Choose the Sky: A Medieval Romance (Swordcross Knights Book 2) (12 page)

“Someone can ride to the sheriff tomorrow to tell him about the incident. He can sound the news more broadly,” Luc added.

Once back at the castle, Luc went in search of a good place to brood. He was unwilling to be seen by anyone until he could think over all the revelations of the day.

It was foolish to have mentioned Domina’s singing. Luc might well have announced that he’d discovered her secret. Yet, he couldn’t stop himself. His blood was up after the encounter with Haldan, especially since he’d got away, depriving Luc of the chance to finish the fight.

Perhaps naturally, his attention shifted to Haldan’s intended victim. Luc couldn’t forget that Domina had lied to him. He wanted to see her face when she thought her secret was threatened.

Domina lied about her father. She’d lied again and again and again. To him, to her allies, to the
king.
If she could lie about one thing, why not a dozen? A woman who could lie so well would make the perfect traitor.

As soon as he thought that, he grimaced. He didn’t want Domina to be a traitor. Perhaps she lied for a better reason.

He pictured the way she tended to the man on the bed. She treated her father with such care and spoke so gently to him. Dear lord, she
sang
to him. Was that what a traitor would do? No. A woman hellbent on betrayal wouldn’t nurse her father back to health. She’d hurry him along to death, and invite the conspirators in.

But how could he reconcile that with the news of the spymaster Drugo? He’d been adamant that the de Warewics were involved in a conspiracy. Luc remembered Lord Bertram’s comment that he hadn’t seen Godfrey in months. Perhaps Godfrey’s sickness was fairly recent, and Domina was innocently nursing a traitor back to health.

So what did that leave him with? Now that he’d met Domina, Luc could believe that she was intelligent enough to devise a conspiracy if she wanted to. Domina understood the principles of war, and how to attack and defend. Furthermore, she clearly kept her own council and had a mind of iron. If she wanted something, she had the force of will to attain it.

But was she really capable of treason? Was that in her heart? He went through every conversation, every scrap of her speech, every gesture and reaction she’d made to his own words. Nearly all she’d said or done was in line with a loyal servant of the king. Domina said she came to London to fulfill the king’s order when Godfrey could not—was that the act of a traitor? But then again, wouldn’t a traitor appear loyal until the very last moment?

Luc sighed in frustration. This was the conundrum. Once you doubted someone’s motives, everything they said or did could be used to support those doubts. She was either lying or she wasn’t. She was either loyal or she wasn’t.

Then he had an idea. What if he could persuade her to share her true thoughts by pretending to share the same ideas? If he could trick her into speaking the truth, then he’d have the evidence he needed to take to the king. Domina kept her true emotions safe behind a facade of icy calm. All he had to do was melt that facade.

He couldn’t speak to her about it until the next day at the earliest. The attack from Haldan had been no act, and Domina was visibly shaken. The thought of the man touching Domina sent Luc’s blood boiling. He told himself that it was merely the man’s audacity in hurting a lady, any lady. Luc would have intervened no matter what woman was being attacked.

What if he hadn’t ridden back early? What would have happened if Haldan succeeded? He could have forced a marriage, then declared himself the castellan and shut the gates to everyone. Domina would be a prisoner in her own home.

Luc couldn’t deny that some of his fury was because it was Domina in particular who was in danger. He barely knew her, and by all accounts, she would rather have Luc out of her life, but something in her personality had already snared him. Luc didn’t like the idea of any other man touching her. Ever.

He shook his head, trying to laugh off the madness. He was letting the intensity of the moment get to him. The strange excitement after a physical fight always left him feeling restless. He’d feel like himself after a good night’s sleep.

No sleep came to him. That night, Luc stared at the canopy of his bed. He couldn’t close his eyes without seeing what transpired earlier that day: the secret room, Haldan’s attack, Domina’s ashen face when Luc mentioned her singing.

