Rise of the Defender (96 page)

     She ran a finger over his new scar. “He
still has trouble walking, Chris. And I have heard the knights say that he is
afraid to pick up a sword. Do you suppose he does not want to fight anymore?”

     Christopher's heart sank a little; he had
had the same suspicions about Edward. The man just had not seemed himself since
he had been wounded. Mayhap now that he was returned, he could convince Edward
otherwise. The man was a fine knight, one of the very best, else he would not
have been in the Defender's service.

     “Edward was nearly killed, sweetheart,” he
replied. “'Tis natural that he may be afraid to go into battle again, but I
shall deal with him. Now tell me; how is my sister and why have I not seen
her?”

     Dustin smiled most marvelously. “Oh, Chris,
you will be so happy to hear that Deborah is in love.”

     “In love?” he repeated sharply. “With
whom?”

     “A man from the village,” she replied. When
Christopher's mouth opened in outrage, she put a hand over his lips to allow
her to finish.  “He is a scholar, Chris. He teaches the children in the village
to read and he is deeply admired and respected. He and Deborah have fallen in
love.”

     “My sister is in love with a scholar?” he
said through her hand and she removed it. “Where is she, Dustin?”

     “With him,” she replied, still smiling. “He
holds class three days a week and Deborah helps him.  Even now, he is teaching
a whole roomful of children to read. The class is over at the monastery.”

     He was truly flabbergasted. How could he
possibly be angry that his sister was missing? Deborah was in love, properly
escorted in a monastery filled with priests, helping her lover teach a class of
children. Nothing suited her more, but that was not the point.

     “This man is not even a knight?” he asked.

     “Nay,” she replied. “His father was a
scholar, and his grandfather a bishop. He is very smart, almost as smart as
you. I think you will like him.”

     Christopher stood up, rubbing his chin
absently. “He is not of our station, Dustin. I do not know if I can allow this
to continue.”

     Dustin stood up. “Why not?” she asked. “No
one else has asked for Deborah's hand, and she truly loves this man. You cannot
possibly condemn them.”

     He sighed; it was so much more complicated
than that. “Dustin, it is not a matter of condemning them or not. Deborah is my
sister, a de Lohr, and when I choose her husband I must be sure that the man is
capable of protecting her. Deborah is nearly as vulnerable as you because of
her relationship to me.”

     Dustin saw his point but she was greatly
distressed on Deborah's behalf. “Chris, Deborah has known so little happiness
in her life. She was raised from infancy by strangers because you and David
were off on your own, and for the first time in her life she has a sense of
belonging and of family. She loves Gowen. She wants to be his wife and have her
own family.”

     “Gowen. The man's name is
Gowen,
”
Christopher snorted ironically. “Christ, even his name sounds scholarly.”

     Dustin put her hands on her hips irritably.
“Well, if you are so worried about your sister's safety, then send a troop of
soldiers to protect her. Why does the husband always have to do the protecting
as if that were part of the husbandly oath?”

     “Because it is,” he said. “A husband is
required to protect his wife, to bear arms to be able to defend what is his.
What is
Gowen
going to do when confronted with those who would harm my
sister? Read them to death?”

     He said the name 'Gowen' as if the man was
a feminine little frill and Dustin was greatly annoyed.

     “Where does it say that in order to be a
good husband, you must know how to bear arms?” she demanded. “The knowledge of
warfare and weapons does not guarantee a satisfactory husband. Take the Earl of
Fenwark, for example; the man fought admirably, yet was a terrible husband. If
you had to pick between Gowen and the earl for Deborah, which choice would you
make? A man who would love her and be kind to her, or a man who would simply
protect her should the need arise, and to hell with everything else.”

     He gazed back at her, impressed with her
argument, but firm nonetheless. “I must do what I feel is right for my sister,”
he said. “'Tis not her choice to make, nor yours, nor Gowen's. 'Tis mine.”

     Dustin crossed her arms angrily over her
rounded stomach. “And what if Deborah were your daughter, Chris? Would you
marry her off to a man simply because he could protect her and forget about her
happiness?”

     His stance softened imperceptibly. “Dustin,
you are asking me to make a decision of the heart when I must make it of the
head.”

     “And you are avoiding answering me because
you know I am I right,” she said, feeling herself gaining the advantage. “If
you are so concerned with Deborah's protection, then why cannot she and Gowen
live here, with us? That way, you will be able to protect her always. Would you
deny her the happiness we have found?”

     He stared back at her for a few moments.
When he spoke, his voice was soft and warm. “When did you become so wise?” he
asked. “Did this miraculously happen while I was away?”

     She grinned. “I have had to do several
things on my own since you were away, including sleeping alone in your great
bed.”

     “No longer,” he said, returning her smile.
After a moment, he sighed with resignation. “Very well, wife. I will meet this
Gowen and decide for myself whether or not he is worthy of my sister.”

     “Stop saying his name so disdainfully,” she
insisted. “I have known Gowen since we were children. He is a fine man.”

     He reached out and grabbed her hand,
pulling her over to the bed. “He was not, perchance, one of the many suitors
you had while your father was away?”

     She shook her head. “Nay, he wasn't
interested in me or the keep. But he is very interested in Deborah.”

     Christopher grumbled. “Well for him that he
did not set his sights on you, else I would not allow him near my fortress.”

     She only smiled, thinking how firmly he
spoke of other men's feelings for her when he had allowed Marcus, mayhap the
biggest threat of all, to be so close to her. She remembered Deborah's own
words, how Christopher had feigned ignorance where Marcus was concerned because
of his respect for Marcus, and she saw the words to be true. He had killed on
her behalf before and was not hesitant to do so again, yet he completely
overlooked Marcus Burton. She wondered if he knew of the full extent of her
relationship with Marcus, if he would still continue to overlook the obvious.

