Dragonblade Trilogy - 01 - Dragonblade (5 page)

“Hardly.”

“Nor shall you. Men do
not like a woman who knows her own mind.”

He couldn’t help the
smile on the corner of his lips. She saw it and it inflamed her.

“If you are done
laughing at me, I shall bid you a good evening and go about my business.”

She bolted up, but
Tate was quicker and grasped her arms before she could get away. He yanked her
harder than he had intended and nearly pulled her across the table. As it was,
she ended up inches from his face.

“You are not leaving
until I am finished,” he found his face strangely warm to have her so near.
“And I was not laughing at you, not in the least. I simply find your manner
intriguing and your answer honest.”

If Tate was warm, Toby
was on fire. Her breath was coming in strange little gasps. “You find my manner
horrid,” she breathed. “You have said so.”

“I never said horrid.
I believe what I said is that you have an appalling lack of manners.”

“Then you have answered
your own question as to why I have never married.”

“You realize that you
have condemned yourself.”

“I would rather be
myself than pretend to be someone I am not.  Woe to any man who cannot accept
me as I am.”

He
stared into her eyes with that strange hypnotic sensation that Toby had
experienced once before. She could feel his warm breath on her face. Just as
quickly as he grabbed her, he released her. Toby caught herself before she
fell, like a fool, on the table. Shaken, she resumed her seat.

Tate collected his own
seat. He took a long drink of wine because he needed it. There were too many
strange thoughts floating about in his mind regarding the woman across the
table. Angry with himself, he focused on his reason for speaking with her.

“I will expect you to
show us the herd at dawn,” he said. “I have much to do tomorrow and do not want
to be held up at Cartingdon.”

“Aye, my lord.”

“Can you give me an
estimate of the worth of the sheep?”

Her brow furrowed as
she struggled to focus on his question, not the heat from his stare. “The top
of the market would be six silver florens a head. The wool will sell for twice
that for a bale. In all, I would estimate you could gain a thousand gold marks
for the entire herd when everything is sold. Leeds would be the best market.
They have a huge export industry.”

It was a pleasing
number. Tate gazed at her a few moments longer before nodding his head. “I
thank you, mistress. I know you are anxious to get about your duties so that
you may retire.”

“I will make sure a meal
is prepared and sent with you on your journey tomorrow.”

“That is kind of you.”

She cocked an eyebrow.
“Contrary to what you apparently believe of me, I do have moments of kindness
and obedience, my lord.”

He gave her no
indication of what he thought of her comment. Toby begged his leave and stood
up, feeling his eyes on her, wondering why it disturbed her so. She was to the
door when she heard his voice again, soft yet commanding.

“Hold, mistress.”

She stopped. By the
time she turned, he was already standing behind her. His steps had been so
silent and swift that she had never heard him approach. Toby’s breath caught in
her throat as he reached for her neck; for a moment, she thought he was going
to throttle her and put an end to her atrocious behavior. Given their first
meeting, she probably deserved it. But his hands forewent her throat and
grasped her shoulders instead, turning her so that she was once again facing
away from him. She felt a warm finger brush the upper part of her shoulder, as
gently as a butterfly’s wing.  It was more than an improper touch and she
should have scolded him. Instead, she couldn’t stop the shudder than ran down
her spine.

“What is this?” he
asked quietly.

She was still trying
to catch her breath, but she craned her neck around and was barely able to see
the angry red welt left by her mother’s bowl. Two choices raced through her
head; either the truth or a plausible lie. She settled for both.

“I was in my mother’s
room and accidentally bumped my shoulder,” she said.

Tate’s face was
expressionless. “You should be more cautious.”

“I know. I am clumsy
at times.”

He didn’t reply, but
there was something in his gaze that suggested he did not believe her. Later,
when she climbed into bed beside the sleeping Ailsa, visions of Tate Crewys de
Lara danced in her head.

CHAPTER THREE

At dawn it was dark,
foggy and wet. Toby rose after a weary night of light sleeping and donned a
garment of heavy gray wool with a matching cape. It was an elegant dress meant
for travel and she wore layers of soft woolen undergarments to guard against
the freezing temperatures. She was still struggling to awaken as her servant
brushed and plated her long hair, catching it up in a heavy net so that it
would not get wet in the disagreeable weather.

The corridor was dark
as she tiptoed towards the stairs. It smelt of soot. Her father would be up
soon in spite of his usual night-long drinking binge, but her mother would
sleep until noon. As she passed her mother’s door, she heard the recognizable
groaning. Feeling the familiar anxiety rise in her chest, anxiety she had felt
since childhood, she paused and the groaning ceased. But the moment she tried
to move again, her mother called out. How she wished she could simply keep
walking. Resigned, Toby went into her room.

It was nearly pitch
black, stinking to the rafters of feces. Toby knew her mother had soiled
herself and she called softly for her mother’s servant, an older woman who was
deaf in one ear. The woman woke from her pallet in the corner of the room and
went to get some water at Toby’s request.

Judith was loud and
miserable. “So you would leave me here to rot, would you? Where are you going?”

“I am going to conduct
father’s business.”

“You are running
away!”

Toby tried keep her
quiet. “Mother, I have business to attend to. I shall return shortly, I
promise. Hegeltha will see to your needs this morning.”

The old servant came
back into the dank chamber and Judith eyed her. “I do not want that old witch
near me. She bites.”

“Nay, she does not.”

“She does, I tell
you!”

