The Beast of Renald (The Northern Knights) (8 page)

She tried to get him to drink more of the warm cider. After a few sips, he shook his head no. Exasperated, Caroline’s gaze swept the length of the food laden table for something else that might entice him. She ignored the servants whispering in the corner. Loneliness and fear of the unknown swept over her again.

Last night she’d been a different person. Overwhelmed. The taste of passion, everything new, this castle. His dark fortress. His people.

What had he done with her people that they had brought with them here? 
Kelbie’s sharp whine caught her attention again and Caroline dropped to her knees to enfold him into her arms.

A chill crept up her spine and she turned. 
In the doorway stood her husband’s towering form, his black cloak clasped across his broad chest by a metal brooch with his crest on it. Snow had come for a few flakes clung to and were melting into his dark strands. His startling blue eyes never left her as he strode closer to them. Now she knew the cause of Kelbie’s whine. 
‘Ready yourself. The king is less than an hour away.’ he told her sharply. 
There was no warmth in his tone and Caroline shivered under his look. His eyes swept over her, before briefly looking at the back of Kelbie’s head. She wiped her brow to veil her eyes lest he read the tempestuous emotions she knew blazed in her eyes. She nodded and he exited without a sound. 

Laur was speaking to her and Caroline barely heard the hushed words. She was too upset at the thought of being presented before the king again. 

They were in the solar, Kelbie was seated in the middle of the bed, thumb in his mouth watching both she and Laur with tired eyes. Caroline had stripped down to her thin chemise and stood rubbing the gooseflesh patches from her arms. She had nothing to wear.

Truth be known, she wished she could skip the king’s visit altogether. But she knew that was next to impossible for Darc would not allow it.

With a quick look at the green gown she had been wed in hanging over the partition near the blazing hearth, she sighed heavily and reached out for the garment. She did her best to ignore the odd way Laur watched her, she was embarrassed enough and her cheeks burned with her shame. Though his servants seemed to hug the shadows, they were well aware and watched everything.

Laur walked a semicircle around her, and then grunted before she walked out of the room. Caroline was left perplexed.

She felt another cool draft and looked at the door. He stood there. Caroline let out a sigh and her gaze shot to Kelbie, he said nothing but she could see his little body shaking on the bed. Her gaze swung back to her husband. 

His face was dark and his eyes held hers a moment before sliding down over the rest of her. Caroline shivered under his thorough and assessing gaze. She felt naked although the thin chemise covered her curves. Heat radiated in her and she scratched absently at her neck.

The brief and charged moment was interrupted when Laur reentered with a blue and gold kirtle in hand.

‘’Twill need some adjustments here and there, my lady, but we will have it done.’

 Caroline gave the woman an incredulous look, surprised at the change in her. 

Laur scoffed, ‘Worry not. I will have you looking your best this day for my lord and our king, my lady.’

Caroline knew the old servant did what she did more for her lord than for her. Darc gave her a look and she thought he smiled, but she was seeing things for as she straightened to get a better look, his fierce scowl was back in place.

‘You will have your own clothes replenished after today. The seamstresses have been given the order and Laur will have them here for your fitting on the morrow for all you need.’

Caroline would have given her thank you to him, but he’d turned away. She was already forgotten as he spoke a word to Laur, then turned on his heel and left the chamber.

CHAPTER NINE

William and his royal guards were just approaching the barbican gate when the sound of the crier's trumpet sent servants and the castle folk scurrying to their posts for the king's welcome.

All within the castle had worked long and hard through the wee hours of the morn to ready the place to receive the king under their lord's order.

Darc walked through the castle and down the tower steps just before the lower level and with one last look across to the great hall, he walked down a short hall and stepped out onto the wall-walk. His men stood guard here and as he gazed out over the curtain wall, he spotted the patrols he'd sent forth earlier to guard over the outer perimeters. It was not safe to leave one opening unsecured with the king so near.

