Julie Garwood- Gentle Warrior

[Dalyia]

The warrior's bellow of outrage stilled Elizabeth's attacker. Terror washed the lust from his eyes as he flung Elizabeth from his arms and turned to face the challenge. The look of fury on the warrior's face changed the attacker's mind. He turned to look for a means of escape from the intent he read in those cold black eyes. His hesitation was his death sentence. Geoffrey's blade whistled as it sliced through the air* guided by the warrior's strong arm* until it plunged down through the man's shoulder* cutting bone and muscle as easily as if they were sheep's fur* in its quest to find and pierce the heart. With one additional jerk of his wrist* Geoffrey completed the kill* removed the sword* and turned to deal with the two men behind him. "Call your animals*" he ordered over his shoulder* and Elizabeth* stumbling to her feet* obeyed without question.
Geoffrey allowed both men time to stagger to their feet and reclaim their weapons before he moved forward. Then he stood* his legs braced apart* his sword at his side* waiting. The two men crouched and began to circle the warrior* and their puny attempts to kill him brought a smile to the warrior's face. A smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Before either man could issue a scream* Geoffrey killed them with two swift slaps from his blade.
Stunned* unable to comprehend how the lord came to be there* defending her* Elizabeth could only watch in a daze. When Geoffrey finished the deed and turned his attention to her* Elizabeth felt her knees buckle from the power* the raw force that radiated from him.
"Come to me." The harshness of his voice startled her. There was a different kind of terror pulling at her now* and Elizabeth couldn't understand what was happening. Shouldn't she feel relief? This man had saved her life* killed for her. Perhaps it was because he was so much larger than she remembered* or perhaps it was because he had killed so easily* so effortlessly… so unemotionally. She was too confused* only knew that the danger was still there* clinging to the air* mingling with the scent of death and sweat. Tension enveloped both of them as they stared at each other. Elizabeth stood rigid and straight* facing the force that poured from him. Power. It was there in his stance* in his muscled legs braced apart in sureness and victory* in the tightly fisted hands resting on his hips* but most of all in his face. And the power drew her to him.
Elizabeth met his stare and slowly walked over to him. She stopped directly in front of him and waited. For what* she knew not.
Geoffrey's body relaxed. Elizabeth could see the tension* the violence* evaporate. He took a deep breath and his eyes wanned a little. And the fear left her.
"I have just killed for you." His tone was arrogant and challenging.
Elizabeth watched as Geoffrey cleaned his blade and then replaced it before she replied* "Yes* you have saved my life. I am in your debt*" she acknowledged* her voice soft.
"That is so."
"But I have also saved your life*" Elizabeth added* "for I was the one who tended your wounds."
"I remember*" Geoffrey answered.
"And therefore* you are in my debt* are you not?"
"I am your lord." What was Elizabeth leading to? Geoffrey wondered. What was her plan? "You belong to me."
Elizabeth didn't answer* waiting for him to continue. A long moment passed and the lord frowned his displeasure. It would do her cause no good if she alienated him* for her fate was in his hands. In truth she did belong to him. Was that all he wanted? Her acknowledgment that he was now her lord?
"You belong to me*" he repeated.
Elizabeth was about to agree when his hand moved as lightning to the back of her neck* his fingers locking forcefully in her hair. "It is I who decide your future*" Geoffrey stated.
Elizabeth frowned with frustration. He was supposed to be in her debt. He should be grateful* but instead* he was demanding that she acknowledge her position to him.
Geoffrey was not pleased; he twisted her hair until she cried out in pain. Still he did not relent* but pulled her closer until her chest was flat against the cold steel links of metal covering his. Elizabeth shut her eyes against the pain and the look in his eyes* her mouth tightly closed so that she would not cry out again. She was trembling inside but vowed he would not know of her apprehension.
Geoffrey stared down at Elizabeth's face* smiling at the way she tried to mask her fear. There was a streak of rebellion in her eyes. He had not missed that* and it pleased him. He judged she would not intimidate easily. She was spirited and courageous* Geoffrey guessed* for she had lived outside the walls with only her animals for protection. 'Twas unheard of for a gently bred lady to do such a thing* yet she had done it. Stubborn too* Geoffrey knew* with perhaps a bit of wildness in her nature. He would tame the wildness without breaking the spirit. And the taming would begin now. His mouth descended to hers in a kiss that was meant to conquer. He would have her submission! He felt her jerk with the initial touch of his mouth* but he ignored her efforts for freedom* forcing her by merely tightening his hold in her hair until she opened her mouth to protest. And then his tongue invaded* tasting* probing* taking. His assault was not gentle* for in truth he knew little of wooing the weaker sex; still* he made an effort not to overwhelm her. She was gentle-bred* he reminded himself* and while he thought to drug her with his sexual prowess* he soon found that it was he who was fast losing control. She tasted so sweet* so fresh* and when she finally began to respond* when her tongue timidly touched his* he felt a wave of hot fire race through him.
The effect on his captive was just as startling. Did she struggle? Elizabeth thought that she did* but when the kiss ended* she found that her arms were wrapped around his neck. Had he placed them there? No* she answered herself* she had done that herself. Her face rested against the mail covering his chest. Shame tried to claim her attention* but Elizabeth fought it. She had not forced his embrace but only submitted because of his superior strength.
She felt Geoffrey's hand tighten and only then realized that his arms were around her waist. He smelled of leather and sweat. It wasn't unpleasant to be held by him* Elizabeth admitted.
"Your kissing has unproved* Elizabeth*" Geoffrey said against her forehead. A deep contentment he had not known before enveloped him; the feel of her against him was right* he felt it was right in his heart. He inhaled the fragrance of wildflowers scenting her hair and almost sighed aloud* his pleasure was so great. He knew he should let go of her and take a firm* intimidating stand so that she would well understand their relationship from the beginning* for he was her lord and she his subject* but he couldn't seem to drop his hands* to erase the smile. He would have to guard against letting her know the power she held over him. It would most likely be his downfall if he showed her his weakness for her. He knew from past experience that the fairer sex could easily manipulate any man* regardless of their physical strength* if the man allowed it. No woman would lead him around by the crook of her finger; no* he would do the leading* and she would be most thankful to follow.
"I was but curious*" Elizabeth stated* referring to the kiss she had stolen when she was caring for him. "I have not kissed much*" she added as she pushed against him to break the hold.
"I have no doubt that you are pure*" Geoffrey remarked* and Elizabeth noted that the arrogance was back in his voice. His smile wanned her* and Elizabeth returned the gesture. She would have to watch herself with this one* she decided. He had a way about him that pulled at her* beckoned her. But he was too powerful* too overwhelming for her likes* she reminded herself; he would be like the stone walls of her fortress* unbending* and it would do her no good to become involved with such a man. No* she could never allow such an attraction to nurture. She had no wish to be swallowed up by his strength* only to be spit out as a former shell of herself when he turned his attention elsewhere. She turned her back on him and tried to remember what they were talking about. Pure* he thought her pure* he bad said. "How could you know?" she found herself asking* "that I am pure*" she qualified. She turned back to him and waited for his reply. Although she thought he had made the remark to ease her worry that he might have judged her wanton* she found herself irritated. Instead of being relieved that he did not think her a camp follower* she found herself somewhat insulted. Were her kisses so lacking?
"It was obvious* Elizabeth*" the lord answered. "Though to take advantage of a man in a weakened condition tells me much about your character." He was teasing her* the laughter was there in his eyes. It surprised her* for she didn't think he was a man who laughed much. She returned his smile.
She could see that the kiss had lightened his mood* and sought to take advantage of the moment. "You are feeling well now?"
"Aye*" Geoffrey replied.
"You have called me by my name* my lord. How did you learn—"
"It was easy to solve part of the riddle*" Geoffrey answered. "Still* I would like more answers. When we return to the manor…"
"I would… if it pleases you lord* I would like to talk with you now* before we return to Montwright."
Geoffrey frowned over this request and then nodded. He walked over to the mud-splattered boulder adjacent to the hut and leaned against the edge* his long legs outstretched before him. He wasn't aware that he stroked the dogs leaning against his sides as he watched Elizabeth. "Begin by telling me why you did not stay inside the walls. Why did you come back here?"
"I could not stay there with Belwain coming* I could not." Elizabeth calmed her voice and walked over to stand between Geoffrey's legs. She folded her hands as if she was preparing for her morning prayers and said* "It is a long story* my lord. Will you listen to me?"
"Aye*" Geoffrey replied. He was eager to hear her tale* to understand what had transpired at Montwright.
"My parents* my sisters* one of their husbands… all killed*" she whispered. "And Belwain* my father's younger brother… he is to blame. He must be punished."
"From the beginning* Elizabeth*" Geoffrey encouraged in a gentle tone. "Tell me what you saw* what you heard."
Elizabeth nodded and took a deep breath. "I did not see them arrive. Little Thomas and I were out riding when it began. The family had gathered to celebrate my little brother's birthday. It was a tradition*" she explained.
Geoffrey nodded and then realized that she was looking right through him* didn't seem to notice his encouraging gesture at all. Memory had control of her mind now* and from the torment etching her features*
Geoffrey knew a chilling account was about to be told. He wanted to gather her in his arms* to hold her and offer comfort* but he sensed she would not accept his compassion from the way she held herself erect. Memory was taking her to hell's nightmares* and all he could do was listen.
"My eldest sister* Catherine* and her husband* Bernard* came all the way from his holding near Granbury* but Rupert* ailing from liver upset* could not attend. He allowed Margaret to come* though… Oh* God* but if he had not been so agreeable! She would still be alive." Elizabeth took a deep breath* a calmness settling over her features. She told the rest in a flat* emotionless voice. "Thomas and I came in through the side entrance* intent on changing our clothes before our mother caught sight of us* for we were covered with mud. There is a stairwell* well hidden from the great hall* with a tapestry hung over the door on the second landing. As I neared the top I could hear screams and shouts. I knew then something was wrong. I made Thomas stay on the steps and opened the door. No one saw me* but I could see everything from my position. There were bodies* dead* mutilated bodies* strewn about the floor like so many soiled rushes. Those doing the killing were dressed as peasants but they wielded their swords like trained soldiers. Several of the men wore black hoods to conceal their faces. I tried to find the one in charge when I caught sight of my sister Margaret. I saw her stab one of the men in his shoulder* and then run toward our mother. The man she injured followed her and plunged his knife into her back* and Margaret went down. I felt little Thomas against my side then* and turned to shield him from the view and to find safety for him. One of the attackers* his voice was somehow familiar to me even then* called the order to find the boy. 'Find the boy or we fail*' that is what he screamed* and I knew they meant to kill little Thomas. I had to protect him. He was now heir… I couldn't help my mother* but I couldn't seem to move either. It was as if I was frozen in place. I just kept watching her. They were tearing at her clothes. My mother's clothes! She broke away and raked her nails against the face of one of her captors. He screamed with pain and then the one who had killed Margaret… he came up to my mother with an ax in his hand. He raised it high into the air and the blade came down* down and across her neck* and her head* her head was torn from her body!"
She had never said the words until now. She wanted to crumble to the earth and die. The pain was so intense* the screams of her family so agonizing* so deafening* that she involuntarily placed her hands over her ears.
Geoffrey did not say a word. He gently reached out and pulled her hands from her face and held them.
His action helped Elizabeth gain control. She looked at him then* really looked at him* and saw the compassion in his eyes. "I don't remember much after that. I took Thomas back down the stairway and we stayed there until Joseph found us and took us to the outside. We sent word to Bernard's relatives and to Rupert."
Geoffrey pulled Elizabeth toward him* wrapping his strong arms around her. He wanted to erase the horror but knew that wasn't possible. "Did you recognize any of the men?" he asked.

[Dalyia]

"No* but the man Margaret stabbed… his voice was familiar to me*" Elizabeth suddenly remembered. "Blood covered his garb."

