Valteri splashed icy water on his face and scrubbed at the grime plastered there by his hard ride. No doubt dancing with Ariel and the children had added even more dirt, not to mention his rather pleasant fall with Ariel.
He smiled at the memory, until his anger surfaced.
Why had the friar chosen that moment to show himself? It’d been the first time in Valteri’s life that he’d truly enjoyed himself. That he’d forgotten who and what he was.
He never should have paid the Saxon peasant to find the odious brother and return him to his post.
As if sensing his ill-begotten mood, Cecile yowled and jumped from his washstand. Miscalculating the distance, she hit the edge and fell back against the floor.
“Here, now.” He scooped her up and placed her where she’d attempted to land. “Did you hurt yourself?”
She purred under his hand and gently nuzzled his fingers, her pink tongue roughly stroking his scarred knuckles.
Until Ariel, Cecile had been the only creature to show him love.
Stop your maudlin.
He was a harsh man who knew naught of comfort or gentle words. That was his lot, and he’d long ago accepted that fate.
All of his anger fled and he found the part of himself that accepted the life he’d been given. There was no need for his anger, not really. He had people’s respect and fear—what man could ask for more than that?
A soft knock startled him from his thoughts. Pulling his hand away from Cecile’s soft fur, he reached for his tunic and donned it. “Enter.”
To his utter amazement, Ariel walked in behind five of the children from the yard. He frowned at them, wondering what could bring them to his room.
“Kyra has something she would like to say to you.” Mischief glowed deep in Ariel’s eyes.
The little girl who’d taken his hand stepped forward, her arms held behind her back. She bit her lip as if trying to keep her face straight, but the corners turned up until she was forced to smile brightly.
“Say it, Kyra,” one of the boys urged.
Her face turned pensive and her eyes began to tear as if something greatly distressed her. A pain coiled in his stomach. Why was Ariel forcing this poor, frightened child to confront him, a man who obviously terrified her?
“I don’t remember what I’m supposed to say,” she whimpered.
Valteri stared at her in disbelief. Could it be she truly wasn’t scared of him?
The boy rolled his eyes and huffed. “The dance, silly!”
She looked back at the boy, her tears vanishing. She wiped the tip of her nose with the back of her hand, then smiled again. “Oh, that’s right!” She raised herself up on her tiptoes, her smile returning. “We wanted to thank milord for joining us. And we … we…”
“Would like him to join us again,” the boy supplied for her in a highly vexed voice.
She nodded her head. “That’s it! We want milord to join us again.” Her chest swelling in obvious pride, she ran back to the boy, and Valteri noted the flower garland she clutched behind her back.
“Kyra! You forgot something.” The boy pushed her back toward him.
Her mouth formed a small O. Turning around, she ran back to him, holding the garland in front of her. “We made this for you, milord, so you’ll have one like us the next time you dance.” She handed him the garland.
Valteri took it, his hand trembling slightly from the weight of some emotion he couldn’t name. The carefully plucked flowers and greenery chafed the calluses on his palm, and soothed the calluses of his heart.
Nothing had ever touched him so deeply. The thought and time they’d spent on the gift, a gift designed solely for him, made the garland the most precious item he’d ever owned.
The little girl leaned forward, cupped one hand beside her mouth, and whispered in a loud voice, “Creswyn said he wouldn’t be afraid of you next time. He said if I—”
“Kyra!” the boy barked. “’Tis late, we must get home.”
“All right,” she said with a huff. Facing Valteri once more, she tugged on his tunic until he bent down to her level. To Valteri’s utter astonishment, she gave him a light kiss on his cheek.
In spite of everything he’d ever learned, ever been taught, Valteri smiled, his throat far too tight for him to speak. Never in his life had he thought a child would dare come near him, let alone touch him. And here on this day, this one brave child had twice reached out.
He swallowed against the painful lump in his throat, and tried to squelch the hope that flared inside him.
Nay, he knew better than to trust others to follow the child’s example. He’d learned long ago not to trust in such things.
