Honor's Splendour

Chapter Twenty

Duncan was the first to catch the scent of danger. He gave the signal to stop. The soldiers lined up behind him. Not a word was spoken, and once the horses had settled down, an eerie silence descended upon the woods.

Baron Gerald was on Duncan 's right. He waited, as did his men, deferring to Duncan 's judgment. Duncan 's reputation was legendary. Gerald had fought by his side in the past. He recognized Duncan 's superior ability, and though they were nearly the same age, Gerald considered himself the student and Duncan his trainer.

When Duncan raised his hand, several soldiers fanned out to scan the area.

"It's quiet, too quiet," Duncan said to Gerald.

Gerald nodded. " 'Tis not the place I would have chosen for a trap, Duncan," he admitted.

"Exactly."

"How do you know? I've seen nothing." Gerald said.

"I feel it," Duncan answered. "They're there, below us, waiting."

A faint whistle sounded from the forest to the left. Duncan immediately turned in his saddle. He motioned to his soldiers to split into sections.

The soldier who'd given the sound rode back to the gathering. "How many?" Duncan asked.

"I couldn't tell, but I spotted several shields."

"Then add that many a hundred times," Gerald said.

"By the bent crossing," the soldier announced. "They hide there, milord."

Duncan nodded. He reached for his sword but Gerald stayed his hand. "Remember, Duncan, if Morcar be one of them…"

"He is yours," Duncan acknowledged. His voice was harsh, controlled.

"As Louddon is yours," Gerald said.

Duncan shook his head. "He won't be there. The bastard hides behind his men or in William's court. Now I have my answer, Gerald. It was a false letter sent by Louddon and not the king. 'Tis the last game of deceit I play with Louddon."

Duncan waited until a third of his contingent had spread in a semi-circle on the western slope. The second third followed the same order, though they fanned in a half circle on the eastern bridge. The last third of their troops waited behind the barons. They were chosen to mount the direct assault.

Gerald was pleased with Duncan 's plan. "We've trapped them inside their own trap," he said proudly.

"And now we close our circle, Gerald. Give the call."

It was an honor he bestowed on his friend. Gerald lifted himself in his saddle, raised his sword into the air, and shouted the battle cry.

The sound echoed throughout the valley. The soldiers who had circled the enemy now began their downward descent.

The net closed. The battle belonged to the fittest; might ruled this day, conquered.

Those cunning men who hid like women behind trees and rocks, waiting to pounce upon their unknowing victims, soon found themselves trapped.

Duncan 's men showed their superiority now. They took command from the outset, fought with valor, and quickly claimed victory.

They took no prisoners.

It wasn't until the battle was nearly finished that Gerald spotted Morcar. Their gazes locked in challenge across the valley. Morcar sneered and then turned to mount his steed. He thought he had adequate time to make his escape.

Gerald's mind snapped. He began to fight like a man possessed, desperate to get to Morcar before he got away. Duncan protected Gerald's back more than once, shouted to his friend to regain control.

Duncan was furious. He was a man who demanded discipline from himself and his soldiers. Yet his equal, Baron Gerald, had cast off all the rules of training. His friend was out of control.

Gerald was beyond hearing any warnings. His eyes were glazed over with fury. Rage, so raw and wild, ruled his mind and body now.

Morcar sat on his mount and watched Gerald struggle to get to him. He wasted precious seconds, but he felt safe enough. Baron Gerald was on foot.

His smirk turned into a bellow of laughter when Gerald stumbled and fell to his knees. Morcar seized the opportunity. He charged his horse down the slope. Leaning to the side of his saddle, he waved his curved sword at Gerald.

Gerald feigned weakness. His head was bowed and he knelt on one knee, waiting for his enemy to come close enough.

Morcar lashed out with his sword just as Gerald jumped to the side.

Gerald used the flat of his own weapon to knock Morcar to the ground.

Morcar fell on his side, rolled onto his back, thinking to regain his weapon and leap to his feet.

He was never given the chance. Gerald's foot trapped his hand. When Morcar looked up, he saw the baron standing over him with the tip of his sword pointed at his neck. When the blade pricked his skin, Morcar squeezed his eyes shut, whimpering in terror.

"Will there be women in hell for you to rape, Morcar?" Gerald asked.

