Dragonblade Trilogy - 02 - Island of Glass (33 page)

Instead, she smiled sweetly and
wrapped her arms around his neck, nuzzling against him. “But I am smarter and
shrewder than Everett,” she purred.”What if he tells me to do something that I
know is not right?”

Kenneth found her attention quite
enticing, but he wasn’t so blinded that he did not know what she was up to. He
smacked her lightly on the backside and she yelped.

“Non-negotiable, my love,” he
murmured, kissing her on the cheek when she stuck her tongue out at him. “Now,
would you care to retire to your room and get a few hours of sleep before we
leave?”

She pouted like a child. “I slept
all last night and most of today away. I am not tired.”

“You will be, come mid-day
tomorrow.”

“But I do not want to sleep.”

Kenneth smiled slowly. “Who says
that we have to sleep?”

CHAPTER
THIRTEEN

Exactly one week later, the Lady Aubrielle
Grace di Witney became Lady St. Héver, Countess of Wrexham, in the same chapel
she had buried her uncle in three weeks before. Clad in an expensive gown of
garnet-colored silk with golden threads, she stood next to her new husband and
listened to the priest speak of marriage through God’s eyes. Brother Grendel
had assisted in the ceremony, making the comment that he never thought to see
the day. Kenneth could not disagree and Aubrielle had declared her disgust with
both of them.

 It was a joyous day. All of Kirk
and the surrounding village turned out for the wedding. A huge feast was
planned for the peasants in the bailey afterwards. When the new earl and his
countess exited the chapel, the crowd of well-wishers and revelers was
enormous.

The feast went well on into the
night. Kenneth and Aubrielle sat for a time in the great hall, surrounded by
their knights, senior soldiers. Kenneth had sent word to his oldest and dearest
friends Tate de Lara and Stephen of Pembury to attend the festivities, but both
men were rooted to their homes due to pregnant wives and inclement weather. It
had been a distinct disappointment to all concerned that they could not attend
but Kenneth understood. As small consolation, Lord and Lady Chereleton of Powis
Castle, Kirk’s nearest allied neighbor, arrived late due to the swiftness of
the ceremony, but they nonetheless arrived with a large entourage bearing
gifts. Lord Chereleton was a large man with a loud laugh and he ate heartily
throughout the feast. His wife was more interested in bestowing presents on the
new countess.

What gifts they were. Kenneth,
pulled away by the men to drink and talk, kept an eye on his wife on the other
side of the great hall as she opened her wedding offerings. Lady Chereleton had
brought pewter with semi-precious stones, fabulous material from exotic places,
and other items of value.  Aubrielle was a bit overwhelmed with the woman’s
attentions and fine gifts, feeling strange because she did not know the woman.
But Lady Chereleton had known Lady Isobel, her aunt, and apparently felt it was
her duty to take Isobel’s place at Aubrielle’s wedding.

When the gifts had been accounted
for and placed in the center of the hall to be admired, the women stayed in a
cluster around Aubrielle, making sure she was well fed with dessert and plied
with wine. Aubrielle kept straining for a glimpse of Kenneth, but he was near
the entry to the keep in a group of men and clearly occupied with
congratulating himself on his marriage. She had never seen him drink, but today
was an exception. He had imbibed quite a bit and was more animated than she had
ever seen him.

She would have liked to have
enjoyed her wedding feast with her husband by her side, but the guests seemed
determined to keep them apart. There was a small group of minstrels inside the
hall with the required dances being properly drilled, but outside in the
courtyard, there was a large musical group and far livelier celebrating going
on. She wished that she and Kenneth could slip away into it and leave the
stuffy nobles in the hall.

Seated at the head table, Aubrielle
was surrounded by Lady Chereleton and her ladies. They meant well, but their
cloying presence was becoming annoying. Aubrielle really didn’t know them and
wasn’t particularly interested in their dull conversations.  Whereas Aubrielle
could intelligently converse on nearly every subject, these women were limited
to fashions, jewelry, and the best method to organize a kitchen.  Just as she
was hoping a lightning bolt would come out of the ceiling and strike her dead,
thereby mercifully ending her boredom, she felt a tug on her sleeve.

