Chapter Eleven

CHAPTER ELEVEN

N icholas was on the run.

Christin's four-year-old son bolted about five minutes into the dancing dog performance and Brielle and Max raced after him, mostly because Christin was pregnant and Brielle didn't want her sister exerting herself. Nicholas ran, Max ran, and Brielle went in pursuit.

Nicholas thought it was all great fun.

The child was yelling something about sweets. He smelled something and he wanted to find out where it was so he could have some. There was quite a crowd by this time at the faire, so Max and Brielle were dodging people while Nicholas seemed to have smooth sailing through the cluster of people.

Max was very fast and a determined young lad. He was up ahead of his mother, whom he knew only as a cousin. He called her by her first name like the rest of the family did, but she was close to him and he was close to her. Perhaps there was some inherent mother-son dynamic even if no words were spoken. In any case, Max was very obedient of Brielle and he loved her very much.

And she clearly loved him.

The worst kept secret at Lioncross.

Nicholas had come to a halt next to a man who was selling candied horseradish. The boy was trying to tell the man that he wanted some as Max and Brielle caught up to him. Brielle tried to discourage the boy from something as strange sounding as candied horseradish, but the child began to cry so she gave in. Giving the man a pence from the purse on her belt, she purchased a sack of tiny, thin straws of horseradish that had been boiled and then cooked with honey, which had created a caramelized candy shell. Nicholas dug right into it and chewed with delight while Max and Brielle were a little more careful. But once they bit into it, they had to agree it was marvelous. Spicy-sweet and delicious.

Nicholas didn't want to return to the others so soon. He kept pointing to the tournament field, which was quite close at this point. Brielle was curious, too, so she picked Nicholas up, carrying him and his sticky, horseradish-y fingers over to the edge of the tournament field to take a look. There were mostly marshals out on the field at this point, walking the perimeter while workers were building the lists, or the guide rails that the joust would use.

Directly in front of them, however, was the open area to be used for the mass competition. It was essentially a field next to the river's edge, grassy and perfect. But tomorrow, it would be muddy and covered with fighting men. Nicholas pointed at the field, clearly wanting to take a run at it, but Brielle wouldn't put him down. That only made him frustrated until Max tugged on her arm.

"Brie!" he said, excited. "Look! A knight! A great knight!"

Brielle wasn't particularly interested but she did look over her shoulder in time to see someone being mobbed by well-dressed men and women.

"How do you know he's a great knight?" she asked.

Max kept pointing. "Because everyone wants to talk to him," he said. "See?"

It was true. There was quite an admiring throng around the man, which only happened when competitors were in the midst of the spectators. Brielle had seen that before.

But she wasn't impressed.

"You see knights all of the time," she said. "Greater knights than anyone at this tournament. Grandpapa is one of the greatest knights England has ever seen."

Max was watching the crowd and how excited everyone was for whoever was in the center of the group. "Has he done a joust?"

Brielle smiled. "He has done many," she said. "You should ask him someday and he will tell you. He was the greatest knight to ever compete."

Max was in awe of the man who had essentially raised him. He called Christopher "Grandpapa" because he'd grown up with the man and with all of the children calling him "Grandpapa", he simply called him what the others had and no one had corrected him. He knew his grandpapa was a great knight, but he was more excited by the warrior that was being mobbed.

"Can I see the knight, Brie?" he asked, pointing to the mob. "Please?"

Brielle looked over at the group of frantic women, feeling little patience in Max's request. The crowd thinned out a little and she could see an enormous man with cropped dark hair, wearing a heavy leather cape with a fur collar. She could only see the back of him because he was facing away from her and as she watched, he lifted his hands to the collection of frothing women as if to beg them to leave him alone. They were quite agitated and he kept taking steps back, away from them, but they would follow.

"I do not think you should get close to him, Max," she said after a moment. "Those women seem too eager to see him and you might get trampled. We shall see him, and many others, tomorrow in the mass competition."

Max stood there, disappointed, as the knight kept backing up. He was, in fact, backing up in their direction. With Nicholas on her hip, Brielle took Max's hand and began to pull him with her, back the way they had come.

"Come along," she said, gently tugging. "Let's go back and watch the dancing dogs."

Max sighed unhappily. Women were still buzzing around the knight, but he still wanted to see the man. Maybe even talk to him. These were the knights that little boys dreamed of being, celebrities on the circuit who drew crowds and won big purses. They were famous and adored, and it was all rather exciting. But Brielle tugged on him again and, saddened, he started to go with her when the knight suddenly turned around, heading in their direction. Full frontal, he came into view.

Brielle came to a halt and Max bashed into her hip.

"Sweet Mother of Mercy," she gasped as her entire body seemed to buckle.

Max had no idea why she said that but the knight, too, came to a halt, his eyes wide as he looked at her. Women were buzzing all around him and all he could do was stare at Brielle as if there were no one else in the entire world around him. Not another man, woman, or child existed.

Only Brielle.

Max heard her gasp.