With a cry of outrage, her brother rushed forward and took her by the arm. Instead of the usual caustic comments, her brother shook his head. “Kyra, you’re not supposed to kiss a lord!”
Valteri cleared his throat and ruffled her hair. “’Tis fine. I take no offense.”
Creswyn looked up at him, his youthful eyes relieved. “Thank you, milord. She’s a wayward child. I know not what we shall do with her.” His wistful voice was far too old for his years. A tone he must have heard countless times from his parents.
Valteri plucked a flower from his garland and handed it to Kyra. “Treasure her. Always.”
She smiled, sniffed the flower, then skipped from the room.
Ariel closed the door behind the children, her heart lighter than a fairy’s feather. She turned back to face Valteri, who stared in awe at the garland in his hand. He reminded her of a child clutching its most precious toy.
Smiling at the image, she crossed the room and touched his arm. Hard muscles flexed beneath her palm. “Milord has a most handsome smile. You should practice it more often.”
He took her hand and studied her palm. “I’ve never had a reason to smile. Not until you.”
Giddiness rushed over her. Ariel clasped his hand in hers and reached her left hand up to cup his cheek. Loose tendrils of his hair slid between her fingers in a wicked, sensual way that added chills to her body.
He closed his eyes and held her hand against his cheek as if savoring her touch as much as she savored his. “Milady, why have you come?”
Those familiar words shot through her. Ariel recoiled from him, her mind whirling. She stared at the floor, where an image of a battlefield seemed painted against the stones.
Screams echoed, men clutched at her.
She whirled around, trying to remove their cloying, clutching fingers that pulled at her hair, her dress.
“Leave me!” she shouted, pushing at her kirtle, where their grips held fast.
“Ariel?”
Suddenly, the images vanished.
Blinking, she looked up into the concerned frown of her husband. “’Twas horrible,” she whispered. “Why do they haunt me?”
“Who haunts you?”
“The people.” Terrified, Ariel shook her head, trying to make sense of it all. “I see them. Hear them. Feel them. Why won’t they leave me alone?” She drew a ragged breath. “’Tis as if they want to hurt me and I know not why.”
“It’s all right, Ariel. I’m here. No one will harm you so long as you live. I shall see to that.”
Ariel wanted to believe that. Yet the light in his eyes belied his words. “You want to leave me. Who will protect me when you’re gone?”
A shadow passed across his eyes and she could see her words had struck a part of him.
She crossed the floor to stand before the window. Still, the images lurked in her mind like a violent whisper from the past. “I must be mad,” she whispered, her anger faltering. “There can be no other explanation for what I see.”
He grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. Fury sparked in his eyes, making them cold, unreadable. “You are not mad, milady!” His tone was bitter and angry. “You must never say that to anyone. Do you hear me!”
“Why?” she asked, stiffening her spine to stand against him. “’Tis the truth.”
“’Tis a lie. I’ve spent many a day next to those who are mad. Believe me when I say that you are far more sane than any person I’ve ever met.”
Shock poured over her. “What do you mean you’ve known those who are mad?”
He backed away from her and clenched and unclenched his fists as his breathing turned ragged. When he spoke, she could barely hear him. “As a child, I lived in a small commune of monks and friars. For Sunday mass, the local villagers would bring in those they deemed mad. The brothers would tie us to the altar where we could receive God’s benediction.” He sneered that last word, then turned to face her. “Having known them, I am most certain milady is quite sane. The ones who were really mad were the bastards who tortured us.”
Pain sliced her heart at the thought of him being treated in such a manner. “They tied you to the altar?”
“Aye.” Though his eyes were blank and his tone hollow, she knew those events had bred the ferocity of him.
“Were you not afraid?”
“I was terrified every fucking minute.”
Images of him as a defenseless child filled her. How could anyone do such a thing to a small child? She could barely comprehend it. “Oh, Valteri, I’m so sorry.”