Morcar's eyes flew open. And in those last seconds before he died, he knew Gerald had learned the truth from Adela.

Duncan hadn't witnessed the fight. When the battle was finished, he walked among his own men, gaining numbers of those who had been killed. He saw to his injured as well.

Several hours later, when the sun was fading from the sky, he went looking for Gerald. He found his friend sitting on a boulder. Duncan spoke to Gerald, but didn't receive an answer.

Duncan shook his head. "What the hell's the matter with you?" he demanded. "Where's your sword, Gerald?" he asked, almost as an afterthought.

Gerald finally looked up at Duncan. His eyes were red and swollen. Though Duncan wouldn't ever comment on it, he could tell his friend had been weeping. "Where it belongs," Gerald said. His voice was devoid of emotion and as flat as the expression on his face.

Duncan didn't understand what Gerald was talking about until he found Morcar's body. Gerald's sword was embedded in Morcar's groin.

They made camp up on the ridge above the battleground. Gerald and Duncan ate a meager offering and didn't speak to each other until darkness was upon them.

Gerald used the time to rid himself of his rage.

Duncan used the time to fuel his anger.

When Gerald began to speak, he poured out his anguish. "I've lived a pretense all this time with Adela," Gerald said. "I thought I'd come to terms with all that happened to her. When I vowed to kill Morcar, it was a logical decision. Until I saw him, Duncan. Something broke inside me. The bastard laughed."

"Why do you give me these excuses?" Duncan asked. His voice was soft.

Gerald shook his head. He smiled faintly. "Because I've the feeling you're wanting to run your sword through me," he said.

"You fought like a fool, Gerald. If I hadn't been there, you never would have made it up that hill. You'd be dead now. Your lust for revenge almost destroyed you."

Duncan paused a moment to give Gerald time to think about what he'd just said. His anger over his friend's undisciplined conduct was blown out of proportion. Duncan realized that now. He was infuriated with Gerald because he saw the flaw in his friend's character and now admitted he carried the same mark.

"I have acted the fool. I'll give you no more excuses," Gerald said.

Duncan knew the admission was difficult for his friend to make. "I don't demand excuses. Learn from this, Gerald. I'm no better than you are. I, too, have been ruled by my thirst for revenge. Madelyne was injured in battle because I took her captive. She could have been killed. We have both taken a turn acting the part of a fool."

"Aye, we have," Gerald returned. "Though I'm not about to acknowledge it in front of anyone else but you, Duncan. You tell me you almost lost Madelyne. You would have been denied her magic and never known your loss."

"Her magic?" Duncan smiled over the flowery comment. It wasn't usual for Gerald to speak in such a manner.

"I cannot explain it," Gerald said. He blushed, obviously embarrassed by what he'd said. "She's so untarnished. And though you regret taking her captive now, I'm grateful. She was the only one who could give Adela back to me."

"I've never regretted taking Madelyne. I'm only sorry she was involved in my battle with Louddon."

"Ah, my sweet Adela," Gerald said. "I could have been killed today. Adela would have forever been denied the bliss only I can give her."

Duncan smiled. "It's still undecided in my mind, Gerald, if Adela would have mourned your passing or celebrated your death."

Gerald laughed. "I will tell you something, and if you repeat it, I'll cut your throat. I had to make Adela a promise before she would agree to marry me."

Duncan was highly curious. Gerald was looking embarrassed again.

"I had to vow I wouldn't bed her."

Duncan shook his head. "You feast on punishment, Gerald. Tell me, do you plan to honor your vow?" he asked, trying not to laugh.

"I will," he announced, surprising Duncan.

"You plan to live as a monk in your own home?" Duncan sounded appalled.

"No, but I've learned from you, Duncan."

"What are you talking about?" Duncan asked.

"You told Adela she could live with you for the rest of her days, remember? And then you suggested I move to Wexton fortress and change her mind. It was a clever ploy and I am parroting it."

"I see," Duncan said with a nod.

Gerald laughed. "No, you don't," he said. "I've promised Adela I wouldn't bed her. She, however, can bed me anytime she wishes."

Duncan smiled, understanding at last.

