Montague - The Warlord Part 7

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"Have you considered," Kenric asked between clenched teeth, "that I let you win?"

"Hah! You are the liar!" Royce shoved one hand against Kenric's shoulder, but Kenric turned his body to let the blow brush by. "You have shamed every honest knight with your cheating ways and need to die!"

Royce drew his sword, but Kenric was quicker, easily deflecting the ill-planned blow. The circle of boys widened, some yelling encouragement to Royce, others shouting in favor of Kenric.

Less than a dozen blows were exchanged before everyone realized the match was uneven. Royce fought like a demon while Kenric exerted little effort in his own defense. There was no need when holding Royce at arms' length proved such easy work. The knowledge that he was being toyed with and his inability to dent Kenric's easy defense drove Royce into a screaming fury, his sweaty face twisted now with hatred. Kenric wasn't even breathing hard.

The grating ring of metal striking metal continued until Kenric finally tired of the lesson and easily struck the sword from Royce's hand. The flat of his sword fell next against the boy's chest, knocking him to the ground, then the point of Kenric's sword was at Royce's throat.



"Thus it is proven." Kenric's voice was calm, his face devoid of emotion. "The matches won against me were to spare you this humiliation, Royce. Honor is everything to a knight, something I would never sacrifice to become one. My spurs were earned fairly this day and I have done nothing to deserve your foul slurs against my family." He pressed his sword a little harder against the boy's throat, all traces of indifference gone from his voice. "Now you will apologize."

"Go to h.e.l.l, b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

Kenric stared at the fallen boy for a long moment, the disgust and temptation easily read in his expression. The sword finally lowered.

"Get up, you worthless worm." He slammed his sword into its sheath. "I'll not foul my blade with your blood."

Kenric turned on his heel and stalked away, the silent crowd moving aside to let him pa.s.s. He didn't realize he was in danger until someone called out a warning at the last moment. Kenric swung around an instant before Royce's sword would have found the back of his neck. Driven by instinct alone, Kenric's blade was drawn and driven upward into the chest of his attacker in one blur of movement. Royce was dead before he hit the ground.

The fog began to roll in and Tess struggled to keep Kenric in sight. He was looking around now, searching vainly for the woman who had called his name in warning.

"I am here, Kenric. Do you see me?"

"I see you just fine."

Tess struggled to brush away the fog, surprised to find herself in bed. Kenric was seated in a chair at her side, but this Kenric was older, the man she'd married.

"I saw you kill him," she whispered. Her hand found his in the twisted bedcovers, unconsciously seeking comfort. "I was so afraid."

Kenric's brows drew together in confusion as he absently squeezed her hand then straightened the sheets. "Who did you see me kill?"

"The boy who said those awful things." Tess reached out to touch her husband's cheek, needing to rea.s.sure herself. His face was so familiar, comforting, as if she'd known him always. "You called him Royce."

Kenric's expression turned from surprise to anger. He stiffened noticeably. "Who told you of that?"

"No one. I saw it in my dream just now. When Royce attacked your back, I called out your name to warn you. I was sure you heard me call to you."

Oh, he'd heard all right, Kenric thought grimly, remembering the day well. But Tess hadn't been there. One of the bystanders had called out the warning, his voice breaking in the excitement of the moment into a high, womanly screech. Yet Kenric also recalled how everyone had looked around in confusion when he wished to give thanks for the warning, each boy insisting he'd heard nothing. Aye, the excitement of the moment, Kenric had told himself. Everything had happened so quickly. He'd thought little more of the odd matter until this moment.

How did Tess know he'd heard a woman's voice?

He racked his memory, trying to remember what the voice had sounded like. The realization of what he was doing suddenly struck and he shook his head in disbelief. The very idea that Tess had called out a warning in her sleep just now to be heard nearly ten years ago was ludicrous. How could he even entertain such a notion?

Her delusions were the catching kind, he decided, frowning. The tale had probably spread like all the others Tess seemed to have knowledge of. Aye, that was all there was to the mystery. Another tale she'd heard somewhere, twisted by the fever into reality.

