WolfeShield, page 18
He may have been young, but he wasn’t stupid.
“Not now,” he said, eyeing his father. “I am too tired from running and it would not be fair to me. I came to tell you that standards have been sighted.”
He was diverting his father’s challenge, which wasn’t missed by Blayth. He fought off a grin as he allowed the boy to change the focus. “Colors?” he asked.
“Blue and white stripes.”
Blayth thought on that for a moment. “Blue and white stripes,” he repeated. Then, it occurred to him who it might be. “De Grey?”
“That is what the sentries are saying.”
Blayth didn’t know whether he should be pleased or concerned. He settled for curious. Edmund de Grey was the only de Grey he knew that he ever had any business or dealings with, a man with a big castle near Lancaster and a grip on most of northern Cheshire. That’s why Blayth had wanted an alliance with the man. The House of de Wolfe was already allied with nearly everyone in Northumberland and North Yorkshire, so the de Grey alliance brought in new and powerful blood. It was something that benefitted every de Wolfe castle, ally, and friend.
But he tried to ignore the cost of that alliance.
He had for years.
“I will meet him at the gate,” he told his son. “You will go inside and inform your mother. She will want to make preparations for our honored guest.”
Garr took off running again, nearly tripping as he did so. Blayth watched his boy run off, all arms and legs, before turning his attention to the massive gatehouse of Roxburgh.
Curiosity was turning to apprehension.
There was no real reason he could think of behind a visit from Edmund de Grey and most certainly the man would not have traveled over one hundred miles for a social visit. Blayth was coming to think that perhaps the man had come to ask him for support, which would have been the most logical reason. Or mayhap he had another daughter he wanted to marry off into the de Wolfe clan. In any case, Blayth was ready for him. The answer would be no.
And he waited.
It was a clear day over the Scottish Lowlands, the sky overhead a brilliant blue. Visibility was for miles in any direction and as Blayth stood at the gatehouse, he could see the de Grey party approaching quite clearly. Edmund hadn’t brought an army with him, but he had about three hundred men. It was a big escort for a man who had come to ask for support.
So maybe it wasn’t support he needed.
As preparations in the keep and great hall of Roxburgh were in full swing, Blayth watched the de Grey party cross the river and come to the first of two enormous gatehouses. At the first gatehouse, they could only pass through about three abreast but by the time they reached the second gatehouse, where Blayth was, they were nearly single file. That was a design element that prevented an enemy from rushing into the castle grounds too quickly should the gatehouses be breached. Edmund de Grey, a pale man with graying hair and a hook nose, was riding at the front astride a fine stallion that was worth more than some castles.
He headed straight for Blayth.
“Greetings,” he called out.
Blayth smiled at the man, lifting a hand. “My lord,” he said. “We are honored by your visit. Why did you not send word ahead? We would have met you on the road.”
Edmund waved him off. “No need,” he said. “I did not want to create a big fanfare.”
“I hope your trip was pleasant.”
Edmund reined his horse to a halt, stiffly dismounting as he handed the animal over to a soldier. “Pleasant enough,” he said. “At least the weather held.”
“It has been good weather for several days, at least.”
Edmund looked around at the massive structure of Roxburgh as he pulled off his heavy leather gloves. “I’d forgotten how big this place is,” he muttered. “Magnificent.”
“Thank you.”
Edmund looked at him. “Why do you say that?” he said. “You did not build it.”
Blayth started laughing. “True enough, but it belongs to me,” he said. “Will you come inside and refresh yourself? And then you can tell me why you’ve traveled over one hundred miles, without sending word ahead, just to see me.”
Edmund seemed to demure a little. “I will tell you,” he said. “But give me your best wine first.”
“It shall be done.”
Together, they headed to the great hall, an enormous building that was attached to the keep. Since Roxburgh was built on an island in the middle of the River Tweed, it followed the slender shape of the island. The keep was built with the great hall behind it and other buildings behind that, all in a line. Blayth led the man along the rather slender strip of a bailey flanking the buildings until they arrived at the stone hall.
He ushered him inside.
Blayth’s wife, Asmara, was in the vast hall. Tall, lovely, and brunette, she greeted Edmund politely. Asmara was Welsh, a descendant of kings, and was grace and power personified. She made small talk about the weather and Edmund’s health before making sure there was plenty of food and drink for their guest. She departed the hall to leave the men to their conversation and Edmund sat down, followed by Blayth, who poured a measure of wine for the both of them.
Edmund drank deeply.
“God,” he muttered. “I’d forgotten just how much I hate travel. I’ve not traveled in years, you know. And that stallion of mine has the worst gait of any horse in the land. It is like riding atop a pile of rocks that is constantly in motion.”
Blayth grinned. “I am sorry to hear that,” he said. “He is a beautiful horse.”
“Beautiful and stupid.”
“Would you take a fair price for him?”
Edmund eyed him before breaking down into snorts of humor. “I would not,” he said. “He is too pretty for you and your war machine up here in the wilds of the north. The Scots would want to steal him.”
“That is more than likely true,” Blayth said. He watched Edmund take another drink of wine before speaking. “But you did not come here to speak of stallions or Scots.”