"It will take time," Gerald admitted. "She loves me, but she still doesn't trust me yet. I accept the conditions, for I know she won't be able to resist my charms forever."

Duncan laughed.

"We best get some rest. Do we ride to London tomorrow?" Gerald asked.

"No, we ride to Baron Rhinehold. His fortress is central to my plan."

"And what is your plan?"

"To gather my allies, Gerald. The game is over. I'll send word from Rhinehold's home to the others. If all goes well, we'll gather in London within two weeks, three at the most."

"Do you call up their numbers as well?" Gerald asked, thinking of the huge army Duncan could so easily amass. Though the barons were inclined to fight among themselves, and constantly jostled for a more significant position of power, they all were quite equal in their respect and admiration for Baron Wexton. Each sent their fittest knights to train under Duncan. None were ever turned away.

The barons deferred to Duncan 's judgment. He'd never asked their backing before. Yet none among the bickering group would turn his back on Duncan.

"I don't want their armies at my side, only my equals. I'm not going to challenge our leader, only confront him. There is a difference, Gerald."

"I will stand by your side as well, though I'm sure you know that," Gerald announced.

"Louddon has played his last game of deceit. I don't believe the king knows about Louddon's treachery. I plan to enlighten him, however. He cannot continue to ignore this problem. Justice will be served."

"You'll enlighten our leader in front of the other barons?"

"I will. Every one of them knows about Adela," he said. "They might as well hear the truth."

"Why?" Gerald's face showed his anguish. "Will Adela have to stand before-"

"No, she'll stay at my home. There isn't any need to put her through the ordeal.

Gerald immediately looked relieved. "Then why are you-"

"I'll present the truths to our king, in front of his barons."

"And will our leader act with honor over this issue?" Gerald asked.

"We'll find out soon enough. There are many who believe our king is incapable of that. I'm not one of them." Duncan 's voice was emphatic. "He has always acted with honor toward me, Gerald. I'll not judge him so easily."

Gerald nodded. "Madelyne will have to go with us, won't she?"

"It is necessary," Duncan answered.

Gerald could tell from the look on Duncan 's face that his friend didn't want Madelyne to go to court any more than he wanted Adela to.

"Madelyne will have to recount what has happened. Otherwise it will be Louddon's word against mine."

"Does the outcome depend upon Madelyne then?" Gerald asked. His frown matched Duncan 's.

"Of course not," Duncan answered. "But she has been a pawn in all of this. Louddon and I have both used her. It isn't easy for me to acknowledge that, Gerald."

"You saved her from Louddon's abuse when you took her with you," Gerald pointed out. "Adela told me a little about Madelyne's past."

Duncan nodded. He was weary of conflicts. Now that he'd discovered the joy of loving Madelyne, he wanted to spend every minute with her. He smiled when he realized he was mimicking Madelyne's imaginary hero, Odysseus. She had told him all about the warrior who was forced to endure one challenge after another, for ten long years, before he could return home to his beloved.

It would be another two weeks before he could hold her in his arms again. He sighed once more. He was beginning to act quite pathetic. "At least there will be time before we reach London -"

"Time for what?" Gerald asked.

Duncan hadn't realized he'd spoken his thought aloud until Gerald questioned him. "To marry Madelyne."

Gerald's eyes widened. Duncan turned and walked into the wilderness, leaving Gerald to wonder what in heaven's name he was talking about

Duncan 's home underwent a few subtle changes while he was away. They were necessary precautions, and every one of them because of the baroness.

The courtyard was always deserted in the morning hours now. Though the heat should have beckoned the staff out into the upper bailey to do their daily chores of washing the linens and braiding fresh rushes, everyone preferred to work indoors. They waited until late afternoon to go outside and gain a few minutes of fresh, cooling air.

More specifically, they waited for Madelyne to finish her target practice.

Madelyne was determined to gain accuracy with her new bow and arrows, and toward this end she drove Anthony to distraction. He tutored her, yet couldn't understand why his mistress didn't get any better. Her determination was admirable. Her accuracy, however, was a different story. She was consistently three feet above her target Anthony kept commenting on that fact, but Madelyne didn't seem to be able to correct her aim.

Ned kept Madelyne supplied with new arrows. She'd gone through a good fifty of them before she corrected her aim enough to keep the arrows below the top of the wall. She was then able to retrieve her arrows to use again, arrows that had speared the trees, the huts, and hanging linens.

