Page 69

I t was noon on the day after the night raid by the reivers and William was feeling that familiar exhaustion he seemed to feed off of.

The exhaustion of a night of tension as a battle waged in the distance, but it was something that was as familiar to him as his own face. It was as much a part of him, as well.

The scent of battle.

The morning was dawning bright and lovely, but quite cold, and he stood on the wall next to the big iron braziers that had burned all night long, with peat, keeping the men warm.

After the battle in Coldstream and the return of the men, he’d remained on the wall with his own men from Castle Questing, his seat, watching the roads and the woods in the distance for any sign of retaliation, but as the morning dawned, there was no sign of movement.

That was a good thing.

With the land beyond the walls quiet, William was seriously considering seeking out Thomas, who had returned a short time earlier.

As Thomas’ liege, since all of this was his property, William wanted to know about the fight in Coldstream and Thomas’ assessment of the enemy.

Wark Castle literally sat on the border between England and Scotland, and Thomas had seen more than his share of action since assuming command, and he’d been very good at assessing the enemy.

The man knew his way around military tactics well.

William finally decided to make his way off the wall and seek out his son, who he had seen disappear into the great hall not a half-hour earlier.

As he crossed the outer bailey and approached the hall, Thomas emerged with Jordan and Lady Bowlin.

William beckoned to his son, who left the women as they continued on towards the keep.

“Christ, Tommy,” William hissed. “It is freezing out here. Why are you shirtless?”

Thomas pointed to the even stitches in his shoulder. “I just had my wound tended.”

William peered at the injury, about three inches long. “It does not look too bad,” he said. “Tell me what happened in Coldstream.”

Thomas sighed heavily, his breath coming out as fog against the chill morning air.

“Reivers,” he said. “At first, I thought it was some of those clans you’d summoned to your conference those months ago, but I quickly realized that the clans were trying to fight off the reivers, who had attacked the village of Duns. ”

William nodded grimly. “The reivers again,” he muttered. “How many?”

“I am not entirely certain, but at least forty or fifty,” Thomas replied. “I think it was that group that lives off to the east, between Wark and Etal, but I cannot be certain. They call themselves the Thurrock Cú .”

“What makes you think it was them?”

“Their horses. They stole horses from Wooler last year and there were several pale horses among the group,” he said. “Now, that group rides those pale horses and I am fairly certain that I saw them.”

That made sense to William. “What did you do?”

Thomas shrugged. “We outnumbered them, but they are cunning, as you know,” he said. “We ended up pushing them back up against the cliffs that overlook the river and driving them right over the cliffs.”

William’s eyebrows lifted. “ All of them?”

“Most of them,” Thomas said. “Papa, you know that it is not enough to simply drive them away. Drive them away and they only appear somewhere else. We must eliminate them.”

William nodded. “I could not agree more,” he said. “Driving them over the cliff was a brilliant move. It should have killed some of them, but not all of them. The drop really isn’t enough to kill them, but they could easily drown.”

“I know.” Thomas scratched at his head, tweaking his wound and then gingerly rotating his shoulder because it hurt. “It did not kill all of them, but it thinned their ranks.”

William thought on that. “Well,” he said finally, “it will cause them to regroup, anyway. Mayhap we shall have a reprieve from their raids for a time.”

Thomas wasn’t so sure. “I know that Northwood Castle is having an even worse time than we are,” he said. “Hector came to visit last month and said the reivers have been so bold that they try to tie up Northwood so the army cannot open the gates as a group of them raid the village.”

“We are fortunate they did not do that to Wark.”

“Agreed.”

William pondered the reivers a moment longer before spying someone coming out of the keep.

Edmund de Vauden was up very early for some reason, and William zeroed in on the man.

He hadn’t had the opportunity to speak to him last night about the betrothal between Thomas and Adelaide, and now that he spied the man alone, he was keen to have the conversation that had been the whole point of inviting Edmund to Wark.

Putting his hand on his son’s good shoulder, he turned him for the keep.

“That is enough for this morning,” he said. “Go inside and sleep. Your mother and I will watch your castle and your men while you do.”