Edmund shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “I hope you realize that only something very important would cause me to travel like this.”
“How may I be of service, Edmund?”
Edmund cleared his throat softly as they came to the point of his visit. “You can punish your son before I do.”
Blayth’s brow furrowed. “Punish my son?” he said, surprised. “I’m assuming you are speaking of Ronan?”
“I am.”
“Why? What has he done?”
“He has impregnated another woman.”
Blayth tried desperately not to let his shock show but he only managed to make himself look angry. “What in the world are you talking about?” he said, incredulous. “My son has never conducted a relationship with anyone other than his wife since the day he married Marian.”
Edmund held up a hand. “Mayhap that was true in the past,” he said. “He has been a faithful husband. But I received word that your son has been carrying on with the widow of Ravenscar and that the woman is pregnant with a de Wolfe offspring.”
Blayth couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Who told you this?”
“Men loyal to me.”
“What men, Edmund?”
It was clear that Edmund was reluctant to elaborate but he knew that he had little choice. “De Grey soldiers within the de Wolfe ranks,” he said. “And before you lecture me about their loyalties, I know you have men that serve others that still report to you, too, so you will not condemn me.”
That was true of most great warlords to a certain extent so Blayth didn’t comment. He was more focused on what Edmund had been told than men spying on his son.
“I know that Ronan went to the manse at Ravenscar to bury his good friend, Dyce de Brito,” he said evenly. “The men who accompanied Ronan to the Middlesbrough tournament, including several nephews, returned several months ago to tell me that. I assumed Ronan was still at Ravenscar administering the lands until a suitable replacement could be found.”
“Did you know about the widow?”
Blayth nodded. “I was told about her,” he said. “But only that there was a widow as the result of Ronan’s friend being killed. From what I was told by my nephews, Ronan promised to take care of the woman and Ravenscar. The promise was made on the man’s deathbed, Edmund. What was he supposed to do?”
Edmund waved him off, irritated. “Did he also promise to bed the woman?” he snapped. “Did you know that Marian accompanied him to Ravenscar for propriety’s sake but that he sent her away shortly after their arrival? Marian has been in London with her cousin for the past few months while Ronan and the widow of his friend are carrying on. Now the widow is pregnant and I demand justice for this slanderous behavior against my daughter.”
Blayth just stared at the man for a moment. In truth, he didn’t trust himself to answer. It was true that he was shocked by the allegations but he was more shocked by Edmund’s self-righteous attitude. Blayth knew the history of Ronan and Marian’s marriage better than anyone, so the more he thought about Edmund’s demand, the more offended he became. He stood up and paced away from the table, contemplating what his reply would be.
“Edmund,” he said slowly, turning to face the man. “May I ask a question?”
Edmund was impatient with the lack of immediate response. “Ask anything.”
Blayth folded his enormous arms across his chest. “When Ronan and Marian’s first daughter was born and she looked nothing like my son and everything like a de Grey knight who had been rather solicitous towards Marian, did I demand satisfaction that your daughter had given birth to another man’s child?”
Edmund’s jaw popped open in outrage. “What do you mean by that?”
Blayth wasn’t going to let the man bully him. “You know exactly what I mean,” he growled. “Marian has given birth to three children, all from different fathers, and everyone in the north knows it. Your daughter was a whore when she seduced my son and she has been a whore ever since. Have I ever demanded satisfaction? Have I ever demanded that you punish her for shaming the de Wolfe name every hour of every day since she took her vows of marriage? I’ve not said a word because I was concerned for our alliance, but if you’ve come here to slander my son with these foolish accusations, I will tell you plainly now that I am no longer concerned for our alliance. If I were you, I would be concerned for the very welfare of my properties. You will not like it if I turn the de Wolfe armies on you. You will not survive.”
Edmund was on his feet by now, shock and fear and outrage rippling across his face. “You dare say such things about my daughter?”
“Deny them. I dare you. I can find a hundred men who would tell you differently.”
Edmund opened his mouth to reply but he knew, as Blayth did, that he couldn’t refute anything that was said for it was all true. It was simply something they never spoke of. Edmund pretended it was a family secret and Blayth never said anything because he was concerned for the alliance, as he had said.
But now… now, no one was concerned for such things any longer.
The situation was deteriorating quickly.
“I will not stand here and let you insult my daughter, de Wolfe,” Edmund said, moving away from the table. “Your son has…”
“My son, if the allegations are proven true, has done nothing your daughter hasn’t done a hundred times over.”
Edmund was starting to turn red in the face. “Then you will do nothing?”
Blayth was tracking the man as he moved near the entry door. “I will not punish him if that is what you are asking,” he said. “I will, however, go to Ravenscar and discover the truth for myself. But I will not let you level threats against Ronan. If he did what you say he did, then he was only following his wife’s example.”
Edmund was so angry that he was twitching. “Speak ill of her one more time and our alliance is finished.”
