Time and a Third

Tenchebray, France—October, 1106

Brody had heard more than once the mistrals sing of the love that was like an arrow, thudding into one’s chest unlooked for, smiting the victim with a helpless yearning for the object of his affection. He’d heard it and dismissed it, because he knew love. He knew the shape of it, the taste of it. He understood that love didn’t arrive fully formed. It came an inch at a time, creeping into his life until he looked up one day and realized how deeply the emotion ran.

So when the arrow slammed into his chest, that night in the king’s hall, it took Brody completely by surprise.

This was their twentieth day in Tenchebray. It was a well-founded town, with a solid castle protecting it and a monastery that guided the townspeople on the conduct of their lives. It was peaceful and prosperous, newly recovered from the dent that most of Europe had suffered when men and resources had been sent to defend Jerusalem.

They were here because the King was reaching terms with his brother, Edward, whom he had defeated on the fields outside the town. The negotiations were taking time, for Edward was as stubborn as the King. While the King bargained, his lords waited, boredom making them restless and inclined to anger. Many of the lords had sent for their ladies and the distraction and amusement women provided.

Tonight was the first time Brody had seen the woman sitting next to the Count of Regnitz. He found himself staring, his wine cup resting on the long table, forgotten. The Count was sitting on the King’s left and farther down the U-shaped table, while Brody sat on the King’s right and closer. But their positions put Regnitz opposite him. Brody had an unobstructed view of the woman.

She was veiled and modest as was every woman at the table, but her beauty was undisguised. Her eyes were a very pale, almost colorless. As they were surrounded by dark, thick lashes and brows, it made them comely. It was difficult to look away from her gaze. Brody was grateful she was bent over her trencher, her eyes downcast. That one first glance he had caught from her was still strumming, the effects reverberating in his belly…and lower down.

He pretended to sip the wine while he considered her. She had to be the Count’s wife. Henry was a pious man and whores were not tolerated in his hall, no matter how well they presented themselves. Regnitz was middle-aged, but his wife looked to be much younger. She had creamy flesh that the veil and modest panel over her breasts did little to disguise. Her breasts were well shaped and outlined by wine-red velvet and jeweled trim, with the white gauze tucked into the square neck.

She was a fine-looking woman. One of the most attractive women Brody had ever come across.

“You’ve fallen silent, my lord,” Veris said. “Does something ail you?”

Brody tore his gaze away from the woman, as heat seemed to flush through his chest and into his throat. He looked at Veris, who was sitting on his right. The position of honor. “I…it is nothing. A momentary thought.” He struggled to make his words sound indifferent. Veris must be the very last man in this hall to know what he had been thinking…and feeling.

He tried to smile, to disperse the roiling in his belly. Veris watched him, his gaze sharp.

It had been seven years since he had met Veris in Jerusalem and Brody still woke each morning, grateful for the big man’s presence in his life, even if the actual circumstances of their meeting was unknown to him.

He put the mystery aside. One day, Veris always said, everything would be explained to him. One day, somewhere in the future, the four days Brody did not remember would be accounted for in full. He had chosen to trust Veris in this, even without the letter telling him that Veris was above reproach. Brody could not dispute the letter’s origins. Veris said he had written the letter during the four days that he did not remember. Too, there were facts in the letter known only to him. Veris swore he had watched Brody write it. The lettering was Brody’s own hand, he would swear it.

Veris had earned his faith in the years since Jerusalem. Brody would have to be the most ungrateful, scurrilous cad to foreswear him now. He would travel to the ends of the earth to ensure Veris did not suffer from any action or inaction of his.

Veris’ very blue eyes were wary, so Brody summoned a warmer smile, regardless of who might be watching them. “I ate very little tonight,” he said for the benefit of eavesdroppers. “But it seems the little I partook is sitting ill with me.”

Veris glanced at the top table, his gaze pulling away. Did the answer not please him? “The king will be finished, soon. Perhaps you should retire once he has left?”

“Perhaps,” Brody said, prevaricating. He didn’t want to leave until he had learned the name of the woman, at least. One more look into her eyes would be a gift. He stood up. “Toulouse sits yonder. I will ask him for his opinion on the mares. He has yet to commit to the bargain.”

Brody and Veris had spent four years breeding mares with the very best war stallions in the land, developing the bloodline. Now, most of the lords of the land looked to Brody’s estate for the best warhorses. William Toulouse, the cousin of Raymond of Toulouse, who had perished not long after the siege of Jerusalem, had raised the possibility of buying one of the mares for a princely sum, but the outbreak of war between the King and his brother had delayed negotiations.

Toulouse sat two stools closer to the king, with the Countess between him and Regnitz.

Brody could not look at Veris with any steadiness. He dropped his gaze, feeling the flush of confusion and heat. So he picked up his mug, propelled himself to his feet and made his way around to the end of the table and into the space between, where the mummers and musicians were setting up.

It was not a big hall and had been severely challenged to provide properly for the King’s retinue. Complaints about the food were many, when the king was not within hearing and it gave Brody and Veris excuses to avoid eating and drinking.

It seemed those lords on the King’s left were as reluctant to eat as Brody had been pretending to be. Their trenchers held barely-touched meat.

Brody nodded at the new Count of Toulouse and moved to the opposite side of the narrow table from him. In the years since he had inherited his title, William had grown into a man. Leadership sat well upon him. He gave Brody a cheerful smile. “Brenden,” he acknowledged. “You and your men did well upon the battlefield. The king is singing your praises to whomever listens.”

Brody made certain he did not look directly at the lady on Toulouse’s left, even though from the corner of his eyes he could tell she was glancing at him, her head ducked to preserve her modesty. Something tightened in his chest and his heart gave a little jolt.

He kept his gaze upon Toulouse. “Luck was with me. The king’s command to fight on foot caught many by surprise but I and my knight, Will, have both experienced infantry combat.”

“You’ve had experience fighting like a common man?” Regnitz asked loudly.

Brody was grateful for the excuse to look in Regnitz’ direction, even though he disliked the man’s objection to fighting without the benefit of a war horse. “I’ve found it useful to learn other ways of defending and attacking as I come across them. It all helps win victory on the field.”

“It certain helped with this victory,” Toulouse said warmly. “Henceforth, I will not be quite as quick to dismiss new ways. I was very impressed.”

Brody kept his gaze upon Regnitz. “I do not believe I’ve had the pleasure of an introduction.”

“My apologies, Lord Norwich,” Toulouse said hurriedly. “My Lord, allow me to introduce to you Peter, Count of Regnitz. Regnitz, you are in the presence of Brenden, Marquis of Norwich.”

The count got hurriedly to his feet when he heard Brody’s title and bowed. “My Lord,” he muttered. He held out his hand as the woman stood. “My lady wife, Countess Isolde.”

Then she was a noble in her own right.

Brody gave her a stiff nod as she curtsied. She straightened and lifted her chin. Her eyes met his.

Brody just barely held back a gasp. Her gaze seemed to reach inside him, deep into the inner confines of his soul. Something stirred there, as if it had been disturbed. His body tightened with a familiar ache.

Her eyes were grey and quite lovely. Her lips were perfect mounds, slightly red and with a fullness that beckoned, begging to be kissed.

For two heartbeats, her gaze held his, then she dropped her chin once more. But that left the top of her head and the slope of her breasts to be examined and Brody took the chance. She was slender enough under the velvet, but there was an agreeable curve to her hip, to compliment the shape of her breasts.

His heart gave a hard squeeze and began to beat. His nether regions were throbbing with sudden need. But Brody was aware of Veris sitting at the table behind him, probably watching every move he made.

It made turning away from Lady Isolde easier.

Brody made himself look at Toulouse instead and say something about the horses—a suggestion that Toulouse visit on his way back to court, to examine the mares, which Toulouse agreed to.

With parting compliments, Brody turned and walked back to his place on the other long table. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Veris. The ache between his thighs had dispersed, leaving a faint ill feeling instead.

He wished he were human, just for a moment, so that he might quaff the wine in his cup. To drink himself into oblivion seemed to be the best course of action from among the many possibilities that had arisen this night.

* * * * *

ACCOMMODATIONS HAD BEEN FOUND FOR Brody in the castle itself, further confirming the king’s esteem, for other lords were quartered in inns and houses outside the castle walls. The rooms were for his personal use, however. His men were expected to camp in the fields on the other side of the river, with the majority of the King’s army.

As Brody’s chief knight and advisor, Veris had been given a small pavilion down among the men, but he made little use of it except as an enclosed location where his officers could report. The world saw him retire there each night and rise from his bed each morning but in fact, he slipped into the castle each night when all but the guards were asleep. The guards thought Veris was visiting one of the women and jested with him each night as they opened the portal door for him.

