Spectre of the Sword (31 page)

Rhys had gone to the
stables. It wasn’t difficult to track his footprints in the snow.  Christopher
found him just inside the door, adjusting the blanket on his charger.  He
seemed to be very busy at it, but during this time, Rhys seemed to be very busy
at everything he did. He was constantly moving as if fearful that if he
stopped, the emotions he was trying to hard to stay in control of would finally
catch up and swamp him. Christopher came up behind him, watching him fidget
with a strap.

“I will apologize for my
wife,” he said in a quiet voice. “She is a sassy wench in the best of times and
pregnancy makes it worse.  I am sorry if she overstepped herself.”

Rhys didn’t acknowledge
him for a moment. Then, his movements slowed to the point of stopping
altogether. In a very rare display of relaxation, perhaps surrender, he leaned
heavily on the horse.

“She reminds me of her,”
he muttered.

“Who?”

“Elizabeau,” Rhys turned
to look at him, the brilliant blue eyes dull. “Lady Dustin reminds me of
Elizabeau.  Their personalities are almost identical.”

Christopher smiled
weakly. “Then God help us all,” he sobered, eyeing Rhys for a long moment. “I
remember seeing an example of that at Hyde House. Do you recall? When I was
trying so desperately to remove the two of you from London and she put up such
a battle? I would have liked to have spanked her for that show of resistance
but… well, I folded like an idiot.  I was glad that she was your problem and
not mine.”

Rhys was staring at the
horse’s back.  A smile spread across his lips as he remembered the memory de
Lohr had just painted. “There were times I wished she was someone else’s
problem, too. She was insolent, sassy, disagreeable and belligerent. And that
was just the first day. But after that….”

He trailed off, shaking
his head as his smile faded.  Christopher could feel the mood sinking again.

“Rhys,” he said in a low
voice. “I know that Dustin does not understand what is in a man’s heart at
times.  She sees it from a woman’s point of view.  She does not understand how
something like this can destroy a man far more than weapons or warfare ever
could.  God knows, I have no idea how I would react if something happened to my
wife.  I cannot say that I would not crumble. But I am asking you, not only as
your liege, but as your friend, to hold yourself together.  We need your
strength if we are going to retrieve the lady from her prison.”

Rhys chewed his lip in
thought a moment before turning to Christopher. “Do you know what is making me
the most miserable?” he said, his guard failing completely. “The fact that even
when we retrieve her, it is only to hand her over to another man. I do not even
get the pleasure of a reunion.  I will save her from one prison only to turn
her over to another.”

Christopher stared at
him, trying not to show how much sympathy he had for the situation. “You have
been a full fledged knight since you were seventeen years old,” he rumbled.
“You know the knightly code of honor and duty better than anyone.  You knew
when you took this mission that the lady was to remain a task and nothing
more.  You broke with that code and brought about your own misery. I hate to be
cruel, Rhys, but you know it’s true.  There is nothing any of us can do about
it.”

“Perhaps I can help,”
came a voice from the barn entry.

Both Christopher and
Rhys turned to see Conrad entering the dim, warm stable. With him was one of
his generals, the tall blond man who seemed to command the rest.  But he stood
back as Conrad moved into the barn and smiled timidly at the men. He knew that
he was intruding but he also knew that he must.  He had known for months about
the situation between his intended, whom he had never even met, and this
colossal knight with the brooding countenance.  He had, in fact, worked with
Rhys for the past three months and had found him to be the most efficient
knight he had ever seen.  Never once did he blame the man for his lady’s abduction. 
None of them did.  In fact, he felt a great deal of sympathy for him and it had
taken him a very long time to summon the courage to speak about it.  Now seemed
to be that time.

“I am sorry for
intruding,” he said in his thick accent. “But I must
sprechen sie
.
Speak. 
Ich muss sprechen
.”

Christopher spoke first.
“What about, my lord?”

