Master of Craving (26 page)

Once settled in a small but comfortable chamber, Arian returned to the main room, and was surprised to see the large trestle shoulder to shoulder with knights. When she entered the room, Stefan stood and the others hurried to follow. He nudged Wulfson aside so that there was a spot for her on the end.

She smiled and sat, but not before she said, “ ’Tis customary for the nobles to sit first.”

 

He scowled. “Here we are the same.”

 

Arian did not argue with him as she sat looking for her brother.

 

“A-wenching,” Stefan muttered.

 

“I detect a note of envy in your tone, Sir Stefan.”

 

His blue eyes bored into her. “Aye, would that I could find the release I so desire. My mood would be greatly soothed.”

 

Arian took a deep breath and slowly released it. “Why, then, do you sit here when England’s thighs await?”

 

Stefan nodded and stood. “Aye, why not.” Then he stalked from the hall.

 

When the door slammed behind him, Arian turned to find his brothers’ eyes solemnly regarding her.

 

“I ask on behalf of all of us, Lady Arian, that you set Stefan free,” Rorick said carefully.

 

“Set him free?” Arian asked, confused. “But there are no ties that bind us!”

His deep sea-colored eyes narrowed as he fought for control of his next words. “Invisible though they are, the bonds are strong. Make the break, marry your jarl, and give my brother back his heart. He has suffered more than you will ever know. I do not wish to see him suffer more.”

She looked at each and every one of them, and saw the same closed look. She understood clearly: she was the enemy. “I—I do not know what to say to you, sirs. I am on my way to wed. Stefan’s heart is his to give. I do not have control of it.”

“You do!” Rorick ground out. He leaned closer. “He is no good to anyone when you lead him along by the leash of hope. Make the break. Make it permanent.” His eyes narrowed to slits. “Or I shall.”

“Do you threaten me?”

 

“Nay, I do not. I have no quarrel with you. I state only that if you do not sever the ties I will do it myself.”

Feeling like a deer caught between two bows, Arian defended herself. “Stefan is a man of his own mind and heart. He understands I am promised to another, as I understand he is wed to his king.”

“Then make it clear,” Rorick said. Shaking with anger, Arian stood, having barely touched her meal. How dare he threaten her? Did he expect her to lie to Stefan and tell him she no longer cared for him? She could not do that, any more than he could say it to her. Such cruel words would tear her heart in half. But then—then she could turn all her attention to her betrothed … and not pine for what could never have been. ’Twould force her to look ahead and not behind.

Her shoulders slumped. ’Twould tear her apart to hurt Stefan. But it would also set him free. “Excuse me.” Slowly she made her way down the hall. As she entered the chamber, Jane raised her deep brown eyes from her stitching, and Arian knew she read her heartbreak. She sank to her knees at Jane’s feet. “After all these years, Jane, I begin to understand my father’s heartache.”

A loud thud, followed by the scrape of metal, roused Arian from sleep. She shot up in the bed, Jane shielding her from the intrusion. Deep voices in French and English clashed in the hall. Stefan’s voice was close, just on the other side of her door. Arian moved from behind Jane and reached for her short dagger on the side table. Grasping it to her breast, she moved to the door.

“Nay, milady! ’Tis too dangerous!” Jane cried.

The clash of steel upon steel told the story of what transpired on the other side. More Saxon voices erupted. Dread filled Arian’s heart. They were under attack! Did Stefan fight alone? Where were the Blood Swords?

She threw the bolt and heaved the door open. Stefan stumbled in backwards, fighting off two Saxon swordsmen. Arian jumped back and watched horrified as Stefan lost ground an inch at a time under the harsh attack. She dared not scream lest she distract him. More fighting sounds came from the hall and Arian realized they were under attack from all sides.

The two men had pressed Stefan back into a corner when a third man burst into the room. Frozen with fear and not knowing what to do, Arian stood rigid in the room. She could barely make out Stefan’s large form from behind the three men. He lost more ground. When he went down on one knee, fending off the violent thrusts of the three swords, Arian snapped.

“Nay!” she screamed, and lunged at the closest man, who turned in surprise. She plunged the dagger deep into his chest. The other two shifted their attention from Stefan just long enough for him to impale one with his sword; the other he kicked forward. Arian pulled her dagger from the dead man and turned on the other, ready to see him to hell. But Stefan did the honor. He hacked back with his sword, stopping the man in his steps. His dying eyes widened and in a slow fall forward he hit the floor dead.