"What of the other men? Did you know any of them?"

"No*" Elizabeth replied* her shoulders sagging.

"Your servant told me that you sent your brother to London. Why?" he asked after a time.

"I did not know what else to do*" Elizabeth said. "The law would give Belwain guardianship and I thought you old and senile. And I had no proof that it was Belwain behind the deed. My mother's father lives in London and I thought to keep my brother safe with him until I could find the proof… or kill Belwain myself*" she said.

"Tell me your reasons for believing Belwain is responsible*" Geoffrey said.

"He is the only one to gain*" Elizabeth began. "He was my father's younger brother and lusted after Montwright. Father gave him a portion of the land for his own but Belwain was not content. Still* my mother told me Belwain used to be a merry man until little Thomas was born* then the relationship changed with my father. I do not know if that is so* for I was too young to pay much notice. I do know that last time my uncle visited my father they had a terrible argument and Belwain said he would never return to Montwright land. He threatened my father and I remember being frightened by his words* but my father seemed unaffected. I heard him tell my mother that Belwain's temper would calm and he would become content once again."

Elizabeth pulled her hands free of Geoffrey's hold and said* "Belwain would inherit the Montwright lands if we were all dead* wouldn't he?"

"Aye*" Geoffrey acknowledged. "But you are not all dead*" he reminded her.

"This same law gives Belwain guardianship of little Thomas* does it not?"

"That is so*" Geoffrey replied.

"And if you give my brother over to his care* he will kill him*" she predicted. "And me also*" she added* almost as an afterthought.

"You will not be given into his care*" Geoffrey stated.

"Then you believe me?" Elizabeth asked* her voice hopeful. "You will kill Belwain?"

"I believe that you think Belwain responsible*" Geoffrey hedged* "and he has the greatest to gain* but I need proof before I challenge him."

"Proof! There is no proof*" Elizabeth all but screamed. She pushed away from Geoffrey and added* "Belwain will not go free. He must pay for what he has done. I will kill him."

"If Belwain is responsible* I will kill him*" Geoffrey said. "When he arrives at Montwright* I will question him."

"And you think he will admit his sins?" Elizabeth asked in a desperate voice. "He will lie."

"Lies can trap*" Geoffrey returned. "I will find who is behind the deed and I will determine the punishment. It is my responsibility."

"Will you give me your word that Belwain will not become guardian to Thomas?" Elizabeth asked.

"If Belwain is innocent of your charges* I could not break the law*" Geoffrey stated. "Thomas would be placed under his guardianship. If he is innocent."

Elizabeth took a step back* shaking her head. "You are overlord to Montwright lands* and now that my father is dead* little Thomas is your vassal. It is your duty to protect him!"

"Do not tell me my responsibilities*" Geoffrey barked. He stood up and unconsciously put his hands on his hips. "I know them well enough. Until I know the truth in this matter your brother will stay with me." His voice gentled as he added* "Trust me* Elizabeth. I will not let any harm come to the lad."

Elizabeth wanted to believe him. While he had not promised to charge her uncle immediately* he did state that he would keep her brother safe for the time being. It would have to be enough. At least Geoffrey had listened to her and had not pushed her accusations aside. If he decided Belwain innocent* then Elizabeth would take matters into her own hands.

"Come* Elizabeth. The hour grows late. We will talk of this when we are within the manor."

"I need not be there when you question Belwain*" Elizabeth argued. "And I have no wish to look upon his evil face. No*" she continued* ignoring the anger she read on his face* "I will stay here until Belwain has been—"

The roar interrupted Elizabeth's sentence. In one swift action the lord lifted her high up into his arms. The dogs began to growl but the warrior ignored them as he turned and started back toward the waterfall.

God* but she was a stubborn bit of goods* Geoffrey thought with irritation. She seemed to have absolutely no fear whatsoever of her master* and that both amused and angered the knight. He wasn't used to such brashness. And yet* he reasoned* he did not wish her to cower in his presence. She confused him* he admitted* confused… and delighted him. Still* he would have to do something about her disposition* her inclination to argue. She would have to learn her place* her lot. He couldn't very well present her to William until she learned to curb her tongue. While William's opinion did not rule Geoffrey's life* he admitted that he did not wish his king to think Geoffrey's wife was but a shrew! Wife! Aye* he told himself* she would be his wife. There could be no other way to keep her with him. It would be a grave insult to the late vassal* Elizabeth's father* if he took Elizabeth as mistress. Thomas was a loyal and honest man; Geoffrey could not shame his memory by soiling his daughter and then casting her aside.

I do this for Thomas* Geoffrey found himself thinking. He did not think that he loved Elizabeth* for he did not think he could love any woman. Past betrayal had sealed his heart against such vulnerability. Yet the fates had decreed* from the moment he sighted her on the rise above the manor before the battle* that they be together. He did not understand why he wanted her at his side* why she had come to mean such a great deal to him in such a short time* but he would follow his inclinations. Perhaps it was all superstition on his part and she was his talisman. He did not know and did not care.

Besides* it was time* he almost said aloud. Time for the begetting of sons.

"Put me down* my lord*" Elizabeth ordered for the third time. She saw that the scar on the side of his cheek had grown quite red and decided that she had overstepped her position. "Please*" she amended in a soft voice. "I have my horse and my possessions to gather."

"Tomorrow your servant can fetch your things."

What a stubborn* unbending man Lord Geoffrey was* Elizabeth thought. Odd* but she found she wasn't upset any longer. A deep faith that he would right the wrongs to her family made her content for the moment.

They did not speak again until they were well on their way back to the manor. Elizabeth sat in front of the lord on his powerful charger and could not help but lean against him as they rode through the forest at a neck-breaking pace.

"Do you know what you will do with me? Where you will send me?" Elizabeth asked* thinking that she would like to stay near her brother.

"Aye*" Geoffrey replied in a rough voice. He was trying to concentrate on getting them to safety* his senses alert* but Elizabeth's nearness was unsettling. From the moment he had lifted her into his arms* a sense of well-being* of calmness* invaded the warrior. It was as if he could breathe again* and she was the fresh air he needed to survive. He tightened his hold* pleased when she did not protest. The top of her head was nestled just under his chin* and the knight found it a hard task not to rub his cheek against the softness of her golden hair.

Elizabeth waited for what seemed an eternity for Lord Geoffrey to continue* but the lord seemed disinclined.

"My father had signed a marriage contract when I was just a babe*" Elizabeth finally said* "but Hugh* the man I was to marry* died two years past. I do not know if another was arranged*" she added. Perhaps Geoffrey could tell her* for Thomas would have to gain his permission for any marriage contract to be valid. It was the law.

"There will be no marriage contract*" Geoffrey stated with finality.

"I will not be married?" Elizabeth asked with surprise.

"Yes* you shall be married*" Geoffrey said. "To me."

Had not Geoffrey been holding her secure* Elizabeth would have fallen off the horse. She twisted around until she could look him directly in the face* and blurted the first thing that came to her confused mind. "Why?"

The lord did not answer* and from the hard line of his jaw Elizabeth surmised he would not tell her any more.

She turned back and stared straight ahead. Montwright came into view as they rounded the water's bend* and fear twisted her stomach into knots. She found herself clutching Geoffrey's hands but could not let go. Belwain and his men might well be waiting inside.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and said a quick prayer. Nothing can ever be as it was* she lamented. Her parents and sisters were dead* and now she was solely responsible for keeping little Thomas safe. She had no one to turn to* no one to champion her cause* save this stubborn* battle-scarred lord. Would he be strong enough* cunning enough to keep them safe?

[Dalyia]

Chapter Three

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The wedding would be today!

Elizabeth could not understand the reason for the hurry* yet she was powerless to stop the proceedings. The lord's mind was made up. And her demands for an explanation were completely ignored. It was as if Geoffrey was in a race against time* and he must be married by nightfall. It made absolutely no sense to Elizabeth.

Geoffrey lifted her off the horse and carried her into the castle* like so much baggage* up the curving staircase and into her bedroom before she could catch her breath.

"I wish to see my brother*" she demanded against his neck* but the warrior refused with a shake of his head. God but he was stubborn!

"After the wedding*" he finally told her as he dumped her on the bed. "I shall have a bath prepared for you*" he added. And with that* he left.

For the first time since finding Elizabeth* the lord was pleased to see that she was fairly speechless. The look of confusion on her face when he announced that they would be wed this very day would be remembered* and savored* for many a night. Good* Geoffrey thought. He would keep her confused.

In truth* he did not understand the hurry for the marriage* only knew that he could not go another night without her beside him. And since the priest had arrived to see to the blessing of the dead* Geoffrey saw no need to wait. It would not be a traditional wedding with the participants proclaiming their vows on the steps to the manor's church* for the church had been burned to the ground. The ceremony would have to take place in the great hall* but it would still be a valid marriage. And once she was his* in name and body* then Geoffrey could find peace. Only then could he get back to the business of being a baron.

Elizabeth tried to understand her lord's reasoning for marrying her* and finally decided that he did it to protect her* and to honor her father. "He thinks he's failed my father*" Elizabeth said aloud* for her father had placed his loyalty in Geoffrey's hands for his protection. It was the way of the times. Still* it was Thomas's duty to protect his own home* not Geoffrey's.

Elizabeth paced the confines of the room* her mood growing quite ugly by the time two men entered the chamber with a large wooden tub. They returned with buckets of steaming water* again and again* until the tub was near to overflowing with hot water. No one spoke a word during the entire procedure* although Elizabeth did a lot of scowling* and the two men a bit of grinning.

A warm bath* instead of the frigid water from the waterfall* beckoned. Elizabeth found the rose-scented chips of soap her mother had given her on her last birthday* still wrapped in the strip of white linen at the bottom of her chest. She quickly removed her tunic and climbed into the tub. Taking her anger out on her hair* she scrubbed until her scalp began to sting in protest. She had thought the bath would be soothing and help her straighten out her thoughts* but found she could not relax. Belwain had not yet arrived* and Elizabeth found herself praying that some terrible mischief befell him on his route to Montwright. No* she decided* that was a wicked prayer* and more important* an inappropriate way to meet his death. Vengeance would not be cheated.

A fire was blazing in the hearth* and Elizabeth* wrapped in the bed cover* knelt before its warmth and began to dry her hair. There was too much to consider* too much to deal with* and Elizabeth felt overwhelming fatigue.

Lord Geoffrey found her in such an unguarded position. His eyes were tender as he leaned against the door and watched her. Elizabeth heard the door open but refused to acknowledge the intrusion. She adjusted the cover more securely against her bosom and continued to dry her hair. Had she turned* she would have glimpsed the gentleness in his gaze* the smile that came upon him when he watched her struggle with the cover. He thought she was the most beguiling* the most enchanting nymph* all soft and silky and smooth. The light from the fire cast a glow on her uncovered shoulders* giving her a golden look* but by her stiffly held frame he knew she was upset. The hint of defiance wanned him as much as her appearance. He considered that her anger* fully unleashed* could scorch a lesser man.

Elizabeth couldn't stand the silence any longer. "Are you going to stand there all night?" she asked. She turned and he saw that her face was flushed from the heat of the fire* her eyes a blazing blue.

"You are not eager for this marriage?" His voice was soft* his expression mocking to Elizabeth's ears.

A lioness* Geoffrey decided* from the mane of rioting curls to the wild* wary expression in her eyes. He fought the urge to grab her* touch her.

"I have no feelings one way or the other*" Elizabeth lied. She stood then* thinking that kneeling in his presence would give him the idea that she was of the submissive sort. Whether he be her lord or not* she would never cower before him.

Geoffrey acknowledged her comment with a nod and walked over to the window. He lifted the heavy piece of fur blocking the wind and gazed out. It was as if he had dismissed her* Elizabeth thought* wondering what she was supposed to do.

