The Agents of William Marshal Volume I: A Medieval Romance Bundle, page 47
It was an impassioned speech and by the time he was finished, Cadelyn was looking at him with wide, astonished eyes. But more than her eyes, it was her expression – as if the sun had suddenly emerged from behind the clouds and all he could see was the bright, radiant glory of it.
“Then why did you tell me it was not true?” she breathed.
He rolled his eyes, hissing with exasperation. “Because nothing can come of it. I told you that. I did not want to give you… hope.”
She watched him as he looked to the ground, a hand going to the lump on the back of his head and feeling it gingerly. The old woman had used the club mostly on his neck because of his helm, and the way she’d hit him had knocked the helm right off. Cadelyn was sorry he had been hit, but not sorry it had forced them both into this moment of conversation.
To satisfy her soul, it was something she very much needed to hear.
“I did not want you to do anything dishonorable,” she said softly. “I suppose… I suppose that I simply needed to know that the attraction I felt between us when we first met was not my imagination. I simply wanted to know that it was real.”
“It was real.”
“I have never known that before, you know,” she murmured. “My poems speak of love and attraction, but I have never known it myself. I told you that. Until I met you, it was all mostly theory, but now I have experienced it.”
He looked at her, then. “And how does it feel, knowing we cannot act upon this attraction that comes so easily between us?”
Cadelyn stared him a moment, inspecting his face; his square jaw covered by the blond beard, his straight nose, and big, blue eyes. Reaching out, she put her palm against his cheek, an impulsive gesture that had him closing his eyes, tightly. But he didn’t pull away. He kept his eyes closed as she cupped his face, running it gently along his scratchy beard, exploring his face in a gesture that was as tender as it was poignant.
“I want to buy my freedom,” she whispered. “If William Marshal wants ninety marks for this contract, then I shall find a way to give him ninety marks.”
Kress sighed sharply, putting his hand over hers as she gently caressed his cheek. “You cannot do it, my lady. He will not accept it.”
“Then I shall refuse to marry Ellesmere.”
“You cannot.”
“I would rather commit myself to the church than marry him. Is that plain enough for you?”
His eyes opened and he looked at her. “If you commit yourself to the church, then you shall marry no one,” he said. “I would not be able to marry you in that case.”
“I am not asking you to. But I cannot, and will not, marry Ellesmere.”
“Is it not better to be the wife of a great earl than a postulate locked away in a cloister?”
“Nay.”
“Why not?”
“Because if you are not the man to touch me, then no man shall.”
His features, usually so unemotional, flickered with sorrow. “You cannot put that burden upon me,” he said. “It is not fair.”
Cadelyn dropped her hand from his face. “I am not trying to burden you,” she said. “I am simply stating a fact. Up until a few months ago, my life at Castle Rising was light and carefree for the most part, and all I had to do worry over was completing my chores and sneaking into town to deliver Yerik my poems. I had always hoped to find a man to marry, a man I could love and who could love me in return, but then I received the news that I was to be married into the House of de Shera. I never asked for it; I did not want it. I had put it out of my mind. Then, I met a handsome knight who looked upon me with eyes that glimmered and told me I was beautiful. He filled my heart with joy, and if that is the only time in my life that I ever feel such a thing, I am content. I was not meant to feel that with anyone else.”
It was such a heartbreaking thing to say, something that broke through any remaining barriers Kress had up. Those imaginary stones he’d put up between them had just been kicked down in their entirety, and he lifted a hand to gently cup her face, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek with warmth and tenderness and sadness.
It was a beautiful, sweet gesture.
“You may,” he whispered hoarsely, looking her in the eye. “But I would be lying if I said I hope you do. Selfishly, I hope it is only, and always, with me. But you are to marry a man you may very well find attraction with and if you do, then I hope you will look upon our moment in the sun with fondness and mayhap some sorrow for what could have been.”
Cadelyn was feeling his gentle kiss all the way to her bones. Her heart was racing madly and all she wanted to do was throw her arms around the man and hold him close.
“I cannot feel for anyone else what I feel for you,” she said. “I swore, even as a child, that I would only give my heart once. Ever since I saw that servant woman and the stable groom kiss in that clandestine meeting, when they parted so painfully. They did not give their hearts easily; I could tell. I swore I never would, either, but it seems I have given it to a man I can never have.”
Kress didn’t know what to say. He simply pursed his lips sadly and dropped his gaze, unable to look her in the eye and see the longing there. He wanted so badly to respond but if he did, he knew all would be lost. He wouldn’t be strong enough to resist her if he gave in to her feelings and he was very close to doing so. Dropping his hand from her silken skin, he reached out to take her hand and hold it tightly.
“I wish things were different,” he said huskily. “I wish I could take you away from here.”
“And marry me?”
He smiled faintly; he couldn’t help it. “My lady, you know nothing about me. Don’t you think you should before you believe you want to be my wife?”
