The Legend (45 page)

"What, my friend?" Ali
pressed gently.

Alec threw up his hands in an
irritated gesture. "When father changed his mind and dissolved your
betrothal to Ivy, I questioned him as to his reasons. One minute, he was a
staunch supporter of your union and in the next he was attempting to convince
me that Ivy would be better off as chatelaine of Wisseyham. It was as if.... as
if my father had been bewitched, somehow. I have never known him to show a weak
moment, but suddenly he became a coward who went back on his word. I delivered
Ivy to you because it was the right thing to do and I will never regret my
decision. But what I did not know, or what my father neglected to tell me, was
that Nigel Warrington had given my father an ultimatum; since I had married
Peyton and presumable stolen his son's betrothed, Nigel bade my father to
choose between Ivy and Thia for Colin's bride."

Ali, who had been listening
closely, suddenly let out a hiss. "Which was why he appeared to have
broken his promise regarding my marriage to Ivy. 'Tis only logical that he
choose her over Thia, who shall probably never marry."

Alec shook his head. "She
most likely already is, to Colin no less. I do not understand why my father did
not trust me with Nigel's threat. Had I known, I most certainly would have made
plans for my sister. As it was, I sealed her future the moment I took Ivy from
Blackstone."

Ali drew in a long, cleansing
breath as he digested the statement. "I Do not understand why your father
should be intimidated by Nigel Warrington. For that matter, I do not understand
why your father would even deal with him. Your father is his liege, not the
other way around. He acted as if the king himself had delivered the choice of
brides."

"Warrington seems to be at
the root of my father's bout with cowardice. The moment contact was established
between Nigel and my father, submission and weakness constituted my father's
character. It doesn't make sense to me, Ali. You know my father is nothing of
the kind. At least, I never thought so."

Ali did not say anything for a
moment. "Have you spoken with him since?"

"Nay," Alec shook his
head regretfully. "And there was an ugly scene with my mother the night
Peyton and I left."

Ali scratched his chin and pushed
himself off the barrel that had been supporting his weight. Thoughtfully, he
paced the straw floor. "I will send word to my father, then, and ask that
he come to St. Cloven. He will be able to tell you what has happened since your
departure."

       Alec almost looked
pleased, feeling relief that he would soon be discovering the fate of his family
since his departure. In lieu of an emotional response, he rose on his long legs
and clapped Ali on the shoulder as both men moved for the great doors of the
store house. "I am glad you are here, my friend. I have missed you."

Alec did not want to talk about
his problems anymore, which was fine by Ali. With all that Alec had sacrificed
for his happiness, he was feeling tremendously guilty. He, too, was eager to
change the subject.

"Do not kiss me," he
warned sardonically.

Alec laughed heartily as the bright
mid-day sun swallowed them up.

***

Olphampa arrived at St. Cloven
three days later. Elegant Sula received Ivy as if she was her own flesh and
blood, and even Peyton was blessed with a warm embrace. After a lengthy meal of
fowl, mutton and boiled vegetables, the women retreated into a small solar to
allow the men to converse.

Although Alec was perfectly
willing to dance about with pleasantries before delving into the complex
subject of his father, Ali was not. He rammed into the subject with the grace
of a hurricane.

"I assume Lord Brian told
you that he has disinherited Alec," he said in a low voice. "Has he
reconsidered his stance? And what of Thia? Is she married to Warrington?"

Olphampa gazed steadily at the
two men, drawing in a thoughtful breath. "As far as I know, he has not
reconsidered his stance, although he has said very little on the subject. And
as for Thia, she is not yet wed."

Alec looked surprised. "Why
not?"

Olphampa poured himself more
fruited water. "Brian pleaded for a 'grace period' by which to make
arrangements, and also for the couple to become better acquainted. Thia and
Colin have spent the time becoming accustomed to one another, although it is
obvious that hostilities are growing," he eyed Alec hesitantly.
"Alec, you know that I would never second-guess your father. He is a wise
and generous man and I have known him the better part of my life. But this
contract with the Warringtons.... even I cannot comprehend his reasoning. It's
as if he is allowing Nigel to force him into compliance."

"I know," Alec said
softly. "Ali and I were commenting on the very same thing.  Would you have
any idea why?"

Olphampa shook his head slowly.
"Brian has not confided in me. But I see.... I see a fear in him when he
looks at Nigel, an unholy horror. As if the man is a deadly threat."

Alec snorted, pouring himself
more ale. "Warrington is not a threat. My father could snap the man's neck
with two fingers."

Olphampa wagged a finger
seriously. "Nay, Alec, not a physical threat. 'Tis more than that.  A
deeper, more devastating danger."

"What do you mean?"
Alec asked, passing Ali a curious glance.

Olphampa sat back in his chair
thoughtfully. His eyes were distant. "I do not know, Alec. I wish I did.
Your father fears Nigel Warrington for reasons we may never know."

Alec rose, cup in hand. He
pondered Olphampa's words, puzzled and worried. "Have you asked him?"

Olphampa shook his head,
fingering his tunic. "Once. He avoided the subject as if I would ask him
to pledge loyalty to the Devil. I never asked again."

Alec stopped his pacing and
looked to the small black man. After a moment, he slammed his chalice to the
table with a resounding clang. "I have had enough of this. Something is
occurring and my father is lacking the simple courage to tell us. I have never
known the man to have a cowardly day in his life until Nigel Warrington
arrived," he jabbed his finger at Olphampa. "I am going to find out
the reasoning behind this ungodly fear and do something about it. No man
intimidates my father."

"And just what do you plan
to do?"  Ali asked quietly. "Call Nigel out in a duel? Burn down
Wisseyham? Refuse him ale shipments? Think about what you are saying,
Alec."