He lifted her hand from his knee and tucked it under the covers. She was asleep again, her brow still hot with fever. It had been two days since he'd carried her home and still there was no sign of a recovery. Sometimes she rested quietly, more often than not the delirium of her fever kept her in a tormented state somewhere between sleep and reality. At least she didn't appear to be getting any worse.

He still couldn't believe she'd tried to escape on foot, without even food for a journey of several weeks. She wouldn't have lasted the day. If he'd been thinking clearly that night, he wouldn't have left her alone. It was his responsibility to protect his wife, even from herself. He'd seriously underestimated Tess, expected instant loyalty and trust from a woman who'd known little of either in her own home. Still, she'd betrayed his trust and he would never give her an opportunity to do so again.

Kenric stood up and stretched muscles cramped by the long hours of his vigil. Trust was also the reason he refused to leave his wife's side during this ordeal. Tess was a threat to many at Montague, and there wasn't a servant within the fortress he'd trust with her life. More than one would rejoice if she succ.u.mbed to this fever.

Hoping he'd be able to sleep a few hours before her next nightmare took hold, he lay down next to Tess and wearily rubbed his eyes. She tried to move closer, and when she whimpered softly in her sleep, Kenric gently pulled her to his side. She felt right there. He couldn't seem to stop himself from trailing his fingertips along the smooth curve of her cheek, marveling at its softness. Her content expression didn't betray a hint of fear or hate, or the quick temper he didn't seem to mind. She looked so innocent and vulnerable when she slept, the urge to protect her was nearly overwhelming. Kenric didn't question that urge. Nay, it was his duty to protect those under his care. It was the tightness in his chest he found worrisome.

The rim of a cup pressed against Tess's lips, but she was allowed only a small sip before the cool water was pulled away. She opened her eyes to protest this latest cruelty, but instead gasped in wonder at the sight she beheld. An angel was sitting next to her bed!

Golden clouds surrounded the angel and a bright light s.h.i.+mmered all around, so bright that Tess couldn't see his face clearly. There was no need to ask the angel's ident.i.ty, for that much seemed obvious. This was surely Saint Peter, and the bright light came from the gates of Heaven.

"I am not supposed to be here," she told the angel, smiling over his mistake.

"And why is that?" the angel asked.

"Because I am not going to die. Kenric said so himself."

The angel didn't answer immediately. He was probably surprised by her knowledge. His next words confirmed her suspicion. "You were not supposed to hear that."

"Do not be so sad." Tess reached over to pat his hand sympathetically. "Friar Bennet says even angels are allowed to make mistakes."

"You think me an angel?" He sounded shocked by the idea.

"Well, of course," Tess said, pleased with her cleverness. "You are Saint Peter, and I am to tell you all about my life, then you will decide if I can pa.s.s through the gates of Heaven." She frowned. "But I don't think I should be here. I heard Kenric say quite clearly that I would not need a priest because I was not dying." Her eyes filled with tears and she began to cry again. "Perhaps I just imagined Kenric saying those words."

"You will not die." The angel brushed the tears from her cheeks and lifted her onto his lap. Her fears were soothed instantly within his safe embrace. "Why don't you tell me about your life while we wait for this mistake to be corrected? I would like to know more about you."

Tess couldn't refuse a request from an angel. She told him everything she could think of, the good and the bad, knowing the kind angel wouldn't judge her too harshly for her human failings. She fell asleep often during the telling but would awake to find the angel waiting patiently near her bed. His question then was always the same. Each time she awoke, he would ask her to say his name. He seemed to think she would forget him.

The angel seemed especially interested in her life at Langston Keep. Even though Tess admitted she didn't like to talk of that time, she dutifully answered his questions. The questions turned next to the few days of her married life.

"Kenric frightens me sometimes," she admitted thoughtfully. "I've never met a man like him. The tales are so savage, yet I don't see the cruelness in his eyes that I see in the MacLeiths. Perhaps he is just better at hiding it. 'Tis worrisome to never know what he is thinking."

"Is that why you fear him?"

She shook her head. "I fear his size. 'Tis doubtful I will survive many of his beatings."

"Your husband promised not to beat you. Do you doubt his word?"

