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T hane found Andrew in the stables.

Torridon had two big banks of stalls lined up against the wall in the outer bailey, walls that had seen some damage in the most recent battle with the Dalmellington forces.

The big war horses were crowding up most of the stalls, individually, because they had to be separated.

Put too closely together and they would fight.

Thane found Andrew in one of the stable banks, right at the mouth of it with his fat, bad-tempered destrier.

“I thought I would find you here,” Thane said. “What would you have of me, my lord?”

Andrew was bent over the right front leg, running his hands along the fetlock. “What do you mean?”

“I mean to ask when you are leaving to ride to kill your brother and what you would have me do in your absence. What would you have me tell the king?”

Andrew let go of the leg and stood up, pretending to busy himself with inspecting the horse when what he was really doing was mulling over the exact plans that Thane was asking about.

“Keep your voice down,” he muttered. “There are king’s men all over this place. I do not wish they should hear you.”

Thane understood. “Then you are riding to Haldane?”

Andrew nodded, glancing at Thane as he moved around the horse. “As fast as I possibly can,” he said. “But this horse is not known for his speed. In battle, he is immovable, but when I need speed, this is not the beast.”

“We have others you can ride.”

Andrew nodded. “And I shall,” he said. “We have several horses corralled outside in the camp. I am thinking of riding that leggy black stallion we received in payment for the job in Bonchester Bridge. Do you remember?”

Thane nodded. “A fine animal,” he said. “Very fast. But is he dependable?”

Andrew shrugged. “We shall find out,” he said.

Then, he stopped fussing with his horse and looked at Thane.

“I intend to depart before dawn. I intend to cover at least thirty miles every day, which means I shall make it to Haldane in a little more than two days. Give me a day to kill my brother and then I shall return. Josephine, and the king, must remain at Torridon for at least that long. Joey says she can keep the man here, but I have my doubts. The man is wily. She may need your help.”

Thane nodded. “I shall do what I can,” he said. “But… Andrew?”

“Aye?”

“What if you do not return? What then?”

Andrew didn’t want to think of that. He was The Red Fury, was he not?

He was as invincible as his reputation, but he knew, deep in his heart, that barging into Haldane and killing his brother would not be a simple thing.

He was well aware of the risks and even though he didn’t want to admit it, or talk about it, he knew it was necessary.

With a heavy sigh, he leaned against the horse.

“If I do not return in seven days, assume I will never return at all,” he said quietly.

“Move the army out and take them to Castle Questing. My cousin, Roan, serves William de Wolfe at Castle Questing. You remember Roan, do you not? Questing would be the best place for Josephine. The king would not dare tangle with de Wolfe or de Longley, or any of those allies. Take the army there and turn Josephine over to Roan. For mercy’s sake, Thane, do not leave her here. I am depending on you.”

Thane nodded sharply. “I will defend her with my life,” he said. “But even if I do give her over to Roan, de Wolfe will want to know the value of the lady. If the king and your brother come for her…”

Andrew was so very disappointed by the mere thought. William de Wolfe was a man of great power, and they were loyal friends, but Andrew understood if William didn’t want to risk his family against the King of Scotland. In truth, only a fool would.

“If de Wolfe will not protect and defend her, then put d’Aurilliac in charge of the army and take Josephine to Cornwall,” he said.

“I have another cousin, Dennis d’Vant, who lives there.

He is the commander of St. Austell Castle.

Tell Dennis that Josephine is my wife and that my brother wants her.

Dennis knows Alphonse; he will not let him have her, not under any circumstances. ”

Thane knew Roan d’Vant, but he had only heard of Andrew’s cousin, Dennis. He’d never met the man. “Your father and Dennis’ father were cousins, were they not?”

Andrew nodded. “Dennis’ father, my father, and Roan’s father all shared the same grandsire,” he said. “Dennis is a good man. If I do not return… you will tell Dennis that I died protecting Josephine from my brother. He will keep her safe.”

Thane nodded, but it seemed to him as if he was doing an awful lot of swearing to risk his life for a woman Andrew had only known a few days. Still, he knew what the woman meant to Andrew. As Thane had known all along, men in love were fickle and foolish creatures.