Not that Brody needed the bed that had been provided, either, except for certain pleasurable activities, but masquerading as human was as ingrained as using the high guard to fight when afoot.

That night, after tending him, his page scurried out the door to get his own supper and to sleep. It left Brody with too much time to think. He stood at the window with the shutters open and looked down at the town below, which was dark and still, and thought about the madness that gripped him. He considered the possibility that he was suffering the same boredom that the rest of the King’s men seemed to be suffering.

But that wasn’t possible. Not for him. Veris was always with him and he had learned that Veris’ mind was a treasure trove of thoughts and ideas and above all, plans. Veris never stopped thinking about times that laid ahead of them, anticipating what would be needed, the best course of action to situate them in the most fortunate position.

It had been Veris’ idea to raise war horses. He had been certain they would be needed and he had been right. Veris was always considering how to meet a future that only he seemed to understand. It filled Brody’s days—and his nights—with constant surprise and newness. Boredom and ennui were strangers to him.

So why did his attention fasten upon the Count’s wife in this way? The sordid ideas that festered in his mind were truly indecent, well beyond anything he had ever experienced personally.

Brody leaned his head against the cold stone wall. How could he betray Veris in this way?

When Veris rested his big hand on Brody’s shoulder, Brody drew in a sharp breath in surprise. He had been too occupied to hear the inner chamber door open.

Veris gave him a small smile. “Your thoughts were far from here.”

“They were, indeed.” Brody turned to face him as Veris shrugged off the tunic over his mail, then reached for the ties to loosen the mail itself. Brody ducked under his raised arm and untied the leather at the back of Veris’ neck. With no page to hand, he was the only man available to perform this small service and in truth, it was a nightly ritual he found to be pleasant.

“You were distracted, in the hall,” Veris said as he shrugged off the chainmail with a hiss of metal links.

“I grow bored with all this waiting,” Brody lied. “We have so much to do at home. My mind keeps wandering there. How much longer can this pursuit of peace continue?”

“Edward will concede soon enough. His men are even more uncomfortable than the King’s. Their protests will press him to find a settlement quickly.”

“And so the future of England is determined by the lack of cushions and wine,” Brody muttered.

Veris laughed and dropped his undershirt onto the pile of mail. “Expediency has always shaped politics. Arthur’s end came because he was too complacent and settled behind the walls of his castle.”

“And I was under the misapprehension that it was treason that was his undoing. How foolish of me.”

“Aye, the right bribes at the right time had a small effect,” Veris agreed, his smile broadening. His hands dropped to the ties of his braies, making the muscles beneath his flesh move, shaping themselves into rounded mounds.

“How much do you know of the future?” Brody demanded.

Veris looked at him, his hands growing still. “As much as the next man. Why do you ask?”

“I think you are lying about the four days I cannot remember. I think that during those days you somehow learned of things that were yet to happen.”

Veris put his hands on his hips and studied Brody in the way that told him Veris had grown suspicious. Or was he wary? “You’ve never accused me of lying about that time. Not in all these years. Why now?”

“You do not dispute that you have led me falsely.”

Veris shook his head. “Of course I have lied about that time. I have omitted many of the events that happened. It must be that way. There are facts that you must not know.” A shadow touched his expression. “There are facts I wish I did not know.”

Brody was surprised. “Why do you say that?”

Veris sighed. “I’ve tried to explain this to you before. It is very important that we live our lives as we would if we did not know of anything untoward happening in Jerusalem.”

Brody was familiar with Veris’ insistence on this matter. “I do not know of what happened.”

“But I do.” Veris’ voice was low. “Thus I must govern what I do and what I say, every day, to prevent myself from acting upon that knowledge.”

Brody could not look away from him. This was the first time Veris had given any hint that the four lost days contained profound secrets. “You know what will happen to us ahead in time.”

Veris’ expression did not change. “I might. I might not. The effect is the same. It is knowledge that must stay with me.” He moved around the pile of cast off clothing and gripped the fur edges of Brody’s robe and drew him closer. “It is cold in here,” he complained. “Let’s get beneath the covers.”

“As if cold is such a bother to you,” Brody scoffed.

“As much as food might ail you?” Veris asked. His gaze, from this close, was hard to look away from.

Unbidden, Brody thought of another pair of pale eyes and lips that were full and sweet. He closed his eyes and pulled himself out of Veris’ grip, the illness swamping him. His heart thudded with an unsteady pace and he pressed his hand over it and moved back to the calming breeze from the window.

“Brody?” Veris did not sound angry, merely puzzled.

“I think, perhaps, you might be better off in your pavilion tonight.” It took enormous courage to say the words aloud. But every moment that Veris stayed in this room, thinking that everything was as it should be, made the ill feelings increase.

Silence greeted him. It lingered for so long that Brody was forced to turn and look at Veris to see the effect of his words for himself.

Veris was sitting upon the high bed, a frown between his brows. His bare chest gleamed from the light of the candle next to the bed. The puckers and scars from old wounds were like a familiar map, whose contours were known and steady.

“You have never tried to send me away before,” Veris said quietly. “You have never tried to make me angry so that I might go away by myself.”

Brody swallowed.

“I see it only now. I see it clearly.” Veris looked at him. “What calamity has happened that would make you, of all people, try to fool me?”

Brody whirled back to the window and the dark view below of a somnolent village and a peaceful countryside. He pressed his hand into the edge of the window, hard enough to make the stone bite into his flesh. His heart would not cease!

“Brody.” Veris spoke from right behind him. His hand rested upon Brody’s shoulder, this time with more insistence.

Brody reluctantly turned to look at him. “Do not insist upon an explanation. You will not like it.”

“I already do not like it.” Veris said. “We agreed that truth between us was the only way we could stay together when the world would have it otherwise. Now, you are hiding from me.”

Brody leaned against the wall beside the window, wishing he could push through the wall and escape. But the stone remained unmoved and Veris expected a response. He was cornered. There was no escape other than to humiliate himself and risk hurting Veris with the truth.

Brody curled his hand into a fist. “I desire…another.”

There. He had spoken the unpalatable truth.

Now he watched Veris carefully.

Veris’ eyes narrowed and a small frown ridged the flesh between his brows. “Desires of the flesh come and go,” he said slowly. “This is something more, or you would not be trying to tear your heart from your chest in mortification the way you are right now.”

Brody let out a breath. “I don’t know what it is. If it is a passing matter, then it is unlike any other that I have felt.”

“And the object of your passions?”

Brody shook his head. “I will not name them. It is of little interest to you, as I have no intention of ever—”

“Do not swear you will never act upon your feelings,” Veris said quickly.

Brody blinked.

“You roil like a man possessed. You have resorted to lies and tried to send me away. This is no little matter.” Veris crossed his arms. “Is it love?”

Pain speared Brody’s gut. “No! I know what love is. This is not it.”

Veris’ expression softened and his arms lowered. “We live much longer than any mortal man but we are beset by human feelings and emotions and always will be. We two must work to arrange our own rules and customs, that work for our betterment, regardless of what the world might think if we were unwise enough to reveal them.”

“What are you saying?”

“Give me the name.” Veris spoke gently. “Then we can deal with this together.”

Brody couldn’t meet his eyes. The truth was too painful to speak aloud.

“Is it, perhaps, the Countess Isolde who has caught your eye?”

Brody sighed. His humiliation was complete. He looked at Veris, to see his foolishness reflected back at him by Veris’ anger, or disappointment.

But Veris was smiling. “She is a glorious beauty, that one.”

Brody parted his lips, but could not find the words that would encompass his shock.

Veris laughed and squeezed his shoulder once more. “I am no more invulnerable against the wiles of a woman than you. Did you think I had not noticed her?”

“Noticed, perhaps, but to yearn for her?” Brody’s lips felt strange. His voice was strained. “That would be a most vile betrayal of the one you really love.”

Veris’ smile faded. He gripped Brody’s shoulders, holding him at arm’s length. “So that is what has been driving you this evening. Guilt can make a man do the most astounding things….” He shook his head. “You should have spoken sooner and saved yourself this torment.”

“You surely do not condone infidelity?”

Veris drew him over to the bed and made him sit upon it. Then Veris arranged himself so that he was facing Brody. “You agree that we must find our own rules, do you not?”

Brody nodded.

“I have no doubt that you and I will know each other for a very long time. The Lord knows, there are very few men who find the glories of the marriage bed enough to contain them for a mere human lifetime. In our lives, we will both find ourselves distracted by the charms of another. It is only natural.”

Brody frowned. “You are saying that if we want to take another, we should?” It was a horrifying thought.

“A passing fancy? No, I do not. But look at you. You are ill with this obsession. It does not cease. Am I right?”

