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Odo eyed him strangely. He pulled the string on the cloak he still wore and drew it off his shoulders. “I will look further,” he said at last. “I am in no hurry. But there is a matter we must discuss that cannot wait.”

Ral turned to a serving maid who crossed the hall. “Bring wine, bread, and cheese to the solar.” He spoke to Odo. “Come. We will talk there.”

As they walked toward the stairs, Caryn appeared through the doorway and hurried in their direction.

Wisps of her flame-dark hair had escaped from her heavy braid, her face was flushed from the work she’d been doing, and her breasts rose tantalizingly beneath her simple brown tunic. Ral’s groin began to grow heavy.

“Odo—” she said. “I did not know you had returned.”

“Aye, my lady.”

“Where is your bride?” Caryn turned to survey the hall. “I am eager to meet her.”

“Odo remains unmarried,” Ral said. “’Tis a long story, Cara. He can tell you about it later.”

Caryn nodded. “How went your search in the village?” she said to Ral. “Have you uncovered the truth of the murder?”

Ral sighed. “Nay, ’twould seem Tosig’s story is correct. Gareth was stealing from the dead man and he did his best to escape.”

“That does not make him guilty of the murder.”

“Nay, and now that the villeins know he is the man they call the Griffin, they seem less certain of his guilt. Many are grateful I continue the search. Some have even agreed to help me.”

Caryn smiled. “I know you will find out the truth. That is all anyone can ask.”

Odo’s expression looked grim. “This murder of which you speak… ’tis possible the guilty man is one of those who rides with the Ferret. ’Tis what I wished to tell you, Ral. The whoreson is returned.”

Ral swore an oath beneath his breath. “I vow I am not surprised. ’Twas only a matter of time till he rebuilt his band, and aye, if he is returned, then ’tis all too possible the traveler was killed by one of his murderous men.

” He urged Odo toward the stairs. “Come, my friend. You can give me the news of your journey and tell me whatever else you know of the Ferret.”

They climbed the stairs to the solar and settled themselves comfortably in tall carved wooden chairs. A serving maid brought wine and cheese while Odo spoke of the raid against the king’s tax collector, of Francois de Balmain’s grave wound, and the loss of King William’s tariffs.

“De Balmain has been collecting revenue for weeks,” Ral said. “He must have been carrying a small fortune in silver and gold.”

“How do you suppose they discovered his route and the date of his travels? Surely ’twas a secret well guarded.”

Ral clenched a fist on the arm of his chair. “For coin enough, there are ways to discover most anything.”

“I suppose that is true.”

“Aye, and you may be certain ’twill work as well for us as it did for the Ferret.”

Odo frowned. “I do not see what you mean.”

“I mean that for money enough, someone will be willing to tell us what it is we need to know. We will soon find out where the whoreson is camped and when we do, he is a dead man. ”

Odo smiled with grim satisfaction. “I am glad I am returned. I would not want to miss the brigand’s comeuppance.”

“’Twill happen, my friend, and it will happen soon.”

***

Caryn worked with Ambra in the great hall.

The slender young woman had won her first battle with Richard, and now kept charge of the stores out in the bailey.

Ambra saw to the granary, the fish pond, and the pigeon house.

She oversaw the garden and the drying of fruits and meats.

Richard served Ral, watched over the livestock, the stables, the manorial court, the crops, and any problems that surfaced among the villeins.

Their lives were busy, but with Caryn acting as chatelaine, managing the kitchen and supplies for the great hall, seeing to the housekeeping, to guests, and overseeing the servants, Richard and Ambra found time for each other.

Caryn smiled at the way things had turned out. Since the day of the boar attack and Geoffrey’s successful recovery, she had been working to heal the sick. Whether accident or illness, if Isolda could not help them, they came to Caryn.

For the first time in her life she felt needed. For the first time since her childhood, since before the death of her mother, she felt as if she belonged.

Caryn straightened a small bright tapestry that hung slightly crooked at one end of the hall.

She was proud of Braxston Keep, proud of what she and Richard, Marta, Bretta, and the others had accomplished.

Duties and responsibilities, she had discovered, were not so unpleasant as she had imagined.

More often than not, they brought a sense of satisfaction.

And the accomplishment was its own reward.

“Lady Caryn!” She whirled to see Leofric’s small thin frame racing toward her. “There is news, milady! Important news! ”

For the first time, Caryn noticed a second boy, a dark-haired child named Byrhtnoth she remembered from the village. He was smaller than Leo and several years younger. Everyone called him Briny.

“What is it, Leo?” she asked. “Hello, Briny.” She reached for the boy’s grubby hand, captured it, and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Briny seen the murder, milady. The traveler on the road—Briny seen the men who done it.”

“What?” She stared down at the olive-skinned boy.

He was the bastard son of a Norman knight who had raped his mother.

The woman had finally married, but the man had little use for his stepson, and among the other children, the boy never quite fit in.

“You saw him, Briny? You saw the man who killed the traveler on the road?”

“He seen ’em, milady,” Leo answered for him. “Briny says there was three of ’em.”

“Did Briny see the big blond knight the villagers brought in?”

“Aye, milady. Everyone seen ’im.”

She bent down next to the boy, squatting at his side so that she could look into his dirt-smudged face. “Was the blond man one of the men who killed the traveler, Briny?”

He shook his head.

“Are you sure?”

“’E come later,” the boy finally said, his eyes cast down, surveying the mud on his bare feet. “’E scared ’em away, ’e did, just by comin’ down the road. The men took the dead man’s ’orse and rode away.”

“Why didn’t you tell someone?” Caryn asked gently.

“He was afraid, milady,” Leo broke in. “Briny don’t much like people.”

Caryn bent over and hugged him. “It’s all right, Briny.