"Men forget their promises when they are angry," she answered matter-of-factly. The angel didn't argue that point, and Tess fiddled with the bedsheets a while before admitting her other reason for fearing Kenric. "He doesn't want me, you know. 'Tis easy enough for a man to rid himself of an unwanted bride."

"Do you really believe your husband capable of murder, simply to escape marriage?"

Tess thought that over for a moment, then shrugged. "Gordon MacLeith promised to put me to death, just as soon as I'd borne a healthy heir. He said it would look as if I'd died in childbirth. It was a foolish taunt, for he only strengthened my resolve to escape. But Kenric is much more clever and cunning than either of the MacLeiths. If he intended the same fate for me, I doubt I would be sure of his plan until I felt a blade against my throat. 'Tis not an easy fear to live with."

" 'Tis a foolish fear. Your husband intends you no harm."

"Are you sure?" Tess asked hopefully. "He really doesn't seem to like me very much, even though I can understand his disappointment. Kenric surely had his pick of all the beautiful ladies at court, but the king stuck him with me."

"You do not think yourself appealing?"

"Oh, my parents called me pretty, but all parents think their children are handsome. Nay, I do not appeal to a man's eye like the queen or Kenric's sister. Dark hair and pale complexions are the fas.h.i.+on these days. I felt like a limp old rag when I stood next to Helen." Tess sighed in resignation. "Perhaps Kenric will grow accustomed to my looks."

"And will you grow accustomed to your husband's looks?"

"I doubt that will ever happen." She gave an unladylike snort over the improbability of such an occurrence. "My legs tremble and my stomach acts queerly each time I look upon him."

"That bad, is he?"

"Oh, no," she breathed dreamily. She yawned again, hoping the angel wouldn't mind if she closed her eyes for just a moment. "That good."

Kenric raked a hand through his dark hair, feeling just as exhausted as his bride. He'd slept in s.n.a.t.c.hes the past four days, occasionally stretching out beside Tess in her more restful moments, but usually sleeping in the chair he'd pulled up next to the bed. If nothing else, her fever was proving enlightening. He yawned again and tried to clear his mind of all thoughts but sleep, awaking with a start a short time later.

Tess was sitting up in bed and smiling quite prettily. He smiled back uncertainly, wondering who he would be this time. She appeared as though she might almost be recovered, but there was something odd about her expression, something elusive in her appearance that made her seem several years older, the look in her eyes somehow wiser. Yet the color had returned to her face and she was, if possible, more beautiful than ever.

"Kenric!" Her smile was nearly blinding. She held out her arms, hugging him fiercely when he moved to sit on the bed. "I have missed you so!"

Her warm greeting stunned Kenric. "You are feeling better?"

"I feel wonderful now that you have returned. It seems like a year has pa.s.sed instead of a month. What think you of your new son?"

"Son?" Kenric asked, truly dumbfounded by this turn in the conversation.

"Your son," Tess chided, playfully nudging his arm. "You left only a week after his birth. Surely you have not forgotten the babe already? Or are you still pouting that I have yet to produce a daughter?"

"I... I am not sure what to say," Kenric said honestly.

"Then say you are happy to have three fine boys." She rubbed up against his chest. " 'Tis been long enough since the birthing to start working on your girl," she purred seductively. Tess traced little kisses along his throat until Kenric pulled her away.

"Now is not the time," he chastised, annoyed to hear desire thicken his voice. "You must rest."

"I have rested nie a month now." Her pout turned up at the edges as she trailed her fingers along the inside of his leg. Kenric caught her hand, unable to believe she would have carried through with the direction her actions were leading. The playful smile faded from her face. "You do not want me?"

"This is not the time," he told her again, wondering how on earth to handle this situation. He knew the fever was ruling her mind, but something in her look and the certainty of her words made the hair at the nape of his neck stand on end. "How long have we been married?"

"What an odd question. Have you forgotten the celebration of our fifth year of marriage already?" She looked worried by his reaction, and placed a gentle hand against his forehead. "Are you feeling quite well, milord? You are acting rather strangely."

Kenric stood up, reminding himself of Old Martha's words about the fever's delusions, but he couldn't rid himself of the odd sense of reality this one stirred.

"What is it? Is something wrong with the babe?"