" Cassian? "

Max looked up at her, curious and then concerned when he saw that she looked as if she were about to get sick. She was pale and there were tears filling her eyes. As Max tried to figure out what was wrong, Brielle was trying her damnedest not to faint dead away. An odd buzzing filled her head and she swayed, but Nicholas screamed in her ear, snapping her out of whatever trance was consuming her.

She thought she was dreaming… until he spoke.

"Brie?" he muttered.

That voice.

She knew that voice. God, she'd heard it in her dreams for the past seven years. She'd know Cassian's voice anywhere. But Nicholas was close to pitching a fit, trying to twist in her arms and she lost her grip on him, partially, as he slid down her torso. With her last shreds of cognition, she lifted the boy up again and clutched him against her torso while she gripped Max's hand tightly enough to cut off circulation. Feeling hysterical and overwhelmed, she simply turned away and ran back through the crowd, dragging Max behind her as she fled.

As Cassian watched, the crowd swallowed her up.

*

The day, already, was quickly becoming a mess. After leaving off the escort in a field next to the competitors' encampment, Alexander had gone to the lists with Essien and Addax before heading back into the faire to find his wife and children. Essien and Addax remained behind to speak to the field marshals, but Alexander led an entourage of boys, squires, and men through the faire until he caught sight of Christin's dark head.

She was standing with Brielle, watching the children as they enjoyed a puppet show. Even Nicholas had settled down and was laughing at the puppets who were beating each other with sticks. Alexander watched his older boys run past him to join the fun in the crowd as he walked up on his wife and her sister. The second he caught sight of Brielle's expression, he knew something had happened.

She'd been weeping.

He also noticed that his wife was holding her arm with a death grip.

"Brie?" he said, frowning. "What is wrong?"

"She saw Cassian," Christin said, looking strained and upset. "And he saw her."

Somehow, Alexander wasn't surprised. He was only mildly shocked that a Cassian sighting had happened so soon after their arrival, but he certainly wasn't surprised.

Perhaps it was better this way.

"I see," he said. "I'm sorry, Brie. We did not…"

She cut him off, angry and distraught. "And you did not tell me you had seen him?" she said. "How could you not tell me, Sherry? How could you just bring me here and not forewarn me?"

Alexander could see in that instant that Christin had told her they had knowledge of Cassian's presence heading into the tournament. She was shaken to the bone and he didn't blame her, but he had to remain calm if there was any hope of keeping this situation civil. He focused on her intently.

"Your father thought it would be best if we didn't," he said steadily. "Think on it this way, Brie– if we had told you what we discovered, you would have spent days with angst and distress, building the situation up in your mind and probably going mad with it. So, we thought it would be best for you to see him yourself and let the situation unfold naturally. And now you have. Where did you see him?"

Brielle was trying very hard not to cry again. She'd only just stopped, but Alexander's reasonable words had her distressed. "Near the mass competition field," she said, throwing a snappish hand in that direction. "He was being mobbed by women. So many women! Is that why he never returned to Lioncross? Because one woman wasn't enough for him?"

She was nearly shrieking by the time she was finished and both Christin and Alexander shushed her so she wouldn't attract attention.

"You will have to ask him that now that you've found him," Alexander said quietly.

Brielle's jaw ticked and she yanked away from her sister. "I am going to find him," she said. "I'm going to find him and… and… oh !"

She was so angry that she couldn't quite hold a coherent thought. Her movements were bordering on hysteria. But she no sooner pulled away from Christin than Alexander grabbed her. He was much bigger than Christin was and had a better grip, so once he put his hands on her, she couldn't move.

"Nay, Brie," he said quietly. "Not in anger. That will not solve anything. We do not know why he left, but I am quite certain it had nothing to do with one woman not being sufficient. He loved you very much. It has to be something else."

Brielle could no longer stop the tears. "I have been asking myself for seven years what I did to drive him away," she wept. "What did I do that made him leave me? He left me to suffer a broken life without him and I simply do not understand."

Alexander knew that and he felt badly for her. So very badly. He cupped her face with his big hands and forced her to look at him.

"I want you to listen to me carefully," he said. "Running to the man in anger will not solve anything. It will only make this situation worse. I want you to remain here with Cissy and the children and I will find Cass. I will speak with him and if I do not like what I hear, I will turn your father loose on him. But at least let me hear the man's explanation first. Let me make this easier for you, as much as I can. Will you trust me on this?"

Brielle's entire face was red and crumpled. "He left me," she sobbed. "He did not die in an ambush on his way back to Pelinom. He simply… left me."

Alexander looked beseechingly at his wife, who put her arms around her sister and pulled her out of her husband's grip. "Let Sherry talk to him first," she said. "In your state, all you would do is scream at him and Sherry is right– it would not solve anything. Let him go. Please?"

Brielle was so distraught that she didn't know what she wanted. She was hurt and enraged and confused, a nasty combination. But above the maelstrom of emotions, she understood that Alexander was trying to help her. Perhaps it would be better if he acted as a mediator at this point because, surely, she wasn't going to be any good at confronting Cassian. She wanted to kill him and hug him at the same time. Therefore, she simply nodded her head once, but it was enough.

