“Ah,” Graelam said, and sat back against the trunk of an oak tree. “We have a surfeit of earls, both so black of soul I doubt the sun will rise fully on the morrow. It's amusing. I suppose we could ransom them for a goodly sum, if there is anyone who cares whether they live or rot.”
“They were both after revenge,” Rolfe said, shaking his head at the wickedness.
“I'll take both of them to Roland. Then my debt to Daria is paid.”
Rolfe grinned over the rim of his goblet. “Don't forget your lady, my lord. She'll ride beside you, proud as a little peahen, for she did catch the Earl of Clare. She now considers her debt paid as well. Did you know that Clare has the reddest hair I've ever seen on a man?” Rolfe shook his head, continuing when his master remained silent, “And neither knows the other is here. Do they know of each other, I wonder?”
“Indeed they do. They're mortal enemies, from what Roland told me.”
“Now, that's interesting. What will Roland de Tournay do with two earls?”
“If he's wise, he'll kill them both. But knowing Roland, I venture to think he'll devise a punishment that will make both of them howl into eternity. He's got a devious mind, Rolfe.”
“Like your wife's, my lord?”
Graelam gave him a sour look. “Aye, just like my damned wife's.” He rose to his feet and stretched. The smell of the sea was sharp tonight and the wind was rising. Dark clouds scuttled across the sky, covering the three-quarter moon, then leaving it to shine brilliantly. Graelam breathed in deeply, bade Rolfe and his other men good night, and strode back to his tent.
His wife was waiting for him, just as he'd ordered her to, only she was quite naked and lying in his narrow cot.
He heard her giggle even as he stripped off his bedrobe.
23
Kassia de Moreton gave her husband a wounded look. “You didn't tell me they knew each other, Graelam.”
“Villains usually do,” Graelam said.
“I wonder what would happen if we simply left them alone together.”
“They'd probably kill each other. Roland told me that there is bone-deep hatred between them. Evidently Damon Le Mark killed Edmond of Clare's brother some years ago. I know not more. Mayhap Roland will tell us what is between them.”
The two earls stood separated by the width of Chantry Hall's inner bailey, each surrounded by both Graelam and Roland's men. As for Roland, he and Daria were staring from Graelam to his small wife, who stood by his side, straight and proud and tousled in her boy's clothes. What was left of her braids was still tucked up under her cap.
Roland shook his head, still looking dazed. “I know no more than that, Graelam.”
Beside him, Daria said, her voice bewildered, “You mean each of you captured one of them to pay back your debt to
me
?” At Kassia's pleased nod, Daria said, “But there is no debt. If I made you think you were ever indebted to me, I should be hung up by my toes and flayedâ”
“Hush, Daria,” Graelam said. “It is done. The two men were here in Cornwall, and each was up to no good. They are evil, and they deserve whatever punishment Roland decides to mete out to them. My wife and I, well, we simply eased matters for your husband here. Nothing more.”
Lady Katherine stood behind her daughter, her eyes on Damon Le Mark. Just seeing him again brought back the pain, the fear. Daria could feel her mother's rigidity. She turned and said quickly, her voice low and soothing, “Mother, nay, don't be frightened of him. Damon can't hurt either of us, ever again. He's bound, Mother. Look at him.”
Katherine heard her daughter's voice as if from afar. “He was coming here to kill you and your husband. Doubt it not, Daria.”
“Of course he was,” Roland said cheerfully. “He failed, Katherine. Do as Daria saysâlook at him. Isn't he a pathetic specimen? A man like him who's been stripped of all his fine power has nothing much left. Power gave him the illusion of substance. Now he's of no importance at all. Believe me, Katherine, and don't fear him ever again.”
Daria was staring at her husband with wonder. She saw her mother draw a very deep breath, and the dreadful gray pallor began to leave her cheeks. She saw Sir Thomas take her hand into his gnarled one and lightly squeeze it. To her delight, her mother turned and smiled up at Sir Thomas.
Roland nodded. “Now, come inside, all of you. Aye, Graelam, bring even that ragged boy there with all the hair. I should like to hear why you appear so bewitched with a skinny lad who hasn't even the years to grow a beard yet.”