But Andrew was his liege and he loved the man like a brother. There was no sacrifice too great that he would not make to preserve Andrew or Andrew’s legacy.

He only hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

*

It was late afternoon and Josephine and Justine were in the kitchen, overseeing preparations for the evening meal.

As the men worried over how to counteract the king’s directive, Josephine found solace in a normal routine, and part of that was the coming meal.

The cook was in the process of making cakes in the shape of the de Carron serpent and was entertaining herself by yelling at the kitchen servants.

The hot, steamy kitchens were full of targets for her to aim for.

“Now, where is my butter?” the cook asked, fuming. “How can I make the rest of my cakes without my butter?”

Justine was tasting the tangy plum sauce for the cakes and didn’t hear the woman, but Josephine did.

“I shall go to the buttery,” she said.

The cook appeared appalled. “With all of these lazy young things slithering around my kitchen?” she sneered. “Nay, my lady, let me send one of them. Ye there, lad! Aye, ye ! Get up!”

Josephine was already at the door. “Never mind,” she said as the small boy struggled to his feet. “I shall return shortly.”

As the cook harassed the boy for not being fast enough, Justine’s attention was on her sister.

Josephine had told her of the king’s directive and they’d both had a good cry over it.

In truth, Justine was still close to tears.

But she knew that by keeping busy, it helped Josephine forget the troubles of the day.

Therefore, she picked up her spoon and resumed stirring the plum sauce as the cook shifted from berating the boy to screaming at a hapless young girl.

Outside of the rather loud and hot kitchen, Josephine trudged through the dirt as she headed for the buttery.

Given that it was nearing sunset, the soldiers were changing shifts on the walls and the kitchen servants were rushing about madly to prepare for the coming feast. She passed by the postern gate that led from the yard out through the ten-foot thick walls and into the fields beyond.

The heavily-fortified gate was open as men brought in supplies from the fields, and she slowed her pace, glancing to the green landscape beyond.

Such beauty out there and such peace. When she’d been a child, she’d run freely beyond the walls of Torridon, but those days were long gone.

There was sadness with that thought, but there was also the desire to relive those carefree days.

After a moment’s indecision, for she knew she was expected back, she veered from the buttery path and passed through the tunnel to gaze at the freedom beyond.

She was aching for just a few brief moments to remind her that all was not troubled in the world.

There was a gentle breeze coming off the rolling hills, blowing at her netted hair until she pulled off the net and shook her head, letting her hair tumble free. The wind tugged at the skirt of her cote, outlining her shapely legs as she took the first bold steps away from Torridon.

As soon as she passed through the gate, something caught her eye.

She looked in the distance and saw a redheaded figure sitting under a tree, and a tall blond man sword-playing around him.

She realized it was Nicholas de Londres and Donald Muir enjoying what was left of the day. Quickly, she headed in their direction.

The men saw her approach. Nicholas had a quill, ink, and a leather-bound book in his lap, but he rose from his seated position and Donald quieted his swordplay. She smiled at them, slapping her net against her leg as she walked.

“And what might you fine men be doing outside of the safety of the fortress?” she asked.

Nicholas grinned. “It was such a fine day that I had to come up here, away from the noise and smell of the castle,” he said in his sweet tenor voice.

“And I followed!” Donald said wittily, bringing his sword up. “The man needed an escort. Look at him; he’s as gentle as a lamb.”

Nicholas smiled in embarrassment. “Would ye sit, my lady?” he asked.

Josephine folded her legs under her and the blue silk gown bellowed elegantly as she sat on the grass. Nicholas sat next to her and Donald resumed his practicing.

“Donald,” she said, as she squinted up at him. “Your stance is too closed!”

Donald scowled at her, but took her advice. Chuckling at his pride, Josephine turned to Nicholas. He was watching Donald but his gaze seemed to be distant.

“You look pensive,” she observed. “What are you thinking about?”

Nicholas looked at her, smiling with some embarrassment to realize he’d been observed. “I am simply examining my surroundings, my lady,” he said. “It is quite lovely here.”

“My name is Josephine,” she informed him. “Please call me by my name. And I agree; it is quite lovely this time of year.”