Anthony was patient with his mistress. He understood her goal. She wanted to learn to protect herself, true, but she also wanted to make her husband proud of her. The vassal wasn't guessing Madelyne's second motive. No, she told him her quest several times a day.

Anthony knew why she repeated herself. His baroness worried he'd get disgusted with her poor performance and stop tutoring her. The vassal wouldn't, of course, deny Madelyne anything.

A messenger from the King of England arrived at Wexton fortress late in the afternoon. Anthony received him in the hall, fully expecting to be given a verbal message. The king's servant handed Anthony a parchment scroll. The vassal called for Maude, directing her to give the soldier food and drink.

Madelyne walked into the room just as the soldier followed Maude into the buttery. She noticed the scroll immediately. "What news is there, Anthony? Does Duncan send us word?" she asked.

"The message comes from the king," Anthony said. He walked over to a small chest located against the wall opposite the buttery. An ornately carved wooden box sat on top of the chest. Madelyne had thought it was merely a decorative piece of work, until Anthony lifted the top and placed the scroll inside.

She was close enough to see other pieces of parchment inside. The box was obviously where Duncan kept his important papers. "You're not going to read it now?" she asked Anthony when he turned back to her.

"It will have to wait until Baron Wexton returns," Anthony announced.

Madelyne could tell from the look on his face that Anthony wasn't pleased about waiting. "I could send for one of the monks at-"

"I would read it for you," Madelyne interjected.

Anthony looked astonished by her remark. Madelyne felt her cheeks heat, knew she blushed. "It's true, I can read, though I would appreciate it, Anthony, if you didn't tell anyone. I've no wish to be the topic of ridicule," she added.

Anthony nodded. " Duncan has been gone over three weeks now," Madelyne reminded him. "And you told me he could be away another month. Do you dare wait that long to fetch a priest to read the message for you?"

"No, of course not," Anthony returned. He opened the box and handed the scroll to Madelyne. Then he leaned on the edge of the table, folded his arms in front of him, and listened to the message from his overlord.

The letter was written in Latin, the preferred language for

It didn't take Madelyne any time at all to translate the message. Her voice never quavered, but her hands trembled when she'd finished reading the missive.

The king gave no greeting to Baron Wexton. His anger was as evident as his breach in manners, Madelyne thought He demanded, from the first word to the last, that Madelyne appear before him.

She wasn't as upset over that command as she was over the announcement that King William was sending his own troops to fetch her.

"So our king sends soldiers to take you," Anthony said when she finished reading. His voice shook.

Anthony was caught in the middle, Madelyne thought. His loyalty belonged to Duncan. Aye, he'd pledged fealty to him. Yet Anthony and Duncan were both vassals to the King of England. William's command would have to take precedence over all others.

"Was there anything else, Madelyne?" Anthony asked.

She slowly nodded. And then she braved a smile for him. "I was hoping you wouldn't ask," she whispered. "It would seem, Anthony, in our king's mind, there are two sisters, two barons. William wants the feud ended, suggesting that perhaps… aye, he uses just that word, perhaps each sister be returned to the rightful brother."

Madelyne's eyes brimmed with tears. "The other alternative is for Duncan to wed me," she whispered.

"The king obviously doesn't know you're already wed," Anthony interjected. His frown intensified, for he knew Madelyne wasn't aware of the fact she really wasn't married to Duncan yet.

"And if Duncan weds me, then Adela will become Louddon's bride."

"God help us," Anthony muttered with disgust.

"Adela mustn't know about this, Anthony," Madelyne rushed out "I will tell her only the king demands my presence."

Anthony nodded. "Can you write as well as read, Madelyne?" he suddenly asked.

When Madelyne nodded, he said, "Then perhaps, if the king hasn't already dispatched his troops, we might gain a little time."

"Time for your husband to return to you," Anthony told her.

The vassal hurried over to the chest, picked up the oblong wooden box, and carried it over to Madelyne. "There is parchment and dye inside," he told Madelyne.

Madelyne sat down and quickly prepared for the task ahead. Anthony turned his back on her. He began to pace while he decided what he'd tell his king.