“Yes.” He said it reluctantly.

“Then why would I punish you further by insisting that your only honorable course is to stay true?”

“There is another way?”

“Woo the woman. Bed her, as many times as it takes to cool your blood.” Veris shrugged.

Brody could barely believe he was hearing the words. “You speak of betrayal.”

“It isn’t betrayal, if I agree with your actions.”

He realized he was still holding his hand in a tight fist and tried to release it, but his fingers would not obey. “I would hate it if you were to ask me for this accommodation.”

“Because you believe that sex leads to love. It does not. You can bed whomever you feel you must, Brody. It will not lessen my regard for you. It will not diminish what you feel for me. In fact, I suspect you will find your feelings strengthened.”

“I do not believe you.” Brody shook his head. “You would feel no anger, not a skerrick of concern, if I seduced the Count’s wife?”

Veris drew in a breath and let it out. “I do not know how I would feel. These are new ideas for me, too. Tumble the lady, then I will report to you how I feel. But in this case, Brody, I think I can spare your quandary.”

Brody waited. Veris often seemed to think far ahead of the conversation but he had learned that if he was patient, Veris would explain himself.

“The Lady Isolde is lovely.” Veris spoke slowly. “I would have no objections to having her, myself.” There was a look in his eyes that meant he was expecting Brody to understand what he was not saying. Sometimes, even Veris could not speak directly about painful or delicate matters.

Brody considered what it was that Veris was unable to say. Then he understood. “Bed her together?” The idea stole his breath.

“You have objections to the idea?” Veris asked.

Honestly above all, Brody reminded himself. “No,” he admitted. “I cannot think of any objections except those of the church, the state, the Count himself and everyone in this castle at this moment.” In fact, his mind leapt to some of the craven imaginings that had flocked in his mind, earlier. Even in his fantasies, he had not considered this possibility, but now that Veris had mentioned it, he could think of nothing else. His heart began to beat.

“Ah…you do like it.” Veris smiled. “The objections of those around us we can deal with. Discretion, of course, is our ally.”

“This, then, should be one of our own rules, shouldn’t it?”

“Secrecy above all, yes. But no other rules, not about what stirs us and ignites passions.”

“Why not? How can we live among humans if we do not?” For this was something that Veris had insisted upon from the beginning, almost from the day Brody had “woken” to find that four days had passed, the siege of Jerusalem was over, the Christian forces had won and a man who called himself Veris had become a part of his life.

Veris had been a valuable aid in the days that followed, for Brody had become a visible man while his mind was not his own. He had apparently found water and food for everyone, with the help of a Fatimid called Alexander and a woman who Veris said was Brody’s wife. That was one of the secrets Veris shared, but not all of it.

“There was a woman you called your wife, whom you introduced to everyone as your lady,” Veris explained. “Now everyone believes she is dead. You must pretend that you are distraught.”

The letter Veris gave him, that was written in his own hand, also insisted upon the pretense, giving the lady a name—Theresa, who Brody and Veris both called Tyra, in public. The writing in the letter was more convincing than Veris’ insistence. Within the letter were hints of consequences that would destroy lives if Brody did not cooperate.

In part, what had convinced Brody to play along with the new life that had been invented for him while he slept was the hint of the future both in what Veris would not say and in what the letter implied. The future—his life somewhere ahead of this current day—seemed to be far richer and more interesting than the one he had left behind. The glimpse of possibilities was tantalizing and Brody knew he would do whatever he must to preserve those possibilities.

Seven years with Veris in his life had further solidified his conviction that the future was worth fighting for. These seven years had been filled with interest and diversity…and happiness.

A large part of Veris’ charm was his insistence upon two things. The first was that they both go on pretending to be human and live by human rules, laws and customs whenever they were observed. The second was that when they were not observed, they would live by whatever rules suited them, no matter how different they were from human ones.

Most of their own private customs were yet to be worked out. So Brody did not understand why Veris was not instituting a new practice now, when they had reached such new territory.

“Relationships between humans are too complex. We cannot arbitrarily dictate how any future affair should go,” Veris said. “You already feel threatened at the thought of me wanting someone else, even if it is a quick tumble purely to cool my ardor.”

“I didn’t understand,” Brody replied swiftly. “I believe I am starting to understand now.”

Veris raised a brow. “You would not be concerned now if I told you I wished to bed Lady Catherine?”

“Do you?” Brody asked curiously, for Lady Catherine Gray was an older matron, with a sharp tongue that her husband did not bother to check.

“Not in any lifetime I live,” Veris said fervently. “But Lady Isolde is a different matter.”

Brody drew in a slow breath, calming himself. “Yes,” he agreed. “That is a different matter.”

“It is fortunate we both want her. It will make this first occasion simpler for us.”

“Then you foresee more occasions in the future?” Brody was startled.

“I do not intend to hunt them, but I expect there will be more. Fevers of the body neither of us can ignore. Passing interests and play things. There will be more.”

It was another hint of a complex, provocative future. Veris’ tone made it seem like he was speaking from a place of knowledge.

“Very well,” Brody said slowly. “We both want the Lady Isolde. We can share her at the same time, if she consents. That seems to be a sensible arrangement.”

“Then you had best devise a plan for wooing her, before you die from the lack of her,” Veris said.

“I?” Brody frowned. “We will not do this together?”

Veris curled his fingers around the front of Brody’s robe. He was smiling. “You are the lord, in this day and time. I am the lowly knight. She would no more consider me a bed partner than she would her husband’s cowherd. You will have to convince her that two of us will be better than one.” He drew him closer.

Brody reached for the ties on Veris’ braies and tugged them loose. “There is no evidence that she will consider me with any more eagerness than she might consider the cowherd. She barely looked up from her meat.” He let Veris pull him close enough to touch his lips to Veris’.

Veris laughed. “Then you are truly distracted by her. I could smell her arousal from across the room. She is eager, Brody. You just have to clear the path for her and she will tumble into your lap.” He pressed his mouth against Brody’s lips, then spoke with his lips brushing Brody’s. “God knows why she wants you. It is beyond my ken.”

Brody pushed at his shoulders until Veris was lying upon the covers. “I will have to remind you.” He pulled Veris’ braies down his hips, until his cock was free. He gripped the solid shaft and Veris drew in a deep breath in reaction.

“Please, remind me,” Veris said, his voice thick with building pleasure.

* * * * *

“IT HAS BEEN THREE WHOLE days!” Brody protested. He strode the length of the room one more time, passing the small hexagonal table where his page had set out food and wine. He could not calm himself enough to deal with the food in a way that would misdirect the humans who served him and make them think he had eaten. He left it untouched.

“These things take time.” Veris spoke calmly, even though Brody’s protest was not the first he had uttered. Veris was sprawled in the big chair by the fire, his hand hanging over the arm of the chair in an indolent posture that made Brody seethe with even greater impatience. The intolerable wait for a response did not seem to bother Veris at all. “As the wife of a count,” Veris added, “her movements are restricted. Consider how long it took to pass her the note in the first place.”

Five days had lapsed before Brody was able to communicate in a more direct fashion with Isolde. Most of those days Brody spent gathering information about the lady’s daily movements and customs.

Veris bribed Brody’s page with a small purse of coins—a fortune for a lad as young as he—and Brody explained what he wanted.

Roderick grinned once he understood his assignment. “‘tis me honor, milord.”

Brody considered Roderick’s delight with some surprise. “You understand, lad, that discretion is the utmost need in this?”

“Not to worry,” Roderick replied, tucking the purse into his belt. “No one ever notices the likes of me. Not ‘igh borns such as yerself.”

Brody sent him on his way with a word of thanks, then spent two more days watching Isolde from across the hall and glimpsing her between dancers and musicians. The Count did not dance, so the lady did not, either. She sat in her place with properly downcast eyes and if Veris had not assured him she felt differently, Brody would have assumed she was moved by nothing in this world.

His impatience climbed higher with each passing day. “If the King announces a settlement has been reached,” he pointed out to Veris, “then the retinue will be dismissed and she will be lost to us.”

After three weeks of chafing for the King to conclude his negotiations, Brody now lived in fear that he would settle.

Veris remained calm and unmoved. He would slip into Brody’s room each night, take him to bed and soothe him as only Veris could. For a few pleasurable minutes Brody happily forgot the Lady Isolde and did his best to demonstrate how much he appreciated what Veris was doing with him and for him.

At dawn on the fifth day, when Roderick was setting up the washbowl for Brody to use, the boy cleared his throat, catching Brody’s attention. “The Lady Isolde, milord…?”

Brody dropped the sleeping robe and stepped over to the bowl, hiding how his heart leapt. The boy could not hear it, after all. “Yes?”