Stefan stepped over the carnage and pushed her back toward the bed. “Stay here. Do
not
leave this room!” Then he flew from her, slamming the door behind him. Jane threw the bolt. Arian stood in stunned silence, the bloody dagger in her hand, and stared aghast at the three dead men on the floor. “I have slain a man, Jane,” she whispered. “I have taken a life.”

And with shattering realization that kicked the breath from her chest, Arian knew she would do it one hundred times again to save the life of the man she loved.

When Stefan ran into the small hall, he was met with the cold stares of his men and a floor littered with bodies. Fury seethed in his gut. “How did they gain entrance?” he demanded of Ralph, who stood guard at the main door to the manor.

Ralph pointed with his bloody sword to a hole in the floor near the short hallway leading to the chamber where Arian had slept. “A secret passage? Why was it not discovered when we swept the hall?”

Rorick wiped the blood from his sword on the tunic of one of the dead Saxons, then glared at Ralph. “Next time we will not leave the chore to the inept.”

 

Wulfson strode through the door, followed by Warner and Ioan. “There were at least thirty of them. The stables run wet with their blood.”

 

Rhodri came bursting in behind them. “What goes on here?”

 

Stefan snarled, “If you were not so bent on repopulating the island, you would know we have been attacked!”

 

“Arian?” he gasped, stepping past Stefan, who grabbed his forearm, halting him. The younger man yanked his arm from the Norman’s grasp.

 

“She is safe in her room. Barely.”

 

Rhodri faced Stefan, anger twisting his face. “She would not have been in such danger had you not kidnapped her for your own gain!”

Stefan turned on the young man. “Would you have her raped then? Would you have her bring shame upon your house because she was no longer a virgin and her chances of a royal marriage gone?” He stepped closer to the upstart. “Would you, Prince Rhodri, have forgiven her for what she had no control over?”

The young man stood, silently furious. “She is
my sister!
I would have stood by her no matter what.”

“You have an odd way of showing your loyalty, lad. Had you not been so enamored of the milkmaid you would have been the one sleeping on the pallet by her door, not I.” He fondled the hilt of his sword. “Mayhap it was best you were not there. I doubt you would be alive now.”

Rhodri drew his sword. Before it was fully free of his scabbard, the Blood Swords, with the exception of Stefan, drew on him. Stefan smiled and walked into the sharp point of Rhodri’s blade. “Do you challenge me?”

“Aye! I call you out.”

Stefan threw his head back and laughed. In a move so swift no one expected it, he flung his brawny arm against the blade and half-turned, kicking the young prince onto his royal arse. He caught the sword before it hit the floor and stepped on the lad’s chest, bringing the blade down to his throat, pressing the point to the vein there. “I refuse to fight an unarmed opponent.” Stefan dropped the sword to the floor next to Rhodri’s head. Turning to his men, he said, “Let us clean up this mess, then prepare to depart at first light.”

He turned and strode down the hall to Arian. He pounded on the door. “ ’Tis Stefan.”

The door flew open, and with a sob, she flung herself into his arms. For one tense moment, he stood stiffly, but he could not resist her warm softness. His arms slid around her waist and he brought her gently against his chest. Something warm and wonderful filled his belly. She clung to him and his arms tightened around her. He pressed his lips to her hair, inhaling the flowery scent of her perfume. “The danger has passed, Arian. You are safe.”

Her body shuddered in his arms. “Stefan,” she said, tears clogging her throat, “I—I killed a man.”

He smoothed her hair from her face and pushed her head slightly back so that he could look into her eyes. “My thanks. Had you not, ’twould be he standing here with you in his arms, not I.” He looked to the ground where the dead men lay sprawled upon the bloody rushes then back to her deep silvery eyes. Lowering his lips to her cheeks, he kissed away the tears. Then he kissed her moist lips, drawing her harder against him. Emotion swelled in his chest, clogging his throat, making it difficult for him to breathe. “Come,” he said, his lips hovering above hers. “Let my men clear the bodies.”