"You need not marry me* my lord. Your protection is enough*" Elizabeth pointed out. "And you are in a position to marry anyone… to marry even for love."

He acted as if he hadn't heard a word she said* and Elizabeth continued to wait.

"Foolish men marry for love. I am not foolish." He hadn't bothered to turn to her but continued to look out the window as he spoke. Odd* but his voice* though forceful* was lacking any emotion.

Foolish* she repeated to herself. He thought love foolish. She didn't disagree with him. She could be as realistic as he. And he was right. It was unheard of to marry for love. It wasn't practical. And yet… there was a romantic corner of her mind that wished Geoffrey did love her and that she did love him. Aye* foolish indeed. Wasn't it enough that she was drawn to him? Found him physically pleasing? No* she admitted* physical beauty should have no importance in a lasting relationship. Her mother had taught her that. It was what was buried beneath the surface that determined a good match. Besides* Elizabeth was a little frightened by Geoffrey* and that wouldn't do at all! She hated being frightened. She had already glimpsed a stubborn inclination in his nature* larger than her own. No doubt the marriage would be a stormy arrangement* and after all the turmoil she had recently been through* the prospect of more was as welcome to her as a sore tooth.

Elizabeth realized that Lord Geoffrey knew very little about her* had no idea just what he was getting for his wife. What would he think when he learned that she was far better versed in hunting and skinning a rabbit than needlepoint and homemaking? How often had her father blamed her Saxon heritage for her wild ways? Blamed her mother's full Saxon father for encouraging her unorthodox behavior? It was the grandfather who gifted Elizabeth with the hawk and then the wolfhounds on his annual visits to the manor* all to irritate his daughter's husband. The two protagonists played goading games with each other. And it was Elizabeth who benefited from the friction between the two men. Grandfather boasted that his granddaughter was a throwback to their Viking ancestors* and he only had to point to her blond hair* her blue eyes* and her proud carriage to prove his statement.

But if the grandfather was to blame for Elizabeth's independence* so was her father. Had he not treated her as a son for many years?

How would her grandfather get on with Geoffrey* Elizabeth wondered* should they ever meet? Would the gentle giant play the same antagonizing games with Geoffrey that he had with her father? The thought of the chaos he could cause made Elizabeth smile. Geoffrey turned from the window in time to catch her smile. He wondered at its cause* frowning.

Elizabeth met his gaze and waited. She noticed then that he too had bathed* for his hair was wet and slightly curling around his collar. He had changed too* into a tunic as black as midnight* with the design of his crest* in gold threads* upon his right breast. The fabric was tight against his powerful chest* and each and every time she saw him* his largeness appeared greater than before. She did not like feeling intimidated by him* but couldn't continue to match his stare* for his hot gaze was so lustful that she feared he would soon see the terror she was trying so hard to hide.

"The priest is waiting*" he suddenly announced* his tone surprisingly gentle.

"Then you have not changed your mind?" Elizabeth asked* her voice no more than a whisper.

"Aye* I have not changed my mind. We will be married*" Geoffrey said. "Get dressed. The guards will escort you when you are ready. Do not keep me waiting*" he warned. He did not wait for her response but turned and left the room* slamming the door behind him with such force that the logs in the fireplace shifted from the wind that stirred them.

Elizabeth found herself hurrying to do his bidding. She would have the marriage over and done with! She dressed in a plain white gown* winding a gold chain around her waist as her only decoration. Her hair was damp and it was difficult to get order achieved* but she finally managed to secure it to the back of her head with a gossamer-thin strip of ribbon.

Her hands trembled as she opened the door and followed the guards down the corridor* toward her fate.

Geoffrey stood at the bottom of the stairway* his hand extended. Elizabeth placed her hand in his and walked with him into the great hall.

She was startled to see that all the men in the room were kneeling* their heads bowed. It was awesome to see so many show such respect.

The priest's benediction turned her thoughts back to the vows she was about to exchange. He was asking her to pledge herself* body and soul* into the keeping of the man kneeling beside her.

It was all happening so fast. Elizabeth could not even remember kneeling. How had her hand gotten into his? Where had the ring come from? "To love and to honor* to cherish…" The priest's monotone voice insisted* quietly demanded. I do not know if I love him* Elizabeth found herself thinking* even as she repeated the words* "I* Elizabeth Catherine Montwright* do hereby…" Her voice was a thread of a whisper* but the priest seemed content* merely leaning forward with a benevolent smile upon his leathered face as he listened to her replies.

"I* Geoffrey William Berkley…" His voice* proclaiming his many titles* was forceful and clear. And then it was over* and Geoffrey was lifting her to her feet. He gave her a firm kiss and then turned her* presenting both of them to his men. She heard his deep sigh just seconds before the hall was filled with a resounding cheer.

The noise and the shouts escalated in volume and intensity. Elizabeth saw her brother* standing next to the lord's companion. She instinctively started to go to him* only to be stopped by her husband's hand. "Wait*" he instructed* placing his hand on her arm.

He nodded to Roger and a path was cleared. Roger pulled Thomas to stand before the couple. The little boy only had eyes for Geoffrey* the worship there for all to see. He hadn't given his sister so much as a glance. "I do not think he remembers you*" her husband said. "But that will change*" Geoffrey added when he noticed her distress* "for his voice has returned and he now talks constantly."

Elizabeth nodded and smiled and then knelt before her brother so that they were at eye level. He ignored her as she softly called his name.

"Thomas* I am your sister*" she insisted for the second time. The little one finally turned when Roger nudged the back of his head.

"I am to be a knight*" he boasted. Then* remembering his manners* he knelt down and bowed his head. "I will guard you* my lady* from this day forth." He peeked up at Geoffrey to see if he had pleased his lord.

Geoffrey nodded and helped Elizabeth to her feet. She turned to take her brother's hand but found that he was already halfway across the hall* following Roger.

Elizabeth turned back to her husband and allowed him to lead her toward the table and the wedding feast. "Where are Thor and Garth?" she asked as she sat down.

"Who?" her husband asked.

[Dalyia]

"My dogs*" Elizabeth explained. "They are called Thor and Garth. My grandfather named them*" she added with a small smile. "I was wondering if perhaps little Thomas remembered them."

"The dogs are locked in the quarters below*" Geoffrey answered. "Your brother is afraid of them."

"But that cannot be true!" Elizabeth exclaimed. She had reached her limit for surprises in one day. "He saw them raised from pups."

"I do not lie." Geoffrey's voice was quiet but firm. Elizabeth studied him while he settled himself at the table beside her* but could tell nothing from his expression. It was as if he wore a mask to keep his emotions carefully concealed from her. Yet* even so* she decided that she might have offended him.

"I believe you*" she replied. "I was not suggesting that you lie*" she qualified* "it was just a surprise."

Her explanation pleased her husband and he favored her with a smile that showed beautiful white teeth. The smile was almost boyish but the scar that marked his cheek canceled any suggestion that he was a playful youth. That* and the way he looked at her* Elizabeth thought with a shiver of nervousness. His eyes held a sensual promise of things to come.

"The boy hides behind Roger whenever the dogs are about. The animals obviously remember your brother*" he said* "and are constantly trying to nudge him into play. The future heir of Montwright lands wailed until Roger could not stand the sound another second. If his fighting arm is as strong as his lungs* your brother will be a mighty warrior when he grows up."

It was Elizabeth who now felt like wailing. Tears filled her eyes and she squeezed her hand into a fist* only then realizing that Geoffrey was holding it. She promptly relaxed her grip* lest he think she was being overly emotional. "He never used to be afraid of anything or anyone*" Elizabeth said. "Father worried that he would never develop any common sense." Sadness underlined her explanation.

Geoffrey seemed unaffected by her distress. "He has seen much to change him." He handed her a cup filled with sweet red wine before adding* "In time your brother will mend. It is the way of things."

And will I mend? Elizabeth asked herself. Will time make the memory of my mother's screams fade into insignificance? Will time make the murders less an atrocity? And if healing includes forgetting* then perhaps the wounds should stay raw and bleeding. I cannot put the hate aside* Elizabeth thought* not until Belwain is dead.

"Congratulations* my lady." The softly spoken words and the familiar voice shocked Elizabeth. Her head jerked up and she met the stare of her mother's elderly servant* Sara.

"Sara*" she exclaimed with a smile. "I thought you dead." Elizabeth turned* the smile still in place* and said to her husband* "My lord* may I present my mother's most loyal servant* Sara. Sara*" she said* turning her gaze back to the white-haired woman* "my father's overlord* Baron Geoffrey William Berkley."

"Nay* Elizabeth*" her husband contradicted against her ear* "no longer your father's overlord but your husband."

Elizabeth blushed slightly and nodded at the gentle reprimand. She would correct her error now. "My husband* Sara…" she began. Her attention was distracted by the number of familiar-looking servants carrying platters of food into the hall. "Where… how…"

"They have all returned* now that you are here*" Sara said* folding her hands in front of her. She was looking at Elizabeth but sensed the Baron's frown and quickly amended her sentence. "When word was told that your husband had rid our home of the defilers* then we returned."

The servant glanced at the lord and then lowered her eyes with respect. "With your permission* my lord* I would help my lady prepare for bed this evening. Her serving girl was slain during the raid."

Geoffrey nodded his consent. The servant smiled* reached out her hand as if to pat Elizabeth* and then thought better of it. Elizabeth caught the action and it was she who patted the servant. "Thank you* Sara* and praise God that you are well*" she said.

When the servant had returned to her duties* Elizabeth turned back to her husband. There were tears in her eyes.

Geoffrey was amazed at her composure. There was a fragile strength about her. She was not like other women he had known* but he had recognized that fact from the beginning. A quiet dignity radiated from her. Her temper was quick to flare* Geoffrey knew* but the tears were closely guarded.

He wished to see her smile again. "And do you wail as loud as your brother?" he asked her.

Elizabeth could not tell if he was teasing or not. "I never wail*" she said* shaking her head. She thought then that her boast sounded terribly prim.

Her husband grinned with delight. "And do you never smile at your husband?" he inquired against her ear.

The sweet* warm breath against her earlobe felt like a gentle stroke and Elizabeth found she had to pull away before she could answer. " 'Tis too soon to tell*" she tried to tease* though her voice sounded like a husky whisper to her ears* "I've only been married a few short minutes* my lord." She lifted her gaze to his then* her eyes sparkling with mischief* and Geoffrey was struck speechless by their intense color. She continued to become more magnificent* more desirable* and he wondered how that was possible.

"And are you pleased to be married?" he asked when he could find his voice.

"It will be a most difficult adjustment*" Elizabeth said* her voice serious. She continued to meet his stare and added* "My husband is not well known by me and the stories about him are terrible indeed."

Geoffrey was taken aback. He thought she might be jesting* the sparkle in her eyes told him that* but her expression was neutral and her voice most serious. He found he didn't know how to reply. No one had ever spoken to him in this manner. "I am your husband*" Geoffrey said* frowning. "What stories have you heard about me?" he demanded.

"Too many to count*" Elizabeth replied* trying not to laugh.

"I will hear them all!" His voice increased in volume* keeping pace with his escalating temper. As soon as he snapped the order* he wished he had not. He did not wish to frighten his bride on this their wedding night* but he obviously had. Elizabeth had turned her head away from him* shielding her face from his view. Now* as awkward as it might be* Geoffrey would try to soothe her. The problem* of course* was that he wasn't quite sure how to go about it.

He slammed his goblet down on the table to vent his frustration and then turned Elizabeth's chin toward him with the tip of his finger. He decided that he would simply smile at her and then she would know that she was still in his good stead.

He was totally unprepared for the smile that formed her expression* the soft lilting laughter that reached his ears. "I was teasing* husband. Please do not frown. I did not wish to upset you*" Elizabeth said* trying to control her smile.

"You are not afraid?" He found himself asking the absurd question and had to shake his head.

"You do not like to be teased?" Elizabeth answered his question with one of her own.