Conrad was looking at
Rhys. “The lady,” he said. “I… I feel the same as Sir Rhys does, only I feel it
for someone else.”

Rhys struggled to get
past his sense of animosity for the man; it was difficult to look at him and
not feel overwhelming bitterness and hatred. “What do you mean?”

Conrad took a few timid
steps towards Rhys, his pale face serious. “I know that you are in love with
Lady Elizabeau,” he spoke such poor English that it was difficult to understand
him. “I only wish to help so that we are all happy. I am in love with your
sister.”

That admission propelled
Rhys off the back of the horse and he stood straight, his brilliant blue eyes
blazing.  Startled by his reaction, Christopher put a hand against the man’s
chest to prevent him from charging the frail prince. 

“You’re in love with
my…?” Rhys’ shock turned to rage. “Why in the hell would you tell me that? I
swear, by all that is holy, if you have taken advantage of her, I’ll kill you
where you stand.”

Conrad could see that
his admission wasn’t having the desired effect.  He was terrified at the man’s
huffing reaction and he took several steps back, putting his hands up in an
attempt to ease him.

“
Ich habe sie nicht
berührt
,” he said hurriedly, then swallowed and struggled to translate. “I…
I have not touched her. I would not do that.  I tell you all because I feel for
Carys as you feel for Elizabeau. I do not want to marry Elizabeau. I want to
marry Carys.”

Rhys’ huffing came to a
strangled and abrupt halt.  Even Christopher looked at the young prince in
surprise.  Rhys stared at the man as his fury began to die.

“You want to marry my
sister?” he repeated.  Then he looked confused. “You are not making any sense.
How is this helping?”

Conrad did not speak
plain enough English to adequately get his point across.  He sighed with
frustration, wringing his hands as he tried to think through his words.

“I am told that Lady
Elizabeau has red hair,” he said.

Rhys was even more
confused. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Does she?”

The knight eyed him,
nodding slowly. “She does.”

“And your sister has red
hair.”

“Aye, she does. And your
point?”

Conrad sighed again and
began making odd, roundabout gestures with his hands. “
Wir schalten sie.
Schalter
. Change.”

Rhys still wasn’t
following but, suddenly, the light of understanding went on in Christopher’s
eyes. He entered the conversation with a manner that was both suspicious and
disbelieving.

“Are you suggesting that
we switch the women, my lord?” he asked.

Conrad looked at him and
made the strange hand gestures again. “
Schalter
. Change.  Trade.”

Christopher looked
struck. “Are you saying you want to exchange the Lady Elizabeau for the Lady
Carys?”

Conrad nodded so hard
that his blond hair flipped over his eyes. “
Ja, ja
. I will marry Carys
and he will marry Elizabeau. They both have red hair so no one will know
different.”

Christopher’s jaw
dropped. “You must be mad.”

Conrad looked hurt.  “
Nein
,
my lord. Not many people have seen Lady Elizabeau. Not many people have seen
Carys.  No one will know different since they both have red hair.”

Until this point, Rhys
was standing in complete shock. He could not believe what he was hearing.  His
first reaction was the same as Christopher’s, but as he thought on it, he
suddenly began to feel as if the heavens were opening up and the blinding light
of God was shining directly upon him, giving a clear understanding of what was
being suggested.  It was a brilliant scheme. It gave him hope. Still, he could
hardly comprehend it.

“But…,”he came away from
Christopher’s still-upstretched hand. “Elizabeau’s hair is not the same shade
of red; it is more golden.  Carys’ is very red. Moreover, they have differently
colored eyes.  Carys’ are brown, Elizabeau’s are green.  They do not look much
alike.”

Conrad looked at him and
Rhys could see the same longing he himself felt.  The man is in love with Carys
yet searching for a woman he does not want to marry.  It struck Rhys like a
bolt and he literally stumbled. He was astonished.

“My people have never
seen Elizabeau,” Conrad said softly. “They would not know any different.  How
many people in England would know the Lady Elizabeau on sight? I think no one
will know one red haired woman from the other.”