As Brody dipped his hands into the bowl and washed his face, Roderick gave him details about Isolde’s normal day, her movements about the castle and most importantly, the companions she had around her at all times, including her husband.

The timetable underscored the few moments in the lady’s day when she was less well-chaperoned than usual, including shortly before the evening meal when she spent a few minutes in the chapel, praying. Only one lady waited upon her at that time.

There was a very long corridor between the castle main and the chapel, for the chapel had been added as an afterthought. The walls and roof were added to the walk some years later, when the lord grew tired of hurrying through inclement weather for his devotions.

Roderick shared this piece of history, along with the observation that the Lady Isolde used the walk every day.

Brody paid Roderick with another coin. “Silence, lad,” he warned him.

Roderick hurried away, happy.

That evening before the meal was announced, Brody made his way down to the covered walk and found a place more or less half-way along its length where he could linger without raising brows. There was a statue of the Lady Mary there, sitting in a rounded alcove. Someone had tucked roses around the foot of it. Brody could pretend to study the statue if anyone came along. But no one did. The walk was one of the loneliest locations in the castle, especially this close to the evening meal. Roderick had done an excellent job finding the most remote path the Countess traversed. Brody would pay him a bonus after this was all done.

There was a whisper of sound from the chapel end of the walk and he straightened, turning to face the statue. His heart thudded and the sealed note in his hand seemed to grow heavier.

Even when he finally saw movement from the corner of his eye, he did not look around. For the sake of the woman accompanying Isolde, he wanted to give the impression that this was a most coincidental meeting.

Only after he had stepped back for a last long view of the figure, did he glance at the two women gliding down the corridor.

Isolde was wearing green. She favored velvet and the rich fabric suited her.

His heart was beating beyond his control now. Brody stepped to one side of the corridor to give them room to pass. “Good evening, Countess.”

“It is, my lord,” Isolde murmured. “Thank you.”

Her maid was on the other side of Isolde and would see nothing. Brody pushed the note into Isolde’s hand.

This was a critical moment. If she stopped, or looked down, or questioned him on why he had pressed a letter upon her, then he would know that Veris was wrong, that she held no attraction for him at all. Then he would be forced to forget this madness in whatever way he could.

Her fingers curled around the edges of the parchment, her chin remained up and her gaze stayed firmly ahead. Brody turned to watch her continue down the walk. She had already slipped the note into a pocket, for her hand was empty. It was as if the letter had never existed.

The Lady Isolde was not unaccustomed to receiving illicit communications, then.

Brody allowed himself a small smile. There was no one here to see him appreciate his victory. With a lighter heart, he hurried to reach the hall before the king arrived.

That had been three days ago and it was as if he had never acted at all. Isolde appeared at her husband’s side and her gaze never once lifted from her embroidery or her meal, while Brody simmered on the other side of the hall.

“She is mocking me!” he declared to Veris in the privacy of his chamber.

“I don’t believe so,” Veris said quietly. “Patience, Brody. It will work, or it will not. There is nothing else you can do to affect the outcome now. It is all up to the Countess.”

That evening, Brody strode into the hall for supper just barely before the King. Veris was behind him, as was proper, and rammed into him as Brody came to a halt just inside the doors. “My apologies, my lord,” Veris said, as he settled Brody back on his feet. He looked over Brody’s shoulder and frowned.

“They’ve gone!” Brody whispered.

The stools the Count and Isolde had been sitting upon for each meal were empty. There was not even a cup or trenchers in front of the two places.

“I’ll find out what happened,” Veris murmured back. He patted Brody’s upper arm. “It doesn’t have to mean what you think.”

Brody nodded and moved stiffly to his customary seat, where Roderick stood ready to serve him. He didn’t wonder how Veris knew what he had been thinking. It was plain that the Count had left the castle at the urgings of his wife, who wanted to place herself as far away from Brody as possible. Regnitz had risked the wrath of the King by leaving without his blessing. Brody’s note had not been welcomed at all.

Veris made his way back to where Brody waited with the silver goblet squeezed between his fingers as he picked through the unimpressive meal, moving morsels about the trencher and occasionally pretending to eat one. Veris leaned over Brody’s shoulder and spoke so softly no humans could possibly overhear. “The Count begged the King for permission to leave. His wife is ill and he wanted to take her home.”

Brody nodded his thanks and Veris settled on the chair beside him. “It may even be true,” he added. There was a thoughtful air about him as he pushed his trencher toward Roderick.

It took all Brody’s patience to sit through the meal after that. Clearly, Isolde was virtuous and true to her husband. Would the Count call him out? Would he report Brody’s importuning to the King and destroy the esteem the King currently held him in? What would be the consequences of this madness?

Finally, the King stood and left for his private chambers, effectively dismissing them for the night and Brody let out a deep sigh of relief and hurried back to his room, with Veris a pace behind him.

“My lord Norwich.” The soft call came from the cold shadows of the badly lit corridor they were in.

Brody halted, his hand dropping to his belt knife, and turned to look into the narrow passage that led from this main one. He didn’t know what was down there. He had not bothered to learn the layout of the castle other than his path to and from the main hall.

A woman stood cloaked, a pace inside the passage entrance. Behind her hovered a taller figure, covered in shadows.

Veris moved up beside Brody, his sword half-drawn.

“I am a friend,” the woman said. She stepped closer to the end of the passageway, so that light from the single sconce on the wall fell on her. She turned her face so the hood didn’t shadow it.

It was Isolde’s maid.

Brody let out his breath. “Are you not supposed to be miles from here, riding for Regnitz?”

“That is what the king believes,” the maid said. She held out her hand. There was a sealed letter between her fingers. “The world believes my mistress is too ill to move from her bed. She bade me bring you this. Take it.”

Brody took the small square of parchment.

“I cannot linger,” the maid added. “There is a hard ride ahead if I am to return before my absence is noted.”

“The one hulking back there, he is to protect you?” Veris asked.

“Yes.”

“Then order him to carry his blade unsheathed. He’s too slow on his feet to draw faster than the enemy.”

“Safe journey,” Brody added. “And my thanks.”

The maid nodded and pulled the hood more deeply over her face, turned and hurried down the passage once more.

Veris gripped Brody’s elbow. “Wait until we’re behind a closed door before you read it,” he advised.

“I knew she would respond,” Brody said as they hurried for their room. “She was too practiced at hiding the letter I gave her.”

Veris snorted. “Of course you knew.”

* * * * *

BRODY HELD THE OPENED LETTER out to Veris. “Regnitz went home. Isolde is lying in some country house outside of Landisacq.”

“That’s only six miles away,” Veris pointed out. He took the letter and bent it toward the candle to read it.

“It’s her family’s house. She stopped there to ‘recover’.”

Veris grinned. “I like her more and more. The Lady Isolde has a devious mind.”

“Six miles, or six thousand miles, it makes no difference,” Brody grumbled. “I can’t leave Tenchebray. The King would never forgive me.” He whirled away. “Damn! How long will the King take to squeeze penitence from his brother?”

“This afternoon, you were terrified that he would find agreeable terms,” Veris pointed out. He put the letter aside and looked at Brody. “You really are not experienced with the subtle art of lying, are you?”

Brody snorted. “I have passed as human for four hundred years. That is not lying?”

“But you have passed as human by being human, as much as is possible. You’ve lived honorably and truthfully. No wonder the King adores you so.” He tapped the letter. “Do you still want to go through with this? We can ignore the lady’s instructions if you would prefer and you can go back to playing the upright Lord Norwich.”

Brody recalled an image of Isolde, of the curve of her breast and hip, the softness of her flesh. His body responded in a hot rush that made him draw in a sharp breath.

Veris was watching him, absorbing every reaction. That was the other side of this tempting package. The attraction in sharing Isolde with Veris had become more powerful than the original fantasies he’d entertained. “No. I don’t want to go back.” His voice was thick with lust.

Veris’ expression warmed. “Then we must find a way forward.”

* * * * *

BRODY STUDIED THE MAN IN front of him, feeling a degree of astonishment. Wybert was a lowly foot soldier in Brody’s army, whom Veris had sought out and brought through the hidden byways to Brody’s chamber. After Roderick had brought water and Veris forced the man to wash and shave, Veris had dropped Brody’s fur robe over the man’s shoulders and stood back. “As long as he does not speak, he will pass for you.”

“Wot’s wrong wit’er way I talk?” Wybert asked.

Veris winced and Brody laughed. “This venture grows more tangled with each turn. Fine. Let him be me. We might all hang by sunset tomorrow, but the night should make that worthwhile.”

Veris put a short stack of coins in front of Wybert. “You understand what you are to do?”