"I do not know if I like this teasing or not*" Geoffrey said* trying to sound stern and failing miserably. Her smile was like the sun entering the damp* candle-casted room* warming him. "Unless I am the one to tease*" he admitted with a grin.

Elizabeth laughed again and said* "Then this marriage—"

"A toast!" The command came from Roger* in a loud* forceful voice. Elizabeth glanced up and saw that the vassal held a goblet high above his head. Balanced somewhat precariously on one shoulder was little Thomas* giggling while he held on to the knight's head of hair with both hands.

Geoffrey found himself irritated with the interruption. He had enjoyed the easy banter with his wife and wondered what she was about to say. He forced himself back to the festivities but first whispered to Elizabeth* "Later* wife* you shall tell me these terrible stories about my character later."

Keeping her stare directed on Roger and her brother* Elizabeth answered in a soft voice* "Perhaps* my lord. Perhaps."

A sense of lightness settled over Elizabeth with each sip of the warming wine. In fact* she felt warm all over* inside and out. "Where have you found this wine* my lord? We are unaccustomed to such quality*" she said.

"Even when you celebrate?" Geoffrey asked with surprise.

"We drank ale on every occasion*" Elizabeth replied. "And shared from each other's trenchers*" she added* referring to the wooden plates the servants were placing on the table.

"Your father was a wealthy man*" Geoffrey stated.

"Aye* but frugal*" Elizabeth said. She laughed then and leaned toward her husband* her hand casually resting over his. "My grandfather used to tease my father something fierce over his tight purse*" she confessed in a conspiratorial voice.

"You have a fondness for your grandfather* don't you?" Geoffrey asked* smiling at her behavior.

"Yes* we are very alike*" she acknowledged. She took another sip of her wine and smiled at her husband over the rim of her goblet.

"Enough*" Geoffrey decreed* removing her goblet. "I want you awake on our wedding night."

His indelicate reminder of what was to come removed Elizabeth's warmth. The smile faded and she lowered her gaze to her plate. She had eaten but a fraction of the quail pie and none of the swan or the wildberry tarts prepared for the celebration*

She watched as more and more delicacies were placed on the table. There were appreciative ohs and ahs when the cooked peacock* redressed in its skin and feathers* was placed before her. Geoffrey served her after he had washed his hands with the wet cloth his squire provided him. A page assisted Elizabeth.

The priest and several of Geoffrey's thegns joined the couple at the table. Little Thomas was not allowed to sit with them* due to his age and his position* but each time Elizabeth saw him* she noticed that his cheeks were as swollen as a chipmunk's with food. His manners were equal to her dogs* she thought* but soon he would become one of Geoffrey's pages and learn the correct way of things.

Several of the men broke out into verses of a popular and somewhat risque ballad. And then the red-haired squire* flushed with drink* began to sing in a deep baritone voice. The hall quieted and all listened to his song.

His ballad was about the hero Roland and his faithful sword* Joyosa* and how the brave man led the ancient troops to victory. According to the verse* Roland rode well ahead of the invaders* singing in a clear voice while he tossed his sword countless times into the air like a juggler. He was the first to die and offered no resistance. And now he was legend.

To Elizabeth* Roland was foolish indeed. She decided she was not of a romantic nature. Dead was dead* whether one became legend or not. She wondered if Geoffrey would agree with her observation.

"It is time*" Geoffrey announced when the song ended and the cheers to Roland's memory subsided. He took her elbow* nodded to her servant* and stood. "Go. I will join you shortly."

Elizabeth wanted to leave* all right* but her destination was the great doors leading to the outside* and not her bedroom. She almost smiled at her childish thoughts of escape. Almost.

She lifted the hem of her gown and followed Sara* keeping within the tight of the torch the servant carried* stopping only once on her way up the curving staircase. She found her husband in the middle of a group of men* watching her. He seemed ignorant of the soldiers' talk* staring intently at his bride. Elizabeth's heart raced at the sensuous caress* the promise his dark eyes held.

"Mistress?" Sara's voice pulled at her* but Elizabeth couldn't break the force that held her gaze locked with her husband's.

"Yes*" she whispered* and then* "I'm coming*" but it wasn't until the servant tugged at her elbow that she was able to turn back to the kind woman.

Sara kept up a steady chatter of village news until she had Elizabeth stripped of her garments and a new fire blazing in the hearth. Elizabeth's hair remained twisted in the ribbon atop her head with several wisps falling and framing the sides of her face. She brushed a loose tendril aside and slipped into the robe the maid held open for her.

Having Sara there* helping her* did much to calm Elizabeth. The day had been quite overwhelming. Elizabeth felt both exhausted and keyed up.

[Dalyia]

"Your hands are trembling*" the old woman remarked. "Is it from joy or fear?"
"Neither*" Elizabeth lied. "I am just overly tired. 'Tis been a long day."
"Mistress? Did your mother ever talk to you about the duties of a wife?" Sara asked with a bluntness that made Elizabeth's cheeks grow warm.
"No*" she answered* avoiding Sara's gaze* "but I have overheard stories my sisters exchanged. Besides* a woman doesn't have to do anything* does she?" Her voice held a note of panic* an echo of her inner turmoil.
The servant nodded. "When a man becomes excited* he wishes his mate to respond*" she said very matter-of-factly. "I worry that you will make him angry if you—"
"I do not care if he becomes angry or not*" Elizabeth replied* straightening her shoulders. "I just hope that he will be quickly done."
"There are ways you can make the deed quick*" the servant hinted. She folded back the covers on the bed and turned back to Elizabeth. "But it will take courage… and boldness* my lady."
Elizabeth found herself intrigued with the conversation. Sara wasn't acting the least bit embarrassed by their delicate topic but stood there with a tranquil expression on her face and spoke as if they were discussing new ways of stuffing quail. Sara* Elizabeth reminded herself* was at least three times her own age* . and maybe that was why her attitude was so blase.
"What must I do?" Elizabeth asked* determined to do anything to get the night over and done with.
"Entice him*" Sara announced* nodding her head at Elizabeth's puzzled expression. "He is eager to bed you*" she said. "I saw the look in his eyes. Every man has only so much control* mistress. You must—"
The door to the bedroom suddenly opened and Geoffrey filled the entry. Elizabeth was standing in front of the fireplace* unaware that the light from the fire outlined the slender shape of her body through the thin robe. Her stomach knotted at the look in her husband's eyes as he slowly took his fill of her* from the top of her head to the tip of her toes* which peeked out beneath the robe* but she matched his stare and his appraisal and prayed that her trembling would soon stop.
Sara left the room and she was alone with her husband. His gaze was intimidating* and when she could stand it no longer* she turned her back to him* pretending to warm her hands before the fire. Her mind raced for an ending to the discussion she was having with Sara. Entice him? Play the whore? Is that what the servant suggested? No* she decided* she could never do that. And why would enticing speed the deed?
Realizing that she probably looked like she was hiding* Elizabeth slowly turned back to her husband. He was sitting on the edge of the bed* removing his boots and staring at her.
If only he would smile* Elizabeth thought* instead of looking so serious* so intent. She felt like he was trying to see inside her* know her thoughts and feelings* find her soul. And capture it. He looked capable of the task* and Elizabeth almost made the sign of the cross but caught herself in time.
Without saying a word* Geoffrey stood and began to remove the rest of his clothing* surprised to find that his hands were fumbling with the simple buckles. Had he not known better* he would have thought his hands shaking. He continued to look at his wife* willing her to show him some of the fear she kept so well hidden. He knew it was there* locked behind the rigid stance. Yet he was not displeased when she did not. She was his wife* his property. And he had chosen well.
Elizabeth watched him try again and again to undo the latchings. She wanted to suggest that he give some attention to his task instead of staring at her but did not think he would understand that she was teasing. Instead* she slowly walked over to him* a smile lifting the corners of her mouth* and unlatched the three buckles.
Geoffrey watched her* inhaled the sweet clean scent of her.
"I should change your bandage*" Elizabeth said* taking a step back* "and apply more salve."
"It has been attended to*" Geoffrey answered* his voice husky. He was removing the rest of his clothing as he talked. Elizabeth tried to remind herself that she had seen him naked before* but that was when he was unconscious and raging with fever. His desire now had changed his physique considerably* and the transformation terrified her.
"Do not be afraid." The softly spoken command confused Elizabeth. Geoffrey placed his hands on her shoulders. He did not draw her to him but seemed content to lazily study her eyes* her nose* and most especially* her mouth.
"I am not afraid*" Elizabeth contradicted* her voice clear and strong. "I have seen you without your clothes on." At Geoffrey's puzzled look* Elizabeth explained* "When I took care of you* it was necessary—"
"I remember*" Geoffrey said* smiling inside at the way his wife's face colored with her admission. His hands began to gently massage her shoulders* stroking the knots of tension he knew he caused. "And I have also seen you without your clothes*" he said.
His words startled Elizabeth and she was only vaguely aware that his hands had moved to her waist* to the knot that held her robe secure.
"When was this?" she asked* frowning.
"At the waterfall*" Geoffrey answered. "You were bathing."
"And you watched me?" she asked* both embarrassed and somewhat indignant.
"I had already decided to wed you* Elizabeth. It was my right."
Elizabeth pushed his hands away and took another step back. She felt the bed behind her knees and knew she could go no farther.
"When did you decide*" she asked* her voice a whisper* "that you would wed me?"
Geoffrey did not answer her but stood there and waited.
He wasn't making this moment less awkward* and the uncertainty of what was to come was agonizing. I must get the deed done* Elizabeth decided. Slowly she untied the belt to her robe. Before her courage could desert her* she removed the covering and let it drop to the floor. "And do you still want me?" she asked* her voice husky and* she hoped* enticing.
From the surprised look on her husband's face* Elizabeth decided that maybe enticing was easy work. His stare was so hot that she felt the heat* like an embrace* wrapping around her. She felt like she was being caressed. "Aye* wife* I want you*" Geoffrey answered* his voice hypnotic. "Come to me* Elizabeth. Let me make you mine."
It would not take much more to push his control over the edge* Elizabeth naively decided. Then* in her mind's view* he would most probably throw her upon the bed and take her. It would be painful* she knew* but quickly over.
An overwhelming need to have him hold her first* to stroke and comfort her* made Elizabeth's head spin. She took the first step and was but a breath away from touching him when she stopped and lifted her hands to her hair. She pulled the ribbon free* and the tight crown of curls quickly unwound* falling down below her shoulders. And still her husband did not move. He did not seem overly crazed with excitement or lust either* and Elizabeth realized that she would have to play a far better temptress than she first thought* if she was going to cause him to lose all control.
She raised herself on tiptoes and placed her hands around his neck* moving forward until her breasts were touching the warm mat of hair covering his chest. The contact of her skin against his was surprising; her eyes widened in reaction. Geoffrey smiled then* as if he was pleased with her aggression.
He picked her up and gently placed her on the bed. Before she could move over to allow him room* Geoffrey came down full upon her* all sinewy strength and power touching silky smoothness from neck to toes. His frame seemed to swallow hers. He braced himself on his elbows to share some of his weight* and watched his wife's reaction to his intimate touch.
Elizabeth closed her eyes against the rioting feelings rugging at her senses. His skin was like warm steel; his maleness* the very scent that was Geoffrey* intoxicated her. She felt herself tremble and bravely tried to move her legs apart* knowing* in her heart* that the power of him would most probably tear her apart. I will not scream* she repeated again and again to herself* squeezing her eyes tighter still as if that single action might help lessen the pain of what was to come. "I am ready*" she whispered in a ragged voice.
Geoffrey felt her brace herself against him and smiled. "Well* I am not*" he whispered in return* and widened his smile when her eyes flew open with obvious distress and confusion. His eyes were full of tenderness and golden chips that showed his amusement. 'Tis not funny* Elizabeth felt like screaming. Instead she whispered in a voice that sounded very much like a plea* "Be done with it* husband." She tried to move her legs farther apart but Geoffrey blocked their movement with his own. Elizabeth looked into his eyes and tongue began to stroke her there. The intimate sparing of his tongue against the most intimate* the most guarded part of her very being* the rough caress of his unshaven face against the ultrasensitive skin on her inner thighs* drove Elizabeth to the brink. She begged him with her moans to cease this tender torture while her hands held him there* against her.
"You taste so good… so sweet*" she heard him say in a ragged whisper*
He was slowly driving her crazy. "Please* Geoffrey*" she moaned as she arched against him. "Please…" She didn't know what she asked for* only wanted the agony to end.
"Easy* my love*" Geoffrey whispered* but Elizabeth was beyond understanding what he was saying. His voice was soothing* his touch wild; she arched her hips more forcefully and raked her nails through his hair.
Her frenzied movements made Geoffrey wild with need. His body trembled and Elizabeth could feel the raw hunger take over. Instead of frightening her* she became more excited* pulling him up toward her face.
Geoffrey's control snapped. He covered her mouth with his* hungrily taking her with his tongue. Elizabeth matched his passion* kissing him again and again with desperate urgency. She found herself becoming the aggressor* wanton with her need* and Geoffrey tried to let her have her way a while longer* until her nails* digging into his shoulder blades* became painfully insistent.
"I want you as I have never wanted another woman*" he told her in a ragged whisper. He knelt between her legs* his hands holding her hips. Elizabeth reached up and locked her hands behind his neck* trying to pull him back down to her. She felt him hesitate at the threshold and instinctively arched at the same instant that he plunged. Pain ripped through the sensual haze and she cried out. She tried to pull away but Geoffrey held her tightly against him* and only when he was deep inside her did he stop* giving her time to adjust to him.

