Duty: a novel of Rhynan (12 page)

I nodded and looked around for my gear. After finding
it beneath a chair in the corner, I chose my practical brown woolen
leggings, a rust red tunic that fell below the knee, and a forest
green surcoat slit at the sides for ease of movement. The red
accented my hair, or at least that was what Loren claimed when she
dyed it last spring. Once I belted my weapons about my waist, I set
to combing my hair. I separated the strands for a braid.

“Leave it.”

“What?” I turned to find him watching me intensely.
Now dressed in padded jerkin and most of his armor, he lacked only
his mail, breastplate, and helmet to be completely ready for
battle. He gestured to where my fingers were entangled.

“Leave it loose for now. I like it wild and down
around your shoulders.” His gaze skimmed me from head to foot. A
half smile pulled at his mouth as his focus settled on my face. “In
fact, I think I like you just as much in leggings as I do in a
skirt.”

Dropping the mail in his hands to the floor with a
thump, he crossed the space between us in two strides. Catching my
face between his hands, he pressed his mouth to mine. Visions of
the night before flooded my head as my senses honed in on the sweet
pleasure of his kiss and the delightful possession of his fingers
in my hair. My arms encircled his neck, pulling the rest of me up
to meet him. For the first time in my life I was thankful for my
height.

After what seemed like forever and only a few
seconds, he withdrew with a ragged groan. “This is madness. I don’t
want to leave you.” He cradled my face with his right hand,
caressing my bottom lip with his thumb. The desire in his eyes
almost prompted me to plead for him to heed the impulse. Instead, I
closed my eyes.

I forced myself to say the words. “I don’t want you
to leave, but we both know you must. For Rhynan and for our future,
you must do this.”

The depth of his sigh made my chest ache. He kissed
me once more, deeply, and then stepped away.

He returned to where his mail lay and claimed it from
the floor. With his back still turned away, he said, “Perhaps you
shouldn’t come to watch me train.”

The sadness in his voice brought my head and
attention around to focus on him. He avoided my gaze by
concentrating on adjusting his mail. Disquiet undermined my
confidence. What had I said to bring on this change?

“Why ever not?”

Something about the way he held his shoulders as he
reached for his breastplate dropped a thought into my head. Had he
interpreted my reminder of his responsibilities as rejection?
Before I lost my nerve I blurted out, “I am not Elenawyn.”

“What?” He stared at me.

“I wasn’t pushing you away. I care about you and
don’t want you to die. I…” the words stuck in my throat. My
heartbeat thundered in my ears. “If only your title and lands were
at stake, I would beg you to stay.” I couldn’t look at him for fear
he would laugh at me.

“Thank you, Brielle.” He took a deep breath. “If
Darnay and Elise didn’t need someone to care for them here, I would
take you with me. I want you near me.”

Pleasure at his words flooded my cheeks with heat. I
hid it by concentrating on donning my heavy cloak. “Could you show
me how to improve my skills? After you finish your own training,
that is.”

He smiled. The brief lifting of worry from his face
made my stomach flutter.
Kurios, please bring him home safe and
whole.

He offered me his hand. “Come. Show me what you know.
I will help how I can.” I claimed his helmet from the table and
took his hand.

We navigated the quiet corridors and stairs to the
bailey in silence. Only the sounds of the kitchen workers beginning
their day followed us out the door into the gray light of
pre-dawn.

“You two are up early.” Rathenridge fell into step
next to Tomas. His easy lope contrasted with Tomas’ purposeful
stride. I lengthened my normal stride to keep up with the two of
them. They matched each other’s steps without apparent thought.

“Moriah not up yet? She used to join you for your
morning training.”

“Not since the birth of our first child, she hasn’t.
The children tire her out these days. Enjoy your time alone, my
lady, while you have it. Once the children come, you will wish you
savored it more.”

“I intend to.” I glanced Rathenridge’s way only to
encounter Tomas’ gaze. The intense attention of his regard warmed
my face.

“Weapon preference?” Rathenridge asked as we passed
beneath the open arch into the practice yard. A handful of men
already spread across the area.