Thomas shook his head. “Papa, I am perfectly capable of functioning without sleep,” he said. “It is you and Mother I worry over. Neither one of you is getting any younger.”

William cast his son a sidelong glance. “Will you tell your mother that to her face?”

Thomas grinned. “Not me,” he said. “And if you tell her I said that, I will deny it.”

“She will not believe you.”

“Then I shall run very fast.”

William smirked, giving his son a little shove in the direction of the keep. “Go,” he said, his gaze finding Edmund as the man hurried towards the warmth of the hall. “I have business with Edmund now that he is awake.”

Thomas saw Edmund, too, as the man rushed through the outer bailey. “About his witch of a daughter?”

William’s gaze lingered on Edmund for a moment before he began to walk away. “That is for me to know,” he said. “I will see you later.”

Leaving Thomas standing there, suspecting what his father was going to speak to Northumbria about, William picked up the pace and rushed to intercept Edmund before the man could get to the great hall.

He almost didn’t make it because Edmund moved surprisingly fast, but he managed to catch him before he could make it to the entry.

Literally, he put himself between Edmund and the door.

“Good morn to you, Edmund,” William said pleasantly. “What has you up so early?”

Edmund appeared tired and cold, his nose pinched red. “I could not find any servants in the keep,” he said, disgusted. “It seems that I must get my own food this morning, de Wolfe.”

William’s attempt to be kind and polite was already being tested. “The servants were required to tend to the wounded in the hall,” he said. “You know that the army rode out to defend Coldstream last night and we have wounded as a result. My apologies for having disrupted your morning.”

Edmund grunted with disapproval. “Is the skirmish over?”

“It is, for now.”

“Good. I am leaving today. I do not wish to be where there is fighting going on.”

William’s patience was thinning. “You are a border lord, Edmund,” he said. “You know there can, and will, always be some manner of fighting. Twizel Castle belongs to you and it protects a very important bridge over the River Tweed. There is constantly fighting there.”

Edmund looked at him in frustration. “That is true, but I am not there,” he said, snappish. “I am safe at Kyloe Castle, which is a goodly distance away. I do not make it a habit of being at castles that are under siege.”

William could see that the conversation was never going to be pleasant.

It was probably only going to get worse, given Edmund’s agitated state because he’d had to seek his own food, so he decided to bring up the subject he needed to speak with the man about, especially if Edmund was departing Wark soon. William didn’t want to miss his chance.

“Then I apologize for your discomfort,” he said, “but the reason I invited you to Wark was because I have a need to speak with you. Would you care to go inside out of the cold so that we may discuss it?”

Edmund eyed him, wary of William’s words. “Speak to me of what?” he asked.

So the man wasn’t going to make it easy for him, nor did he intend to seek a warm haven. William was starting to become irritated. “It would be better if we go inside out of the cold,” he said. “Come inside and let us break our fast together.”

He started to move, but Edmund didn’t. He stood there, looking at William. “ What did you want to speak of?”

Now, William’s goodwill towards the man, or at least the attempt of it, was gone. If Edmund intended to be difficult, then William was fully capable of delivering the same.

“Very well,” he said, folding his big arms across his chest. “I will begin. You lied to me.”

Edmund blinked. “I lied to you? About what?”

“Your daughter,” William said. “When you approached me with this betrothal, you never once mentioned how rude, unstable, and unpleasant your daughter was. You never mentioned that she cuts her arms to gain attention. You never mentioned how completely unpredictable she was, not once, Edmund. All you told me was that she is a great heiress, set to inherit the entire Northumbria fortune and, with that, you lured me in with false promises. Do you deny this?”

Edmund’s face was red, his jaw working furiously. “How dare you insult my daughter,” he hissed. “How dare you…”

William cut him off. “Do you deny any of this?” he asked, more slowly. “Do you deny she cuts her arms to gain attention? Well?”

Edmund’s mouth was working, stunned by the conversation, clearly caught in a situation of his own making. But there was no way he was going to admit anything and even though William was on to him and his game, he was very good at playing the victim.

“She is a woman of great feeling,” he said. “You do not understand her. She is passionate in nature.”