She looked at him curiously. “What more do I need to know? You are a strong, noble knight from a good family, and you are kind and compassionate. There is nothing more I need to know.”
He squeezed her hand. “Since we are being honest about things, then I shall be completely honest with you when it comes to my past,” he said. “You know I went to The Levant, where I served for the duration of King Richard’s campaign. I was part of a very elite group of knights who acted above and beyond the call of duty. This meant we carried out missions from the Christian commanders that other knights would not undertake. Missions that were considered… dark.”
She was listening to him intently. “Dark? What do you mean?”
“Assassinations,” he said without hesitation. “If there was a dirty job to do, then my colleagues and I would do it. There were three of us – Achilles, whom you have met, and another knight named Maxton of Loxbeare. In fact, the Muslims had a name for us.”
“What was it?”
“Faris aljalaad.”
“What does that mean?”
“The Executioner Knights.”
She blinked as his words sank in. “Truly?” she said, awed. “I find that fascinating. Did you do terrible, terrible things?”
Kress had hoped to scare her a little, perhaps take the dreamy glow from her eyes as she thought of him as a strong, noble knight, but it didn’t work. She appeared even more interested than she had before.
“Aye,” he said. “Terrible enough.”
“Like what?”
“Those are not things I will discuss with a lady,” he said. “Suffice it to say that I have committed enough sin that on the day of my death, Lucifer will know me on a first-name basis. The Christians used to call my colleagues and me the Unholy Trinity, in fact, so that should tell you what kind of reputations we earned for ourselves. If there was something terrible that needed to be done, we would do it.”
Cadelyn was fascinated by his past. “That simply means that you are devoted to your duty,” she said. “You did what you were ordered to do. That does not make you wicked.”
He lifted his eyebrows. “Nay, it does not, but you should not hold any illusions that I am a fine, pious knight. If William Marshal ordered me to snap a man’s neck, I would do it without hesitation. Even if that man was a priest. I do what I am told to do and I hold no personal feelings in the matter.”
“What if he told you to snap my neck?”
He looked at her, a smile spreading across his lips. Reaching up, he put his big hand around her throat, so big that it covered up her neck. He snorted softly.
“It is too pretty a neck,” he said.
Cadelyn was oddly serious. “But if I refuse to go through with this betrothal, he might tell you that. What then?”
Kress dropped his hand, the smile fading from his lips. “I would not worry about that if I were you,” he said, “because you are not going to refuse the betrothal.”
She opened her mouth in protest. “I told you that…”
He held up a hand, cutting her off. “Let me finish,” he said. “I want you to understand the importance of this mission and of this betrothal before you make your decision. You see, this entire mission was entrusted to me. I was told to take you to your betrothed. That is my personal mission; to ensure you make it. Now, if I fail to do so, that would damage my reputation and everything I have worked so hard for. Men would hear of this, men I respect, and they would doubt my abilities as a knight and as a man of my word. If you refuse this betrothal, my lady, then I have failed. It is as simple as that. It would ruin me.”
Doubt crossed her face as she thought on that. “I would not want to ruin you,” she said. “But I will not marry the earl.”
“If you do not marry him, I will have failed.”
She sat back and folded her arms over her chest, a defiant gesture that didn’t have much power to it. It was symbolic more than anything. She eyed him, brow furrowed, as she thought on the situation as he presented it.
“Well,” she said reluctantly, “if you were considered a failure, what would you do? Where would you go?”
He sat back, realizing his head, which had only been mildly aching until this point, was beginning to throb. He rubbed at his neck as he genuinely considered her question.
“It is difficult to say,” he said. “I am certain William Marshal would release me from his service. I suppose I could return to France as a mercenary, or head to Scotland. King William is always looking for English knights to help him manage his borders. But I could not inherit my father’s lands. It would go to one of my brothers. I would lose everything.”
At that point, they began to hear voices on the other side of the stone wall, men calling Kress’ name. The old woman was out in the garden with her dog, holding on to the beast as a knight with a big broadsword in his hand stepped through the shattered wooden gate. Kress and Cadelyn could see through the open hut door that it was Achilles, coming through the shattered gate, and Kress lurched to his feet, reaching down to pull Cadelyn up from the ground.
“I am here,” Kress said, hand still to the back of his head as he went to the door. “I found the lady. She is unharmed.”
Achilles was followed by Bric, a few soldiers, and eventually Susanna. Cadelyn, who was behind Kress, saw his helm lying over near a corner where it had landed when the old woman had smacked it right off of his head. She handed it to him just as Achilles and Bric reached him.
“What happened to you?” Achilles wanted to know. “Did you not hear us? We have been calling your name.”
Kress glanced at Cadelyn before he spoke. “I did not hear you,” he said. “I was chasing that stupid dog and ended up hitting my head somehow. But I found the lady and that is all that matters.”
All eyes turned to Cadelyn, who gazed back at them steadily. “I am sorry to put you all through so much trouble,” she said. “I… I was trying to find my way back to the carriage and lost my way.”