"Nay, 'tis you who's been ill, Tess. Ill with a fever these past four days, ever since I found you in the woods aiming an arrow at my chest."

"That was years ago," she argued. "What on earth would make you say such a thing?"

"Because it is true. I have not left this room these last days, much less been on a month-long journey."

"I think you are the one who should be in bed," Tess teased halfheartedly. She patted the covers. "Come rest with me a while. You have had a very long journey, love."

Kenric slid into the bed against his better judgment. He wasn't at all surprised when Tess tried to kiss him.

"Just one kiss," she promised. "Then we will rest. Agreed?"

Kenric smiled at the hopeful tilt of her eyebrows. He leaned down and kissed her softly, feeling the raging heat of fever through that slightest touch. Tess was asleep before he lifted his head. Kenric lay back on his pillow and sighed, wondering what to make of this latest hallucination.

7.

Tess opened her eyes slowly, her senses disoriented and groggy with sleep. The dim light coming through the window said the day was just beginning or just ending. Dawn, she decided. She knew without looking up that it was Kenric's chest beneath her head, his strong arm around her waist to hold her securely in place. His deep, even breathing made her believe he was asleep.

Her eyes slid along a sideways view of his bare chest, one eyelash fluttering against the crisp mat of black hair. The bedcovers were pushed to his waist, and Tess knew from the way her leg lay draped around his that he wore little or nothing below the covers. She'd never lain with a naked man before, never touched one so intimately. The clear, steady sound of his heartbeat was comforting somehow, his scent familiar as she drew a deep breath.

Tess s.h.i.+fted her leg higher. She'd only meant to get more comfortable, but her eyes widened in alarm when her knee brushed against the most intimate part of him. Even if Kenric wasn't awake, his body certainly was. Before she could collect her thoughts enough to be shocked by that discovery, Kenric gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him.

"How do you feel?"

Her answer was a hoa.r.s.e whisper, startled out of her by the fact that he was not only awake, but looked as if he had been for some time. "Awful."

Kenric reached past her for a goblet that sat on a bedside table. He slipped his arm around her shoulders to prop her up, then held the cup to her lips. "Drink this."

Tess drained the contents in greedy gulps. Kenric took the empty goblet, then his gaze came back to her face and he eyed her dispa.s.sionately. "The fever has pa.s.sed."

"I did say it would pa.s.s by morning," she said defensively, pulling the covers higher. Waking up in bed with a naked man definitely required one to be on her toes, especially when the man seemed to be in a far from pleasant mood, but Tess could barely collect her thoughts. She pressed her fingertips against her temples, trying to concentrate. Her head ached fiercely and her eyes didn't seem capable of focusing properly when she moved her head. "You see? It was nothing to worry over."

Kenric jerked the covers back then rose from the bed with a barely m.u.f.fled curse. "Aye, 'tis morning, wife. And time to face the reckoning."

"What reckoning?" Tess asked, trying to sort out her thoughts. She glanced around the room, surprised to find it messy. A tray of half-eaten food lay on one table and some of Kenric's clothes were strewn about the floor. She didn't recall the room being so cluttered last night.

"Do you really think you can defy me without punishment?" he asked as he pulled on a pair of breeches.

"I defied you by coming down with a fever? I am to be punished for falling ill?"

"You will be punished for sending me on a wild-goose chase," Kenric said through clenched teeth. "You will be punished for nearly putting me in the extremely awkward position of having to explain away your death mere days after our wedding. You nearly died, you little fool."

" 'Twas just a fever," she whispered.

He studied her face, searching for an answer he apparently did not find. "What do you recall of your illness?"

"I recall you carrying me to this room last night. We had a short conversation and retired for the evening."

"Allow me to refresh your memory, Lady." Kenric locked his hands behind his back and frowned down at her. "Not two hours after I carried you to this room, you fled like a thief in the night. Not only from my bed, but from the castle itself. And 'twas not last night, but five days ago."

The look of dawning horror on Tess's face said her memory was indeed refreshed. She pressed her hands against her forehead, as if trying to stop the rush of returning memories.

Montague - The Warlord Part 7

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Montague - The Warlord Part 7 summary

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