He moved away from the soothing touch she offered. “Don’t be. It was a long time ago.” Rubbing his left hand over his right shoulder, he put more distance between them. “At times it no longer even seems like it was really me. Rather, that it happened to someone else. Someone I never really knew.” When he looked back at her, anger and hatred fired his gaze. “’Tis the past, and the past is best left behind.”
A knock sounded on the door a moment before Wace stuck his annoying little head in. “Milord, milady, the steward bade me tell you that all are awaiting your presence to sup.”
Wishing she had more time to explore the matter while her husband seemed willing to talk about it, Ariel nodded. “We’ll be right out.”
Wace shut the door.
She turned back toward Valteri, and from the expression on his face she could tell he had no intention of joining his people, or furthering their conversation.
Save him, the voice repeated in her head.
“Valteri, you should join us.”
“I’d rather die.”
His stubbornness sparked her anger. How could she save him when he persisted with his isolated ways? “Do you intend to spend the whole of your life in exile from living?”
A strange light darkened his eyes. “I do indeed. It’s worked well for me so far.”
“Has it?” She narrowed her gaze on him. “If you don’t give people a chance to know you, then they shall never see past the rumors.”
His obstinate, mocking snort made her long to toss something at his head. “Should I go out there, the rumors will only worsen.”
“How do you figure?”
“Don’t. I know. Experience has tutored me well.”
Ariel let out an exasperated breath. How could he be so stubborn? She approached him, but he refused to look at her. “Fine. Stay here as long as you wish. But if you truly had put your past to rest, then you wouldn’t continue to isolate yourself from the world. Your past still haunts you, Lord Valteri, and until you face it and conquer it, it will never cease tormenting you.”
That said, she left the room.
Valteri stood in the center of the room, her words echoing in his ears. He wanted to deny them, but deep down, he knew she’d spoken truly.
Aye, his past dogged his steps like a hungry wolf waiting to devour any tender part of him it could touch.
Damn it all! Why couldn’t she just leave him in peace? All he wanted was for the entire world to just forget him. In the past, that had seemed simple. No one ever sought him out. Wace did as he was told and left him to his own. Why couldn’t Ariel do the same?
Just because she had some peculiar notion that she could somehow make everyone forget who and what he was, didn’t mean she could. If he’d learned anything in his life, it was that people rejected him. So he’d learned to reject them first.
All the years past had tutored him well on what would happen should he join in a common meal.
The whispers. The stares.
He was never part of them. Never really welcome.
Was she insane? He’d been rejected by those who were his allies, and here she thought to make him welcomed among the people he’d murdered in battle for his brother.
Hers was an impossible quest.
A bitter pain cramped his stomach. So be it. ’Twas time his bride also learned what he’d known for the whole of his life.
No one wanted him.
They never would.
Ariel looked up as Valteri entered the room. A smile curved her lips. Aye, she had won this battle, with any luck she might take the war.
Valteri sat beside her at the long table, his face drawn and strained.
“You could at least appear to look forward to the meal,” she whispered.
He scoffed as he reached for his goblet and motioned Wace to bring him wine. “Trust me, Ariel, smiling frightens them even more.”
“Pash.” She wrinkled her nose at him, then passed the bread over so that he could have a piece.
He shook his head at her and she knew the words in his mind as if he’d spoken them aloud. He thought her every bit as stubborn as he was. She smiled at the thought. Perhaps she was, but then he needed that for his own good.
Someone needed to stand up to him.
Once the servers had finished bringing in the meal, the friar motioned for all to bow their heads for prayer. Out of the corners of her eyes, Ariel noted Valteri kept his head up, his stare focused on the far wall.
The friar’s words rang out, faltering only when he noticed Valteri’s actions as well.
Edred finished his prayer then looked to Valteri. “Milord doesn’t join the prayer?”
Valteri’s jaw tensed. “I do not force my beliefs on you, brother. I pray you give me the same courtesy.”
Ariel kicked him beneath the table.
He gave her a hostile glare that stole her breath. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, the steward stepped forward.
“Milord, there are travelers at the gate who wish a night’s lodgings and food.”