Madelyne noticed the rolled missive on the table then, next to the jar of flowers. The torn seal was from Roanne monastery. Out of curiousity, she took the time to read the letter from Father Laurance's superiors.

Anthony turned back to Madelyne just as she was finishing the missive. He recognized the seal, knew then the pretense was over. "He didn't want you to worry," Anthony said to Madelyne. He put his hand on her shoulder, offering her comfort.

Madelyne didn't make any comment. She tilted her head up to look at him. Anthony was stunned by the amazing change in his mistress. She looked very serene. He knew then how terrified she really was. Aye, it was the same expression she wore those first few weeks she'd been Duncan 's captive.

He didn't know how to help her. If he tried to explain that Duncan meant to marry her as soon as he returned, he might just make the situation worse. They both knew the baron had lied to Madelyne. "Madelyne, your husband loves you," he said, sorry he couldn't keep the harshness out of his voice.

"He isn't my husband, is he, Anthony?"

She didn't give him time to answer but turned her back on him. "What is it you wish me to say to our king?" she asked. Her voice was mild, almost pleasant.

Anthony admitted defeat. He'd have to leave the explanation to Duncan, he decided. He turned his attention to his dictation.

In the end, it was a simple message, giving only the notification that Baron Wexton hadn't returned to his fortress, and therefore had no knowledge of the king's demand.

Anthony made Madelyne read the message twice. When he was satisfied, she fanned the parchment dry, then oiled the back until it was pliable enough to roll into a scroll.

Anthony gave the message to the king's soldier and commanded him to make haste returning to his king.

Madelyne went to her room to pack her gowns. It was a precaution, for Madelyne knew the king's soldiers could arrive at any moment.

She went and explained to Adela what had happened, using most of the afternoon to visit with her friend. She didn't tell Adela the exact wording of the king's message. Nay, Madelyne deliberately left out any mention about Adela possibly going to Louddon.

Madelyne wouldn't ever let that happen. Nor would she put Duncan in the position of having to choose.

She didn't eat dinner that night but went up to the tower room instead. Madelyne stood in front of the window for over an hour, letting her emotions control her mind.

Laurance really should have been found out sooner. Madelyne blamed herself for being too preoccupied to notice all the little oddities. Then she blamed Duncan. If he hadn't frightened her so much during that wedding ceremony, she'd have caught on to Laurence's deception.

She never considered the possibility that Duncan knew all along. No, she was certain he thought Laurance had truly married them. She was still angry. He had blatantly lied to her about the contents of the letter from the Roanne monastery. Duncan knew how much she valued the truth. She never lied to him. "Just you wait until I get my hands on you," she muttered. "Adela isn't the only one who knows how to scream."

Her burst of anger didn't help her mood much. She started to cry again.

By midnight she had exhausted herself. She leaned against the window. The moon was bright. Madelyne wondered if it was shining down on Duncan now. Did he sleep outdoors tonight or in one of the king's chambers?

Madelyne's attention turned to the crest of the hill outside the wall. A movement had caught her eye, and she looked just in time to see her wolf climb the ridge.

It really was a wolf, wasn't it? Maybe even the same one she'd seen months before. The animal looked large enough.

She wished Duncan were here, standing beside her, so she could prove to him that her wolf did exist. She watched the animal lift the meaty bone she'd left there for him, turn, and disappear down the other side of the hill.

Madelyne was so exhausted, she decided she was getting fanciful again. It was probably just another wild dog after all, and not even the one she'd seen before.

Duncan was her wolf. He loved her. Madelyne never doubted him on that issue. Aye, he lied to her about the letter, yet she instinctively knew he'd never lie to her about his love for her.

It was a comforting admission. Duncan was too honorable to deceive her in such a manner.

She tried to sleep. Fear made it impossible though. How content she'd been to let Duncan take care of the future. She felt so safe because she carried his name. Aye, she was bound to him.

Until today.

Now she was terrified again. The king demanded her attendance in court. She was going back to Louddon.

Madelyne began to pray. She pleaded with God to keep Duncan safe. She asked favor for Adela's future, Gerald's, too, and even prayed for Edmond and Gilard.

And then she whispered a prayer for herself. She begged for courage.

Courage to face the devil.