Grendel was smiling at her.
Cleaned and shaved, he looked like a new man. “If my lady will come with me.”

Aubrielle didn’t care why he was
asking. She was desperate to escape. She took the priest’s outstretched hand,
excused herself from the chattering ladies, and followed him gladly away from
the table.

“Brother Grendel, you are an
answer to prayer,” she said quietly. “I was about to go mad. Where is my
husband?”

“He is the one who sent me for
you,” Grendel said. “Apparently, the men are determined to occupy his time as
the ladies are determined to occupy yours.”

They passed through the great
hall, alive with guests and celebration. Everyone she passed lifted a goblet to
her and she graciously thanked them. They entered the foyer, darker and quieter
than the great hall, and Grendel took her into the small solar immediately to
the left of the entrance. It was dark and quiet in there, too, but Kenneth
suddenly reached out and grabbed her.

She laughed softly and threw her
arms around his neck. He picked her up and twirled her around happily.

“Imagine,” he said. “I had to
send the priest to secure my own wife. I could not escape Lord Chereleton no
matter how hard I tried. The man was as clinging as tar.”

She giggled. “His wife is the
same way. The woman means well but she had me bored to tears.” She turned to
Grendel. “Thank you, again, for giving me the opportunity to spend some time
with my husband on the day of our wedding.”

Grendel nodded graciously. “Now,”
he said. “Would you like to attend a real party?”

He motioned them to follow.
Kenneth and Aubrielle exchanged glances but dutifully followed him. He took
them outside, down into the massive bailey where the entire village of Kirk was
celebrating with great bonfires and roasting meat.  It was exciting and gay.
Grendel took them past several groups of well-wishers, who upon seeing the
wedding couple, loudly and happily toasted them. One burly man shoved a huge
cup of ale into Kenneth’s hand.  Kenneth drained it to cheers and handed it
back to the man.

In a sense, it was a night of
awakening for Kirk and her vassals. All anyone had ever known of Kenneth St.
Héver was his fearsome fighting reputation and favored knight of the king. He
was frightening and imposing. But here, relaxed in the celebration of his
wedding, the man was becoming human. Kenneth was already known for his fairness
and wisdom; now he was adding humanity to that persona. The overall picture
brought gladness to the earldom, confident that Lady Aubrielle’s choice of a
husband was the correct one.

Grendel led them over to the
dancing. A large group of musicians played a lively tune and Grendel was the
first one to sweep Aubrielle out into the cluster of dancers. Kenneth watched,
a smile on his lips, as she shrieked good-naturedly to the lively dance.
Grendel was quite a dancer and took her through her paces, once, around the
dance area.  When he came back upon Kenneth, he let go of the winded bride and
handed her over to the groom.

“There,” he said, proud of
himself. “I have broken her in for you.”

Kenneth gave the man a nod, a
half-grin, and collected his wife in his arms. “My thanks. But now it is my
turn.”

He swept Aubrielle into the group
of dancers. Seeing the happy couple whirling about, the revelers began to stand
back and clap loudly. Kenneth was an excellent dancer and swept Aubrielle
around and around until she was completely winded. She was laughing so much
that she could barely breathe. Someone handed her a wreath of flowers and she
made Kenneth pause long enough so that she could put them in her hair,
completely covering up the pearl and garnet tiara she wore.  With the flowers
tucked behind her ears and a smile on her face, he’d never seen a more
beautiful sight.

They danced well into the night.
At times, the musicians played a slow ballad and Kenneth was content to hold
her tightly as they danced at a lesser pace. Several times, he glanced up to
the battlements, more out of habit than anything else, and saw Bradley and Reid
up on the ramparts waving down at him. In truth, he felt better knowing they
were watching over the crowd so he didn’t have to.