“Bring them inside.”
The steward hesitated as if he wanted to say something more. Finally, he leaned and whispered in Valteri’s ear.
Ariel frowned, wishing she knew what passed between them.
“It matters not. Bring them in and seat them as noble guests.”
A surprised look crossed the steward’s face, but he said nothing more and hastened to do Valteri’s bidding.
Despite a need to ask about the matter, Ariel held her silence, knowing she’d find out soon enough what had caused the steward’s upset.
After a few minutes, the steward returned, leading three men, the oldest of which appeared no more than one and a half score of years. Their long hair and beards told her they were Saxons and their proud bearing and clothes bespoke their nobility.
Stiffly, they approached the table. Their reluctance obvious, their gazes narrowed almost in unison as they noted Valteri’s eyes.
The eldest member of their party bowed stiffly. “We thank you for your hospitality.”
Ariel held her breath at the obvious slight. ’Twas indeed rude to beg hospitality and not at least acknowledge Valteri’s lordship.
No doubt Valteri had noticed as well, but he gave no indication of the Saxon’s omission. Instead, he nodded slightly, and the steward sat them at the end of the raised table.
Belial leaned forward to rest his chin in his palm, and Ariel wondered at the mischievous look in his eyes as he scanned the newcomers.
Brother Edred engaged the men in English. Ariel returned to her food, noting Valteri’s tenseness, which set her own hands trembling.
She managed a few bites before Belial’s voice rang out. “Now that we have a friar in residence, ’twould seem fitting that we have my sister’s union blessed by him.”
Ariel choked on her food, aghast at her brother’s audacity, especially after Valteri’s earlier declaration.
“What say you, Lord Valteri? Should we not have a wedding mass?”
Why was Belial deliberately provoking him?
Valteri took a drink of wine, then turned to face both Belial and Edred, who had paused his conversation with the Saxons and now sat poised expectantly. “’Twas my understanding the church thinks marriage too sinful to bother with. I believe the official writ says it is a secular matter best left for secular courts.”
Edred nodded. “That has long been held true, but the last council held that all unions should be blessed.”
“Then bless my wife and leave me in peace.”
Outrage hardened the friar’s gaze. “Why does milord refuse a divine benediction? Is there something about our Heavenly Father that frightens you?”
“Nothing about your God could ever frighten me. Save your comforts and words for those who believe. I have no use for such.”
“Blasphemer!” Edred shrieked, coming to his feet. “Heretic!”
Valteri stood up and towered over the much smaller man.
Edred stepped back into the chair beside him, his eyes wide and filled with fear.
Ariel held her breath, uncertain what to do.
Valteri’s lip curled as he raked a glare over the friar. “You forget your place, brother. If your God is not offended by the unseemly cowards who represent Him, then I doubt my few words will incur His wrath.”
“Milord, please.” Ariel took Valteri’s arm. “I beseech you to hold your tongue.”
A tic started in his jaw. “Do not defend this lecherous oaf to me, milady. I know his kith and kind far better than you. And I beseech you to avoid his presence lest you soon learn what true horrors lie beneath his robes.” He raked a sneer over Edred. “There’s not a one of them I’d ever put at my back, including my brother, the bishop. They’re all faithless liars and hypocrites.”
Heat stung her cheeks, his double meaning more than clear. Before she could reply, he left the hall.
Lifting the hem of her kirtle, Ariel ran after him. “Valteri!” She caught up to him just outside the door. “I cannot believe what you just did. What you said! Are you trying to make them hate you?”
In spite of the darkness, she detected his angry glare.
Even so, she refused to let the matter die. “You speak of men rejecting you when ’twas you who provoked Brother Edred.”
“I provoked Edred?” His tone was laden with disbelief. “He was the one to hurl insults, not I.”
“You knew what his reaction would be when you refused to bow your head.”
His nostrils flared. “I will not be the hypocrite he is and bow my head in respect to a deity I have a difficult time believing in.” He shook his head. “Really, Ariel. Do you know why William won’t let me leave England?”