He couldn’t sleep because he had too much in his brain, too much unresolved. He got up and lit a candle from the embers of the fire.

Luc sat for some time, contemplating his options. He reached for the folded parchment he’d kept hidden since arriving here.

An idea came to him. Luc dressed swiftly and left his chamber, moving through the dark corridors without aid of a candle.

He left the keep from a small door through the kitchen, and crossed the freezing courtyard, moving like a shadow. There was a chance that someone stood guard the whole night through, but it was equally likely that the household servants who were charged with the duty weren’t able to stay awake.

In fact, Luc saw no one at all. He remembered the little room he’d hidden in earlier. Doubtless if someone was to stay near the old man, they were sleeping in the next room on the pallet.

Luc would have to be quiet, but he wasn’t deterred. He opened the door to Godfrey’s chamber. The dying fire offered some light. Luc lit a candle using the embers, and brought it to the old man’s bedside.

“Godfrey,” he said quietly, putting a hand to the man’s shoulder. “Are you awake?”

After a moment, the man stirred from his sleep.

“Who calls?” he asked in a thin voice. “Joscelin? Is that you, my boy? Have you come back for good this time?”

Luc didn’t correct the misapprehension. He was merely glad the old man didn’t recognize him as a stranger and yell for help.

“Sir, how long have you been here?”

“On this earth? More years than you, stripling!” Godfrey blinked several times, and stared harder at Luc. “You look different, boy. What have you been up to?”

“Don’t mind me,” Luc said. “How long have you been ill?”

“Am I ill? Send for Mina, then. She’ll know what to do.”

Mina
. Luc had never heard anyone call her by such a pet name, and the way Godfrey said it, with such affection, made him pause, considering again what he was about to do.

“Mina has been tending to you,” Luc said finally. “She sang to you not long ago.”

“Ah, yes.” Godfrey closed his eyes. “I remember. A voice as sweet as her mother’s. She taught her, you know. No…you were not here then…” Godfrey opened his eyes, troubled and confused again. “What’s happening?”

“I need you to sign something, sir.”

“Take it to Mina.”

“This must be your hand, sir. Mina cannot sign it.”

“Why not?”

“It’s for her marriage.”

“You always argued against marriage. You said she ought to take the veil.”

What?
Who did Godfrey think he was? The idea of Mina as a nun almost made Luc laugh out loud. “The veil?”

“You opposed every offer. You prayed for her, you said, and both offers failed. God’s will, you said…”

“I will give you pen and ink, sir.” Luc unfolded the parchment. “This is what you must sign.”

“Who is the man? Why does he not come to me first?”

“The name is Luc of Braecon,” Luc said. The enormity of what he was doing suddenly struck him.
It’s just preparation
, he told himself.
Just in case. I can still walk back from this edge
.

“Braecon. King’s man?”

“Yes, sir. King Stephen himself suggested the match.”

“Ah.” Godfrey relaxed. “The pen, then.”

Luc handed him a pen from the nearby desk, with ink dripping off the nib. “The line here,” he said, guiding the frail hand to the page.

Godfrey tightened his grip on the pen, but then paused. “What is Mina’s thought on this? I should ask her first…”

“She knows the man,” Luc said. “Remember, this is the king’s wish.”

Godfrey’s hand trembled. “Mina is a little headstrong. She needs someone who is the match of her in mind. Is he? And is he honorable? She is my only child. I must speak with her. And her mother…” Godfrey stared past Luc, into nothing. “What has happened? What is this room?”

Luc could tell he was losing the old man. “Please, sir. Sign your name.”

Godfrey obeyed that time, as if he’d forgotten the whole previous conversation, which was entirely possible.

He looked at the pen in surprise when he was done. “I can’t eat my stew with this.”

“No, you can’t.” Luc took the pen away from him. “I’ll make sure you have a spoon.”

“Thank you, my boy.” He blinked. “Joscelin?” He frowned, lucidity returning for a moment. “You’re not Joscelin.”

