Julie Garwood - [3 Book Box Set] (80 page)

“Good God, I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Madelyne hasn’t either,” Duncan answered. “She will though. She’ll have a fit. If there was time. I’d find a priest and wed her before I leave.”

“It would take weeks …”

Duncan nodded. “Have you told Madelyne where you’re going?” Anthony asked.

“Aye, but I’m not going to tell her about our impostor. When I return, I’ll bring a priest with me. I’ll tell her we aren’t married a minute or two before I marry her again. Hell, what a mess.”

Anthony smiled. His lord was right. Madelyne would have a fit.

Duncan forced himself to put aside the matter of Laurance’s deception. He went over his plans with his vassal, trying to cover every eventuality.

“You’ve been trained by the best. I have complete faith in your ability,” Duncan said when he’d finished his instructions.

It was an attempt to lighten his mood, a self-serving remark as well, since it was Duncan who trained Anthony. The vassal grinned.

“You’re leaving enough soldiers to conquer England,” Anthony remarked.

“Have you seen Gerald yet?”

Anthony shook his head. “The men are gathering in front of the stables,” he remarked. “He could be there, waiting.”

Duncan stood and walked with his vassal to the stables. The baron addressed his soldiers, cautioning them all that they could well be riding into a trap. He turned to the men who would remain behind and spoke to them. “Louddon could well be waiting for me to leave to attack the fortress.”

When he finished addressing his men, Duncan returned to the hall. Madelyne was just coming down the steps. She smiled at her husband. Duncan took her into his arms and kissed her.

“Remember your promise to take every care,” Madelyne whispered when he released her.

“I promise,” Duncan answered. He put his arm around her shoulders and walked outside. They had to pass the church on their way to the stables. Duncan paused to stare at the damage from the fire. “I’ll have to rebuild the vestibule,” he said.

The mention of the church reminded Madelyne of the letter. “Duncan, do you have time to show me the letter from Father Laurance’s monastery? I am most curious, I confess.”

“I’ve already read it.”

“You can read! I’d suspected as much, but you’ve never boasted of your skill. Why, just when I think I know you quite well, you say or do something to surprise me.”

“So I’m not as predictable as you imagined?” he asked, smiling.

She nodded. “In certain matters you’re always predictable. Oh, I wish you weren’t leaving. I wanted you to teach me defense. If I could protect myself as well as Ansel does, you’d probably let me come with you.”

“I would not,” Duncan answered. “I promise, though, to begin your instructions as soon as I return.” He made the comment to placate Madelyne. There
were
a few tricks
every woman should know about, he decided. Perhaps it wasn’t such a ridiculous request after all. Madelyne wasn’t very strong but her determination impressed him.

Duncan noticed that Baron Gerald still hadn’t arrived. Since he had a few more minutes with his wife, he turned to her and said, “I’ll give you your first lesson now. Since you use your right hand, you must carry your dagger on the left side of your body.” He removed her dagger and placed it in a loop of her belt on the tilt of her left hip.

“Why?”

“Because it is much easier to pull the weapon free. Sometimes, wife, every second counts.”

“You carry your sword on the right side of your body, Duncan. I know you favor holding your sword with your left hand. The steps! Does this lesson have anything to do with the steps being built on the left side of the wall instead of the right?”

He nodded. “My father also favored his left over his right. When an enemy invades, he comes from below, not above. My father had added advantage. He could use his right hand to balance himself against the wall, and fight with his left hand.”

“Your father was cunning,” Madelyne announced. “Most men use their right hands, don’t they? What a wonderful idea to go against tradition and build his home to his specifications.”

“In truth, my father borrowed the idea from one of his uncles,” Duncan said.

Duncan thought he’d successfully turned her attention away from the letter. He was mistaken, however, for Madelyne came right back to that topic. “What did the letter say, Duncan?”

“It was nothing significant,” Duncan returned. “Laurance left the monastery when he was assigned to Louddon’s fortress.”