[Dalyia]

He soothed her sobs with honeyed words* promising again and again that the pain was over.

"We are done?" Elizabeth managed to ask* her voice trembling.

"Only just begun*" her husband answered. He sounded as if he had just run a great distance* and Elizabeth knew the control he was maintaining for her sake. His consideration for her made her want to please him. He was breathing hard against her cheek. Elizabeth turned her head and found his lips* kissing him passionately.

Geoffrey returned her kiss* cupping her face with the palms of his hands. Then* slowly at first* he began to move. And the pain was forgotten.

Her legs slipped up around her husband's hips. She heard him tell her to hold him* and she tightened her arms around his neck. And then she heard nothing more. She could only feel. Escalating pleasure had taken control. She was racing with the wild beat of her heart into the center of the storm and her husband was guiding her* pushing her.

"Now* Elizabeth*" came his ragged whisper* "come with me." And she was there with him; she felt the separation of body and soul* felt the explosion as bolts of lightning ignited and burst into flame inside her with the forceful thrust from her husband. It was terrifying* and it was magnificent.

She called his name and heard him say her own.

It was some time before Elizabeth returned to reality. The gentle descent back to the present was made warm and safe by her husband's body covering her own. She opened her eyes to find Geoffrey smiling down at her. "I never knew…" she whispered. The sense of wonder and amazement at what they had just shared was impossible for her to put into words* but Geoffrey knew from her expression. He tenderly pushed a wet strand of hair away from her temple and kissed her there. She felt the wetness on her cheeks and realized that she had been crying.

He smiled again—a pleased and arrogant smile* Elizabeth decided—and she wondered just who had enticed whom.

She closed her eyes and smiled. Geoffrey rolled onto his back with a loud* contented sigh and Elizabeth immediately felt the cold sweep of air chill her glistening skin. Sleep demanded her attention* sleep and the warmth of her husband's body. She pulled the covers up and over both of them and rolled into his arms* nudging him until he turned to his side and wrapped his arms around her.

She was just about to drift off to sleep when she heard her husband's voice. "You are mine." It was a quiet statement of fact.

"Yes* husband* I am yours*" Elizabeth acknowledged into the darkness. "And you are mine." Her tone challenged him to deny it.

Elizabeth waited for what seemed to her impatient nature an eternity. Geoffrey did not answer. His deep* even breathing told her that he had fallen asleep. Her irritation turned to exasperation when he began to snore.

Elizabeth refused to give up. He had demanded her pledge* and now she would have his! She shoved him as hard as she could and fairly yelled into his ear* "And you are mine* Geoffrey."

Geoffrey still did not reply* but he did give her a quick squeeze and a hint of a smile. To Elizabeth* it was an acknowledgment of her claim. It was enough. The pledge was given.

Content* husband and wife slept.

[Dalyia]

Chapter Four
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Elizabeth was awakened by the sounds of med at work in the courtyard below. In that instant before memory cleared* she thought she heard her father's deep voice yelling instructions to his soldiers. She pictured him strutting around the training men with his hands locked behind his back. No doubt his pride and joy* little Thomas* was just two steps behind* his hands also locked behind his back* imitating his father's every move.
Roger's bellow jarred Elizabeth. She opened her eyes and took a deep breath. Nothing can ever be as it was* she realized* and the past could not be undone.
Yet in the morning light* the future did not look as bleak* as forbidding. Until yesterday Elizabeth had no thoughts or cares for the future; her only concern was Belwain and planning her revenge. Now it appeared that she would have both: a future and justice.
Elizabeth rolled over onto the spot where her husband had slept. The linen was cold beneath her and she knew her husband had been gone for some time.
She was glad for the solitude. So much had happened so fast that Elizabeth hadn't had time to do more than react. Now perhaps she could sort out her feelings. She stretched and felt the soreness caused by her husband. Her husband! She was now married* and Baron Geoffrey was hers. In the light of day* the events lasting deep into the night before made Elizabeth blush. What a contradiction this man was turning out to be! He was such a gentle lover* sensitive to her wants and needs* wants and needs she hadn't been aware she possessed. Elizabeth would never have guessed that such sensitivity lurked behind her husband's shield of strength. Tender and gentle… her gentle warrior. Aye* it was a contradiction. What other surprises were in store for. her? she wondered.
Perhaps it will be an easy arrangement* being married to Geoffrey. By the standards of nobility* it was an excellent match from her position. Her parents would have been pleased.
More significant* her brother's future was now secure. Elizabeth believed that Geoffrey would indeed protect little Thomas. "We are no longer alone* little brother*" she whispered. Hope* newfound and fragile* eased Elizabeth's worry.
Kicking off the covers* she slipped out of bed and knelt down* automatically making the sign of the cross before her knees touched the cold stone floor. In the habit of rushing through her morning prayers* all recited aloud in Latin as her mother had taught her* Elizabeth finished the ritual in bare minutes. She added an additional Paternoster for the repose of her family's souls* and ended the prayer with the same vow she had made each and every morning since the massacre. She promised to see Belwain punished* and would give her life* if need be. The fact that she was praying for vengeance* an act in great contradiction to all the Church taught* did not deter Elizabeth. In this instance she would follow her grandfather's beliefs. It would be an eye for an eye. The oldest law would prevail.
The ritual completed* Elizabeth hurried to dress. She wished to look her best when she joined her husband. Never having given her appearance more than a necessary glance in the past* Elizabeth was a little surprised at herself. Being pledged to Hugh for so many years removed the need for primping for the opposite sex* for Hugh had always been far more interested in the number of new horses purchased and by how many coins whenever he visited Montwright Manor. He never remarked upon her appearance. Father had called Hugh frugal* which by her father's tight standards was quite a compliment. Elizabeth had come to think of her future husband as… predictable. Predictable and boring.
Her wardrobe was sadly lacking in choices. Long ago* her father had dictated that too many clothes made one give undue attention to one's appearance* and such attention more than hinted of vanity. And vanity was a sin.
Elizabeth decided on a beige gown with blue borders. It fit rather snugly across her breasts and was high-necked* with long flowing sleeves. She tied a blue rope around her waist and slipped her dagger into its leather sheath and onto the loop of the belt.
It took her another ten minutes to find the mate to her beige leather shoes* lodged behind the drape at the head of the bed* and when both shoes were found and slipped into* she turned her attention to her hair. She brushed it until it crackled and then tied it with a ribbon at the base of her neck.
There* she was done. Pinching her cheeks to give them additional glow* and wishing she could find her tiny mirror to check her appearance* she straightened her shoulders and went in search of her husband.
She found Sara in the great hall* and saw the disorder. The castle must be made as spotless as it used to be* Elizabeth decided* in honor of her mother. Elizabeth deterred her search for Geoffrey and organized the servants* placing Sara in charge to supervise the sweeping and scrubbing.
"Throw out these reeds*" she said* referring to the soiled rushes. "And replace them with new. Perhaps we should sprinkle some rosemary about to get rid of the staleness that lingers. What say you* Sara?" Elizabeth asked the servant.
"Aye* my lady. And Dame Winslow will bring us fresh wildflowers just like she used to do for your mother. We will have the place as right as new in no time."
Elizabeth nodded. Her gaze turned to the shredded banner hanging by sheer willpower of its own on the far wall. "Sara* have someone remove the banner*" she ordered in a whisper. "I do not need to look upon it to remember what was done here. I'll not forget."
The servant impulsively grabbed Elizabeth's hand and squeezed it. "I'll see to it* my lady. None of us will be forgetting."
"Thank you* Sara*" Elizabeth replied. She gave the banner one last look and then turned to leave the room.
The servant used the hem of her sleeve to wipe the gathering tears from her eyes as she watched her new mistress. Oh* if only she had the power to lift some of the weight and heartache burdening one so young! " 'Tis so unfair*" she grumbled to herself.
"Pardon me* Sara?" Elizabeth turned from the doorway and smiled. "I did not hear you."
"I was just asking myself if you and the Baron will be leaving soon*" Sara improvised. She knew it wasn't her place to ask such a question* but she had no wish to talk of the killings again.
Elizabeth was surprised by the question. She had not even considered the possibility of leaving Montwright. It was her home. Yet leaving* and soon* was more than likely. Geoffrey had many holdings superior to Montwright lands and he had his own domain. "In truth* I do not know*" Elizabeth told the servant. "Where is my husband* Sara? Have you seen him about? I must discuss this issue with him."
"I have not seen him this morn*" Sara replied. "Perhaps he is in the courtyard* or in the soldiers' keep below. I could send Hammond to check*" she added* for while Elizabeth could freely roam about the estate* it was strictly forbidden for a woman to enter the soldiers' quarters located one flight below the great hall.
"I will find him*" Elizabeth said.
It was easier said than done. Elizabeth strolled around the courtyard but did not interrupt any of the men to ask of her husband's whereabouts. She stopped and watched several knights struggle with a large vat of sand* wondering what their plan was. The redheaded squire* called Gerald* was glad to give her an explanation. "Vats of sand will be placed at intervals along the ledge circling the top of the wall* my lady."
"For what purpose?" Elizabeth asked* frowning.
"See the one that is in place already* over there?" Gerald asked* pointing to the west. His voice fairly screamed the question into Elizabeth's ear.
"Aye* I see it*" Elizabeth answered.
"And see how it perches on those stones?"
Elizabeth nodded* inwardly smiling at the squire's loud enthusiasm.
"The fire to heat the sand will be contained within the circle of stones."
"But for what purpose?" Elizabeth asked.
"To heat the sand*" Gerald restated* "until the sand is so hot it is almost liquid sun."
"And when it is almost liquid sun?" Elizabeth asked.
"Then it is propelled by the metal discs over the wall and will do much damage to anyone trying to gain entrance… if there be another attack."
From the look on the squire's face* he was a bit disappointed that she wasn't showing much enthusiasm. "I had not heard of such a thing* such a weapon*" she said. "It is truly effective?"
"Aye* my lady. The sand can burn the body something fierce. Why* if it lands right* it can blind—"
"Enough*" Elizabeth hastened to interrupt* for he was painting a gruesome picture for her and she had the feeling he was just beginning to warm to his topic. "You have convinced me*" she added.
The squire nodded and grinned. Elizabeth thanked him for his time and explanation* and thought that he reminded her of her pet hawk the way he puffed up with her praise.
She continued to look for her husband but did not find him in any of the small huts clustered in semicircles around the courtyard. She was pleased to see that all the huts were being reinforced with fresh-smelling straw and wattle* long thin wooden rods that gave additional support. The huts were the real foundation of the castle* and though they were built on a small scale by others' standards* they housed trained craftsmen who were highly skilled and most efficient in seeing to all the needs of the manor. The leatherworker resided in one hut; the baker with two cooking pits and one clay oven in another; the falcons and their trainer with his variety of cages and perches in yet another. In another cluster the carpenter resided* next to the candlemaker. The last and* by her father's standards* the most important was the oversized but set to one side of the castle* all alone* and nearest to the barn. It contained the toolsmith and his supply of iron and steel. The weapons were made there.
In the bailey beyond the walls* the slaughter of the animals was seen to and the making of honey-fermented ale watched over. There had been plans to add a winepress* but that reality had not come to pass before her father's death.
Elizabeth wondered when the craftsmen had last been paid. Was that now her responsibility? She considered. In the past her father had paid the freemen in coin and food. Deductions were taken from their pay for protection and a place to live* and for the number of candles used and recorded by Dame Winslow. The candlemaker's wife could not write* but her method of keeping track was just as efficient. She used small pebbles. Each time a candle was handed out* Dame Winslow placed a pebble in that freeman's cup. When payday arrived* the cups were placed before Elizabeth's father and it was he who would calculate amounts. Who would see to this duty now? she asked herself. Another question to put to her husband* Elizabeth realized. But Geoffrey was nowhere to be found. Elizabeth went into the barn and found her mare in one of the stalls and made a mental note to thank Joseph for bringing her animal back for her. She saw that Geoffrey's huge stallion was gone. A knot of fear grabbed at her when she realized he had ridden into the forest* for there was danger out there* and then the absurdity of her reaction made her laugh. Had she not survived with but her dogs on the outside for weeks? And was not her husband capable of taking care of himself?
The thought that perhaps Geoffrey was touring the outer bailey* seeing what damage was done to the peasants' huts residing at the base of the winding road below Montwright* made Elizabeth head in that direction. She reached the gates to the outside but found her way blocked by two guards.
"Please open the gates*" Elizabeth asked.
"We cannot* my lady*" one of the men said.
"You cannot?" Elizabeth frowned and looked from one soldier to another.
"Our orders*" the second explained. "From the Hawk."
"What order did my husband issue?" Elizabeth asked. She kept her tone pleasant and neutral.