Wybert nodded. “Pretend I’m ‘is lordship. Stand in the middle of the room if anyone comes t’th door so they sees me.”

“Which someone will,” Veris said. “It’s been arranged,” he added when Brody raised a brow.

“A witness to swear I was here all night. Very well.” He pulled in a deep breath and let it out. “Thank you for this, Wybert. You, too, Roderick.”

“I wanted to do it,” Wybert said.

Brody tilted his head. “You like subterfuge?”

“Don’t know what that is,” Wybert said bluntly. “But it seems to me and the lads that it’s been too long since your lady-wife was taken from you. It’ll do you good. Enjoying yerself, so to speak.”

Veris was laughing, but hiding it. Brody contained his smile. “Thank you,” he said gravely. “I’m glad the lads approve of this venture. I hope that means they’ll stay as silent as you on the matter?”

“Wot, talk an’ ruin yer chances wiv the lady? Not them.”

“Very well,” Brody replied. He glanced at Veris, who was still struggling to hide his amusement. “Ready?”

Veris got to his feet. Like Brody, Veris was dressed in dark robes and a black cloak. Nothing was adorned with Brody’s house shield, or the blue and white colors.

They passed out through the same narrow passage Isolde’s maid had used the previous evening. Veris knew his way about the back passages and soon they were stepping through a small portal into the rocky river valley that ran at the foot of the curtain wall. Their horses were tethered at the end of the valley, gnawing on straw that Veris had left for them earlier in the day.

Ten minutes later, they were on the road, riding through the dark night for Landisacq.

The village of Landisacq, when they reached it, was smaller and quieter than Tenchebray. It had no castle or monastery to protect it and it was not a market town. There was a mill on the stream and a blacksmith shop at the cross-roads. It appeared that the entire town had been built around these two essential services.

No one watched them ride through. Every cottage was dark and even the smith’s doors were closed.

“How long will our luck hold?” Brody muttered as they left the village behind.

“It doesn’t have to,” Veris said. He lifted his chin, pointing ahead. There were lights flickering, perhaps half a mile away. “The family home.”

As they drew closer to the house, they slowed to an easy canter, then to a gentle walk, to diminish the sound of their approach as much as possible. It was a warm, gusty night and the wind had been whipping their cloaks around them as they rode, but now Brody was grateful for the noise.

There was no one guarding the house. It was a grand manor with dun colored brickwork, black shutters guarding the windows and many outhouses and sheds gathered behind it. Clearly, the house had been built to serve the lands around it as a farmhouse, for there were no proper defenses. The family must look to Tenchebray for protection in times of need.

But for now, the night lay thick around the buildings with little to disturb the peace.

As they let the horses pick their way across the turf toward the house, Veris loosened his sword. Then he relaxed as the door opened and a cloaked figure carrying a candleholder came out. They lifted the holder high and Brody saw a slender arm. The maid.

A smaller shadow squeezed through from behind and came over to them.

“Ralph will see to your horses,” the maid said as the boy put his hands on the reins.

“Who guards this place?” Veris asked. It was his right as Brody’s knight commander to question the security of any building Brody entered, but it was also a self-preserving query. If the Count’s men were controlling the house neither of them would enter.

“There were two guards, but they are sleeping,” the maid said. “My lady added a draught to their wine. They will sleep until morning, now.”

Brody dismounted and removed his gauntlets and the maid turned and led the way back into the house. Veris crunched across the gravel behind him and followed them in. He shut the door and dropped the heavy bar across it.

The room beyond was dark, but the single candle illuminated fresh rushes and scoured stone.

The maid held the candle higher. “Your knight will find accommodations in the kitchen, my lord, through that door…if you will come with me?”

“Will stays with me. I want him to ensure the house is secure before he leaves my side.”

The maid looked startled, then indignant. That told Brody that she was used to showing men through to her lady’s bedchamber and even more accustomed to ordering companions out to the kitchen. This was outside her experience.

“Come, come,” Brody said, injecting impatience into his voice. “I have no intention of standing in this chilly house discussing such matters with a chit of girl. Show us the way.”

“Very well,” she said softly. “This way.”

The stairs were properly narrow, allowing a single man to climb at a time. At the top was a stout door, which stood ajar, but the maid closed it behind them and lowered the bar. She put her finger to her lips, then she glided across the narrow landing to push open the door on the other side. There was a second door, also closed, on the far side. From behind the door came the sound of gentle snoring.

This time, the maid stepped back out of the way.

More light spilled upon the wooden floor.

Brody glanced at Veris, then went in. He could feel Veris behind him, although he moved silently as always.

The bedchamber was large and airy. Furs had been laid across the floor instead of rushes, smothering any chilled air that might rise from the floor beneath.

The bed was a large thing, with curtains for warmth and privacy, cushions and pillows and rich cloth draped over the covers. Opposite was a fireplace big enough to step into and this was the chief source of light. A fire leapt within it and a hound slept on the hearth undisturbed by their arrival, which was more evidence that strangers in Isolde’s room were a common occurrence.

Isolde stood in the middle of the floor, between the foot of the bed and the fire. Her back was very straight and her chin raised. She had no difficulty looking Brody in the eye now.

Her veil had been removed, along with the gauze over her dress. Her breasts pushed against the wine-red fabric and her throat rose long and slender above. The flesh of her shoulders and upper breasts was as soft and white as her face. She had deep black hair.

Her small hands clenched into fists as she looked past Brody. “What is he doing here?” she demanded.

* * * * *

THE DOG LOOKED UP FROM the hearth, his attention pricked by Isolde’s tight, hard tone.

Veris moved past Brody. “I believe you owe her an explanation.” He bowed to Isolde. “Brody will explain everything.”

“‘Brody’?” she repeated, startled. She glanced at Veris as he drew off his cloak.

“That is my family name,” Brody explained. “Those who are dear to me, who are…intimate, call me Brody.”

She bit her lip, which told him she was not as calm as she had first appeared.

“Do not be afraid,” he said. “Neither of us would harm you in any way and while we are here, we will allow no one else to, either.”

She gripped her elbows, her arms tight across her middle. “Fine words,” she tossed back.

Brody half-turned. “Would you permit me to close the door? It is letting out the warm air. Closed, it will let me speak freely.”

Isolde nodded, her arms tightening around her.

Brody shut the door, considering how to proceed. Isolde was wary, which wouldn’t do. But more than half his thoughts were occupied with her natural beauty. Under the veil she was almost flawless. Without cloak or shawl to disguise her, her body was more than agreeably outlined by the fabric of her gown.

He didn’t need Veris to tell him that they must have Isolde’s complete and happy cooperation if this seduction was to proceed. Brody had never taken a woman against her will and Isolde would not be the first.

But how to convince her of the pleasure that awaited, if only she agreed? It would help considerably if he was sure of the matter himself. He could not imagine what it might be like for a lady to accept two men into her at once, although Veris assured him that done properly, the lady would enjoy it just as much as Brody knew he would.

Perhaps that was the key to convincing her….

He turned back to face her and removed his cloak. Like Veris, he wore a plain black tunic and braies, with no mail or cumbersome jerkins. He was unarmed, except for his belt knife. For a normal human, it would be a risk to travel without a sword at least, but Veris and he could tear a human apart with their hands if they chose to, while all the blades in the world could not touch them.

“You are more than familiar with the pleasures of the flesh, my lady,” Brody began.

Isolde drew a breath and let it out, making her breasts rise enticingly. But she didn’t speak.

“We are here in your room at your invitation,” Brody pointed out. “Both you and I are breaking vows we have made just by standing here. You with your marriage vows and me with my oath to the King to always be at his service. I will not judge you as wanting if you would do the same for me.”

“Very well,” Isolde said, her voice low. Her gaze fastened on him. “You propose we speak candidly.”

“There is no other way,” Brody replied, pleased that her mind was quick enough to follow his thoughts. She was a treasure, indeed. “So let us begin by agreeing that pleasure is what we both seek this night.”

Isolde pressed her lips together, considering. “I agree to that,” she said at last and the corner of her mouth lifted in the smallest of smiles. “It would be hypocritical to swear otherwise, would it not? I did invite you here, as you have pointed out.”

The tiny smile tugged at Brody’s chest. He glanced at Veris. Veris was smiling, too. He was enjoying this. All his attention was upon Isolde.

Brody turned his gaze back to her, too. “You are practiced at seeking pleasure outside your marriage, are you not?”

Again, she hesitated. Then she nodded. “On my wedding night, twenty minutes after doing his matrimonial duty, my husband took two of his favorite whores to bed in his own chamber, in front of the entire household. I was ashamed, but my humiliation was complete when he swore to anyone who would listen that I provided no stimulation, that he was barely able to do what he must.”