Susanna had come up behind Achilles. Very concerned, she reached out to grasp Cadelyn’s arm. “You are covered in mud,” she said. “What happened? Why did you run off?”
Cadelyn leaned over and whispered something in Susanna’s ear. From the look on Susanna’s face, it seemed that Cadelyn’s running away had been more along the lines of a call of nature. That seemed to explain things, at least for the most part, so she nodded quickly.
“Of course, my lady,” she said, pulling her along. “Let us return to the carriage now. Let us not be any further trouble upon these men.”
Achilles and Bric appeared confused by the whole thing, looking between Cadelyn and Kress, who was without his helm and sporting a big bump behind his right ear.
“What happened?” Achilles asked Kress. “Where did the lady go?”
Kress watched as Susanna forcibly escorted Cadelyn from the garden. In truth, he was coming to think that he was rather glad she’d run off because it had given them the opportunity to speak of things that were clouding the mood between them. Kress had let his guard down, something he’d been determined not to do, but now that he’d cleared the air, he had to admit he felt better.
Lighter of spirit.
But he also realized the time they’d spent alone had done something to him. Whatever he was feeling for her, something that was trying very hard to break free from, had deeply affected him. As he watched Susanna lead Cadelyn from the garden, he realized that he didn’t want to let Cadelyn out of his sight. There was an attachment there that hadn’t been there before. As unhealthy as it was, he simply couldn’t help it.
He wasn’t sure he wanted to.
“Evidently, she had a natural urge we all have quite frequently and she got lost along the way,” he said. “Leave it at that, Achilles. Do not embarrass the woman by asking her about it.”
Achilles caught on, indicating to Bric what the issue was by making motions as one does when relieving oneself. Bric understood instantly and they both followed Kress from the garden, but not before Kress tossed a coin to the old woman for her troubles. The dog watched him go, wagging his tail, but once Kress and his men were out of the garden and heading back to the escort, the big, hairy dog broke free of the old woman and ran after the knights, following them all the way to the carriage.
When Kress opened the door to the carriage for Cadelyn to get in, the dog leapt in first and ran to the front of the carriage, hunkering down on one of the cushioned benches and refusing to leave no matter how much Kress or the others called to him. They even tried to lure him out with a piece of meat from the provisions wagon, but nothing worked. The last resort was to carry the dog out, but the dog growled and snapped at the knights when they tried to do it.
Frustrated, and weary of the drama the dog had caused, Kress simply left the animal alone, noting that Cadelyn had now picked up another escort of the four-legged variety. He sent a soldier to tell the old woman that he’d try to bring her dog back to her at some point, but the old woman didn’t seem to care.
He picks his own people, she said. If he’s meant to come back, he will.
The purse thief had found a new home.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The Paladin
“Your news was well-met, great lord. We have come to greet your bride, my daughter.”
In the outer bailey of The Paladin on a morning that threatened rain from the sea, Tatius faced about thirty Welshmen who had arrived just after dawn. Led by the middle-aged woman who called herself Nesta, they had come astride their shaggy horses, wearing the long tunics and cloaks so prevalent to the Welsh people. They came with staffs and bows, but the guards at the gatehouse had made them leave their weapons outside of the gates. Now, Tatius and Atilius and Fabius were facing the Welsh contingent from Mountain Dark.
This was not the way Tatius had hoped to start his day.
“She is not here,” Tatius said to Nesta. “I am not certain when she will arrive and I would prefer you not be here when she does. The agreement was that we would bring her to Mountain Dark for the wedding, not that you would be at The Paladin to greet her.”
Nesta stepped forward. A petite woman with blonde hair and black eyes, she approached Tatius calmly. She was older, but her skin was smooth and white, with nary a line upon it. Still, there was something in those black eyes that was disturbing. She had a brittle look to her, as if there was something dark lying just below the surface.
As if she would praise a man one moment and slit his throat in the next.
“I’ve not seen my daughter in eighteen years, great lord,” she said, a plea to Tatius. “Not since her father stole her away from me and gave her over to the Saesneg to hide. Did you know that? Owain, my own husband, took her away from me. You can understand that I am eager to see her.”
Tatius eyed the woman. “You never did explain why your husband took her away from you.”
Nesta’s gaze flickered over with something ugly. Deadly. “Fear, mayhap,” she said. “Fear I might turn our child into a true Welshman. Fear he would lose control over her.”
“Mayhap he feared that you would use her to gain back your kingdom.”
“She is a child of destiny. And her destiny is to restore her people.”
Tatius had heard this before, or at least most of it. But coming to know this situation as he did, he was coming to think that the child’s father must have seen what his wife was capable of and fearing for the child, sent her to England where her mother couldn’t get to her. All Nesta wanted was to rebel against her own people, and the English overlords, a war she could not win. Even Tatius knew that. He was coming to regret ever agreeing to be a part of this scheme.
The more time passed, the more he simply wanted out of it.
“What became of Owain?” he asked.
