Master of Craving (23 page)

“Stefan?” Tarian asked, slowly approaching him from the stairway. “What is wrong?”

 

He let out a long breath and slowly unfisted his hands and looked at her. “Nothing.”

 

She looked past him, knowing what he would not say. “Riders approach, Stefan. They fly the colors of Dinefwr.”

“The lady is in my chamber. Send Brighid to watch her.” He moved past her gaping face and hurried down the stairway, glad for the interruption. “Call the guard to arms!” Stefan shouted as he hurried into the hall.

“Gareth and Ralph are positioned in the courtyard,” Tarian answered, catching up to him.

Brighid rose from the chair in front of the hearth. Tarian pulled her aside and had a private word with her. The girl’s eyes widened as she looked to Stefan. He scowled heavily at her. She swallowed hard and hurried past him. The vestiges of his frustration had not lessened. He took a moment to compose himself, grateful for Lady Tarian’s silence. He turned to her and offered his arm. Together they strode out to the courtyard.

Gareth and his men, backed by Ralph and a full showing of his men, sat upon their destriers, mail-clad and lances down. Stefan nodded in approval. They had planned their reception of the Welsh and Norse down to the last horse.

As the red and gold boar standard of Dinefwr came into view, followed by the blue stag on a white field standard of Magnus the Tall, Stefan scowled. Emotions he did not want to acknowledge warred a vicious battle with his duty to his brothers. He pushed all thoughts of Arianrhod of Dinefwr aside. His only yearning, he told himself, was to see his brothers safely returned.

The captain of Arian’s guard, Sir Cadoc, he presumed, galloped ahead of his men coming to an abrupt sliding halt before Gareth and Ralph in the courtyard.

 

Stefan strode toward him, “Disarm yourselves!” he called in Welsh.

 

Cadoc looked past the guard to Stefan. He watched dark eyes narrow behind his helm. “I demand to see my lady!”

Stefan continued toward the knight, and as he did the rest of his company followed closely, and though Stefan had complete trust in Tarian and her captain Gareth, ’twas not the same as knowing that his brothers had his back. Easily Stefan moved between Gareth and Ralph, and though he was at a disadvantage, he showed no fear. Indeed, he would gladly take on any man at the moment. Mayhap it would ease the fire in his blood.

“You will see your lady in good time, and that will depend on how quickly you and your men drop your weapons to the ground.”

Cadoc looked past Stefan, hoping, Stefan was sure, to catch a glimpse of his lady. “I assure you, sir, she is alive and well. Disarm yourselves so that we may
parle
and proceed with the most urgent business at hand.”

Wordlessly Cadoc dropped his sword, threw his bow and quiver of arrows and his dagger to the ground. His men, along with the Jarl’s, followed suit. Once they were disarmed, Stefan said, “Now dismount and hand the reins over to my men.”

Slowly they did so. Once divested of all but the clothing on their backs. “I demand to see my lady this instant!” Cadoc cried.

 

“Who here represents Magnus of Norway?” Stefan demanded, ignoring the Welshman.

The standard bearer stepped forward. In very broken Welsh, he said, “I am Sar, my lord Magnus’s steward.” He looked over his shoulder to a hulking blond giant who sneered at Stefan. “Sir Ivar, the late Lord Dag’s captain, and his men.”

Stefan nodded and looked past him to the other Norsemen, who stood with defiant sneers across their faces. “Are these men Lord Dag’s?”

 

Sar bobbed his head, and said, “Most, sir, but several are from my lord’s household.”

 

To Cadoc Stefan said, “Come to the hall, sir captain.” He turned to Sar. “And you as well. We have grave business to attend.”

As they entered the hall, Arian came flying down the stairs, her face alight with happiness. “Cadoc!” she cried. As she came closer, Stefan grabbed her by the arm halting her before she met her man.

“Nay, princess, there is time for greetings
after
your man hears and agrees to my terms.”

She yanked her arm from his grasp and stared hotly at him. Her cheeks pinkened when his gaze swept the length of her. He could not help it. At the first sound of her voice, his body responded, and he knew she too relived what had transpired such little time ago in his chamber.

Cadoc made a move toward them. Stefan’s sword, as well as Lady Tarian’s, stayed him. “Stand back, sir, or find your innards on the floor,” Stefan warned. Cadoc’s eyes bounced from Arian’s to Stefan’s but he stepped back.

“I seek only to learn my lady’s welfare.”

