Rise of the Defender (137 page)

     “Richard said you tried to kill Marcus in a
sword fight,” Christopher said. “Very brave of you, little brother. I spent
half the day yesterday trying to do the same thing.”

     David shrugged, not voicing what he was
thinking. That their friendship had come to this still bothered him greatly. He
glanced back at his troops after a moment.

     “I have got three hundred men to reinforce
your ranks,” he said, “if you shall have me.”

     Christopher smiled broadly. “I would have
no other.” He slugged his brother again and moved toward his destrier. “What is
this I hear that you have taken a wife?”

     David snickered at his brother’s
disbelieving tone. “I did, and a lovely woman she is. But she came with two
sisters and they are driving me crazy.”

     Christopher crowed with laughter as he
mounted. “You deserve all that and more. You never could handle a woman.”

     David mounted his dancing animal. “They are
not
women. They are the spawn of Satan.”

     “Not Nathalie,” Christopher said. “She is
an obedient, thoughtful girl.

     “That is what she wants you to believe,”
David sneered. “She puts on a prim and proper front, and then when your guard
is down – boom. And Elise, the youngest, is even worse. Do you know that they
put honey on my pillow? And charcoal in my helmet? I went for half a day with
black hair and had no idea why my men were laughing at me.”

     Christopher laughed heartily at the mental
picture of his high-strung brother dealing with two disobedient children. “David,
I think I like these girls. You must tell me more sometime.”

     David made a face. “Later.”

     Christopher waved at him and they turned
tail on one another, returning to their respective armies. For them both, the
world suddenly seemed a little brighter, a little more hopeful.

     David's men set up camp and it was truly
like old times. Richard had his inner circle of knights about him and he could
not have been more pleased. In spite of the tension in the air, David and
Marcus had barely acknowledged one another and kept their distance, dampening
Richard's mood a bit, but it could not be helped. He would have rather had them
ignoring each other than trying to slit one another's throats.

     The army from Windsor was expected on the
morrow and Richard took leave of his men and went to bed early. Christopher and
David were standing around the massive pyre, watching the sparks fly into the
dark night and speaking of insignificant things. Christopher wanted to know
more of his new sister-in-law, Emilie, and was eager to hear of David's
exploits with her younger sisters. He laughed until he cried picturing his brother
trying to handle two spirited young girls.

     They were laughing about something or
another when Marcus strolled past the fire, eyeing the two brothers
impassively. Christopher gazed back, as did David, and immediately the tension
rose. Harold, at Christopher's feet, rose and snarled menacingly.

     “Marcus,” he greeted formally.

     Marcus merely nodded his head, crossbow
strung over his shoulder, and continued on his way. David watched him disappear
into the night before letting out a hissing sigh.

     “Be mindful that he doesn't use that thing
on your back,” he referred to the crossbow. “Marcus is the best archer in the
realm.”

     Christopher nodded. “I am well aware of his
skill,” he looked at his brother and slugged him playfully. “That is why I have
you here - to cover my back.”

     David grinned, gazing at his brother a
moment. “I told you once that you had changed. I cannot believe how much you
have changed.”

     “How so?” Christopher raised his brows.

     “Jesus, Chris, how
haven’t
you
changed?” David snorted. “The Lion's Claw I knew had little sense of humor and
ate and drank and slept war on the field. The only time I ever saw you relax
was with a woman in your arms. But right now…I mean, look at us. Since when did
we like and slug each other like a couple of lads? And that ugly dog is
constantly with you; you always hated animals. Furthermore, you smile all the
time. You never used to smile at all. I wondered at times if you even knew how.
You have taken on a dimension I never knew you had.”

     Christopher shrugged. “There is much in
life to be happy over, I suppose. I love my wife, my daughter. Why should not I
smile?”

     David grinned at him and shook his head.
“Then you were right. Love hasn't made you weak; it is made you invincible.”

     Christopher nodded deliberately, pleased
his brother was seeing the truth of it. “And Emilie? Do you love her?”

     David looked embarrassed, kicking at the
ground “I do not know. I am very fond of her, God knows. But love… well, it
scares me.”

     “As it frightened me,” Christopher looked
thoughtful. “I seem to remember a close relative of mine, male of course, tell
me once that if I would only allow my wife to love me that everything in this
world would right itself. Quit fighting her, I was told. Now I wonder who told
me that?”

     David looked away sheepishly. “Some idiot,
I am sure.”

     Christopher smiled. “A wise idiot. He
should follow his own advice.”

     David crossed his thick arms and drew in a
deep breath. “Mayhap. But I swear I am going to kill her sisters one of these
days.”

     Christopher chuckled. “Do not you dare. I
am pleased that they are proving to be a thorn in your arrogant side.”

     “Arrogant.” David choked. “Now look who's
calling me arrogant. Jesus, out of the mouth of the man who invented the term.”

     They grinned at each other, watching the
fire burn in comfortable silence. Boot falls caught their attention and they
both looked through the flames to see Marcus appearing out of the darkness.

     “Posts are secured, my lord,” he told
Christopher formally.

     Christopher nodded slightly. “Very good.”

     Marcus gave a slight bow and turned on his
heel, but Christopher stopped him. He did not know why he should, but somehow,
it just wasn't right for them to hate each other. It was as if the earth was
out of balance, or the stars out of alignment. It was unnatural and went
against the grain. With everything that had happened, he still yearned for his
friend.

     “You did not eat,” he said.

     Marcus' face was unreadable. “I wasn't
hungry.”

     Christopher sighed. “Will you join us?”

     Marcus' eyes widened a bit and he eyed
David. “Nay, my lord, I do not think so.”