"I am," Alec snapped,
his usual control loosened considerably. "I am thinking that Nigel
Warrington has been too much of a problem and shall continue to be so until
someone does something. He has harassed St. Cloven for years, He is been a
party to rapes and unspeakable other crimes, and now he has my father whipped
into submission for an unknown reason. I shall not tolerate his abhorrent
presence any longer."

"What are you going to
do?" Ali repeated his original question, eyebrows upraised intently.
"Kill him?"

Alec paused a moment, turning to
his ebony friends. His expression cooled considerably, like a man blessed with
unquestionable confidence. "Hardly. I will not need to when I press Edward
to confiscate Warrington lands and, in turn, annex the property to St.
Cloven."

Ali and Olphampa looked at each
other, surprised, before returning to their white-skinned companion.
"Edward would confiscate all of England if you demanded it. You must be
serious about this if you plan to contact our king."

"I am and I do," Alec
said decisively. "I will not allow the Warringtons to destroy my family
any more than they already have. They must be neutralized."

"And thereby you hope to
return to your father's good graces?" Olphampa asked softly.

Alec's confident stance wavered
slightly and he lowered his gaze. "'Tis as good a start as any. Do you
disagree?"

"Not at all. But you must do
it before Thia weds Colin. If Edward confiscates the lands after they are wed,
your sister will be in an even worse bind than she is already. She shall be the
wife of a destitute," Olphampa stood on his short legs. "Were I you,
young Alec, I would send a missive to London tonight and demand that Edward
send word to Brian opposing the marriage between Colin and Thia. With the
wedding postponed or dissolved, 'twill buy you time to petition Edward for the
Warringtons' obscurity."

Alec nodded shortly and summoned
a servant. As the woman went running for the brewery steward, he turned to his
friends with regained confidence. "I do imagine Edward will be surprised
to hear from me after all this time."

Ali smiled and returned to his
ale. "His heart will probably stop from sheer shock."

"Christ, I hope not. I would
hate to be indicted for murder."

Laughing at Alec's expense,
Olphampa moved for the cedar-molded doorway that led from the great hall.
"I must walk off your grand meal, Alec. Will you do me the honor of
showing me your magnificent acquisition?"

The subject of Brian and the
Warringtons faded as Alec took pleasure in displaying his new home.

***

"How's your head?" Ivy
asked, smirking at her sister's discomfort.

"Awful," Peyton rasped,
eyes closed as she slouched against the back of her chair.

Ivy laughed softly. "Jubil's
willow potion is not helping?"

Peyton tore off the cold compress
that she had been pressing to her forehead. "It tastes terrible and makes
my stomach hurt. I have had this headache for four days and it's not gone
away," she replaced the pack and sank even lower into the chair. "I
think I am dying."

"Good," Ivy snorted,
leafing through the book in her hand. "Now, shall I finish the story?
Where was I?"

Peyton tossed the compress to the
floor and stood up, weaving dizzily a moment. Ivy watched her with concern.
"Now what?"

Peyton shook off her unbalance
and moved for the door. "Nothing. I am going to paint for a while. Mayhap
that will help my head."

Ivy's smile faded as her sister
quit the room. Peyton wasn't feeling at all well; she hadn't been well for over
a week. At least since her and Ali had returned to St. Cloven. The usually
vital woman was sleeping longer and her fast temper was surely faster. Between
the absence of appetite and the constant headaches, she had been a taxing
company. Alec, even though he had been very patient and sweet with her, had
been preoccupied with his own problems and Ivy found herself with Peyton
constantly, listening to the gripes.

Ivy returned to her book, puzzled
with her sister's behavior and mystery illness. Even though she pretended
otherwise, she was nonetheless concerned. She hoped Peyton's self-pitying
prophesy wasn't unwittingly true.

Downstairs, Alec and Ali came in
from the storehouse. Olphampa, sequestered in the solar with Sula playing a
hearty game of backgammon, barely gave the two men a glance; he was terrified
that his wife was close to becoming the victor. Alec and Ali grinned at the two
latest residents of St. Cloven.

"If my father loses, He
shall kill himself," Ali commented as they mounted the stairs.

"You are father takes his
game playing too seriously," Alec replied. "Your mother is a highly
skilled player; Christ, she can beat me."

Ali laughed softly as they
reached the second floor. "Speaking of parentage, we haven't received a
response from Edward as of yet and it has been six days. What do you suppose is
keeping him?"

Alec shook his head. "I
requested one hundred crown troops to reinforce my seventy-five. I expected to
hear word on that particular solicitation, at least."

"Or a congratulations on
your marriage. I cannot believe Edward would remain silent on that
regard."

They reached the small ladies
solar and were greeted by Ivy's blond head. Ali smiled at his wife as Alec's gaze
perused the room. "Where's Peyton?"

"Fighting off a bad headache
and a bad mood in her painting room," Ivy said, laying her book aside and
focusing on her husband.

Alec nodded his thanks and quit
the room in search of his wife.

Ali closed the door softly behind
him, bolting it for good measure. Alone in the solar with his bride, there was
no mistaking the seductive smile that spread across his face. Ivy matched his
grin, reading his mind.

"Again, Ali? Now?"

The eager new husband nodded
slowly, decisively. "Here and now."

***

Alec found Peyton seated in front
of her easel, stroking the parchment delicately with a horsehair brush.  Shades
of yellow and black graced the vellum, so skillfully blended they appeared
real. Alec stood behind her in silent appreciation for a moment, admiring his
wife's talent.

"Sunflowers," he
murmured. "'Twill be pleasurable to gaze upon during winter's bleak
days."

"It's for your mother,"
Peyton said softly, expertly dabbing at her palette. "I thought she might
enjoy them."