     She doubted it.

***

     Deborah returned to the keep by
mid-afternoon after being informed her brothers had returned. She would have
left sooner but she did not want to leave Gowen in a middle of a class, so she
waited eagerly for the session to end, gazing out of the lancet window up to
the massive fortress on the rise, excited to see Christopher and David, and
excited to tell them about Gowen.

     Gowen accompanied her to the fortress, much
more nervous than he would admit now that he was about to meet mayhap the most
powerful warrior in the realm. He could scarce believe Deborah returned his
feelings, and he furthermore knew he wasn't the least bit good enough for her.

     But he kept his ideas to himself, hoping
beyond hope that the baron would somehow bring forth a miracle and accept him.
If he did not, then Gowen knew he would surely never marry because he loved
Deborah far too much to consider another woman. But if he did, then he would be
truly astonished. He prayed harder than he ever had that the baron would
receive him, considering he was the father of Deborah's unborn child.

     Max opened the gates for Deborah and Gowen,
smiling amiably at the tall young man, not missing the chance to throw in a few
good jibes at the scholar's expense. Gowen laughed but Deborah angrily shushed
Max as they made their way to the front door.

     The interior of the castle was dark but
faintly warm, smells of meat roasting for supper hovering in the air. A stocky
black-and-white mutt appeared out of the darkness and growled menacingly at
them, but reconsidered after smelling at Deborah's dress. Then, as if he gave
approval for their presence, trotted off.

     “
What
was that?” Gowen whispered,
watching the frightening dog disappear.

     “Hal,” Deborah told him. “My brother's
dog.”

     Dustin appeared from the hall, her face lit
up with a beautiful smile. Gowen smiled back immediately, for Dustin always had
that effect on him. He'd always thought her to be the most beautiful woman in
the world, a dream so far beyond his grasp he had never thought to pursue it.
Instead, he had been happy to be her friend.

     Deborah and Dustin hugged each other
tightly. “He's back,” Deborah sighed. “Oh, Dustin, I am so happy. And David,
too. Are they well?”

     “In fighting form,” Dustin said gleefully,
then watched as Gowen's face paled. “So sorry, Gowen. I did not mean fight
you.”

     They giggled as Gowen pretended to wipe his
brow. “Did you tell him?” Deborah asked softly.

     Dustin nodded. “Aye, I did,” she replied,
her voice quiet. They could all hear voices coming from the great hall directly
ahead and knew the baron to be in there. “I told him everything I dare.”

     Deborah nodded. “'Tis up to me to tell him
the rest.” She gazed back at Gowen and held out her hand. “But I appreciate you
preparing him.”

     Dustin looked serious. “You have got to
tell him everything, Deborah. Even if he rages and tears the place up, he must
be told. 'Twill only be a few more weeks and he will guess everything.”

     “I know,” Deborah and Gowen held hands
tightly. “Oh, Dustin, you do not think he will hurt Gowen, do you?”

     “Absolutely not,” Dustin said emphatically.
“I will not allow it. I shall throw myself in front of Gowen if I have to, if
that is what it takes to stop him.”

     Gowen tried to get a better look at the
occupants inside the room. “Which one is he?”

     “At the head of the table, with the beard,”
Dustin said, her eyes finding her husband immediately.

     “Which one? Oh….
that
one?” Gowen
swallowed. “Good Lord, Dustin, you never told me that he was as big as a
mountain. Oh, my dear God….”

     He trailed off, looking sick, and Dustin
shook her head. “Stop that,” she admonished gently. “He is as gentle as a
kitten.”

     Deborah gave Dustin a disbelieving look but
said nothing, and Dustin took Gowen's other hand.

     “Come now and meet him,” she said, then
fixed him with a pointed look. “And relax.”

     Dustin was the first one into the dining
hall, smiling brightly at her husband. He returned the gesture and kissed her
hand. He was about to say something to her when he caught sight of his sister
leading a very tall, lanky young man behind her. Instantly, the smile vanished.

     “Lady Deborah,” he said formally. “How good
of you to break away from your busy schedule to welcome me home.”

     Deborah let go of Gowen and went to
Christopher, kissing him dutifully on the cheek before moving around to David.
Gowen, meanwhile, felt the weighty stares of Richard's most powerful knights
and he had never in his life been so scared. But Deborah smiled at him, putting
her hand on Christopher's shoulder.

     “Chris, I would like for you to meet
someone very dear to me,” she said softly. “This is Gowen Olmquist. Gowen, I'd
like you to meet my brother, Baron Christopher de Lohr.”

     Gowen bowed gallantly, even though he was
shaking like a leaf. “My lord, 'tis an honor and a pleasure,” he said kindly.

     Christopher did not say a word. He
scrutinized Gowen, his silence sending the terror of the devil through the
young man. He was extremely tall and thin, but a nice-looking boy with dark
blond hair and a thin mustache. His blue eyes were wide and honest, giving him
a rather innocent look.

     Dustin was feeling very uncomfortable for
Gowen. She glanced at Deborah, seeing that her sister-in-law was also very
uncomfortable. When she squeezed Christopher's hand insistently, he ignored
her.

     “How old are you, boy?” Leeton asked, not
sounding at all like the friendly man they all knew.

     “Twenty-five years, sire,” Gowen replied.
He had a wonderful speaking voice.

     David, having studied his fill of Gowen,
cleared his throat loudly and reached for his goblet. Dustin was about ready to
kill all of them for their inexcusable rudeness, wondering why Christopher was
being so bloody cold.

     “Gowen and I met when we were five years
old,” she said as she let go of her husband and went to her friend, entwining
her arm in his. “He had a beehive and I used to pester him endlessly for honey.
But being a true gentleman, he always granted my requests.”