“Broad sword,” Tomas replied. “You should watch from
a distance, Brielle.”

“Over there would be safe.” Rathenridge pointed
toward a crude wooden bench in the shadow of the curtain wall.

I started across the center of the yard toward the
seat only to wish I had chosen a different route. The men stopped
their practice to greet me. I was bowed to and asked if I required
anything. One of them claimed my hand and offered to escort me the
rest of the way.

I looked up into his boyish features and wondered if
he truly thought I was incapable of walking across a field without
help. I opened my mouth to ask him just that when Tomas appeared at
my shoulder.

“I will retain that privilege for myself,
soldier.”

“Very well, my lord.” The soldier bowed over my hand.
“I am always at your service, my lady.” Finally releasing my hand,
he returned to his sparring partner without even a backward
glance.

Tomas glowered at his back. “You have my permission
to break his nose if he ever handles you in such a high-handed
manner again. Better yet, I will speak to him myself.” He claimed
his helmet.

Rathenridge joined us, blunted broadswords in his
hands. “Don’t be hasty, Tomas. Rolendis and her ladies sopped up
flowery drivel and grand gestures. Kolbent encouraged it, fancied
himself a hero of high romance. Rolendis and her ladies bestowed
smiles and small favors on the men who fawned the most. You can’t
blame the men who haven’t noticed the new Lady Irvaine is more
discerning. Their confusion is understandable considering she puts
Rolendis’ beauty to shame.”

I almost choked.

“Beware, Aiden. I doubt Moriah takes kindly to you
complimenting other men’s wives.”

Rathenridge laughed. “I can’t help speaking the
truth. Besides, Moriah outshines every woman in every way. She need
not fear me noticing your lady, Tomas. My wife is the only woman
for me. Come, show me how soft you have become.”

“Soft? I am not the one who has been sitting by the
fire in a great hall, enjoying my wife, begetting children and
growing flabby.”

Rathenridge’s lean frame could not be called flabby
by any stretch of a troubadour’s tongue. Tomas’ physique was the
opposite of soft. Both men confused me even more by grinning at
each other.

“Are you going to hand me a weapon and allow me to
defend myself?” Tomas asked, stepping away from me.

Rathenridge threw him the sword in his right hand,
retaining the weapon in his left. Before I reached the bench, the
two descended into playful jibes and jeers as they exchanged blows.
I watched, admiring both of their skill.

Tomas moved with surprising agility considering his
size. Rathenridge’s movements took on more of a fluid quality.
However, he did seem to rely heavily on his occasionally random
strikes in odd spots in attempting to keep Tomas off-balance. They
moved across the practice area, weaving back and forth between the
other trainers. Neither man gained the upper hand for more than a
few strikes.

Finally, Rathenridge began to show signs of fatigue.
His blocks grew sloppy. He stopped attacking with his words. After
a few more minutes, he made a relatively minor error of lunging the
wrong direction when Tomas feinted left, exposing his right side.
Tomas pressed his advantage, scoring a resounding whack to
Rathenridge’s breastplate. The two of them fell back, breathing
hard and circling.

“I wouldn’t recommend another match, my lord.”
Antano’s voice at my shoulder made me jump. I hadn’t noticed his
arrival thanks to my concentration on the bout before me.
“Breakfast awaits you in the great hall. Your men are preparing for
departure soon after dawn.”

Tomas glanced at the brightening in the eastern sky.
“Well met, Aiden. I am afraid we will have to rematch another
day.”

Too winded for words, Rathenridge saluted with his
sword.

Tomas crossed the field to me. Despite the stink of
sweat, I couldn’t resist answering his smile with one of my
own.

“Feel more confident that I will return?”

Just the possibility that he wouldn’t knotted my
stomach. Some of the anxiety must have reached my face because he
sobered instantly.

“I am sorry. I have lived with the constant reality
of death for so long I have lost the sensitivity of those who
haven’t.”

“Don’t die,” I pleaded. I was all too aware that he
possessed no control over when he would die. Only Kurios held that
power.