[Dalyia]

"That you remain inside the walls*" one of the guards answered in a hesitant voice. He did not like the frown that came upon his mistress's face and hoped that she wouldn't press him. He had no wish to upset her* though he would obey the Hawk's orders no matter what.

"So I am…" Elizabeth started to comment that she was a prisoner in her own home and caught herself in time. She would discuss this with her husband. It would be unseemly for her to make any comment* good or bad* to his guards. They were doing their duty for their lord. "Then you must follow your orders*" she said* smiling.

Turning* she started back* wondering why such an order had been given. Did it apply to everyone or just her? Was her husband worried that she might try to leave? Return to the forest? Elizabeth could understand his unsureness of her up until yesterday evening. But last night she had given him her pledge. She had admitted that she belonged to him. She was his wife. Didn't he realize that her pledge was the same as a sacred vow to her? Shaking her head* Elizabeth decided not. Trust. It must be earned. And in time* she was sure she would gain his trust* his confidence.

And how sure of him am I? Elizabeth asked herself. Do I trust him? She thought that she did* knew that he was an honest man. He had dealt well with her father* she remembered. And her father had called him a fair man. High praise from one who was as frugal with his praise as he was with his coins.

Elizabeth admitted that her knowledge of her husband was quite limited. She knew nothing of how he dealt with women* how he would treat a wife.

A blur in the sky caught her attention. Elizabeth glanced up and saw her hawk circling* and without so much as a second thought for her audience* she extended her arm and waited. She was so intent on watching her pet descend that she didn't notice the hush that came over the group* or see the startled* disbelieving expressions.

The hawk landed on Elizabeth's arm and met her stare with a loud gargle of greeting. Elizabeth noticed that her pet was full-breasted from a recent meal and whispered words of praise for his hunting ability.

The hawk increased his gargling and then suddenly began to flap his wings with distress. "I hear him too*" Elizabeth whispered* for the sound of approaching horse and rider was growing closer. Her voice soothed the hawk and the flapping ceased. Elizabeth looked up and saw her husband* sitting on his horse* watching her. Her dogs flanked the stallion's sides* their breathing labored from their run. Knowing how nervous the hawk became whenever the dogs were about* Elizabeth took mercy on her pet and commanded* "Go." The hawk immediately left its soft perch and took to the air.

Elizabeth lifted the hem of her gown and started toward her husband* intent on asking him to spare her a few minutes. She focused on the hard line of his mouth* remembering his lovemaking* and wondered what he was thinking. She could feel the soldiers staring at her and realized from their gaping expressions that she had made a spectacle of herself with her pet hawk. She felt embarrassed that she had drawn so much attention. Keeping her eyes firmly on her husband's features* she continued her slow* dignified pace.

The cheer caught her by surprise. Startled* she turned to see what the commotion was all about. They were still staring at her. And they were yelling. Had they all gone daft? She looked back to her husband for an answer* but his face was a mask as he watched her.

It was Roger who gave her an explanation. He came up behind her and placed his hand on her shoulder* saw her husband's scowl* and quickly removed it. "They honor the Hawk… your husband*" he said* "and cheer the Hawk's mistress. You are worthy* my lady."

"But they do not realize. The hawk is my pet*" she said* looking to the sky. "I have raised it from—"

"It does not matter*" Roger interrupted* smiling. "The hawk has his freedom and still he returns. It is because you are worthy."

It is because they are all silly* superstitious men* Elizabeth thought. And of what am I worthy? Being wife to Baron Geoffrey* she supposed. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her husband dismount and start toward her. So he was finally going to acknowledge her* Elizabeth thought with irritation. She suppressed the feeling and turned from Roger to smile at her husband. He must have a considerable amount on his mind* and she needed to burden him further with matters concerning her brother and herself. There wasn't any place for irritation. Besides* Elizabeth admitted* it was a childish reaction. And she was no longer a child* but a woman* a wife.

She was the first to speak. "Good morning* my lord." She gave a small curtsy as she spoke and then started forward* about to lean up and place a chaste kiss on his cheek as her mother had done whenever she greeted Elizabeth's father* but his frown canceled her intent. It was as if he had read her aim and did not wish the contact.

Elizabeth felt her cheeks grow warm from the subtle rejection. She also felt awkward. She took her gaze from his* embarrassed* and noticed the dogs. Instinctively she patted her side with one hand* a silent command she used to bring her dogs to her sides. The dogs ignored her and continued to hover next to her husband* nudging him for attention. Their switch in allegiance was the last straw. She felt like screaming. And what would her husband think of that? she asked herself. To make such a scene in front of his knights… why* she doubted that he would ever live it down. Not that she would ever cause such a scene; she had far too much pride and dignity. Still* it was an amusing fantasy* and it did help to lighten her humiliation.

Geoffrey was speaking to Roger. Elizabeth waited as patiently as possible for him to finish his orders and give his attention to her. She noticed that the longer her husband spoke* the harder Roger scowled. What was causing his change in mood? She moved forward again so that she could hear her husband's conversation.

"How many ride with him?" Roger asked her husband.

"No more than fifty* according to Riles*" Geoffrey answered.

They both looked so intent* and then Geoffrey turned his gaze to her* and in that instant* she knew. Even as the realization hit* the sounds of thunder in the distance* thunder from the hooves of hard-ridden horses* came to her ears. Belwain was coming!

All color drained from her face. Instinctively her hand went to her waist* to the sheath containing her dagger. She pulled the weapon free* holding it so firmly that the handle felt like it was a part of her hand. The wildness in her eyes mirrored her thoughts. I must find Thomas. I have to hide him. Where is he?

Geoffrey watched the transformation in his wife with a heavy heart. He longed to take her into his arms and offer comfort* to soothe the wildness in her gaze* to heal the injury. But he could not. And she would have more torment before the day was out.

Elizabeth turned* her destination unknown* her only thought to find her brother. Find and protect. She seemed to forget the dagger in her hand and that her husband was even present.

Geoffrey placed his hands on her shoulders and gave her a gentle shake. "Do not do this*" he said in a soft voice.

Elizabeth stepped back and broke the hold. She tried to walk around her husband but he moved and blocked her path.

"I must find Thomas*" she explained in a hard voice. "Do not stop me."

"Go to our bedroom and wait*" Geoffrey ordered. Elizabeth began shaking her head but Geoffrey ignored her refusal. "I will send your brother to you."

"Now? You will send him to me now? Before Belwain sees him?" she asked. The desperation in her voice washed over Geoffrey like liquid sun* like the sand from the vats* scorching him with her grief and terror.

"Roger*" Geoffrey said* never taking his gaze from his wife* "the boy is in the tanner's hut. Take him to Elizabeth's room."

"Aye* my lord*" Roger replied. He turned and headed toward the hut at a fast pace.

Elizabeth stared after Roger until she felt Geoffrey's hand on hers. Looking down* she watched almost as a third person* as her husband pried her fingers loose* one by one* from the dagger. Only when he had possession of it did she react. "I must have my dagger…"

"You will not need it. You will stay in our room." His order was hard. He pulled her to him* held her secure with one arm* and lifted her chin with his other. "I will have your word on this* Elizabeth."

"And you would believe my word?" Elizabeth asked. She was trembling and knew her husband could feel it.

"I have no reason to doubt you*" Geoffrey countered* looking deep into her eyes.

"I do not know if I can give it*" Elizabeth answered. "First you must tell me what you will do with Belwain."

Geoffrey was not angered by her order as he could well understand her hesitancy. "I need not explain my actions to you* wife. Remember that." He softened his tone and added* "Trust me."

"And if I do not?" Elizabeth asked.

"Then I will post guards and lock you in our room*" Geoffrey answered. "Until I talk with your uncle* hear his side—"

"He has no side* only lies*" Elizabeth said.

"Enough! I will have your word."

"Aye* husband. I will give you my word. I will wait until you have spoken with Belwain." She relaxed in his hold but her gaze continued to be defiant. "But hear me well* husband. I will trust you in this matter. And if you do not deal with Belwain* then I will."

"Elizabeth!" Geoffrey raised his voice and felt like shaking her into understanding his position. "Do not threaten me. Your uncle will have a fair hearing. It is William's law I follow. To hear all sides of an issue before rendering judgment. And you will abide by my decision."

Elizabeth could not answer him. She knew in her heart that she would be unable to accept any decision other than total guilt for her uncle. Yet she did not voice this admission because she believed that Geoffrey would find in her favor. He believed her* had said as much when they talked at the waterfall and she told him what had happened.

"I will go to my room now*" Elizabeth said* hoping to end the conversation.

Geoffrey decided not to press her. The approaching soldiers would be at the gates in bare minutes. Still* he did not wish to end the discussion in such a harsh manner. "I have promised to protect you and your brother. Remember that."

"Aye* husband*" Elizabeth said. She kept her expression neutral and started toward the doors. When she reached the top step* she turned back to her husband* found that he watched her* and nodded. "I trust you* my lord." To herself* she added* Do not fail me.