“As you can see, she lives and breathes.” Stefan stood back, his eyes scanning the servants and townsfolk. “Be gone from the hall!” He turned back to Sar and Cadoc, motioning to the lord’s table. “Sit, so that we may
parle.”

When Arian moved to sit beside her captain, Stefan drew her to his side and gently but firmly pushed her down on the bench, then took the seat to her right. Lady Tarian was to his right, Cadoc and Sar across the table, Gareth and Ralph, behind them. Once the hall was clear, he spoke. “Sir Cadoc, King Rhiwallon and his brother Bleddyn have something I want. Six of my fellow Norman knights. Your master, Prince Hylcon, and”—he looked at Sar—“your master Lord Magnus want something I have.” He inclined his head to the princess. “My lord King William will be greatly vexed when he learns of his knights’ capture. I am sure your respective masters will be greatly upset when they learn of the lady’s capture. I therefore propose a trade. The lady for the knights.”

Arian stiffened beside him.

 

“But, sir,” Cadoc erupted, “why would Rhiwallon give up the knights for my lady?”

Stefan leaned forward. “Because if he does not,
your
master will come after him, Magnus of Norway will come after him, and my lord William will come after him, but not before I get a piece of him first.”

Cadoc sat still for a moment, soaking it all in.

 

Arian cleared her throat. “If I may speak?”

 

Stefan nodded.

“When I accompanied my father to Dublin earlier this year for the great summit, emissaries from Denmark, Sweden, Wales, and Scotland attended, their sole concern Normandy.” She looked hard at Stefan. “My betrothed spoke for the young king Olaf, just returned from Orkney. He spoke passionately of wanting peace with Normandy as well as all of England. Magnus has interests here in England as well, and desires only peace. ’Tis one of the reasons he chose me as a bride. He wishes no enemy of the Welsh.” She swallowed, “But I suspect he wants no enemy of William more.”

“What else was discussed?” Stefan asked, his curiosity piqued. ’Twas unusual that such magnates gathered on foreign soil to discuss peace.

“King Murchad of Dublin’s pirates are more savage then the Vikings of yore. They cause much damage to the trade routes; my father has suffered great losses by their hands. Murchad needs allies to the east to squelch the uprisings in his own land, so a bargain was struck.”

“Hah! ’Twas Irish pirates who destroyed my lord’s fleet!” Sar said. “ ’Twas not safe to return by longboat, so we had no choice but to cross England.”

 

“It does not matter right now,” Arian said. “With such concern for peace, my father and my betrothed will agree to any terms in an effort to stay the Conqueror’s wrath.”

 

“But Rhiwallon is stubborn! His hatred for William is deep,” cried Lady Tarian. “He is the key! What if he does not relent?”

Stefan calmed her. “He will, with pressure from his cousin’s husband to the west, William from the south and east and Magnus from the north. He will be squeezed until he releases them. He would be a fool not to. He cannot manage to stave off all of us.”

Cadoc looked to Arian. “My lady? How dost thou fare?”

 

His question was not lost upon her.

 

“She is a virgin still, if that is what you mean,” Stefan said harshly. And as he did, he watched both Cadoc and Sar breathe a sigh of relief.

 

“ ’Tis well, she is,” Sar said. “For my lord Magnus would not take a sullied bride.”

 

Arian coughed beside him, and when Stefan looked down at her, he saw that her cheeks had pinkened considerably. “I take my vows very seriously, Sir Sar. I am a virgin still.”

 

“Be prepared to show proof. As this is a union of great significance and under such— questionable circumstances, my lord will demand an audience of witnesses.”

 

Arian nodded. “I will do whatever my lord asks of me.”

 

Stefan’s hand fisted around the hilt of his sword.

 

“My lady?” Sar ventured. Stefan felt the tightness in his belly, knowing the question that would follow, and he decided he would allow the princess to give the answer she wanted.

 

Arian nodded, and Stefan noticed the flush in her cheeks had flown.

 

“So that I am fully informed, please, tell me of Lord Dag’s demise and your”—he dropped his eyes to the table before he looked to Stefan, then to Arian—“reason for being here.”

Stefan felt Ralph’s interest increase. Arian took a deep breath and slowly began, “As you know, I fell from my horse that day. And since we had been on the road for over a week I desired a bath. While Jane”—Arian’s head snapped back. “What of Jane? Is she well, he did not harm her before he—”

“She is well, and on her way here with the other servants, the carts, and the livestock, my lady,” Cadoc offered.