She shrugged. “I found another man, a knight, who was willing to teach me what pleases a man in bed, but he also taught me that a lady can experience pleasure, too. It is a pleasure that often seems to outshine that of a man’s.” Again, she gave a small smile. “I developed an appetite for that pleasure.” The smile warmed and became a wicked one. “But my husband has never benefited from my education.”

Veris laughed and she glanced at him, a tiny frown puckering her brows. “I have seen you with Lord...with Brody, in the hall, but I do not know your name.”

“I would be very surprised if you did, my lady,” Veris said, his smile fading. “I am a mere knight.”

“Yet you sit at the high table.”

“Veris is my knight commander and manages my household army,” Brody said. “But more than that, he is my friend. A very good friend.”

“Veris,” she repeated flatly. “A name as odd as ‘Brody’.” She looked at Brody. “Did you two become such fast friends after your lady-wife died?”

Brody was surprised. “You have been asking questions about me?” If she had asked the wrong people, or been too eager in her quest for information, then others might know of her interest in him. That was how speculation and gossip began.

Isolde shook her head. “I mentioned your name to my husband, the same night we were introduced. I am sure this does not come as a great surprise to you, but my husband feels some bitterness toward you. You have the favor of the king. Once, my husband was similarly favored, but now he is placed at the end of the table on the King’s left side. I merely mentioned your name and my husband was eager to damn you in my eyes by telling me every harsh fact he knew of you. Some of it, I am sure, is greatly exaggerated. But it is true that you took your wife upon the Crusade and that she did not return.”

“It is true,” Brody said as steadily as he could. “And it is also true that Veris and I met in Jerusalem and he returned with me to England.”

“I supposed life must have been quite wretched after the loss of your wife. A great friendship would have been a boon.”

“It was, indeed.” Brody spoke the truth.

“Is that why you allow Veris into my room with you?” she asked.

His heart leapt. “No.”

“Ah.” She glanced at Veris once more, then lifted her chin to look at Brody squarely. “I have heard whispers. Rumors. Of more than two people in a bed together.”

Brody let out his breath. The most challenging part of this seduction had been overcome by gossip. He gave her a smile of his own. “Your intelligence is matched only by your beauty, my lady.”

“Then that is what you propose?” She glanced at Veris again. “It is possible? I admit, I do not understand how it might work.”

Veris got to his feet, moving slowly so he didn’t startle her. “You needn’t concern yourself with that. We understand how it works.”

She watched Veris drawing closer. “Is it…pleasurable?” she asked, her voice very low.

Brody crossed the furs, moving closer toward her. “It is more pleasurable than a single man in your arms,” he told her. “Consider that you have twice the number of hands at your disposal, just to begin.”

Her lips parted and he heard her breath catch. She was imagining what four hands might be able to do to her.

Veris rose to his feet and the movement caught her gaze. She looked at him, startled. She was still wary, then.

Veris held up his hands, showing that he was unarmed and not the slightest sort of threat. “It is good to know you have no objections to simple knights in your bed, my lady. May I step behind you?”

Brody understood that he was calming her and seeking her cooperation by asking for her to approve of his movements. If Isolde were permitted to make decisions, she would feel that this was as much her idea as it was either of theirs.

Isolde considered for a moment, then nodded. “You may.” Her voice was rich and touched by a note of roughness. Clearly, her mind was already far ahead, anticipating what was to come.

Brody moved in front of her as Veris stood behind her. She looked up at Brody, her fine jaw drawn a clear, clean line. Her lips were very full and enticing, but her eyes were still wary.

“A simple kiss to begin,” Brody murmured. “Do you agree?”

She drew in a deep breath, making the front of her gown lift and the flesh over her shoulders to gleam in the light from the fire. “Yes, a kiss. I have been wondering what a kiss from you would be like, these last few days.”

“As have I,” Brody said truthfully. He bent and kissed her. Her lips were exactly as soft as their plumpness promised. For a moment they rested placidly against his. Then they parted and she was kissing him back. Her arm wound around his neck, bringing him closer, until their bodies touched. Her breasts were warm against Brody’s chest, telling him she wore little beneath the velvet.

His body hardened. His cock stiffened, the blood rushing to fill it with a speed that added an extra dollop of pleasure.

She was everything he had imagined she might be—soft, eager, warm and with a scent that washed over him and made the formation of thoughts difficult. His body was asserting itself, driving him into action.

Isolde pulled her mouth from his. She was breathing hard and there was a pleased, warm expression in her eyes. “Whoever taught you, taught you well,” she observed. She turned to face Veris. “Would that have been you, perhaps?”

Veris’ surprise was almost comical and Brody held his teeth together to stop his laughter from escaping.

Isolde did laugh, a soft sound that seemed to stoke the back of his neck. “It is no secret that men will turn to other men when there are no ladies to spare. My husband told me so, to shock me, I think. But the same person who whispered in my ear of three people at once also confirmed that it was true that men will take men into their arms, sometimes purely because they want to, not because of a lack of any other choice.”

“You have an inquisitive mind, my lady,” Veris said carefully, “and an accurate sense of judgment. It does not offend you?”

Brody couldn’t see Isolde’s face, but her saw the tiny movement of her shoulders. The long, long skein of thick black hair hanging down to below her hips swung a little from the movement.

“I know my bishop would tell me it is wrong not to be offended, but I admit that what I feel is curiosity, not offense. I would like to learn what it looks like for men to be together before I judge if it is wicked.”

Veris smiled and Brody could see that he was relaxing and letting down his guard. Isolde’s independence of thought was making this seduction easier than it might have been. All the objections they had anticipated Isolde might raise had been cast aside.

“I’m sure we can arrange for you to see what that looks like,” Veris said.

“Very good.” Isolde put her arms around Veris’ neck. “You must kiss me, now. I want to know if the master failed to teach the student anything.”

Veris pulled her closer. She was a slim reed next to him and his arm wrapped around her waist with room to spare. His big hand caught the back of her head and held her steady. His eyes were very blue in the low light, as he glanced at Brody before bending his head and kissing Isolde.

Their mouths met and after a moment, Veris closed his eyes and his arm around her tightened, his fingers spreading over her hip.

Brody watched them kiss with a curiosity of his own. His concern about this moment faded as he observed their growing excitement, the tightening of the lines of their bodies and how they strained against each other. He had thought the sight of Veris kissing another would rouse his anger, or worse, his jealousy. He had been unable to carry the thought beyond a simple kiss. His mind had rebelled at considering anything more…passionate.

But now, with Veris and Isolde right before his eyes, he could truthfully say that he found the sight to be merely interesting. No ugly concerns raised themselves. But it was more than interesting. As Veris stroked the back of Isolde’s well-curved hip, Brody realized that the tension in his body was increasing.

He liked it.

Brody let out his breath, the last of his worries evaporating just as Veris’ concerns had disappeared a few moments before.

He pressed himself up against Isolde’s charming back. Her rear pushed against him and she gasped, tearing her mouth from Veris’ to look at Brody over her shoulder. Her lips parted as if she was about to speak, but Veris laid his lips against her throat and licked it and Isolde instead gave another gasp. Her chin lifted, giving Veris access.

Brody moved Veris’ arm out of the way and cupped her hips with his hands. He felt the softness of velvet and flesh beneath, hot through the fabric. He curved his fingers over the graceful curves and slid them along her flat belly, until they met, just below her waist.

Veris worked his mouth along Isolde’s throat, following the line of the great blood vessel in her neck, although it was unlikely she would know that was the reason for the path his lips took.

Isolde’s eyes were closed. Her head rolled back until it was almost resting against Brody’s shoulder. Her attention was subsumed by the feelings she was experiencing.

Brody cupped her breasts through the gown, feeling the weight of them. Isolde’s breath shuddered as it emerged and she thrust her breasts into his hands, encouraging him.

Veris pushed the gown from her shoulder. The neck was wide enough to let the edge of it drop over the sharp angle and slide down her arm a short way. He reached around behind her and pulled at the lacings on the back of the gown, while teasing the nape of her neck with his tongue and lips.

Brody wondered if Isolde was even aware of the opening of her gown. Her pulse was frantic and he could hear her heart racing. Her eyes were almost completely shut, the gray beneath the lowered lids stormy with desire.

Veris pushed the gown down her arms. She was bare beneath. Brody let her breasts go and the velvet sagged about her waist, exposing them. The tips were sharp with excitement and flushed a dark red.

Veris tugged the gown over her hips and down to the ground, bending to pull the garment away from her feet as she stepped out of it and out of the slippers she wore beneath.

Brody couldn’t help but fit his hands around her waist, the tight curve there almost beckoning him. Her hips were womanly and her limbs beneath slender and graceful.

