Chapter 8 #2
“In truth, I only existed here until my wife forced herself upon me.”
“Forced herself?”
Draven laughed. “You’ve no idea what a tigress resides in that angelic body.”
Sin looked to Callie, who appeared as calm and serene as the Madonna herself. Aye, looks could be quite deceiving.
Draven offered him a cup of wine, and still the earl couldn’t meet his gaze for any length of time. Sin knew why. He’d never forgotten the day they had last seen each other.
The heat of Outremer had been searing. Barely fourteen, Sin had been Harold’s squire for more than four years. The old earl had wanted to make peace with God and kill a few Saracens and so he had packed up his knights, son and squire and made for Jerusalem.
The journey had been arduous. Two of the knights had died en route and three more had been slain in battle. The last of Harold’s knights had died of disease just the day before a bandit had robbed the last of Harold’s money.
Penniless, Harold had made for a slaver. The man had wanted Draven even though he was two years younger. Draven had been better fed and far less scarred.
“You’ll not take my son,” Harold had growled. “You can only have this one.”
He had shoved a stunned Sin into the man’s hands where he had been inspected in the crudest and coldest of fashions. They had haggled over his worth and in the end, he had been sold for less than the price of a good night’s lodging.
When the slaver’s men had come at him with irons, Sin had fought them with all his strength. But it hadn’t been enough. And as they had dragged him away and the old man paid Harold, he had seen a flash of relief on Draven’s boyish face that his father hadn’t sold him instead.
Sin cleared his throat as he banished the memory. “I don’t blame you, you know.”
Guilt was etched into Draven’s face. “I should have done something.”
“Done what?”
“Fought him. Protested. I don’t know.” He took a deep breath. “Something.”
“You were twelve years old, Draven. You were starving and scared. Had you moved, he would have either beaten you or sold you too. Honestly, it’s all right.”
They both knew he was lying. As bad as Harold had been, he had been a saint compared to the arse who had bought Sin.
For a time, they watched the women and spoke of nothing in particular. And after a little while, they relaxed and remembered the boys they had once been. Co-conspirators who had made mischief and mayhem.
And with Simon’s help, they joined the ladies and retold some of their juicier stories.
“They tell me no one can defeat you in arms,” Draven taunted Sin while Sin leaned against the hearth.
“I’ve heard the same of you.”
Simon groaned. “Sweet Jesu, not this again.”
“What Simon?” Emily asked.
Simon shook his head. “Ladies, be prepared. You are about to witness the most horrendous thing on earth.”
Callie frowned. “What?”
“Two champions at odds.”
Callie laughed, until Sin spoke again.
“I could take you.”
Draven snorted. “Only in your dreams.”
“Ha! Never.”
“You think not?”
“I know not.”
“Then suit up and meet me outside.”
“Draven!” Emily gasped. “They haven’t been here hardly any length of time and you wish to spar with Lord Sin?”
“I’m not going to spar with him, Em, I’m going to sweep the list with him.”
Sin scoffed. “You wish.”
“Sin,” Callie said as he pushed himself away from the hearth. “Are you not too tired?”
“Even half dead, I could beat him with one arm tied around my back.”
Draven smiled evilly. “Then do it.”
“I will.”
Simon groaned even louder.
Callie looked up at Simon. “They’re not serious, are they?”
Emily answered for him. “I have a bad feeling they are.”
Her bad feeling turned out to be correct when ten minutes later both men came back downstairs dressed for battle.
“Will you not at least eat first?” Simon called.
They shook their heads in unison and headed for the door. Their voices echoed through the room as they clattered down the foyer.
“Lay on, Sin, and taste your first defeat.”
“‘Tis your own feet you’ll be tasting, Draven-boy. There shall never come a day when you can best me.”
Draven paused at the door and looked back to the hearth. “Come, Simon, and watch your foster-brother eat crow.”
The men slammed their helmets on, clanged their swords together, then headed outside.
“Simon?” Callie asked. “Should I be worried?”
They heard a scream from outside the door.
“I think we should be worried,” Emily said as she scrambled to her feet and rushed for the door.
Simon grabbed Hen and they followed Emily to see the men outside in the yard.
“Alys?” Emily asked an attractive, dark-haired maid who appeared to be around Emily’s age. The woman stood with her hand over her heart as if she’d suffered a horrendous fright. “Are you all right?”
“Aye,” Alys said, “but your husband is dangerous with that sword, milady.”