Rhys and Christopher
stared at the young prince.  Christopher eventually turned away and wandered a
few feet to collect his thoughts.  But Rhys stood there with his heart pounding
in his throat.

 “This is not merely
about Elizabeau,” he said hoarsely. “This is also about my sister. You are
speaking of two women I love dearly and I do not want to see either one
unhappy.  How does Carys feel about you?”

Conrad smiled and his
pale cheeks gained a bit of color. “She adores me as I adore her.  We are very
happy together, your sister and I.  She cried when I left to come and find
Elizabeau. It was very difficult for me to leave her.”

Rhys thought about his
young sister, so lovely and bright.  He began to think about her as a consort
for a prince, posing as the bastard daughter of Geoffrey of Brittany.   Then,
as suddenly as hope for the situation had come, it was dashed just as swiftly
by dark, horrible thoughts.

“If she poses as
Elizabeau, she will have to live in fear of assassins for the rest of her life,”
he felt his veins run cold.  “She will be thrown into the political arena
without any knowledge of what she is truly getting in to.  She’ll be food for
wolves and I cannot, in good conscience, knowingly allow that. She is my baby
sister.”

Christopher turned to
look at him from several feet away. “It is a foolish idea, Rhys. There is no
way that I, as a member of the court and English nobility, could knowingly
allow what the prince is suggesting. It would be treason of the highest degree.
Moreover, you forget that de Burgh has seen Lady Elizabeau.  He will know the
deception immediately.”

Conrad moved towards
Rhys, his fair face desperate. “But this is for the good of everyone,” he
pleaded. “Your sister knows who I am. I have already told her of this plan and
she has agreed.  I will protect her from those who would seek to do her harm; I
have very good men that will see to her safety.  And you… you could marry
Elizabeau and come back with us to Saxony. You would be able to see to the
protection of your sister if you did and Lady Elizabeau could serve as my
wife’s lady.  Do you not see this? It is a perfect plan.  It is only right that
we marry the women that we love!”

He ended on a passionate
cry.  Rhys stood leaning over the back of the horse, unable to think straight. 
It made so much sense to him but, for Carys’ sake, he was more torn than
before. He looked beseechingly to Christopher, who focused on the prince.

“My lord,” Christopher
made his way back over to the man. “Although your logic is sound, this is an
impossible scheme. Rhys and I are doing as we are ordered and so are you.”

Conrad’s cheeks turned a
deeper shade of red. “I am a prince,” he tried to sound intimidating but it
ended up coming out as a trembling sentence. “I give orders, I do not take
them. I will break this betrothal with Lady Elizabeau and marry Carys.”

Christopher was on very
delicate ground but maintained his customary cool. “I understand your
frustration, my lord, but in this case, surely you understand the need to stay
the course.  You are promised the throne of England if you marry Lady
Elizabeau.”

“I do not want the
throne!” Conrad snapped. “I want to marry Carys. I
will
marry Carys.”

Christopher lifted an
eyebrow. “If you break this betrothal, you will have made an enemy out of
England. Are you willing to accept that responsibility? Do you think your
uncle, the Holy Roman Emperor, will understand?”

Conrad backed down,
looking uncertain and miserable.  He changed his approach and fixed on
Christopher. “Please, mein herr… can you not see how miserable we are? Can you
not help us to be with the women we love?” He gestured towards the keep. “I see
that you love your wife.  Can we not know the same happiness?”

Now it was back on
Christopher and he did not like it one bit. He sighed sharply, hearing Conrad’s
soft plea and knowing the truth of it.  He was in sympathy, that was true, but
he also understood his sense of duty better than most. What Conrad was
suggesting was sedition.

Conrad put his hands
out, imploringly. “Please,” he begged again, softly. “Will you not help us?”

Christopher just looked
at him, mulling over the request and all of the implications involved.  He was
about to open his mouth when David suddenly appeared in the doorway.