“The little lad only appears skinny in these absurd garments,” Graelam said. “Without them, it's a very different lad. And with the proper encouragement, why, it's a lad with much promise.”
“That's quite enough,” Kassia said. “Ho, Daria.”
Daria shook her first in the air. Roland called out, “Come into the hall and tell us how all this comes about.”
“Will I hear counsel to tell me to thrash the little one here?” Graelam asked.
“There are better things to do to a wife,” Roland said. He clasped Daria's fingers more and pulled her close.
Graelam looked at them thoughtfully. It took only his departure to bring the two of them together? He'd been the one standing in the path? It was a lowering thought. He saw that Kassia was also remarking this new closeness with the same surprise.
Once they were seated at a trestle table, goblets of wine in their hands brought by a beaming Gwyn, Kassia said simply, “As I said, we are repaying our debt to you, Daria, nothing more. My husband hunted the Earl of Reymerstone, and I, well, I was fortunate enough to learn that the Earl of Clare was in Cornwall as well. Both wanted to take you. As for Roland, I doubt not they had bloody revenge in mind for him.”
Roland felt the slight tremor go through her body as she said, “I don't want you to think that way. I don't want a reward, because I did nothing more than anyone else would have done.”
Graelam smiled. “Does this mean that you wish us to let the earls go free?”
Daria stared at him, suddenly mute.
“He's got you there, dearling. No, Graelam, and we both thank you, even though we wish you hadn't endangered yourselves.”
“The only danger that will come to my wife is from me. Listen, Daria, you saved my life. As for Kassia here, well, she fancied that my life was also worth something to her.”
Roland laughed. “Whilst I sit on my arse safely within the walls of my castle, the two of you are out capturing treacherous rogues and bringing them to me. For judgment? This will take some thought.”
Graelam nodded. Kassia said, shaking her head, “Nay, Roland, they are here for Daria's judgment. It is her debt we repay.” She turned to smile at her husband. “We do hope, however, that neither of you have any more enemies lurking just beyond the hills. I try to keep my husband safe.”
“I do not. Do you, husband?”
Roland looked thoughtful for a very long time before he finally shook his head. “Any more knaves would be a scruffy lot, unworthy of your attention, Graelam.”
“Good,” Graelam said. “I've a fancy to rot a bit within my castles walls for a while.”
Kassia leaned forward, pulling off her boy's cap as she did so. “Can you tell us more about these two men, Roland?”
“As I told Graelam, Damon Le Mark murdered the Earl of Clare's brother some years ago. Clare never forgot and his hatred grew. That was why he kidnapped Daria. It was his revenge. But then he wanted to take her to wive and he wanted her dowry as well. As the Earl of Clare himself told me, it would have to satisfy him.”
Daria continued. “Damon knew the real reasons for my kidnapping, but he didn't tell Roland. He made up some tale that Roland never believed.”
Katherine said very quietly, “No, he wouldn't tell the truth, even if he had a choice. He didn't even tell me, and that I don't understand at all, for it would have tormented me, and thus afforded him great pleasure.”
Everyone turned to Lady Katherine in surprise. “What do you mean, Mother?”
“I mean that Damon should have told me what had happened. He would have enjoyed my misery. I simply wonder why he chose not to.”
“You knew the Earl of Clare had kidnapped me. You knew he wanted to wed me.”
“No, I didn't know that he wanted to wed you. Damon didn't tell me about that.” She shook her head. She looked pale and very, very sad. Then she smiled, a bittersweet smile that held a good deal of acceptance. “The truth is sometimes difficult, Daria. But now it is your right to know. It is true that Damon Le Mark did indeed murder Edmond of Clare's brother. His name was David and he was young and innocent, as was I, and we fell in love. It was so many years ago. My parents had promised me to Reymerstone's half-brother, Daria, but I didn't want him. I wanted only David. Of course, what a girl wants makes no difference to anything. I was forced to wed James of Fortescue anyway. But before I became his wife, I went to David. It's probable that David is your real father, my love. The Earl of Clare is thus your uncle; Damon found out about this some time ago, possibly from his half-brother, for my husband never believed you were the product of his seed. Damon caught David some five years ago and murdered him. He sent word to his half-brother of what he had done, and my husband rejoiced. He laughed when he told me. Even though they were but half-brothers, you see, they were very close. They were very much alike in many ways save that James was skilled in arms and fighting. He was seen as honorable and brave. But it was his conceit that he held up for all to see as his honor, and most were fooled by it, including you, my daughter.”