You don’t have to be afraid.” She glanced toward the door, wondering when Ral would return.

He had gone to Oldham, a small nearby village, in search of information on the murder or any news he might garner of the Ferret and his men. Surely he would be back soon.

Caryn smiled down at the boys. “Why don’t you and Briny come with me?” Taking the younger boy’s hand, she led them toward the kitchen. “Just this morning, Cook made apple pasties.”

The little boy’s eyes went wide and he broke into a lopsided grin.

“’Twas well done of you to speak up,” Caryn said to him. “Lord Ral will be pleased with you both.”

And he was, joining the children as soon as she told him the story, listening to their tale with interest, asking questions, then smiling with relief that justice would be done.

“’Twas good that you came forward, Briny. Mayhap, as Leofric has done, we can find a place for you here in the keep.”

Briny looked up at him with huge dark eyes in a face alive with awe. When he nodded, Ral reached down and ruffled his hair. He left the children a few minutes later, and Caryn walked beside him into the great hall.

“See the Saxon released from his bonds,” he called to Lambert, whose lanky frame leaned against the wall near the stairs. “The man is innocent of the murder.”

“Aye, my lord.”

“Speak to Bretta on your way out. Tell her to see to a bath and find the man some decent clothes. A knight such as he should not be forced to leave Braxston Keep in rags.” As Lambert left to do Ral’s bidding, Odo came into the great hall.

“You’ve discovered the truth of the murder?”

“Aye. ’Twas not one man but three. A boy from the village came forward.

He was afraid at first, but from what he has said, there can be no mistake.

The traveler was mounted, not afoot as the villeins believed.

The brigands were after his horse. Gareth’s unexpected arrival sent them on their way before they could finish their plunder. ”

“There is still the matter of the traveler’s purse,” Odo reminded him.

“I have considered that. When Gareth was taken, the money was seized then returned. It has been sent to the murdered man’s family.”

“It makes him no less guilty.”

“These are difficult times, my friend. Especially for those who have been defeated. ’Tis my feeling a man of his courage deserves a second chance.”

Standing close to her husband’s side, Caryn smiled.

Ral was a good man. Strong, brave, and compassionate.

The Dark Knight might be fearsome in battle but there was gentleness within him, a belief in justice, and a fierce sense of honor.

Just the sight of him, standing so tall and proud made her heart go soft and fluttery.

Caryn’s bright smile slipped just a little. No matter her feelings for him, she had no real notion of his. He had never said he loved her, never promised fidelity, never said the words which would ensure a happy future. If he pledged these things, she would believe him without question.

But he had never made such a vow and chances were he never would.

Caryn looked up at him and a sad smile curved her lips.

That he desired her, she did not doubt; the hunger in his eyes rarely left him.

But could he ever come to love her? She doubted it.

Ral believed a man who loved was nothing but a fool.

He had once loved Eliana and she had betrayed him with her brother.

Ral had seen what had happened to Malvern, seen the power a woman could wield.

He was determined it would not happen to him.

Still, she could no longer deny her feelings for him. Instead she prayed she could make him feel those things for her. She clung to those hopes and prayed one day they might come true.

She glanced up as Ral left her, striding off across the great hall, his features suddenly full of purpose.

At the opposite end, she saw a huge, golden-haired giant of a man rise to his feet and walk in her husband’s direction.

It took a moment for her to realize the huge man was the Saxon.

When she did, her eyes went wide with astonishment.

Sweet Blessed Virgin. Never in all her years would she have guessed the man walking toward them with the perfectly chiseled features, finely arched brows, and well-formed lips was the ragged, bearded man who had been locked in the storeroom.

He came to a halt in front of Ral, his bearing erect, massive shoulders squared, his expression intense.

“You are a free man, Saxon,” Ral said with a smile. “What think you of Norman justice now?”

The huge knight shifted uncomfortably. It was obvious that gratitude was not something that came easy to him—especially toward a Norman. Still, he lifted his head and looked Ral straight in the eye.

“You saved my life. ’Tis more than justice you have done. You sought out the truth. There are few Saxon lords who would have gone to that much trouble for a man who was his foe.”

“Is that what you are, Gareth? My foe? Will the day come when I must guard my lands against your rebel forces?”

“Nay, my lord. Those days are done. William’s conquest is complete. Only a fool would rise against him now and I am not a fool.”

Ral nodded, seemingly pleased with the Saxon’s answer.

“What will you do?” Caryn asked him, walking up next to her husband.

“I am not yet certain.”

“You are welcome here at Braxston,” Ral said, “should you wish to swear your fealty and join the ranks of my men. A knight of your valor is always welcome.”

“I thank you, Lord Ral, but I cannot stay. I search for my brother… and there is a woman. Whatever happens, I must seek my own destiny. I am more than determined to find it.”

“Then I wish you godspeed,” Ral said.

“As do I,” Caryn added.

“I won’t forget what you have done.” Gareth smiled and deep grooves etched his cheeks, making him look even more handsome. “Mayhap we will one day meet again.”

“Mayhap,” Ral agreed.

With a nod of farewell to Caryn, the tall knight walked away.

“I wonder what will become of him?” She watched him till he disappeared out the door.

“Hard to say. Once he would have been wealthy. Now…” Ral shrugged his massive shoulders. “Who knows? Mayhap one day his luck will change.”

Caryn thought of the ragged man who had first been brought to Braxston Keep, of the hard times he must have suffered.

It reminded her of the difficult times that lay ahead, of the Ferret and the land they so desperately needed, of the cattle that had died and the winter they must face in the months to come.

She thought of Ral and her uncertain future. Of her love for him that stubbornly continued to grow, of the love from him she so desperately wanted. Gareth’s wasn’t the only luck she hoped would change.