Isolde turned to face him, her waist swiveling in his hands. “Do I please you?” she asked.

“Most certainly.”

Veris picked up her hand and kissed the back of it. “You are a most uncommon woman,” he told her and she dimpled in response.

Brody had to agree with him. Isolde was utterly unlike most women he had known.

She rested against Veris and he slid his hand beneath one breast, playing with it, teasing the tip, making her lips part. Brody watched the play of Veris’ big fingers over her creamy flesh. He already knew what it felt like to hold her breast in his hand. His cock began to pulse. His heart was already beating by itself, for it had slipped loose of his control.

“You should remove your garments,” Isolde told Brody.

“Indeed,” Veris agreed. His voice was low and deeper than usual. He was aroused and containing it. It added to Brody’s pleasure to hear that strained note. Veris was finding Isolde as much of a bounty as he.

Brody shed the tunic in one movement, dropping it to the floor at the foot of the bed. He wore only his braies and undershirt beneath. Like Isolde, he and Veris had worn the minimal number of layers, to make undressing less arduous and the need for pages unnecessary. Stripping himself of the remaining garments was even less taxing.

His cock stood upright, signaling his eagerness. The air seemed to brush it gently, a preview of what was to come.

Isolde was looking at him directly, with no coyness or blushing. She was indeed practiced at the art of seduction. But her brazen study was enticing all on its own, especially when she was as naked as he.

“Veris, you must, too,” Brody said and he wasn’t surprised to hear how hoarse his own voice sounded. This arrangement with the three of them was generating a far different sort of excitement. It wasn’t greater than any other intimacy he had enjoyed, either with men or with women. It was simply different and because it was novel, it was increasing his anticipation.

Veris let go of Isolde’s breast and pushed her toward Brody. “I need both hands,” he explained.

Isolde looked up at Brody with a small smile. There was a fire in her eyes that spoke of deep arousal. She was enjoying herself, despite her initial nervousness. Then she glanced over her shoulder and saw that Veris was removing his clothes, so she turned to watch him with as much interest as Brody did.

Veris had enormous strength, as both a vampire and a man and it showed in the breadth of his shoulders and the muscles that flexed and gathered under his flesh. His height made him a distinguishable figure on the battlefield, but gave him the advantage of reach that he used mercilessly. He was a powerful knight with matchless skills.

But Brody appreciated that skill only in passing. As he watched Veris undress, he found himself remembering instead the many hundreds of moments when it was just the two of them. Veris’ quick smile and fast wit. The touch of his big hands, which were more than gentle in those times….or not.

Isolde looked up at Brody, her expression one of curiosity. “You enjoy watching him?” she asked, sounding surprised.

“As much as I enjoy looking at you.”

Her smile was small. “You have…known Veris for long?”

“Since my wife died.”

“He comforts you.”

“It is more than comfort he provides,” Brody said, his tone flat.

Isolde looked startled, then her expression warmed. “You are a most fortunate man,” she murmured.

Veris dropped the last item, his undershirt, to the floor on top of Brody’s pile and put his hands on his hips. His cock was turgid, jutting from his thighs and dark with arousal. “This provider is impatient. Such fine flesh in front of me and my hands are empty.”

Isolde put her hands on her waist, to match Veris. “Then you must fill them.” She stepped aside and glanced at Brody.

“I would obey, my lady,” Veris told her, “except that Brody has been in a fever to have you and I would take him away from that.”

Isolde glanced up at Brody. “I did not guess that. Not for a moment. Your discretion is extraordinary.” And she moved closer, until her body pressed up against him, the sharp tips of her breasts brushing against his chest. She drew her arms around his neck, reaching high. “Veris is right. Less speech would be appropriate. Kiss me, Brody.”

Brody picked her up. She was a feather in his arms, but heated and softer than the finest wool. He took the few steps over to the side of the high bed and laid her on the cover. “Far less speech, yes,” he told her. His body was stirring again, almost aching with the need to finish this. But he would not rush to the end. He would savior each fresh moment.

He knelt on the bed and kissed her breasts, drawing the tips into his mouth and teasing them with his tongue. He drew them out with his teeth, scraping the edges against her little nubs.

Almost as soon as he began, Isolde began to writhe upon the covers, her breath sounding hurried and rough.

Brody felt the bed give and glanced up. Veris moved across the cover, to settle on the other side, next to Isolde. He gave Brody a small smile and bent his head to draw her other breast into his mouth.

Isolde gave a sharp gasp and her fingers dug furrows into the rich cover, beside Brody’s knee. “Oh…!” she said breathlessly. “Two is almost overwhelming.”

Brody agreed. Just knowing that Veris was sharing this moment with him, along with Isolde’s heightened reactions, had tightened his sinews. His cock was throbbing with heat and want. He could easily finish this in a heartbeat or two, but wanted to draw it out for as long as possible.

He separated Isolde’s knees and drew one creamy thigh up and out, spreading her limbs and opening her up. He smoothed his palm over her flesh, to hover over the her mound. The heat radiating from her was immense. She was highly aroused. As his hand hovered, her hips rose, inviting him to explore.

He dipped his fingers into her moist channel and Isolde choked off a cry, pressing the back of her hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. Her body jerked in reaction to his touch, proving that she was as eager as Brody. He pushed his fingers deeper, feeling the squeeze of muscle, then lifted his hand higher to find her nether lips and the nub between.

Veris’ fingers tangled with Brody’s as he dropped his hand lower, beneath his. Veris thrust his big fingers into Isolde, delving without resistance. Brody stroked the little core of her as Veris thrust and Isolde lost all control. She squirmed and panted. She moaned.

Then her hand gripped Brody’s knee and her body arched. At the apex of that arch she grew still, but her body was wrenched by tremors. Brody could feel her nub pulsing against his fingertips.

“Lord…!” Veris breathed. “Such responsiveness….”

Brody could wait no longer. He needed to curb his appetite. Even as Isolde lay recovering, her breath ragged, he lay down beside her and picked her up, his hands around her tiny waist. He lifted her over him.

Isolde spread her knees. Her eyes were shining with pleasure and anticipation.

Brody brought her down upon his thickened shaft, spearing into her. She was hot and tight around him and once she came to rest against his hips, her flesh completely around him, he drew in a slow breath, controlling his reaction, damping it down. If he did not, he would spend himself almost immediately.

It seemed like the most natural thing in the world that Veris be lying next to him, watching him take a woman. Natural and far more pleasurable than the act alone, despite how sweet it was to bed a woman.

Isolde smiled at Brody, then glanced at Veris. “It is strangely agreeable to have you observing in this way.”

Veris raised a brow. “I don’t intend to merely observe.”

“No?” She swallowed. “Then…?”

Veris moved off the bed, bent and picked up his belt. There was a small purse hanging from it that had, besides a handful of coins for bribes and payments, a stone vial of oil.

Brody drew in a breath, fighting for calm, as he guessed what Veris intended. His heart jumped and began to beat even harder.

“What is that?” Isolde asked, watching Veris over her shoulder.

“Oil.” He climbed back onto the bed and pressed against the back of her shoulder, bending her forward so that her breasts brushed Brody’s chest once more.

Brody could see over her shoulder and watched Veris cup her bottom, then slide his hand between her cheeks. Brody caught his breath, for he could feel Veris’ fingers, brushing against the base of his shaft and moving just above him.

Isolde’s eyes widened, then slowly closed, as Veris continued to stroke and tease. He eased the stopper from the oil with one hand, then paused to pour it onto the other. His hand returned to Isolde.

Brody could not see what Veris was doing, but he knew from past experience what that would be. Then he could feel Veris’ fingers, inside Isolde, pressing against Brody’s cock through her flesh.

It was a novel and rousing feeling. Brody closed his eyes, marshalling his discipline. He must wait.

Veris worked at Isolde’s flesh, preparing her so that he could enter her that way. Isolde remained still, her eyes drifting almost completely closed as she sampled the experience. “I understand now,” she whispered. “I see how it goes.” Then after a pause; “How wonderful this will be!”

Her pleasurable anticipation sent a thrill through Brody and he clamped his jaws together tightly, holding himself still. It would indeed be wonderful…if he could withstand the pleasure already battering him.

Veris stoppered the flask and tossed it back to the floor, then settled over the two of them, propping himself up on one strong arm. He looked down at Isolde, at the point where Brody entered her and guided himself up against her.

Isolde caught her breath. Her full lips formed into a silent “oh!” and her eyes widened.

Brody could feel Veris enter her. He moved slowly, a tiny increment at a time, pausing to let her become accustomed to the feel of both of them at once. Long before he was fully lodged inside her, Isolde began to breathe heavily. Her body trembled against Brody’s.