“You have no idea,” Simon muttered as he approached the men. He flashed a bright smile at the maid who blushed prettily, then hastened off.
As soon as the men locked swords, a small crowd of servants and knights formed to watch them. Emily and Callie exchanged a frustrated, weary look, then went to try and break them up.
It didn’t work.
Hours went by as Sin and Draven attempted to pummel each other into the ground.
After a time, Jamie got up from his nap, played with Hen, then both were tucked into bed. Supper was served, eaten and then grew cold all the while they waited for the two combatants to grow up and join them.
Even the crowd outside dispersed as the watchers made their way to their own beds.
Finally, Emily had a brilliant idea. She and Callie made platters, then took them outside where their husbands were still fighting.
Someone, most likely Draven, had ordered rushlights lit around the list so that they could see each other even in the darkness of night.
In spite of the lunacy of their actions, Callie did have to admire them.
They were both extraordinary fighters, especially given the fact they had been at this for many hours.
“Mmmm…” Emily took an exaggerated whiff of the roasted venison in elderberry sauce. “Callie, you must take a bite of this. ‘Tis the best venison our cook has ever prepared.”
The men slowed a bit as they craned their necks to see.
Callie took a bite and moaned in exaggerated bliss. “You are right. ‘Tis marvelous. Delicious.” She cast a sideways glance to see the men stopping. “The best I have ever eaten.”
Sin’s stomach rumbled at the thought of the banquet the ladies held. He hadn’t eaten much of anything that day. But Satan’s throne would freeze before he ceded this battle to Draven.
“You’re looking a bit weak,” Draven taunted. “Methinks you need a bite to replenish your feeble strength.”
“My strength is nowhere near as feeble as your brain.”
They began hammering blows again.
Callie and Emily exchanged annoyed glares. Men!
They looked to Simon, whose platter was almost cleared of food. “What?” he asked innocently.
“What are we to do now?” Callie asked.
Simon shrugged and finished his food.
Emily set the platters aside and thought the matter over for several minutes. “My maid Alys once told me that if you flash a little ankle, a man will follow you anywhere.”
Simon snorted. “Trust me, ‘twould take more than an ankle to dislodge those two.”
Emily loosened the top laces of her gown. Simon discreetly turned his back while she went closer to the men. “You know, Callie, ‘tis rather warm out tonight. Perhaps I should dampen my kirtle until it’s sodden and hangs transparent against my skin.”
Draven stumbled at her words.
“Is that what you English do when you’re warm?” Callie asked as she joined her. “At home we merely remove our plaids and walk about...bare.”
Sin snapped his head toward her.
Callie fingered the pin on her shoulder. “It only takes one brooch to remove the entire thing.”
Draven growled and rushed Sin, catching him about the middle and knocking him back.
Sin roared and attacked full force.
Emily sighed as they continued their battle. “I think we only made it worse.”
They turned to look at Simon who was now poking around the other two platters and eating the food from them.
“What?” he asked again as he realized he held their full attention.
Emily put her hands on her hips. “Is there truly nothing you can do?”
Simon dropped the food in his hand and straightened. “Should I do this, then I want both of you to promise me you will grab your husbands before I am gelded.”
“We will,” they promised in unison.
“You had better.” Straightening his tunic with a tug, Simon moved closer until he stood just a little way from the other two men. “Draven,” he said, his voice falsetto, “what a big, strong warrior you are. Why it makes my heart pound the way you move. You’re such a great hero.”
Sin laughed out loud.
Draven merely growled again.
Simon turned his attention away from his brother. “And Sin, such a great big, tough knight you are. Why, I just don’t know if I can stand here and watch you. It just makes me all jittery.”
Sin laughed no longer.
Simon turned to look at Callie and Emily. “Ladies, while the men play with each other’s swords, what say you we adjourn inside and Emily can show me all about damp kirtles and Cal—”
Before he could finish the sentence, Draven and Sin charged him.
Sin caught him about the neck at the same time Draven caught his waist. Together they lifted him from his feet and tossed him into a water trough.
No doubt they would have done more damage had Callie and Emily not run forward to grab them.
Callie pulled Sin’s helm from his head and kissed him quickly before he could get away.
Sin froze at the taste of his wife’s cool lips against his hot mouth.
He was weary beyond simple endurance and sweating, yet she didn’t seem to notice the stench of him.
She pulled back and gave him a smile. “Tell me honestly, are not famished, my lord?”
Aye he was. He starved for her in a way that was truly terrifying.