Toby’s patience was
waning. “She does not bite you. She is kind to you and you would do well to
appreciate her.” She turned away from her mother, looking at the serving woman.
“Clean her up as best you can. See that she takes some nourishment this
morning.”
The woman nodded. Judith extended her good hand to her daughter. “Please,” she
rasped. “Please do not leave me.”

Toby paused to look at
her mother. The woman was pathetic, but still, Toby could not summon the
emotion to feel pity for her. That had been taken advantage of long ago.

“I must. I shall see
you when I return.”

“Nay, please.
Please!
”

Judith’s hand was
reaching out for her, begging for contact. Against her better judgment, Toby
took the outstretched fingers and was rewarded by Judith digging her jagged
fingernails into her flesh.

“Do not leave me!” she
hissed.

The nails drew blood
immediately. Toby yanked her hand free, examining the four crescent-shaped
wounds on her wrist. Judith began to twitch and cry, as close as she could come
to a tantrum, as swiftly Toby vacated the room. Shutting the door to the
chamber behind her so that her mother would not wake the house, she re-examined
the bloody cuts in her soft flesh. They were swelling already and they were
painful.  Wincing, she pulled on the glove for that hand so that no one would
see what her mother had done. To Toby, her mother’s abuse was normal, but she
was ashamed to let anyone else see her misery.

Toby had left orders
the night before to have her horse and a light meal ready before daybreak. The
meal was waiting as she descended the stairs and entered the great hall. A fire
had been started, but the room was still very chilly and smelled of old rushes.
She found Tate and his party milling about the room, having already eaten some
of the food laid upon the well-scrubbed table. The squire was huddled near the
fire while the knights, heavily dressed and armed, stood off in the darkness.
Toby heard their low voices, ceasing altogether as she entered.

As her eyes adjusted
to the dim light, she found Tate. He was standing with Stephen near the hearth,
his large physique outlined by the backdrop of the blaze.

“Good morn to you, my
lord,” she said.

He dipped his head in
response to her greeting. “We are ready to depart, mistress.”

It was a rather
clipped greeting but she didn’t care. Much to her horror, she realized that she
was glad to see him. She had no idea why. It was a terrible realization and she
struggled to shake off the unfamiliar feelings.

“I am ready,” she
said. “Did you get enough to eat?”

“We did,” he said.
“Perhaps you should take something with you.”

She took a small wedge
of cheese, trying to delicately shove it into her mouth as they vacated the
hall and moved out into the misty morning.  Everything was soaking wet,
including the horses. A couple of the dogs came sniffing around, recognizing
her as she mounted her leggy warmblood. They yipped at the knights but kept a
distance, especially when Tate threw a well-aimed rock at one of them. When the
party moved out, they followed.

The group took the
road to the northwest. The field where the herd grazed was three miles out of
town. It was cold and sodden and silent but for the noise from the horses as
they made their way along the rocky path. Toby was slightly in front of the
rest of them, trying to keep her mind from wandering to Tate. Though she
couldn’t see him, she knew he was watching her.  She fidgeted with her reins;
anything to keep from looking back at him.

“Do you ever have
trouble from raiders?”

Tate’s voice came from
slightly behind her. Startled, she glanced over to see that he had reined his
horse close to her. He seemed to have a habit of sneaking up on her. She had
been concentrating so hard on ignoring him that she hadn’t heard the obvious.

“Sometimes,” she
replied. “Mostly border Scots who come to steal our sheep. Father had a
long-running problem with the Elliot clan near Jedburgh but he solved that by
donating ten head of sheep to them every fall. They have a sizable herd now.”

Tate nodded in
understanding, his gaze moving off across the land. Instead of lightening with
the rising of the sun, it seemed that everything was growing darker.

“I will apologize for
forcing you to endure this weather,” he said. “Hopefully this will not take
long and you can return to a warm fire.”

She shook her head. “I
love this weather.”

He cast her a long
glance. “Why is that?”

“Because there is
peace to it. It is soothing. Sometimes with the sun there is such bustle and
chaos. Everyone is out and about. With the fog and rain, no one is out. It is
quiet and soft.”

“Is your life so
harrowed that you find bad weather comforting?”

“I take comfort where
I can find it.”  The reply had slipped out before she had thought about it.
Uncomfortable, she made a rapid attempt to change the subject. “You mentioned
that you have not spent much time in your lordship.  Do you like traveling so
much?’

“I do not,” he said.
“I would much rather settle down in one place and live a peaceful life.”

“Your life is not
peaceful?”

He shrugged, his big
shoulders lifting. “I am a warrior. I reckon that my life is not meant to be
peaceful by virtue of my profession. That does not stop me from wishing,
however.”

Toby glanced at the
knights riding behind them, massive men on massive horses. “And your companions,”
she said. “Do they travel everywhere with you?”

“They have for many
years.”

“I have never been out
of Cartingdon,” Toby said. “Someday I would like to travel to the places that
you have perhaps been.”

“Where would you go?”

She thought a moment,
visions of exotic cities in far off lands filling her mind. Some days, when her
father drank himself into oblivion and her mother was out of control, she would
sit and dream about being somewhere else. It was a game she sometimes played to
keep her sanity.

“I would like to see
Paris someday. But I have a stronger desire to see Rome.”

“I have been to Paris
many times but never Rome.”

“If you ever go, will
you come back and tell me about it?”

There was something
wistful in her tone that made Tate take a closer look at her. “Do you think you
will never go? Perhaps your husband shall take you someday. Surely he would do
this for you.”