Veris gripped her hip in one hand, as he settled against her. “You still enjoy yourself, my lady?”

“Oh, yes!” she breathed. “This is better than anything I have ever tried before.” She looked down at Brody. “Much better,” she murmured and kissed him.

Brody agreed. This was better than anything he had ever experienced. He looked at Veris over Isolde’s shoulder. Veris wore the small smile he did whenever he was deeply moved. Veris didn’t speak of matters of the heart very often, but the smile always assured Brody, anyway.

“Yes, this is much better,” Brody said.

Veris drew in a breath and let it out. “Yes,” he breathed and began to move. The shifting of his cock inside Isolde, pressing up against Brody’s shaft, triggered Brody into a helpless thrusting of his hips. He held Isolde still as he worked against her.

The movement of both of them inside her made Isolde’s eyes widen and her lips to part. Her already ragged breath expelled in a heavy gasp. Then the pleasure swamped her and her eyes drifted closed. She began to moan in soft little spurts and her trembling became a wild shaking.

It was overwhelming. Brody strained against her, driving himself deeper, striving for a pinnacle of pleasure that seemed formidable.

Isolde’s peak arrived first. Her breath held and her body stilled as the pleasure gripped her. Brody felt her squeeze around him, clamping down so tightly that he could barely shift inside her. It was the last skerrick of encouragement he needed. He spilled himself, a deep groan tearing at the back of his throat and stealing his sight for a heartbeat or two.

When he focused once more, it was upon Veris’ face as he drove himself into Isolde, his eyes almost completely closed. But there was a sliver of blue to be seen and as Veris came, Brody could see that he was watching him.

For long moments, none of them moved. Brody listened to their heartbeats slow and their breathing grow more even. He felt a rare moment of contentment.

Isolde lifted her head from Brody’s shoulder and looked at him, then turned her chin to glance at Veris, who remained propped tirelessly over both of them. “I do believe the pair of you may have completely spoiled my appetite for just one man.”

Brody’s laugh caught him by surprise. He let it out and with it flowed all the tension and worry of the last few weeks.

* * * * *

THEIR RETURN TO TENCHEBRAY WAS completely without incident. There, they found the castle in an uproar, despite it being the dawn hours. They were able to ride directly through the gates and into the yard without raising a single brow, for men ran hither and yon, while beasts brayed and panic seemed to echo up from the walls themselves.

“Sherrington!” Brody called, when the lord strode close by. “Has an alarm been raised? Has Edward…?” He didn’t finish, not wanting to invite such a disaster down upon them by speaking of it aloud. But it was a fear they had all silently held, that the king would not be able to find terms his brother would accept and the hostilities would break out once more.

“We’re dismissed!” Sherrington called back. “Terms were reached late last night. The King has given everyone leave to return home.”

Brody glanced at Veris.

Veris lifted a single brow. “I presume the hysterics represent the eagerness everyone feels at the thought of leaving this place.”

Brody grinned and turned his horse toward the stable. “You gather the men down on the field. We decamp within the hour. I’ll meet you there.”

“Milord,” Veris acknowledged and wheeled his horse back around to the gate.

Brody trotted his horse to the stable, where he would leave it for the barest amount of time he could manage. He was just as eager as anyone to return to the comforts of home. But as he strode through the corridors, stepping around others as they hurried to leave, he felt a touch of regret. Returning home meant no further opportunities would present themselves in regard to the Lady Isolde. But it was only a small regret. That passion had burned itself out in a magnificent flame last night.

Just as Veris had predicted it would.

* * * * *

THEY WERE THREE DAYS ON the road before Brody had the courage and the opportunity to speak to Veris with complete privacy. The more senior knights were back among the troops and foot soldiers, encouraging them to keep up, to stay in formation and to stay alert. After three days, two of them bleak with falling rain, discipline had slipped. Despite the new-found peace between the king and his brother, the roads were still chancy to travel, even for a medium-sized company, so encouragement was needed to keep up morale and vigilance.

That left Veris at the head of the column, close by Brody’s side.

Brody flicked his fingers, indicating that Veris should draw level.

“My lord?” Veris enquired, in a voice that wasn’t loud, but would travel back to the ears of those closest to them. Two carts separated Brody and Veris from the infantry behind.

Brody gripped the slack reins, feeling the leather strain between his fingers. He looked at the white flash between his stallion’s ears and the swirl of hair in the middle of it. He drew a breath. “The lady had the right of it, Veris.”

Veris didn’t answer, which forced Brody to look at him. Veris was watching him, clearly waiting for a better explanation.

“Her appetite for just one…” He picked the phrase carefully, avoid any telling words. “I, too, think I may have been spoiled.”

“One will no longer be enough for you?”

Brody began to rephrase his words to something more neutral, then scowled. “Damn it,” he murmured. “You will always be enough. But a solitary woman?” He shook his head. “It would not be the same if you were not there.”

Veris was suppressing a smile, the one he wore when his emotions had been touched.

“But of course…” Brody began, then stopped. He had been about to say that the moments with Isolde were unique and would never happen again. Then he checked himself as a novel thought raised itself, one that he had never considered before. What if there were many women like Isolde? Eager for pleasure and independent in thought, unshockable and experienced? He had not anticipated that Isolde would be such a willing bed partner, for the face she presented to the world was that of a proper, pious wife. What if other women were also hiding their true natures?

“Do you think it is possible…” he began and Veris did not object to the complete change in direction. “Do you think there are others like her? Others that we can both…have?”

Veris shifted on his horse and cleared his throat.

Brody glanced at him. “I know. It is a childish question, but this is all new to me.”

“It is new to me, too,” Veris pointed out.

“You have never…taken two at once before?”

Veris drew in a slow breath, marshalling his reaction. Hiding it.

Brody recognized the mannerism. “What is it you will not speak of?” he challenged. “You have done this before?”

Veris’ gaze skittered away. “Just once,” he said, very softly.

Something cold and hard seemed to spear Brody through the chest. He gasped out a breath. The day, which had seemed to be so bright and clean after two days of rain, suddenly paled.

Veris lifted up his hand, as if he would reach for Brody, then remembered where he was and clenched the hand into a tight fist, instead. “Do not look like that,” he begged, his voice low.

“I know,” Brody said, his lips thick and uncooperative. “Your past runs longer than mine and there are secrets in it I’m not privy to. I must become accustomed to the idea, but it is difficult.”

“Damn it, Brody,” Veris said hotly. “Don’t look like that. You were there, too.”

This time, no words came to mind. Brody just stared at him. “I?” he asked stupidly. Then his mind began to work again, as the shock passed. “The four days,” he breathed. “It was during the four days.” The coldness in his chest was being replaced by a heated excitement. This was the first real confirmation Veris had ever given him of any events during those four days.

Veris pressed his knee into his horse’s flank, directing him closer to Brody’s, until the horses were shoulder to shoulder and Veris’ knee bumped against Brody’s. “You should not worry about my past, Brody. There is nothing in it that you need fear.” His voice was low.

“Does not every man fear the dark?”

Veris was back to staring at his horse’s head. It was always this way, when he spoke of his emotions. “You have no idea how much my life has changed since you entered it.”

Brody made himself breathe and remain silent, least he stop Veris from saying more.

Veris’ mouth worked, as if he were searching for the least awkward words among many. “I have had many women,” he said slowly. “Men, too. None of them have ever held my affections as much as you.”

“Affections,” Brody said flatly. It was a strangely disappointing word.

Veris sighed and looked at him. “I have never loved another, until you.”

Warmth filled him. Brody found it was now he who had to focus upon his horse. “In nearly five hundred years, you have never loved another?” he asked, his heart squeezing.

“Not like you.” The words were flat with sincerity.

Brody let another mile go by while he considered this. Veris rode the length of the line and back, checking on the alertness of the men, before returning to his side. Their horses walked companionably together, while they let the reins go slack. The road was well marked here.

Brody glanced at Veris. “If I was really there the first time you had two of us, then who was the third?”

Veris’ jaw rippled as he clenched it. Brody recognized the expression. Veris had closed down. He wasn’t going to reveal anything more about that time. He would insist, as he always did, that Brody’s ignorance protected both of them, but would never explain why it was so.

“Oh…” Brody sat up straighter. “It was her, wasn’t it? The woman.” The wife he had never known, whom half of Jerusalem had mourned when she had been lost to them.

Veris shook his head. “You know I cannot speak of this.”

“Then it is about Jerusalem,” Brody insisted.

“It’s about the future,” Veris replied. “Our future.”

Comforted by this love he had not experienced, Brody rode on. Veris knew the future and it was a future where they were still together. That was enough for now. The rest would come.

In time.