Arian expelled a long sigh of relief. “Whilst I bathed, Lord Dag approached me. I commanded him to leave. He refused. He was so bold as to touch my person. I broke from him and ran into the wood.” Arian looked up into Stefan’s gaze. “ ’Twas there, I— When Lord Dag further attempted to force himself upon me, Sir Stefan championed my honor. They fought, and Lord Dag lost.”

“Why did you flee?” Cadoc demanded.

 

“Would you, sir, have given me quarter?” Stefan demanded.

 

“I—I would have—” Cadoc stuttered.

“Dag’s man would have slain me where I stood. Besides, I knew then whom I had, and knew how she would be of use to me. My safety aside, ’twas for this exact purpose I fled with your lady. I am willing to return her, intact, for the lives of my brothers.”

Arian’s hands fisted, and he felt the hard tremble of her body beside him. He knew if he looked upon her face he would behold a storm. But ’twas better this way. Fate would see her married to her Viking, and he reunited with his brothers.

Sir Sar shook his head and looked solemnly up at Arian. “I fear, my lady, when milord Magnus learns of his nephew’s death he will be greatly troubled.”

Stefan pounded his fists on the table. “His anger will turn on the knave when he learns what he meant to do. I bear witness: Dag was of the lowest of character and was bent on breaching his uncle’s betrothed for his own gain. If Magnus is a man of honor, he will see the maid had no hand in the events that followed.”

Stefan stood and looked to Cadoc. “Quench your hunger, for once you have, you will ride to your master with word of his daughter and our demands, whilst Gareth rides to Rhiwallon.” He turned to Gareth. “Demand to see that my brothers live before you give Rhiwallon my demands.” Stefan looked to Sar. “You will ride east to Yorkshire with word to Magnus.”

Sir Sar bobbed his head, but looked as if he wished to speak. “Is there something else, sir?” Stefan demanded.

Sar bobbed his head again. “My lord Magnus will not be in Yorkshire for at least another month. ’Tis his cousin Lord Overly of Scarborough who he has asked to receive the lady and see to her welfare until his arrival. I will travel across the sea to my lord with all haste.”

Ralph drew in a sharp breath. Stefan did not look up at him, but asked, “Lord Overly of Scarborough?”

 

“Aye, his Saxon kin by way of my lord’s Saxon mother. Lady Rowena of Covington.”

 

Anger coiled in Stefan’s gut, like a noose on a hanging man. “Does Lord Overly have a lady?”

 

Sar smiled and bobbed his shiny head. “Aye, a most lovely Norman, Lady Lisette. Are you acquainted?”

 

Ralph chuckled. “More than acquainted, eh, Stefan?”

Stefan shot him a glare. “Aye, we have met.” He felt Arian’s sharp stare on him but refused to look at her. Instead, he turned to Tarian, and said, “Send for Father Dudley so that he may scribe the missives.”

“Sir Sar,” Arian said, slipping the knotted gold ring Magnus had given her in Dublin from her left hand and handing it to him. “Give this to my lord Magnus, and assure him I am well.” She slipped a silver bracelet from her right arm with the boar insignia of Dinefwr engraved into it. Reaching across to her captain, she said, “Give this to my father with my wishes of his good health and assure him I await his support.” She inhaled slowly, then exhaled. “Should he still be unwell, assure my brother I await his support.”

And so, only two candle notches later, two companies of men rode west with urgent news while one rode hard east.

When the hall thinned, Arian found herself standing alone in the middle of it. One thought she could not ignore raced in circles around her: Stefan had not used her for his own personal gain. He had used her to save the lives of his men. Some of the sting of her capture left her. But just when she caught herself softening toward him, she remembered the conversation she overheard in his chamber and her heart closed. The emotions drove her mad. She could well understand why some women ran through the village tearing at their hair, screaming for the demons to leave their bodies. She felt much the same. She was at the end of her emotional rope. The only thing she wanted was the normalcy of her life to return. And for that to happen, she required Jane. Her constant. Never had she been so relieved as when she heard her nurse was well.
The lookout shouted from the hall tower. A train approached.

SIXTEEN
The dam of emotions Arian had been holding inside broke the minute her nurse’s familiar loving arms wrapped around her. But their reunion was short-lived.

 

“Lady Arian,” Stefan said curtly, standing on the front step of the hall, “I would have a private word with you.”

 

“I am busy.”

 

He stepped down toward her. Jane trembled in her arms. Arian stiffened at his indifference. “You scare Jane.”