Though William had been king for a few years now, many still opposed him and wished him death. Halvard had been proof enough of that. Nevertheless, the king had more than rebellions to worry about. His enemies were many and everywhere. As were Darc's.

The reason he had so few friends outside of the only two he called true friends. One of which he had seen safely back home and saved from the clutches of one of their mutual enemies a few months back.

Darc would protect his liege at all costs. The fealty bond stronger than blood.

His dark expression did not change by the time he made his way out to the inner ward.

The royal guards rode up first, greeted him respectfully and then came William. He rode free of his helm, only his warhorse and royal garments gave way to his imposing figure as their king. One of the many things Darc admired about his liege.

He saw no need to flaunt what he'd taken. The bastard duke that had become king and would become a legend one day Darc suspected.

‘Renald. This place grows vast and plentiful I swear each time I visit.’  William’s voice rang loud in the bailey and all in the yard waited. The king chuckled and the crowd followed suit at his compliment. 

‘Thank you, my liege. The land is indeed fertile.’ Darc cracked a rare smile.

It was a known fact this vast tract had been spared burning during the famine that had been ordered by William. Darc had been only one of the handfuls of lieutenants William had ordered to lead the undefeatable Norman army through here to carry out that order to control the Saxons and he’d been awarded a large part of it for his successful mission.

William removed his leather gauntlets and held them in one hand, adjusting his sword at his side before he gestured over one broad shoulder to a group.

‘Take Halvard’s cousin out back and clean him up,’ the king ordered.

Darc got a glimpse of the top of the man's fair head as he was escorted away. William then turned back to him and clasped him on the shoulder.  ‘My bravest lieutenant second to none but Rufus. A surprise met us on the way here.’ The king's voice dropped to a soft hush and a smile warmed his stern features.

Darc gave his liege a quizzical look. The guards parted and a tall, broad shouldered man with flame colored hair stepped forward. 

‘Well, Darc, seems you do stir up all the excitement these days.’  The light familiar tone was followed by a round of hearty embraces and back slaps.

‘Lord of Richmond. Alan! How good it is to see you. A surprise indeed.’ Darc was thoroughly pleased to see another comrade.

Alan Rufus was another of William’s trusted lieutenant’s living in one of the many cornered Norman castles built under William’s orders. He too had been given large amounts of land and had always been a well-liked acquaintance on the battlefield and on the rare occasions Darc had been at court. Rufus had constructed his Norman fortress as he had near a body of water. Alan’s castle sat overlooking The River Swale.

‘We’re thirsty for some of that fine wine of yours to warm these bones. Come.’  William said jovially.

Once ensconced in one of the larger rooms off to the side of the great hall, the three spoke at length. Darc’s mood changed the moment William brought up his brother.

Raven Renald.

‘He should have died at Senlac. Then this headache he’s become to us all would not have come about. Nevertheless,’ William waved his chalice in his large hand as he sat forward on the cushioned stone bench, ‘what is past is past. I learned early on to adapt and survive. Your brother cannot use the adversity he faced as a child as an excuse. He was afforded the same choices as you and look where you stand.’

‘Aye, my liege.’

‘Worry not. The bastard will not stay hidden long. Too full of himself and his envy. He will barely be able to contain himself. Raven will show himself eventually. Fools like that always do.

‘Forget not the hammering headaches I dealt with in these past two years between Hereward, Malcolm and my very own cousins. Be it brother, uncle or cousin…family…makes them no less than your worst enemy. I know all too well what we hope for but choices belong to the one making them. His crimes are not yours to bear. Carry your brother’s weight no more. Raven’s death is imminent. May the Gods be with you that he meets it at your hands.’

Alan nodded in agreement as Darc pondered deep over William’s words and his eyes narrowed a fraction. His liege ever keen, knew his thoughts.

After all these years, a part of him, Darc had come to realize had believed he was part blame in how his brother had turned out.