When he turned with her in his arms, Wulfson and Rorick stood silently watching. Neither seemed pleased with his handling of the princess. He scowled, narrowing his eyes, daring either one of them to say a word.

He guided her past them all, out to the front steps of the manor, where he sat her down on a bench. Quietly she sucked in the fresh air. Her hands trembled, as did her shoulders. After several long moments she looked up at him, her eyes glittering like steel. Gone was the terrified girl; in her place stood a furious woman. “Who were they and how did they gain access to the manor?”

Taking exception to her curt tone, he scowled. “From the wood, there is a trapdoor with a tunnel, leading to the hallway just outside your door.”

 

“Why was not a guard posted at my door?”

 

“I slept across your threshold, princess. They were silent and deadly. Two were upon me before I heard a sound.”

 

“Why did you even sleep if you suspected trouble?”

 

“I am human.”

“You gave your word you would see me to Yorkshire! I was nearly slain this night! Because of your laxness I was forced to take a man’s life!” She stood, and began to pace in front of him.

Confused by her sudden mood change and her attack on him for yet again saving her life, Stefan lashed out. “Once again, you chastise me for saving your skin. If your life is so unimportant to you, then it is to me as well.” He curtly bowed. “Find another champion, Princess Arian, one who does not mind your constant nettles and barbs. I am through with you.”

“Nay! I am through with
you!
You have seduced me with your gallant words and courtly manners all in the hope of ruining me! I have been blind to your ways, thinking you truly held me in high esteem. Be gone from me, Stefan de Valrey, you are beneath my station and not worthy of my time!”

Speechless at her harsh words, Stefan watched her whirl away from him and stride back into the manor, brushing past his men.

Arian ran back to her chamber. Tears blinded her eyes. Her heart was shattering into a thousand pieces. Abruptly she stopped when she hit a hard wall. Rough hands grabbed her arms, steadying her from falling. She looked up into the piercing eyes of Sir Rorick. “I have done what you asked!” She yanked out of his grasp and continued her flight.

Bursting into the chamber, Arian slammed the door shut, pressing her back against it. Her gaze caught that of Jane’s as the maid threw a bloody rag into a bucket—the last remnants of the bodies gone.

“Jane!” Arian cried. “Jane, I am weak like my father. I have done what I swore never to do! And now my heart is breaking and there is naught I can do to stop it!”

Jane rinsed her hands in a bucket of clean water, then wiped them dry. The old woman, hunched with age, moved to the bedside and smoothed the hair back from Arian’s damp cheeks. “When you were born, your mother was delirious with joy. She had lost six daughters before you came. I knew before you greeted the world that Branwen would leave that day. She knew it too, poppet, and she was brave. She loved you with all her heart and she knew she would never see you grow into the beautiful lady you are today.”

Arian gazed up at the old women through tear-filled eyes. Jane smiled sadly. “Hylcon was devastated. He refused to allow anyone near her body for almost a week after she died. He refused to see her buried, even. Instead, he ran. He was gone for nearly a year.”

Arian’s heart constricted with such tightness she could scarce breathe. She now knew how her father felt. When she thought that Stefan would die before her eyes, Arian realized that her emotion for him ran far deeper than she suspected. ’Twas love. Pure, simple, and unshakable.

“Prince Hylcon did his people a grave injustice when he left, and though he returned in body, he never fully returned in spirit. He was forced to wed Morwena and to produce an heir. The morning she announced she was with child, he never set foot in her chamber again. We have all suffered from his broken heart.”

Jane pulled Arian into her thin arms. “Do not continue his legacy. Wed the Jarl, bear his children. Become a great lady. Give him all of yourself that you can, and know that a tiny piece of your heart is safely tucked away for another. But do not howl at the moon, do not neglect what you were born and bred to do. You are a princess, Arian, and you have much to give your people.”

Jane’s words, though meant to inspire, did the opposite. ’Twas Stefan she wished to marry. ’Twas Stefan whom she wanted above all other men.

 

“You are young. You have a lifetime to fall in love with your husband. But you must be willing, Arian. Close your heart to him and neither of you will find joy in the union.”

Arian slumped against the woman, not wanting to admit the truth. “Jane, let me sleep.” Arian closed her eyes. “Let me sleep.” Gently, the maid laid her down, then pulled the covers up to her chin.