“No, I’m not,” Luc said, sick of pretending. “My name is Luc.”

“Have we met?”

“No, sir.”

“Why am I not dressed for company. Fetch Mina. Fetch Emma. Emma will know…”

He closed his eyes, exhausted.

I did that to him
, Luc thought. The man was so weak that signing a document was too much for him. He was incapable of serving as lord of the castle. No wonder Domina strove to hide his condition. If this news became public, she might as well open the gate and invite invaders inside.

But she hadn’t. Instead, she did everything she could to keep control of the castle and lands, and never turned to another force. If Mina was loyal, then she was also alone. No one was helping her as she tried to keep the castle and her lands secure. Or she was playing a more subtle game, something she was definitely capable of.

Luc went back to the keep as silently as he’d come. He’d taken a great risk, telling Godfrey his name. If the man told Mina, the situation might change quickly. Yet he thought the outcome worth the risk, for now he had real leverage if he had to challenge Domina in any way.

He hid the parchment again and returned to his bed. This time he drifted right off to sleep. He woke only once before dawn, from a strange but pleasant dream in which a swan lay beside him, singing sweetly in her sleep.

The next day, Mina rose
rather late, for Constance had made her drink wine blended with poppy syrup the previous night.

The maid was horrified to hear what had occurred, and swore that Haldan must be part devil to do such a thing.

“I’d rather not ever think of it again,” Mina had said, while Constance helped her out of her gown and looked over the damage, which was thankfully limited to a few ugly bruises.

“Praise Him that someone came to your rescue,” Constance said, ignoring the spirit of Mina’s comment. “It might have been much worse.”

“Yes, I know,” Mina said, “but we’re not going to discuss it again, Constance. Do you understand?”

“Oh! Yes, my lady,” the maid replied, abashed. She’d then prepared the poppy wine, and very soon after drinking it, Domina was lost to the world.

Thus, her head was groggy despite the sunshine, and she barely spoke when Constance appeared to dress her and fix her hair.

Domina went down to the great hall, where the steward greeted her with such a wide smile that she thought the war must be over.

“Come see, my lady,” Ancel said, drawing her along to the kitchens. They proceeded to the courtyard just outside, and Domina stopped short on seeing a cart bearing the carcasses of two deer.

“What is this?”

“The spoils from the hunt yesterday,” he said. “Sir Luc ordered his kills brought to his hostess.”

“He never said,” Domina murmured. Then again, the first time she saw him after the hunt, they were both rather preoccupied.

“This will stretch the larder,” the steward went on. “Certainly until the guests depart.”

“I ought to congratulate him,” she said.

Hearing that he was in the solar, she went there, and found both Luc and Octavian near the fire. “Good day,” she said.

Both men rose from their seats.

“How are you feeling?” Luc asked, looking her over.

Mina had tried to conceal the worst of her bruising by wearing her hair loose, but she knew it was partly evident. “I feel more restored than I may look.” She spoke obliquely, not sure if Luc had mentioned the attack.

“I told Octavian what occurred,” Luc said.

“I see.” Mina blushed in embarrassment, as if she was somehow responsible. Well, in a way, she was. She ought to have sent Haldan away long before.

Octavian’s eyes narrowed. “You blame yourself,” he said, half guess, half statement. “You should not.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “It’s over.”

“We were talking,” Luc said. “Octavian agrees with me. The matter should be taken to the sheriff.”

She bit her lip. “But there’s nothing to be done. I’m sure Haldan has fled as far from here as he can.”

“What if he comes back?” Octavian asked. “What if he seeks to join another garrison, or another family’s estate? What of those daughters?”

Mina closed her eyes, afraid to picture it.

“If his crime is made public, there’s much less chance of further damage,” Luc said. “Secrets won’t help anyone now, my lady.”

She nodded. “Very well. I’ll write up an account of what happened and have it sent to the sheriff.”