[Dalyia]

Chapter Five

Contents - Prev | Next

As soon as Elizabeth was safely inside teh castle* Geoffrey turned his attention to the waiting men. "Harold* double the number on the walls*" he said to one knight. To another he announced* "Only Belwain will be allowed entrance this day." Roger caught his glance and he stopped his orders while he watched the older knight carry little Thomas* like a sack of grain under his arm* toward the castle doors. Without turning back to his soldiers he said* "Send Belwain to me when he arrives. I will be waiting inside."

Geoffrey started toward the great hall when he was intercepted by his loyal squire* Gerald. He ignored him until he reached the handle to the heavy doors. Roger* finished with his duty of delivering the boy to his sister* almost collided with the eager squire* who had lunged ahead of his lord to open the door.

"Stay outside with the men*" Geoffrey told the squire.

"I would stay near you* my lord*" the squire argued* a worried frown on his freckled face.

"For what purpose?" Geoffrey asked.

"I would protect your back*" the squire stated.

"That is my duty*" Roger all but barked at the lad.

The reprimand had the desired effect on the squire. He seemed to shrink considerably before his lord's eyes. "You two believe that my back needs protecting?" Geoffrey asked.

"From what is being said* my lord*" the squire answered before Roger could open his mouth.

"Then Roger will see to the task*" Geoffrey announced. "Today you will protect my walls*" he added. "Your duty is to watch and listen. And learn."

The disappointment of not being in on the interview with his new mistress's uncle showed on the squire's face but Geoffrey was in no mood to appease. He had too much on his mind. "Follow my orders without question* Gerald. There are no second chances if you are to become a knight. Is that understood?"

The squire placed a hand over his heart and bowed his head. "Aye* my lord. I will follow your orders." He glanced up* saw the nod from his leader* and quickly turned to leave.

"He needs to learn to hold his tongue* that one does*" Roger told Geoffrey as they walked side by side into the great hall.

"Aye* and to cover his emotions. But he is still young—only fifteen* if I remember. There is still time to mold him properly." Geoffrey smiled at Roger and then added* "He is quite skilled on the battlefield* always there to hand me whatever weapon I desire* seemingly fearless of injury to himself."

"But that is his duty*" Roger protested.

"True* but he does it well* does he not?" he asked his companion.

"Aye* he does* and he is loyal*" Roger admitted.

"Perhaps I will assign him to you* Roger*" Geoffrey decided. "You could teach him much."

"No more than you* my lord*" Roger stated. He sat down on the bench and leaned his elbows on the wooden table. The linen cloth had been removed and the scratches in the wood were visible. "Besides* the lad would drive me to the brink with his eagerness. I'm too old to waste what patience I have left."

Geoffrey chuckled. "You are not that much older than I* Roger. Do not give me such paltry excuses."

"If you order it* I will see to the boy's training*" Roger conceded.

"I will not order it* my friend. The choice is yours. Think on it and advise me later."

"Think you Belwain responsible for the murders?" Roger asked* changing the subject.

Geoffrey's face lost its smile. He leaned against the table's edge and rubbed his chin in a thoughtful gesture. "I do not know*" he said after a minute. "My wife believes him guilty."

"And so do the servants I spoke with*" Roger added. "They all remember the argument the two brothers had and how Belwain made many loud threats."

"That is not enough to condemn a man*" Geoffrey answered. "Foolish men say many things in anger that they later regret* and an angry tongue does not mean one is guilty. I will hear what he has to say before I decide."

"It would seem to me that he is the only one to gain from his brother's death."

"Not the only one*" Geoffrey contradicted in a quiet voice. "There is another."

His scowl stopped Roger from asking more. He would have to be content to wait and see what happened. He had no doubt that his lord would get to the bottom of the riddle* find the one responsible. Having been in Geoffrey's service for so long* Roger had come to understand how his lord thought* how he reasoned. The Hawk was a careful man* given to logical inclinations* and did not make rash judgments. He believed in fairness and rarely based his decisions on hearsay. In truth* Roger acknowledged with pride* his lord was a fair and reasonable ruler.

Would his lord's reasoning be affected or influenced by his new wife? Roger considered. Geoffrey certainly was taken with her* Roger knew* though he tried mightily to act quite indifferent when she was about. But then Roger was also taken with her. No* whether it be his wife's family or not* Roger felt sure his lord would proceed as he always had in the past. He would not kill without just cause.

The door to the castle opened and both men turned. Two guards appeared at the entrance* a stranger between them. Belwain had arrived.

Geoffrey motioned to the guards and they quickly departed. Belwain* small in stature and elegantly dressed in peacock green and yellow* but with a wide girth* hesitated at the entrance to the hall. "I am Belwain Montwright*" he finally announced in a nasal whine. He dabbed at his nose with a lacy white handkerchief while he waited for a response.

Geoffrey stared at the man before him for a full minute before answering. "I am your baron*" he said in a forceful voice. "You may enter."

The lord leaned against the wooden table again and watched his wife's uncle as he hurried into the room. The man was walking as though he was being hindered by an imaginary rope tied to both ankles. Geoffrey found Belwain's voice as offensive as his motions. It was high-pitched with a scratch attached to it.

There was absolutely no resemblance to Thomas Montwright* Geoffrey thought. He remembered Thomas as a tall* vibrant man. The younger brother* now kneeling before him* appeared to be an old woman in men's garb.

"I pledge you my fealty* my lord*" Belwain said* one hand over his heart.

"Do not give me your pledge* for I will not accept it until I know what is in your mind. Stand!" The harshly ordered words had the appropriate effect. Belwain was suitably intimidated* Geoffrey decided. His eyes* glazed with terror* told Geoffrey that.

When Belwain was standing before him* Geoffrey said* "Many blame you for what happened here. You will now tell me what you know of this matter."

The uncle took several gulping breaths before answering. "I knew nothing of the attack* my lord. I heard of it only after the fact. As God is my witness* I had nothing to do with this. Nothing. Thomas was my brother. I loved him!"

"You have a strange way of mourning your brother*" Geoffrey said. At Belwain's confused expression* Geoffrey continued* "It is proper to wear black* and you do not."

"I wore the best that I owned* to show honor for my dead brother*" Belwain answered. "He liked colorful tunics*" Belwain added* stroking the sleeve of one arm as he spoke.

Disgust welled up in Geoffrey's throat like burning bile. This was no man standing before him but a weakling. The lord kept his expression neutral* but found it a difficult task. To gain additional control* he turned and walked over to the hearth.

Turning back to Belwain* he said* "The last time you saw your brother there was an argument?" Geoffrey's voice was almost pleasant now* as if he was greeting an old friend.

Belwain didn't immediately answer. His eyes* like a cornered rat* darted from his lord to the knight sitting at the table* and then back to Geoffrey again. He seemed to be considering his options. "It is true* my lord*" he answered. "And I shall carry the burden of saying harsh words to my brother for the rest of my days. We parted last in anger* of that I am guilty."

"What was the argument about?" Geoffrey inquired* totally unmoved by Belwain's tear-filled admission. Compassion was the last thing in Geoffrey's mind.

Belwain watched the lord* saw that he seemed unmoved by his impassioned speech* and continued in a less dramatic voice. "My brother promised me additional land for planting. Yet each year he would further the date for handing over the land* always with some insignificant reason. My brother was a good man but not given to generosity. And the last time I saw him* I was sure I would get the land. I was sure! He had used up his reasons*" Belwain added* "but again he dangled the carrot before me and then at the last minute withdrew it."

Belwain's face had turned a blotched red as he spoke* and his voice lost some of the whine. "I had reached my limit and was tired of his games*" he said. "I told him as much and we began to yell at one another. He threatened me then* my lord. Yes* he did! He threatened his only brother. I had to leave. Thomas had a terrible temper and many enemies* you know*" he added. "Many enemies."

"And you believe one of his 'many enemies' killed him and his family?"

"Yes* I do." Belwain nodded vigorously. "I tell you again* I had nothing to do with it. And I have proof that I was nowhere about. There are those who will tell you if you will allow me to bring them inside."

"I have no doubt that you have friends who will state you were with them while your brother and his family were slaughtered. No doubt at all*" Geoffrey said. His voice was mild* but his eyes were chilling.

"Yes*" Belwain said* standing taller. "I am not guilty and I can prove I am not."

"I have not said you are guilty*" Geoffrey replied.

He tried to keep his voice neutral* for he had no wish to let Belwain know what he was feeling inside. Belwain* he hoped* would be lulled into a false sense of security* and perhaps become more easily trapped. "I have only just begun to look into this matter* you understand."

"Aye* my lord. But I am sure that in the end I will be a freeman. Perhaps the new lord of Montwright lands* eh?" Belwain stopped himself just in time. He almost rubbed his hands with delight. It was easier than he had anticipated. The overlord* though quite intimidating in appearance* was most simple in his reasoning* Belwain hastily judged.

"Thomas's son is heir to Montwright*" Geoffrey answered.

"Yes* that is most true* my lord*" Belwain hurried to correct himself. "But as only uncle* I assumed that* once proven innocent of this terrible deed* that I… that is* that you would place the boy under my guardianship. It is the law*" he added with emphasis.

"The boy's sister does not trust you* Belwain. She believes you guilty." Geoffrey watched Belwain's reaction to his statement and felt a rage begin to boil inside. Belwain was sneering.

"She knows nothing! And she will change her tune when I am in charge*" he scoffed. "Too much freedom that one has had." There was genuine dislike in his voice* and he almost lost his life in that moment it took for Geoffrey to gain control.

He is a stupid man* Geoffrey thought. Stupid and weak. A dangerous combination.

"You speak of my wife* Belwain."

His statement had the desired effect. Belwain lost all color and almost collapsed to his knees. "Your wife! I beg your forgiveness* my lord. I did not mean* that is—"

"Enough!" Geoffrey barked. "Return to your men and wait until I send for you again."

"I am not to stay here?" Belwain asked* the whine back in his voice.

"Leave me*" Geoffrey bellowed. "And be content that you still have your life* Belwain. I have not ruled out your guilt in this matter."

Belwain opened his mouth to protest* thought better of it* and snapped it shut. He turned and hurried from the room.

"God! Can he be brother to Thomas?" Roger said when the doors were closed. He all but shuddered with revulsion.

"He is afraid and yet brazen at the same time*" Geoffrey answered.

"What think you* Hawk? Is he the one? Did he do it* plan it?"

"What do you think* Roger?" Geoffrey asked.

"Guilty*" Roger stated.

"Based on?"

"Based on… disgust*" Roger admitted after a time. "Nothing more. I would like for him to be guilty."

That is not enough."

"Then you do not think him guilty* my lord?"

"I did not say that. It is too soon to tell. Belwain is a stupid man. He thought of lying about the argument with his brother but decided against it. I could read the indecision in his eyes. And he is weak* Roger. I think too weak to plan such a bold thing. He appears to be a follower* not a leader."

"Aye* I had not thought of it that way*" Roger admitted.

"I do not think he is completely innocent* but he did not do the planning. Of that I'm sure. No*" Geoffrey said* shaking his head* "someone else is behind the deed."

"What will you do now?"

"Draw the guilty out*" Geoffrey stated. "And I will use Belwain as my tool."

"I do not understand."

"I must think over my plan*" Geoffrey said. "Perhaps I will take Belwain into my confidence. Make false promises to him. Suggest that the boy will be given into his care. Then we will see."

"What is your reasoning* my lord?"

"Whoever planned this wanted my lands. They attacked Montwright and they therefore attacked me. You operate on the premise that it was only Montwright the guilty was after. I do not limit my thoughts in just one direction* Roger. I must look at all the possibilities."

"Sometimes the most simple conclusion is also the most correct*" Roger answered.

"Know this* Roger. Nothing is ever as it appears. You fool only yourself if you believe what is easiest to believe."

"A good lesson* my lord*" Roger said.

"One I learned early in life* Roger*" Geoffrey admitted. "Come*" he suddenly said* "there is much to do today. Set up the table outside and I will see to the disputes among the freemen and pay them for their work."