There was utter silence in the hall. Sir Thomas coughed.
“If the Earl of Clare had but looked at Daria, he would have seen that her eyes are very nearly identical to his brother David's. But evidently he didn't see any resemblance. His brother never told him about me or about his daughter. David protected both of us, Daria. But of course Damon knew.”
“So that's why my father ignored me, why he never kissed me or petted me or told me he loved me.”
Katherine nodded. “I'm sorry, Daria. Every time he looked at you, he would then turn to me and his hatred made me shrivel. He never struck you. He never hurt you. I told him if he did I would kill him. Not with a knife, but with poisons. He believed me, for he knew I had the recipe for many of your grandmother's potions. But then he was killed and we were at Damon Le Mark's mercy.”
Roland remembered the sad-eyed Katherine when he'd first visited Reymerstone. So Damon had avenged his half-brother by taking his wife to his bed and by murdering her lover. He probably believed it a fitting punishment for her infidelity. It was more punishment than anyone should have to bear. He too found himself wondering why Damon Le Mark hadn't taunted Katherine with the possible marriage between her daughter and her daughter's uncle, the Earl of Clare. Then it occurred to Roland that he hadn't because such knowledge might have gotten back to Colchester, and Damon Le Mark had wanted that marriage more than anything.
Roland turned to his wife. He couldn't bear the anguish here, the years of secret, unspoken pain. He said, his voice light, “What say you, Daria? Do you want their ears chopped off? Shall we make them into eunuchs? Do you want me to run them through?”
“Nay,” she said, shaking her head. She looked at him then, and she was very pale, her eyes bewildered. “I very nearly married my uncle.”
“Yes, but you didn't.”
Katherine said, “I didn't realize that the Earl of Clare could possibly think of wedding Daria, it never came into my mind, else I would have gone mad. I'm sorry, child, truly, but I didn't want you to know the truth and perhaps despise me for it andâ”
Suddenly Daria laughed, deep, raw laughter that was ugly in its pain. It rang out in the great hall and the anguish of it was more than Roland could bear. He shouted, as he grasped her upper arms and shook her, “Daria, stop it.”
But she couldn't. She covered her mouth with her hand but the laughter still came out, muffled and deep and wrenching. She gasped for breath as she choked out the words. “It is too much, Roland, far too much. Don't any of you understand?” Her laughter was dying now but her voice was sharper, more shrill. “Don't you see? My God, if I hadn't lost that babe, if I had birthed the babe, it still could have looked like the Earl of Clare, for he would have been the babe's uncle.” Laughter burst out of her mouth. Roland stared at her.
“Aye, it's true,” she said, her voice now oddly singsong, “and then you would never have believed me, Roland, never. You would have looked at that babe and remarked, âAye, look at all that red hair. The Earl of Clare is the babe's father and I am vindicated in my belief that my wife is a liar.'” Daria broke free, whirled about, and looked one last time at her husband. He was still staring at her, his face very pale, his hands now fisted at his sides.
“There's no winning, Roland, at least not for me. It is over and I have lost.” She turned to Katherine. “You won't berate yourself again, Mother. Now, if it is truly my judgment, then what I wish is this: I want the two of them put together. I want the two of them to fight it out. Each deserves to fight the other. If the Earl of Clare hadn't been a coward, he wouldn't have kidnapped me, he would have met Damon and challenged him as a man of honor should face another man who is his enemy. As for Damon Le Mark, he is despicable. He should have told Roland the truth about my birth, but he kept silent. He cared not what became of me; he cared not if my uncle bedded me. Perhaps he even thought it would be a fine jest on my mother and on the Earl of Clare, but he wouldn't have said anything, not until it had been done.”