Authors: Kathryn Le Veque
"Where did she hurt you,
love?" he demanded, his voice hoarse. "Show me."
Coughing and sputtering, Summer
gestured weakly at her arm. "H-H-Here," she swallowed hard,
struggling to control her hysteria. "S-She stabbed my arm!"
Morgan and Tate were beside her,
each man fighting the other for the opportunity to see the wound. Morgan
finally peeled the material away, gently, a smile appearing on his face as he
inspected the injury.
"'Tis a scratch, Lady de
Moray," he said calmly, motioning Tate to locate a measure of linen to
halt the bleeding. "See? She scarcely touched you."
Pale-faced, Summer looked to the
wound with its stream of blood and thought it looked to be far more than a
scratch. It certainly hurt worse than a scratch. But she resisted the desire to
complain as she realized that her husband had been injured much worse. His face
was equally pale as Stephan and Farl inspected his punctured hand closely.
"Y-Your hand, Bose,"
she murmured; even though he was injured and bleeding, still he managed to keep
his right arm wrapped tightly about her. "She injured your hand."
He glanced at the clean puncture
as Stephan accepted a strip of linen from a servant, wrapping the injury
tightly. "Indeed," his voice was faint. Summer continued to observe
him, wide-eyed and shaken, as his gaze found the distorted body several feet
away. "God's Beard, I never... she forced me to do this. For Lora's sake,
I never wanted to harm her no matter what she had done, although at times my
restraint was difficult."
"You were protecting
Summer," Stephan's voice was steady as he wrapped the bloodied appendage.
"You reacted instinctively to a mortal threat by destroying it. You cannot
condemn your natural actions."
Bose sighed heavily; the
occurrences of the day were so staggering that all he wanted to do was leave
this place of agony and betrayal and death. Even if the circumstance had ended
in his favor, still, it had been a costly day both emotionally and physically,
and he was eager to be done with it.
"I realize that," he
exhaled slowly. "But still... it happened so fast. I simply cannot
understand why she would do this; Margot was vicious and mad, but she was never
suicidal. Did she truly believe I would not defend my wife against her
attack?"
Tate returned with the linen for
Summer's arm, confiscated from a jittery house servant. "Mayhap she had
hoped you would not. You've always allowed her to physically demonstrate her
rage without fear of discipline."
Morgan accepted the bandages.
"She is always abused you, Bose, and you've let her simply because you
accepted the abuse as your punishment for Lora's death. Margot was accustomed
to your acceptance of her brutality. God's Blood, had it been me, I would have
done away with the bitch long ago."
"And my acceptance of her
violence led to her own death," Bose's bass voice was hardly audible.
"She accused me of being a murderer. I suppose she was right. I murdered
her
."
Summer winced as Morgan tended
her arm, drawing a sympathetic kiss from her husband. "You did not murder
her, Bose," she whispered, closing her eyes to his lips against her
forehead. "She was trying to k-kill me and you were merely defending your
wife. It was an act of self-defense."
He kissed her again, emitting a
quaking sigh. "God's Beard, I cannot fathom the twists and turns this day
has brought. First Henry's arrival, then Breck's imprisonment, and finally
Margot's attack... I can scarcely believe all of it."
"Believe it," Henry
entered the conversation, having stood by in stunned silence since the event of
Margot's violent endeavor. Looking from the crumpled body of the old woman to
the injured Lord and Lady de Moray, he simply shook his head.
"Had someone relayed this
story to me, I would have accused them of fabrication,” he said what they were
all thinking. “The events are too shocking to comprehend, Bose."
Bose nodded his head faintly.
"Entirely, Your Grace."
He found himself looking to
Margot's body once more, shaking his head with disbelief as he focused on the
brutal woman who had been his first wife's mother. Henry, sensing the knight's
internal conflict, was aware that Bose and his wife required a measure of peace
and quiet to recover their composure.
After a moment, he placed a
comforting hand on the shoulder of the man who had once been his mightiest
warrior. His expression was kind as he focused on the bloodied knight and his
pale-faced lady.
"It's all over with now,” he
said quietly. “We can thank God for the happening of events that have brought
about his ending. I was glad to be of assistance."
Bose nodded faintly, a weak smile
on his lips. "As am I, Your Grace," he said softly, feeling Summer's
warmth against him. Glancing to her lovely, ashen face, his smiled turned
genuine. "Certainly, I have everything I want. No matter if I had to dance
with the Devil to gain my ends, I find that in spite of the trials I had to
face, the results are well worth the effort."
Henry acknowledged his statement
with a vague smile, turning to his hovering advisors and demanding portions of
food and ale to help him recover his wits and strength. As the king moved away
and the observers of the trial, including Lord Bruce, found it necessary to
disburse themselves in light of the final events, Bose turned to those around
him with the utmost wonder and awe.
"It is truly over," he
murmured, watching Artur as the little man moved to Margot's body and kick it
as if to rouse the corpse. "God's Beard, it seems impossible that the
situation is over and we have emerged victorious."
Stephan, with Genisa under his
arm, moved forward and slapped his new brother-in-law on the back. "Indeed
you have," he said, his tone light as the delight of the emerging future
took place. "You have wed my sister and acquired three very protective,
very meddlesome brothers. I would hardly call the acquisition of your wife's
siblings a victory."
Bose smile grew. "At least
you'll not have to come and live with me," glancing toward the edge of the
room where Edward continued to sit in dazed silence, he nodded his head in the
direction of the muddled baron. "What of your father? What will you do
with him?"
Stephan looked to the fat, pallid
man, the warmth in his expression fading. "He is still the baron," he
said quietly. "I could petition Henry to become guardian of the baronetcy,
but for now I believe I'll simply bide my time and see what the future holds.