Raven had come into the world clawing his way out of their mother’s womb only seconds after him, mouth wide open shrieking like the bird he was so aptly named after.  Their mother had retold the tale over a hundred times during their youth. Many had thought she’d not survive the childbed, but she did.

Death came for her much later. A pang of sorrow lanced Darc’s chest in remembering her unfortunate passing.

He would not leave this world until his brother had paid dearly for the atrocities and path of destruction he’d left behind wherever he set a foot.  

Aye, Raven was a bad seed from the get and there was no fixing him. William’s voice drew Darc’s attention back to him.

‘Come,’ William started. ‘Time we finish the matters here, and then make things official so I can be on my way. I miss my wife.’

‘Hear, hear,’ Alan grinned.

The king made a toast before he quickly launched into other business and a few matters of court.

By the time William had downed his second goblet of wine, he was ready to enter the hall. A hush fell over the hall inhabitants once they reached the center of it. Darc knew without turning that his wife had entered. He turned and all he could do was stare at her.

She looked radiant, like a different woman, despite the shallow pallor of her skin. The only color was the flush of her pink cheeks, which drew even more attention to her unique features. From where he stood he could see how nervous she was. Where was that strength and backbone she’d shown a glimpse of before?

It was still there for she lifted her chin higher and straightened her shoulders back proudly.

The rich blue of the gown brought out her brown hair and made the dark pools of her deep set eyes more alluring. The woman was a distraction.

He grunted and tore his eyes away from her mouth.

All eyes in the room were on her. Her hair had been done and pulled back from her face in a braided crown and a circlet with a matching veil covered it. His former wife’s gown had been tucked, nipped and hugged her curves. 

Laur had performed beautiful magic in a short time. Aye, he would have her in her own clothes rather than go another day seeing her in those witch's garments, even if she did look better them.

God’s teeth! He was noticing too much. Darc felt something move inside him and he found himself growing angrier the longer he stared at her. He’d indulged in too much wine, that was it and he convinced himself that it was so.

Entering the gallery filled with a few royal guards, Caroline felt uneasiness settle in her bones and that feeling followed her into the hall. Once there the room looked so different than it had earlier. All inside, the linen draped trestle tables, right down to the castle servants, were dressed in their best for the king’s visit and there was no sign of that horrendous black cloth except on her husband. Caroline was grateful for the fresh gown and Laur’s quick skills.

The lord’s table had been set right and was filled to bursting with an elaborate feast fit for the king. Entertainment was bountiful, provided by the minstrels on both sides of the large hall and the light dancing of a few people added a distracting ambiance to the loud room. 

More people than she'd believed inhabited the castle now filled the packed hall. Where had they all come from and so quickly? Conversation met her ears from a group of Norman men standing near one table as she stood there taking everything in.

None were yet eating as they had to wait for the king to sit and right now he stood in the center of the room with her husband, his sharp eyes on her. 

Caroline prayed her weak knees held out until they were seated. Her husband's size dwarfed the large king next to him. She felt all eyes on her as Darc stepped away from the king and walked toward her.

He looked like a king himself in his fine tunic, the only color showing on him was the white of his undertunic at his collar. His large body blocked out all around her it seemed. His scabbard on his side, empty, yet a blade tucked in its sheath sat on his right side.

Her nervousness turned to irritation over noticing how handsome he appeared and just as dangerous as the vein near his scar jumped. Straightening her back, she let out a hard breath as he stood in front of her. He offered her his arm and she placed her shaky hand on his muscled forearm. His arm flexed under her touch and a tingle of electricity shot up her arm. Caroline inhaled deeply over the effect of the simple touch. She was not sure what it meant, but it left something warm to flutter in her queasy stomach.

Nor did she realize that she leaned into his frame as she curtsied and greeted the king. The king greeted her sweetly and with the quick pleasantries out of the way, Caroline took William’s extended arm and he escorted her the rest of the way to the lord's table and seated her between himself and Darc.

Her eyes darted around the room. She did not spot Halvard’s cousin amongst the crowd.