"I will see to it*" Roger said* hurrying to stand. He knocked over the bench in his haste but didn't bother to right it. His lord was already at the doorway* waiting. "Roger* I again place the boy Thomas in your care. I will go up and talk with my wife and send the lad to you. Wait here."

Roger nodded his ascent* silently wondering what his lord would say to his wife. He knew that Lady Elizabeth expected immediate death for her uncle. How would she react to her husband's decision to wait for justice? The Hawk was about to ask a great deal from a mere woman* Roger thought. But then* from his contact with the Baroness* she was far more than a mere woman.

"My lord?" Roger suddenly asked.

Geoffrey turned from the stairway* one raised eyebrow his question.

"What of Lady Elizabeth? Would you wish me to look after her today?"

"No* that is my duty*" Geoffrey answered. "As unseemly as it is for a woman to stay at my side* it will be done today. I would know where she is every minute that Belwain and his men are about."

"You would protect her from Belwain*" Roger said* nodding.

"And Belwain from her*" Geoffrey said* with a hint of a smile. "She would try to kill him* you know. And there is a thought in my mind that she just might be capable of the deed."

[Dalyia]

Roger nodded again and tried not to smile.

It took Elizabeth some time to get control of herself. She alternated between grabbing the squirming little boy and holding him against her to trying to explain to him why she was in such a state.

Little Thomas remembered nothing. Not even how to play checkers* a game the two of them had played countless times in the past. It was just as well* Elizabeth decided* for her mind was too preoccupied for games.

When Geoffrey opened the door to their room* he found Elizabeth standing by the window* clutching her brother's hand. The little boy looked bewildered.

"Go to Roger* lad. He waits for you at the foot of the steps." Geoffrey's order lightened the expression on Thomas's face. He pulled free of Elizabeth's hold and ran for the door. It was Geoffrey's hand that stayed him. "Listen to me* Thomas. You do not leave Roger's side. Do you understand me?" His voice was firm.

The boy felt the seriousness of the order. "I will not leave his side*" he said* frowning.

Geoffrey nodded and the boy hurried out the door. Slowly* while he gathered his thoughts and considered how much to tell his wife* Geoffrey shut the door. He turned to deal with Elizabeth and was surprised to find her bare inches from him. Her face and posture appeared relaxed* but her eyes told the truth. There was torment etched there* torment and pain.

Unused to comforting* Geoffrey awkwardly placed his hands on her shoulders. In a soft voice* he said* "I will have your word* Elizabeth* that you will hear what I am going to say. Hear and abide by my decision."

Elizabeth frowned. He was asking the impossible. "I cannot give you my word* my lord. I cannot! Do not ask this of me." She tried to control the anguish in her voice but found it impossible.

"Will you listen to me* then?" Geoffrey asked.

"You have found Belwain innocent." Geoffrey could feel Elizabeth's shoulders sag beneath his hands.

"I have not said that*" Geoffrey answered.

"Then he is guilty in your eyes?"

"I have not said that either*" Geoffrey snapped* growing irritated.

"But—"

"Stop this! I have asked you to listen to me*" Geoffrey stated again. "And I do not want your interruptions until I am done. Will you give me that much* wife?"

Elizabeth could tell her husband was irritated with her and knew that he was finding it difficult to keep his patience. She was puzzled also by his manner. "I will not interrupt." The promise was made* and she would keep it.

"To begin*" Geoffrey said* lightening his tone* "I do not have to tell you anything. You understand this?"

Elizabeth nodded* wishing him to go on. "You are my wife. I need tell you nothing. In future I most likely will not. It is not your place to know what I am thinking* what I am doing. Do you also understand this?"

In truth* Elizabeth did not. Her father had shared all his joys and worries with her mother. And that was as it should be. Why didn't her husband understand this? Were his parents so very different from her own? she wondered. She made a mental note to question him on this later. For now* she would agree. She nodded again and folded her hands.

Geoffrey let go of her shoulders and turned from her. He walked over to the two chairs* adjusted his sword* and sat. Propping his feet up on the edge of the bed* he looked over at his wife.

"Your uncle is nothing like your father*" he began. "I find it hard to believe that they are indeed brothers." He stopped then* looking past Elizabeth.

"It is too simple* this solution*" he said* more to himself than his puzzled wife. Elizabeth longed to interrupt* to ask him what he meant* but she kept her silence.

"I do not think Belwain is the one behind the massacre." There it was said. Geoffrey watched his wife react.

Elizabeth met his stare and waited. She sensed he was testing her somehow* but didn't understand his reasons. Didn't he know the agony she was going through?

Her composure pleased the warrior. "Answer me this* Elizabeth. Do you consider your uncle to be intelligent? Tell me what you know of his character."

Elizabeth sensed her answer would be important to her husband* though she did not know why. "I believe him to be self-centered and interested only in his pleasures."

"Your reasons?" Geoffrey asked.

"Whenever he came to visit* he never took time with my sisters or my brother* or me for that matter. The family didn't interest him. And as soon as my father came home* Belwain would begin with his wants* his needs. He was always asking for more* but never giving." Elizabeth walked over to the bed and sat down before she continued. "There was no love inside of Belwain* that is why I think him more than capable of doing the killings. He was totally lacking in loyalty too. I cannot give you an example of this but I know it in my heart. And to me* there is nothing more unholy than lack of loyalty. As to intelligence* no* I do not think Belwain uses his mind overly. Otherwise he would have learned long ago how to deal with my father. He would have used a different approach to get what he wanted."

"He is weak. Don't you agree?" Geoffrey asked.

"Yes* he is weak*" Elizabeth agreed. "But full of evil too."

"I do not disagree or agree with you*" Geoffrey said. "His manners do not please me*" he admitted.

"My mother told my father that Belwain suffers from the king's complaint*" she whispered. "I heard her."

"The king's complaint?" Geoffrey had never heard the expression.

Elizabeth's cheeks colored but she answered her husband's question. "To prefer men to women…"

Geoffrey acted like a bolt of lightning had been shot through his body. He came out of the chair in one giant bound. "William would cut out your tongue if he heard your blasphemy*" he bellowed.

"Then it is not true?" Elizabeth asked* outwardly oblivious to her husband's anger.

"No* it is not true*" Geoffrey barked. "Never utter those words again* wife. It is paramount to treason."

"Yes* husband*" Elizabeth agreed. "I am glad it is not true."

"William is married*" Geoffrey snapped. "And it is not proper to discuss—"

"But you can be married* can you not* and still prefer the company of other men?"

"Stop this* I say!" God* but she was exasperating! To speak of such a subject as though she was discussing family trivia both infuriated and amused him. She had much to learn.

"Yes* my lord." Elizabeth's voice sounded repentant* but Geoffrey wondered how sincere she really was. "I am sorry* husband. I have led you away from our topic."

"Uhmmm*" Geoffrey grumbled deep in his throat. He sat back down and shook his head* in an action meant to clear his thoughts.

"I will tell you what I have thus far concluded* wife. Your uncle is a weak man. Weak and stupid."

"May I question you* husband?" Elizabeth asked* her tone mild.

"You may*" Geoffrey stated.

"Will you kill him or must I?" Her softly spoken question jarred Geoffrey.

"For now* neither will. We have need for Belwain* Elizabeth. Now you will ask no more questions until I am done*" he hurried to add.

Elizabeth nodded* frowning.

"I do not think he is the one behind the plan* though I feel he somehow participated. He is a follower* and too stupid to plan such a feat."

Elizabeth knew her husband spoke the truth. It was a difficult admission for her to make. Yet even from the beginning* while she concentrated all her hate on Belwain* there was a nagging uncertainty that he was not alone in the deed. Guilty* yes! But others involved? It was a possibility she had refused to consider until now.

"Belwain will be the bait* wife. I believe he will lead us to the one in hiding. I have a plan*" he added* "and you will give me your word that you will cooperate."

"But who else stands to gain* husband?" Elizabeth asked* unable to keep her silence a moment longer.

"There is another*" Geoffrey said. "Though I will not speak his name to you yet. I could be wrong. You will have to trust me in this* Elizabeth."

Elizabeth didn't respond but continued to look at her husband and wait.

"I now ask a most difficult thing from you*" he said. "It will require courage."

"And what is that?" Elizabeth asked.

"You saw what happened* and you remember what those who didn't wear masks looked like*" Geoffrey said. "Tonight the troops of Belwain will be allowed inside."

Elizabeth's eyes widened but Geoffrey continued on. "Do not worry* we far outnumber his soldiers. There will be no danger. I will have you beside me at dinner* and you will have a chance to see if any of his men were part of the attack."

"Belwain will sit with us?" Elizabeth asked.

"He will sit with us*" Geoffrey acknowledged. "I want him to think he is innocent in my eyes* Elizabeth. If he feels secure* he will slip."

"You ask a great deal*" Elizabeth whispered. "I do not know if—"

"Can you be content with Belwain's death and live with the thought that there is another just as guilty?" Geoffrey argued.

Elizabeth took a long time to answer. "No* I could not be content. I would know all of the truth."

"Can you do what I ask?"

"Aye*" Elizabeth answered* wondering inside if she really could or not. She honestly didn't know. "But could we not ride to their camp outside the walls instead of allowing them entrance?"

"No*" Geoffrey announced. "It is safer for you here."

Elizabeth squared her shoulders and stood. "There is much to be done before tonight. I will instruct the cook*" she said. Her hands were trembling. There was so much to think over. Elizabeth felt overwhelmed with confusion.

"Come here* Elizabeth*" Geoffrey ordered* his tone gentle.

Elizabeth nodded and slowly walked over to stand at her husband's side. Before she could so much as blink* Geoffrey pulled her onto his lap and kissed her soundly on the lips. His breath was warm and mint-tasting. Elizabeth began to respond when Geoffrey ended the kiss. "I did not hurt you last night?" he asked in a quiet voice* smiling at the becoming blush his question spurred.

"Not overly much*" Elizabeth answered* turning her gaze to his chin. She felt him chuckle and glanced back up to look into his eyes. There was tenderness there now. "I did not hurt you* my lord?" she asked innocently.

"Not overly*" Geoffrey answered when the surprise of her question receded. He found he liked it when she teased him* liked to see the hint of a sparkle come into her eyes. God* but if he could end her torment over her family's deaths as soon as possible* he would. He wished to see only joy in her expression* hear her laughter.

He lifted her off his lap and stood up. "This is not the time for loving* wife. It is daylight*" he explained.

"We may only show affection during the night?" Elizabeth asked. She had meant her question as another jest* but her husband was vigorously nodding his head in agreement. "You are serious?" she asked* all but laughing.

"Of course I am serious! Do not mock me* Elizabeth*" Geoffrey said in a firm voice. "It is unseemly to show affection in front of my men. You would do well to learn that*" he admonished. "Know your place* woman!" His tone did not sound angry to Elizabeth but reminded her of an elder instructing a younger one in the ways of the court. She found herself furious over his attitude.

"And where is my place* husband?" Elizabeth let her anger show. She placed her hands on her hips while she waited for an answer.

Geoffrey walked to the door and opened it before turning back to his wife.

"I asked you* where is my place* husband? Where do I stand?"

Geoffrey found himself confused by the obvious anger in his wife's voice. She acted much like his stallion when a burr was caught under his saddle.

"Where do you stand?" he repeated* frowning. "What is your meaning?"

"Aye* where do I stand?" Elizabeth all but shouted. "Do I stand beside you or behind you* husband? Answer me that."

"Why* behind me* of course. It is the way of things." From his wife's expression* Geoffrey gauged his answer had not pleased her. He slammed the door before she could reply* shaking his head. Aye* she had much to learn* this new wife of his. Much indeed!

You are wrong* husband mine* Elizabeth thought as soon as the door slammed. I'll not be hovering behind you* she vowed. Like my mother* I will stand beside you in this marriage. Oh* he had much to learn* this new husband of hers. Much indeed!