request.
“Where would you put them?” he asked.
“On the second floor, right at the mouth of the stairs,” she said. “There are three good chambers there, and they could get to the bailey in a few seconds if needed. Also… also, they could guard the stairs for anyone coming up that should not be there.”
He nodded. “Very well,” he said. “Do as you wish.”
Flashing him a radiant smile, she was gone. Tristan watched her go, her long blonde hair waving in the breeze until she disappeared from sight.
His chatelaine.
His betrothed.
His very life.
He hadn’t thought it was possible to be so happy.
*
“… and we ended up winning five pounds off the man.” A tall, muscular blond with pale eyes and a handsome face was speaking with great animation to William. “We’ve been living like kings all the way from Northumberland.”
He slapped the arm of a man sitting to his right, a man with impossibly wide shoulders, arms like tree branches, and fists the size of a man’s head. Even so, Kieran Hage flinched when Paris de Norville slapped him. He rubbed the spot as William, listening to the exploits of the two, shook his head.
“All well and good,” he said quietly. “But I must speak to you before de Royans comes in. You are to tell him none of this, do you understand? The only reason he allowed me to summon you was on the condition that there be no gambling, no games, and no outrageous behavior. If you do not listen to him, he has the power to destroy. More than Teviot or my father or even William Marshal. De Royans can end us all.”
Paris, the more outspoken of the trio, frowned. “That is not possible,” he said. “What has happened to you, William? Since when do you fear anyone’s wrath?”
William eyed his arrogant friend. “Since you ask, I will tell you,” he said. “This is something that only a few men know, so take this to your grave. If you do not, the grave will come sooner than you expect.”
“We’re listening,” Kieran said. He was a handsome man with dark blond hair, intense brown eyes, and a square jaw. He was also quite calm in any given situation, not at all like Paris and his devil-may-care attitude. “What’s so serious, William?”
“De Royans,” William said, fixing on Kieran. “Do you know the man?”
Kieran shrugged, looking to Paris to see that he was shrugging also. “A little,” Kieran said. “He was stationed at Pelinom Castle for a couple of years, and we saw them on occasion, but we were squires then. We did not mix socially with the knights. What about him?”
William stepped closer to them and lowered his voice.
“He is the adopted son of Juston de Royans of Bowes Castle,” he said.
“His parentage has been kept quiet, but the truth is that he is the bastard son of Henry Curthose and Alys of France. The man is Plantagenet and Capetian, and more royal than any man on the planet, but he chooses to serve as a knight in William Marshal’s stable and conceal his true heritage.
However, the fact remains that should he be wronged or disobeyed, he can ruin us.
He has that power. That means we obey him in all things. Is that clear?”
By this time, Kieran and Paris were looking at William with some astonishment. “He’s Henry’s son?” Paris gasped. “God’s Bones… that is astonishing.”
“It is,” William said. “In fact, de Royans should be on the throne right now, and were it not for his lack of ambition, he would be. He would not be a knight on the Welsh marches, but that is what he chooses, and if we want to continue to serve together, it is time for us to evolve. The boys must become men.”
“I am a man,” Paris spat. “Bring me a wench and I’ll show you just how much of a man I am.”
“He does not mean that,” Kieran said, casting Paris an impatient look before returning his focus to William. “I know what you mean. And I do not disagree. Reputations are being built, and that means if we ever want to be trusted by prestigious lords, we must establish who we are as knights.”
“As men,” William said quietly. “We’ve already established reputation as knights.
That is why we were knighted at such a young age.
But we are no longer youths who can explain away an indiscretion because of our age.
That means no more gambling. No more betting on Kieran to wrestle every man at Wrexham.
No more rolling the bones and taking the money of every dense soldier at the castle.
It means we behave while we are here. Do you understand? ”
Kieran nodded while Paris resisted. He had the size and strength of a grown man but the mind of a fifteen-year-old boy at times.
He liked to have fun. While there was nothing wrong with that, he was still having difficulty with the concept that knights didn’t behave like squires, and they didn’t play games of chance with the soldiers.
“Can we not discuss this?” he said. “There are over a thousand soldiers here, William. Think of the money to be made.”
William shook his head. “I gave de Royans my personal guarantee that there would be no unknightly behavior,” he said.
“If you do something that violates that oath, I will personally send you back to Teviot. Any man—even you—who causes me to break my word is not someone I choose to associate with. Do you understand me, Paris?”
Paris did. He didn’t want to make William look bad, but he also didn’t like the idea of no fun and no riches for their duration at Wrexham. “I understand you,” he said begrudgingly. “But only at the castle, correct? What we do outside of the castle is our own affair.”