Blayth cocked an eyebrow. “I want you to listen to me carefully, Edmund, because it is important,” he said with thinly held patience. “I am going to Ravenscar to discover the truth of what you have said. If it turns out to be false, I will march on your home of Borwick Castle and raze it to the ground in punishment for speaking ill against my son. If the rumors prove to be true, however, I will not punish him. I will encourage him to divorce Marian, which he has more than enough grounds to do. I have advised him against it all of these years because I wanted to keep our alliance, but if you say it is finished, then there is no reason for him to remain married to her. I will encourage him to divorce her and it will ruin her. No decent man will ever marry her again.”
Edmund was breathing heavily with pent-up emotion. He wanted to explode at Blayth, but he didn’t want to find himself in a sword fight because he knew he couldn’t win. He’d been able to bully Blayth de Wolfe for ten years, but that domination was ended. Blayth was taking a stand when it came to his son’s reputation and Edmund understood that completely. Frankly, he wondered what had taken the man so long to do it, for Marian had indeed been shaming the de Wolfe name for many years.
Now, it seemed that de Wolfe would have the last laugh.
His stomach began to churn.
“I am her father,” he said, starting to feel some desperation as the tables were turned on him. “Marian was always a… difficult child. Do I know those children she has given birth to are not de Wolfe offspring? Of course I know. But she is my daughter. I am not supposed to see the bad in her. I am only supposed to love her because she is my child.”
Blayth wasn’t in a forgiving mood. “Yet you attack my son based on a rumor,” he said. “I am not sure I can forgive that, Edmund. Ronan… he is special to me. He is my first born. He does not deserve what Marian has done to him.”
Edmund sighed heavily, struggling to gain control of his emotions. “I know,” he said. “He is a good lad. But Marian behaves as she does and he says nothing.”
“Because I told him not to out of respect for the de Wolfe and de Grey names,” Blayth said quietly. “You know this. Sometimes it is better not to say anything at all. That would be giving attention to the situation and sometimes that makes it worse. We all have demons that we struggle with and Marian happens to be Ronan’s.”
Those were wise words. Edmund hung his head. “Then what will you do now?”
“I told you,” Blayth said. “I will go to Ravenscar and discover the truth for myself. But until I do, you will say nothing of the rumors. Keep them to yourself, as I have done with Marian all these years. When I discover the truth, I will send you word.”
Edmund nodded and slowly, wearily, returned to his seat at the table. It seemed that the situation was over, for now, and the dull apprehension of what the future would bring settled. Edmund really didn’t want to break the alliance.
He was starting to feel like a fool.
“Please,” he said quietly. “Please do not seek a divorce. Please do not shame my family like that, Blayth. Although you have every right, I beg you not to do it. It will ruin Marian and her sisters, her nieces… something like that has far-reaching implications. Not just with my family, but with yours as well. It would be a stain we could never recover from.”
Blayth knew that. It was the worst possible social and religious curse for the family of the woman at fault, but it would also disparage the House of de Wolfe, too, for bringing it about. His angry stance began to waver.
“If I do not, then you must speak to your daughter about it,” he said. “I know you have not interfered with Marian’s behavior in the past but know that I will advise Ronan to divorce her if she continues along her present path. If she gives up her wild ways and becomes a good wife, I will not consider it, but if she does not…”
Edmund understood. “Say no more,” he said. “I know what I must do.”
“Then make sure you do it.”
Edmund nodded wearily. “I will,” he said. Then he looked at the table before him. “May I at least rest for the night before going home?”
He sounded utterly defeated. Blayth went back to the table as well, standing opposite of Edmund now rather than next to him, as a friend would. “You may stay as long as you wish,” he said. “But we will not speak of Ronan or Marian anymore.”
“Agreed.”
“Would you like to see Priscilla?”
Edmund’s tired face lit up, just a little. “How is my youngest grandchild?”
Blayth nodded. “She is well,” he said. “I will send for her.”
While Edmund drowned himself in more wine, Blayth headed out of the hall through a servants’ entrance that would take him into the keep. He found that he needed to get clear of Edmund and calm his anger. He was no sooner through it and heading into a dark, stone-lined passage than someone grasped his arm from behind. Startled, he turned to see his wife behind him.
“Christ,” he muttered. “You nearly scared the wits from me. I was about to unsheathe a dagger and start slashing.”
Asmara grinned. “And I would defend myself and you would be in a world of pain,” she said. But she quickly sobered. “I heard what was said, that terrible man.”
Blayth grunted with disapproval. “You know better than to eavesdrop on my conversations.”
Asmara shrugged. “Not when the conversation is with Edmund de Grey and he comes to Roxburgh unannounced,” she said. “I am inclined to cut out that man’s tongue for what he said about Ronan. You know it is not true.”
Blayth nodded. “It would be out of character for him, I agree,” he said. “But Titus told me that the de Brito widow is quite beautiful. A beautiful, vulnerable widow and Ronan never knowing any comfort from his own wife… I am not saying he did what de Grey said he did, but the truth is that he is human. In a moment of weakness, he could have…”
He didn’t need to finish. They both knew that he was right, though Asmara didn’t want to admit it. She had not given birth to Ronan – he was a product of Blayth’s first marriage in the days when he was James de Wolfe, before a severe head injury in battle had robbed him of his memory of his previous life – but she loved the man as if she’d given birth to him. She was fiercely protective of him.