It was difficult lying to his wife. Yet his intent was good-hearted. He was trying to keep her from worrying while he was away.

“He was probably a good man until my brother got hold of him,” Madelyne commented. “I’ll see that his body is sent back to the monastery immediately, Duncan. They’ll want to give him a proper burial.”

“No.” He realized he’d shouted. “I mean to say that arrangements have already been made.”

Madelyne was puzzled by Duncan’s abrupt manner. Baron Gerald walked over to greet them, turning her attention.

“Adela and I will be married when this task is finished,” Gerald announced. “She has finally agreed.”

Madelyne smiled. Duncan slapped Gerald on his shoulder. “Where is Adela?” he asked.

“In her room, crying. I’ve already said my farewell,” Gerald added with a grin.

“You’re certain you want to wed her, Gerald? My sister spends most of her days weeping.”

“Duncan!” Madelyne protested.

Gerald laughed. “I’m hoping she’ll use up all her tears before we’re married.”

Duncan suddenly turned and grabbed Madelyne. He kissed her before she knew what he was going to do. “I’ll be home before you notice I’ve left,” he told her.

Madelyne struggled to smile. She wasn’t about to cry. It wouldn’t be dignified, what with the soldiers filing past.

She stood in the center of the courtyard and watched her husband leave.

Anthony walked over to stand beside Madelyne. “He’ll come back to us,” Madelyne said. “He gave me his word, Anthony.”

“He’s a man of honor, Madelyne. He won’t break his promise.”

“I shall have to keep busy,” she told the vassal. “Duncan has promised to teach me defense methods.”

“Defense methods?” Anthony repeated, showing his confusion.

“Aye. He would like me to know how to protect myself,” Madelyne explained. She deliberately made it sound as though it had all been her husband’s idea. Madelyne knew it would be easier to gain Anthony’s cooperation if he believed Duncan wished it. She didn’t think she was being deceitful. “Perhaps you could give me a lesson or two. What do you think, Anthony? Could you spare me a little time each day to show me the way of defense?”

The way of defense?
Anthony was at first too incredulous
to speak. He stared at Madelyne and realized she was quite serious.

Madelyne didn’t think Anthony looked too thrilled by her request. “I believe I’ll go and speak to Ned. He could fashion a nice bow for me, arrows, too, of course. If I apply my mind to the task, I believe I could become very accurate in no time at all.”

Anthony felt like making the sign of the cross. He couldn’t, of course, because his mistress was looking up at him with such a hopeful expression.

He was too weak-hearted to deny her. “I shall speak to Ned,” he promised.

Madelyne thanked him profusely. The vassal bowed and walked away.

Anthony had a new problem to consider. His primary duty was to keep Duncan’s wife safe. Now another duty had been thrust upon him. He was going to have to protect his men from Madelyne.

His sense of humor saved him from despair, however. By the time he reached the smith’s hut, he was laughing. Heaven help them all. By week’s end they’d probably all be wearing arrows in their backsides.

“What measure ye mete, it shall be measured unto you.”

NEW TESTAMENT, MATTHEW, 7:2

Duncan was the first to catch the scent of danger. He gave the signal to stop. The soldiers lined up behind him. Not a word was spoken, and once the horses had settled down, an eerie silence descended upon the woods.

Baron Gerald was on Duncan’s right. He waited, as did his men, deferring to Duncan’s judgment. Duncan’s reputation was legendary. Gerald had fought by his side in the past. He recognized Duncan’s superior ability, and though they were nearly the same age, Gerald considered himself the student and Duncan his trainer.

When Duncan raised his hand, several soldiers fanned out to scan the area.

“It’s quiet, too quiet,” Duncan said to Gerald.

Gerald nodded. “’Tis not the place I would have chosen for a trap, Duncan,” he admitted.

“Exactly.”

“How do you know? I’ve seen nothing,” Gerald said.

“I feel it,” Duncan answered. “They’re there, below us, waiting.”