My father cannot live forever."
Exhausted and nearly ill with the
events of the day, Summer leaned heavily on her equally pummeled husband.
"T-Thank God for that," she murmured, feeling wicked for anticipating
her father's demise. But for all that he had put her through, she could hardly forgive
him. Turning to her husband, she met his gaze. "I wish to go home,
husband. To Ravendark. I have had enough of Chaldon for this day."
Bose smiled faintly. "As you
wish, my lady. I am eager to introduce you to your new residence."
She returned his smile, weary
though it might be. "As I am eager to see it," abruptly, she looked
concerned. "And we must not forget to collect Antony before we go. He'd
never forgive us for leaving him behind a second time."
Bose's eyebrow rose in feigned
horror. "God be merciful. We most certainly must not forget the very beast
that brought us together."
"Even if I plan to share our
bed with him?"
"We've already had this
discussion and I have made my demands quite clear. I have shared one wife with
him but I'll not share the other."
"I-I realize your feelings
on the matter, darling. Now tell me; where would you prefer him, at the head or
at the foot?"
He sighed. "The foot."
Bose's knights were already in
action, moving to quit the hall and intending to prepare for their liege's
departure. Lance and Ian kissed their sister in turn, bidding her a
particularly meaningful farewell with the promise for a future visit to her new
home. Only Stephan lingered, his wife cradled against him, gazing at his sister
as if he were seeing an entirely different woman.
"Are you all right,
sweetheart?" he asked her gently. "With everything that has happened,
are you well?"
Summer removed herself from
Bose's arms long enough to embrace her beloved eldest brother. Aside from
Antony's aid, the man without whose assistance her relationship with Bose could
not have occurred.
"I am f-fine, Stephan,"
she murmured, embracing Genisa tightly before returning to her husband's
massive arms. "Thanks to both of you for your aid and encouragement. Bose
and I are ever grateful."
The sun was nearly set upon the
Dorset coast as the House of du Bonne and the House of de Moray parted company.
As a soft sea wind stirred the cooling night air, the mood settling upon the Dorset
and Wiltshire populace alike was one of hope, of joy, of a positive destiny.
No stronger faith and joy was
felt than within the tight group of the Gorgon and his loyal men. Upon their
arrival to Chaldon less than five days ago, there was not one person among them
that could have predicted the course of the next week. The jaunt to Lance du
Bonne's tournament had been a most successful endeavor for all concerned, and a
most victorious venture for one.
The Gorgon, indeed, had
triumphed.
EPILOGUE
Early
March, Year of Our Lord 1236
"Do we tell him now or wait
until he discovers for himself?"
Tate and Morgan stood at the
entrance to Ravendark's massive keep, eyeing their liege as the man rode in
beneath the raised portcullis. The bailey was awash with activity, man and
servant alike greeting their returned lord from his three day visit to Chaldon
Castle following Edward du Bonne's death. The new Baron Lulworth, Stephan du
Bonne, had been most grateful for his brother-in-law's wisdom and presence in a
time of change.
It was a calming presence that
nearly made up for the absence of the new baron's very pregnant sister. Even
though she had three weeks yet to go, as Stephan’s very own wife had another
two long months, Lady de Moray's husband had forbade her to travel, even to her
father's funeral. In her stead, Bose had attended the mass and mourned as he
properly should. But his heart wasn't supportive of his actions. Simply his
duty, as required of a good husband.
Not that Lady de Moray was
particularly eager to attend her father’s funeral. The past nine months had
seen little progress in mending the father-daughter relationship that had been
so damaged by the episode with Breck Kerry. Summer doubted that she could ever
forgive her father for his treacherous actions. But for the sake of family
harmony, she had tried. She was still trying.
But it was a new life she sought,
a new life far away from her father and the horror of his doings. The memories
of the first few days of her marriage had mercifully faded as Summer rapidly
settled into her new role as Lady de Moray with delight. Bose, too had settled
in to being a husband again, incredibly at peace with his beloved second wife. But
his peace was short-lived; shortly after they had set up house in Ravendark,
Summer announced her pregnancy.
It had been the longest eight months
of Bose's life. His greatest fear had become reality and for the first few
weeks of Summer's pregnancy, he was literally beside himself with panic. He
knew his wife was aware of his terror, a terror that kept him awake at night,
watching her sleep with tears in his eyes. But he kept his apprehension
well-hidden, instead, finding delight in the kicking movements of his child or
lending sympathy to a wife who seemed to cry with the change of the hour. All
of this kept him distracted from the true panic that lay ahead; the birth of
his first child.
A panic his knights refrained
from mentioning because Bose was far more easily disturbed these days and they
struggled to maintain a calm, even atmosphere in his presence. The subject of
childbirth was off-limits in conversation, although it was difficult not to
broach the subject naturally when Lady de Moray began to speak of her plans for
the child.
A child that was apparently
unwilling to wait for his designated time to be born. On this day as Morgan and
Tate watched Bose casually dismount his charcoal steed, they began to nudge
each other encouragingly.
"Go ahead, Morgan. You've
known him longer than any of us. 'Tis your duty to tell him."
Morgan jabbed the younger knight
with his armored elbow. "You can run faster than I can. Tell him quickly
and run for your life."
A bushy red mustache joined the
conversation; Farl strolled up beside the two twitching knights, having been on
the battlements when his lord arrived home. His faded green eyes focused on the
distant warrior. "Well? Morgan, we've agreed that you would tell him.
You'd better do it before some fool inadvertently spills the truth."
Morgan sighed, watching his liege
approach. The closer the man loomed, the more anxious the knights became.