“Nay.”
“Because he knows that of all his brothers, I’m the only one who won’t come at his back.”
That gave her pause. “But I heard that Bishop Odo rallied the troops for him.”
“Aye. And Odo hedged his bets with Harold Godwinson in the event Will fell. He played both sides, and Will knows it. Even now, Will suspects him of treachery, along with the others. It’s why he won’t let me leave. He wants me close in case either Odo or Rob decide to make a play for his throne.”
Her stomach lurched at the thought. But then, she understood. She couldn’t trust her own brother, either.
And she didn’t have a throne to protect.
“William is lucky to have you.”
Valteri scoffed. “Will is a fool to want something best left alone. But that is neither here nor there. Tell me, lady. What kind of god creates a race where brother is constantly slaughtering brother? Yet that is what He’s done from the beginning when Cain rose against Abel.”
Ariel wanted to deny it, but he was right. “You shouldn’t say such things, Valteri. How can you not have any faith?”
Valteri took her hand and flattened her palm against his chest. “I feel my heart beat. I feel the wind against my cheeks. For the whole of my life I have listened to creatures such as Edred tell me that I am not human. That I am God’s abomination. They have cursed me, beat me, and called me monster, all in your God’s name. If I believe in your God, then I must believe the words they say about me. Why else would an omniscient, omnipotent God allow me to suffer in His name at the hands of His servants?”
Those words and the emotion in them tore through her.
He was right. She couldn’t deny the truth he spoke or the reason behind it.
“We are all given free will to choose good and decency or succumb to darkness. All of us are called upon for different paths, and I don’t know why you have been given yours.”
Valteri took her by the arms, his touch strangely gentle. “Forgive me, milady, but I cannot believe in what you say. If I accept your belief, then I must accept what the priests have told me about myself, and I refuse to believe Lucifer is my father.”
He released her and headed for the stable.
Ariel watched him go, her heart thumping heavily against her breast. No wonder he’d isolated himself from everyone. She could barely conceive the loneliness, pain, and despair such isolation must cause.
The human soul had never been created for such a journey. ’Twas a wonder Valteri had lasted so long.
“Milady?”
She turned to see Wace standing in the doorway. “Aye?”
“The people are anxious. The steward wishes for your return so that they may be soothed.”
Ariel stepped toward him. She studied the youth, his face pensive and drawn. “Tell me, Wace. How long have you traveled with Valteri?”
A frown drew his brows together. “Almost four years now, milady. Why?”
She sighed and glanced back at the stable as Valteri left it astride his charger. Without looking in their direction, he galloped through the bailey and out the gate. “Has he always been as he is now?”
His frown deepened. “I know not what you mean.”
“Has he always avoided being with people?”
“Aye. Truth, this is one of the few times we have stayed in a manor for more than a day or so. Normally we travel from battle to battle, or tourney to tourney, seldom ever sleeping indoors.”
“Has he ever spoken to you about why he chooses to live such a way?”
“Nay. He seldom speaks to me other than to give me my duties.”
Her heart aching, Ariel moved to return inside, but Wace caught her arm.
“Please don’t judge him harshly, Lady Ariel. I know the types of things servants and men whisper about him, but I swear on my own soul that they’re all lies. Lord Valteri may not be godly, but he’s far from a sinister demon. In all the time I’ve served him, he’s never once raised his voice or his hand to me. But many times my former master led me to mass while bruises darkened my flesh from the blows he’d personally delivered. Lord Valteri is a good man, undeserving of such criticisms.”
She patted his arm. “’Tis honorable the way you stand by your lord, but have no fear. You need not defend him to me. Like you, I know he’s not the monster others think. You may rest easy on that account.”
Wace nodded and returned inside.
Holding the door, Ariel stared in the direction Valteri had ridden.
She must find the loose rivet in that armor he kept around his heart, and remove it before it was too late. And something inside told her that her time was almost expired.
He was dead set on a fatal quest.
And it was near the end.