He dropped his sword in the dirt, caught my head
between his hands, and took my mouth in a heated kiss. For several
thundering heartbeats, I was aware of nothing beyond him. Finally
releasing me, his black gaze burned into mine.

“If there is breath in my body, Brielle, I will
return to you. I promise.” He pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead.
“Come, wife, let us eat.”

The following hour passed more quickly than I
anticipated it would.

I ate little.

Once Tomas finished working his way through his
repast, he escorted me back to our room to gather his gear. Jarvin
took the saddlebags and disappeared in the direction of the stairs
to the stables. Tomas waited until he was out of sight before
claiming my hands. His tan fingers traced the length of mine.

“I expect we will encounter the caravan on our way to
Wisenvale. We will send them on almost immediately. I will speak
with Darnay and tell him to seek you out.”

“How will I know him?”

“He and Elise will be the only two children in the
caravan. You will know him.”

Tomas kissed the back of my fingers. His mouth
lingered on the one that held the simple gold band symbolizing our
relationship.

“I instructed Horacian to give you the tour of the
castle workings in my stead.” He lowered our joined hands while
still stroking my ring finger. “You are my heir. Should something
happen to me, and I…” He looked into my face, tracing my features
with his gaze. “Before I came to fetch you, I secured a promise
from King Mendal. He will allow you the right to remarry who you
wish and still retain your widow’s portion, half my property.”

“But Darnay– ” His finger pressed against my
lips.

“Darnay will be well provided for. Mendal will
designate a guardian for him and you will be free to do as you
wish.”

I didn’t want to be free. The reality struck me hard.
Memories of the village men leaving and never returning twisted my
stomach. Freedom was not worth Tomas’ life. Before I could tell
him, Antano appeared on the stairs to the hall.

“My lord, the men await you.”

“We are coming.”

He waited until Antano turned before kissing me once
more. “We won’t have much opportunity in the yard.”

He claimed my left hand by intertwining his fingers
in mine. Then he picked up his helmet and led me down the stairs.
The great hall echoed as we strode across it. No one lingered in
the passage, but the massive doors to the inner bailey stood open.
Beyond them, a crowd gathered. Our appearance caused a sensation.
The people parted, clearing a path from the keep doors to the
entrance of the outer bailey where the soldiers waited.

“Ready?” Tomas asked.

“No, but I will manage.”

“The pageantry will all be over soon enough.”

I opened my mouth to explain that was not what I
dreaded, but a trumpet blast from the outer bailey put an end to
conversation. We stepped forward.

People pressed and jostled each other to see us.
Their faces expressed curiosity or boredom. I tried to smile out at
them. It felt like such a farce. They didn’t know us. We didn’t
know them. I barely knew the man at my side. Yet, we all played our
parts. They sent off their lord and champion in grand style and I
acted the role of a dutiful wife left to tend the castle in my
husband’s place.

My chest ached with fear. Tomas might not come back.
Men fell in battle all the time. He could return to find my
management skills lacking. Darnay could hate me.

I shook away the thoughts. No. I couldn’t think that
way. I glanced around at the faces watching us. The Kurios placed
me here for a reason. I needed to trust him and obey.

We stepped beyond the wall separating the baileys. I
gasped at the sight. Easily three hundred men and a hundred horses
crowded the space. Voices rebounded from the stone walls,
intermingled with the neighs and whinnies of the mounts. Early
morning sun glinted off polished shields and weaponry among the
array of colored livery: green, gold, red, brown, midnight blue and
yellow. Our arrival elicited a general cheer followed by a scramble
to mount. The volume rose to such a level I would have had to yell
to be heard.

Antano led Tomas’ mount forward.

After squeezing my fingers a final time, Tomas
dropped my hand to don his helmet. Within moments, he was mounted
and out of my reach. My thoughts rushed forward, filling my head
with questions I wanted answered and things I wanted him to know
before he left.

But, it was too late.

The herald blew the signal to ride.

Tomas, a now familiar figure in plain armor among the
many others of the same, turned his horse toward the gate. He might
have looked back once. I thought he did, but he might have been
checking one of his fellow rider’s distance from him. Regardless, I
raised my hand in farewell.