After too much dancing, Aubrielle
was thirsty and Kenneth found her a cool cup of ale. She drank it, making a
face at the taste, but asked for more. He turned to pour her another draught
but when went to give it to her, he discovered her missing.

A glance to the group of dancers
saw her jigging with Max, his squire. Somehow the lad had found her in this
writhing mass of people. Soon she was passed off to several of the men in
attendance; one was a blacksmith, one was a metal worker, and then a host of
other hard-working peasants. Each one took a twirl with the new countess and,
out of the benevolence of his heart and the fact that it was a celebration,
Kenneth allowed it. He knew it helped solidify the loyalty of Kirk’s vassals by
giving them a personal memory of their lord and lady. Besides, he saw no harm
in it, fighting down his normally class-conscious protocols.

It was nearly dawn by the time Aubrielle
asked to retire. She was absolutely exhausted. There was still much dancing and
celebrating going on in both the great hall and the bailey, but Kenneth could
see she’d had enough.  The usual tradition of exhibiting the bloody marriage
sheet on the night of the wedding would be a problem, so he and Aubrielle
discreetly slipped up to their chamber on the third floor. They had converted
the earl’s old chamber into their own, making it comfortable with new linens
and another new, larger wardrobe to accommodate Aubrielle’s clothes.  It was a
comfortable place with a big lock on the door, as he had promised. Kenneth took
her inside and threw the bolt, ensuring that this night, they would not be
interrupted.

 Aubrielle went straight to the
bed and threw herself upon the mattress.  The little dog, thrilled to see his
mistress, left his luxurious pillow in the corner and ran up, licking her
ankles.

“I could sleep for a week,” she
muttered.

Kenneth grinned as he unlatched
his ceremonial armor, propping it up on the armor frame in the corner. He’d had
it brought up from the armory for just this occasion. “You were quite lively
tonight,” he said. “In fact, I do not think I saw you sit down once from the
moment we entered the bailey.”

She mumbled something he couldn’t
quite make out. By the time he’d removed all of his armor and went back over to
the bed, his bride was fast asleep, snoring softly into the coverlet.  Laughing
softly, Kenneth leaned over and stroked her dark head.

“Aubrielle,” he whispered.
“Sweetheart, do you want to take off your gown?”

She groaned something and
continued to snore. With a smile on his face, he removed her shoes and let the
dog lick her toes, just to tease her. But she would not react and he gently
moved her legs over onto the mattress so she wasn’t hanging off of it.  He
removed the remainder of his clothing and climbed into the bed beside her,
gathering her up in his arms. She fussed a bit at being jostled, but settled
down once she realized she was in his warm embrace. Like a cat, she curled up against
him.

Kenneth spent his wedding night
listening to his wife and dog snore.

***

“I do not!”

“Aye, you do.”

Aubrielle’s eyes narrowed
dangerously. “Kenneth St. Héver, that is the nastiest thing you have ever said
to me. I do not snore!”

Kenneth was having a difficult
time keeping a straight face. “There is no shame in it. Many people snore.
Drunkards and half-wits, for instance.”

They were sitting at the nooning
meal on the day following the event of their wedding. Though most weddings
could last for days, Kenneth had made sure to cut his celebration short for
security reasons. This close to the border, he was uncomfortable with the
castle wide-open and off guard. The great hall was still a mess, however, with a
few drunken bodies sleeping off their inebriation in the corner. The dogs that
were a permanent fixture in the hall were still prowling the room, looking for
scraps. Lord and Lady Chereleton were nowhere to be found, leaving Kenneth, Aubrielle,
Everett, Argus, Grendel, young Max and Reid to share the meal. At the latest
turn of conversation, Everett was trying so hard to hold back his guffaws that
his face was red.

Aubrielle, however, thought it no
laughing matter. Dressed in a gift from Lady Chereleton, a pale blue gown with
a matching blue topaz necklace, her manner was hardly as beautiful as her
striking appearance. Her husband’s latest jibe had her blood boiling.