     Christopher sat on the log behind him and
rested his ankle on his knee. “Sit down, Marcus.”

     David took his own seat, not looking at
Marcus. Marcus looked at the two brothers, once his very best friends, and he,
too, yearned for the way things had once been. But there was so much hurt and
anger in his heart that it was difficult to see past it. Yet he could see that
Christopher was making some sort of effort to be civil, and he decided to reciprocate.
But he wondered if David was hiding a dagger in his belt with his name on it.

     Slowly, he lowered his big body onto an
upturned log and sat stiffly, his hands clasped in front of him. Harold growled
threateningly at him and Christopher admonished the dog sternly.

     “Have you seen your father since you have
returned?” Christopher asked.

     Marcus shook his head. “Nay, even though
Leicester is less than a day from Somerhill,” he said. “The last I heard of my
father the earl, he and his new wife were busy on a family of their own. He has
no time for his second son from his first wife.”

     “What of your brother? Surely you have seen
him?” Christopher asked.

     “My brother, the monk?” Marcus said with
some contempt. “The man will inherit the earldom when my father dies and
doesn't know a damn thing about running it. As far as I know, he's still at
Westminster. I did not even see him when I was in London.”

     Christopher looked at him a moment before
staring back into the flames. It began to occur to him that Marcus felt alone
in the world, abandoned by his father and forgotten by his brother. He had no
one at all, which was probably why he was so determined to hang on to Dustin.
He needed the security of a family from her desperately, and Christopher
wondered if he was even aware of it.

     “Tell me something, Marcus,” he said after
a moment. “Are you so resolved to keep Dustin because you love her or because
you have no family ties whatsoever? Is she and Christin your ready-made family
or are they the love of your life?”

     Marcus’ features grew dark. “How in the
hell can you ask me that? I told you once and I shall tell you again - I love
her.”

     Christopher kept calm; he truly wasn't
trying to rile Marcus, but simply help him think. “It could not be because your
mother died when you were young and your father deposited you on the Earl of
Derby when you were five? You have never had the closeness or strength of a
woman or a family as I have. Is she somehow filling a role for you, a role you
have forced upon her whether or not she is willing?”

     Marcus stood up, his big fists clenched.
“To hell with you,” he snared. “How dare you judge me.”

     David sighed heavily and shook his head.
Christopher glanced at his brother, pleased that he was keeping his calm but
knowing it was difficult for him.

     “I am not judging you,” he said softly. “I
did not mean to upset you, Marcus. I am just trying to understand. Please sit
and we shall speak no more about it.”

     Marcus did not sit, but he did not leave,
either. “How dare you probe me, Chris,” he hissed. “How dare you try and
analyze my actions. By what right?”

     “'Tis my right because it is my wife you
married,” Christopher reminded him.

     Marcus’ jaw ticked. “And my daughter she
bore.”

     “You
bastard
.” David could hold
still no longer. He snarled at Marcus. “You are the most….”

     “Shut up, David.” Christopher cut his
brother off, returning his gaze to Marcus with less calm than before. “If she
is your child, kindly explain how it is she looks like me?”

     “We all see what we want to see,” Marcus
said quietly. “You see yourself, and I see me. But I know without a doubt that
she is my flesh and blood.”

     “Wishful thinking,” David snapped. “She's
not your child, Marcus. She is as much your daughter as Dustin is your wife,
which is not at all.”

     “Stay out of this, David,” Marcus warned.
“This does not concern you.”

     “The hell it doesn’t!” David snarled.
“Anything that concerns Chris concerns me. I should have spilled your guts when
I had the chance.”

     “You never had the chance,” Marcus said
smoothly. “If you recall, I was winning our bout when Richard separated us. If
anyone's guts were to be spilled, it would have been yours.”

     “Arrogant son-of-a-bitch,” David rumbled.
“Jesus, Marcus, what has Chris ever done to you that you would try and destroy his
life?”

     Marcus stopped in his tracks. He was
preparing for an all-out verbal fight with the two brothers when David's words
suddenly struck him. Faltering, he turned away from the two of them because he
honestly could not reply. He never thought of the situation in that context;
what
had
Christopher ever done? My God, was he being vindictive for the
fact that Christopher had earned a greater reputation, or had found more favor
with the king, and he did not even realize it? Confusion swept him.

     “Is…is that what it looks like? That I am
seeking some sort of revenge?” he murmured, turning back around to face
Christopher. “That I am out to destroy you?”

     Christopher just looked at him, not
replying. Marcus had asked the question with such bewilderment that it was
difficult not to feel his honesty.  The white-hot tension that had surrounded
them was draining away and even David began to relax.

     “What do you think?” David said earnestly.
“Of course it looks like you are trying to take everything away from my brother.
His wife, his child, his life… why, Marcus? Did he wrong you somehow?”

     Marcus shook his head vehemently, his
puzzlement overwhelming. “Nay,” he breathed. “I am not trying to punish him for
a wrong against me. We just happen to love the same woman.”

     Christopher sighed, leaning forward with
his arms resting on his knees. “Marcus, she is my wife and Christin is my
daughter. Your marriage to her is void anyway because I was alive when you
married her. She was never your wife, and she was always mine.” He looked up at
him. “I have tried to be patient, I have tried to become angry, I have
threatened you, and I have fought you. Dustin has even told you that she
doesn't want you. What will it take, then, for you to leave us in peace?”

     Marcus, a man of considerable pride,
lowered his gaze uncertainly. Everything that was said, albeit unpleasant, made
sense even to him. He did not want to admit it, any of it, but it was clear
even to him that he was in the wrong. As if a fog had lifted and revealed a
scene as clear as heaven itself, he suddenly realized how very terrible he had
been.