A faint whistle sounded from the forest to the left. Duncan immediately turned in his saddle. He motioned to his soldiers to split into sections.

The soldier who’d given the sound rode back to the gathering. “How many?” Duncan asked.

“I couldn’t tell, but I spotted several shields.”

“Then add that many a hundred times,” Gerald said.

“By the bent crossing,” the soldier announced. “They hide there, milord.”

Duncan nodded. He reached for his sword but Gerald stayed his hand. “Remember, Duncan, if Morcar be one of them …”

“He is yours,” Duncan acknowledged. His voice was harsh, controlled.

“As Louddon is yours,” Gerald said.

Duncan shook his head. “He won’t be there. The bastard hides behind his men or in William’s court. Now I have my answer, Gerald. It was a false letter sent by Louddon and not the king. ’Tis the last game of deceit I play with Louddon.”

Duncan waited until a third of his contingent had spread in a semi-circle on the western slope. The second third followed the same order, though they fanned in a half circle on the eastern bridge. The last third of their troops waited behind the barons. They were chosen to mount the direct assault.

Gerald was pleased with Duncan’s plan. “We’ve trapped them inside their own trap,” he said proudly.

“And now we close our circle, Gerald. Give the call.”

It was an honor he bestowed on his friend. Gerald lifted himself in his saddle, raised his sword into the air, and shouted the battle cry.

The sound echoed throughout the valley. The soldiers who had circled the enemy now began their downward descent.

The net closed. The battle belonged to the fittest; might ruled this day, conquered.

Those cunning men who hid like women behind trees and rocks, waiting to pounce upon their unknowing victims, soon found themselves trapped.

Duncan’s men showed their superiority now. They took command from the outset, fought with valor, and quickly claimed victory.

They took no prisoners.

It wasn’t until the battle was nearly finished that Gerald spotted Morcar. Their gazes locked in challenge across the valley. Morcar sneered and then turned to mount his steed. He thought he had adequate time to make his escape.

Gerald’s mind snapped. He began to fight like a man possessed, desperate to get to Morcar before he got away. Duncan protected Gerald’s back more than once, shouted to his friend to regain control.

Duncan was furious. He was a man who demanded discipline from himself and his soldiers. Yet his equal, Baron Gerald, had cast off all the rules of training. His friend was out of control.

Gerald was beyond hearing any warnings. His eyes were glazed over with fury. Rage, so raw and wild, ruled his mind and body now.

Morcar sat on his mount and watched Gerald struggle to get to him. He wasted precious seconds, but he felt safe enough. Baron Gerald was on foot.

His smirk turned into a bellow of laughter when Gerald stumbled and fell to his knees. Morcar seized the opportunity. He charged his horse down the slope. Leaning to the side of his saddle, he waved his curved sword at Gerald.

Gerald feigned weakness. His head was bowed and he knelt on one knee, waiting for his enemy to come close enough.

Morcar lashed out with his sword just as Gerald jumped to the side.

Gerald used the flat of his own weapon to knock Morcar to the ground.

Morcar fell on his side, rolled onto his back, thinking to regain his weapon and leap to his feet.

He was never given the chance. Gerald’s foot trapped his hand. When Morcar looked up, he saw the baron standing over him with the tip of his sword pointed at his neck. When the blade pricked his skin, Morcar squeezed his eyes shut, whimpering in terror.

“Will there be women in hell for you to rape, Morcar?” Gerald asked.

Morcar’s eyes flew open. And in those last seconds before he died, he knew Gerald had learned the truth from Adela.

Duncan hadn’t witnessed the fight. When the battle was finished, he walked among his own men, gaining numbers of those who had been killed. He saw to his injured as well.

Several hours later, when the sun was fading from the sky, he went looking for Gerald. He found his friend sitting on a boulder. Duncan spoke to Gerald, but didn’t receive an answer.

Duncan shook his head. “What the hell’s the matter with you?” he demanded. “Where’s your sword, Gerald?” he asked, almost as an afterthought.