Alexander headed off.

The crowds were thickening up at this point in the day and the stands were already starting to fill up in anticipation of the coming exhibition, but Alexander didn't pay any attention to that. He was heading for the competitors' camp, wondering if, when he arrived, it would only serve to be told that The Dark Conqueror had packed up and fled. He wouldn't have been astonished by that, but he hoped that wasn't the case. Now that they knew Cassian was here, and Brielle had seen him, he was going to get to the bottom of things before Christopher showed up and ground Cassian into mincemeat.

As he approached the competitors' encampment, he could see Essien and Addax speaking to a few knights, other competitors. They were having a hilarious conversation with them, so it seemed, because they were laughing and joking. But when they saw him coming, they broke away and joined him.

"Where are you going?" Addax asked.

Alexander realized that in his walk over, he'd managed to build up quite a rage. "To find Cassian," he said. "Brielle has seen him. They spoke, though briefly, and she is in tears. I am no longer willing to let this situation lie. It is time for a conversation with the man."

Addax and Essien sobered quickly. "May we come?" Essien asked, sounding both hesitant and a little frustrated. "Cass and I were quite close, once. I would like to come."

Alexander didn't see any harm in it. In fact, it might be a good thing to have men to witness the conversation so there would be no mistaking any meaning or explanation. He nodded and continued walking, flanked by the al-Kort brothers.

They made quite a sight.

The field where the competitors' encampment was spread out to the south of the tournament field, next to Bromley's great cathedral. It was a meadow, with a stream running through it, and there were literally hundreds of tents and shelters, with the smells of both blacksmith and cooking fires heavy in the air. Every tent had colors, however, representing the competitor and, in most cases, his family name. Not knowing where to look, Essien grabbed the nearest man and asked for The Dark Conqueror's tents. The man pointed over near the middle of the encampment to a very big tent that had black and red stripes.

Black and red were de Velt colors.

Now, Alexander knew where he was going, as did Essien and Addax. They headed over to the cluster of tents, which were guarded by several well-armed men. They were on the perimeter, covering the entire scope of the area where the tents were clustered, so only two of them approached Alexander, Essien and Addax as they came close.

"Yer business, m'lord?" one man asked.

He wasn't being impolite, but he wasn't exactly friendly. "I am looking for your lord," he said calmly. "The knight known as The Dark Conqueror?"

The soldiers looked him over. "Who are ye?"

"An old friend," Alexander said, indicating Addax and Essien. "In fact, we are all old friends with your lord."

The soldier shook his head. "He don't have friends, m'lord," he said. "Ye'll have to do better than that."

Alexander smiled thinly. "Is that so?" he said. Then, he raised his voice and given the man could command an army of thousands with ease, he had an incredibly loud voice when he wanted to. "I would suggest you tell your lord to come greet his old friends or we will shout to the world who he is, and what he is, and reveal things from his past he would probably prefer remain hidden. Cassian, do you hear me? Shall I tell everyone who your father is?"

By the time he was finished, the soldiers were looking at him with wide eyes. In fact, men from the neighboring tents were also starting to come around, wondering what all of the shouting was about. The soldiers stood indecisively when the flap snapped back from the largest tent and Cassian stood there, as big and real as the sun. His brow had been furrowed in shock and rage, but when he saw Alexander and Essien and Addax, something in his expression seemed to relax. Settle, even. As if, now, it all made sense and he really wasn't surprised by any of this.

For a moment, he simply stood there and looked at them.

Then, he began to walk towards them.

The soldiers who had been speaking with Alexander looked at Cassian apologetically, but he chased them away. They obeyed quickly, moving off, as Cassian faced three men he had once loved like brothers.

Perhaps he still did.

"I was wondering how long it would take you to find me," he said quietly.

"Not long," Alexander said. "You knew we would."

Cassian nodded, his gaze moving to Essien. "I knew," he said. "I suppose it sounds ridiculous to say that it is good to see you all, but it is."

Alexander's jaw flexed, indicative of the emotion he was trying to keep at bay. "Your sentiment is insulting given the circumstances," he said. "But I will say that I am glad to see that you are not dead. At least we know your body isn't rotting in a swamp somewhere, never to be found. Everyone thinks you are dead, Cassian. Did you know that?"

Cassian simply nodded, hanging his head as if unable to look at the three of them in the eye. In fact, the lack of much reaction from him fueled something irate in Essien.

"What in the hell happened, Cassian?" he demanded. "We thought you were killed! Your family thinks you were killed! Do you have any idea what that did to them so soon after the death of your father? What in the hell happened to you?"

Addax put a hand on his brother's chest to calm him down, but Essien had always been the emotional one. Given the fact that he and Cassian had been quite close, this was painful for him.

"You do not owe us an explanation," Alexander said. "But you do owe Brielle one. You ran out on her."

Cassian sighed heavily. "I did not run out on her."

"Then what do you call it?"

"She is better off without me."

A fist came flying out at him. Essien's fist. Alexander was fast, however, and shoved Cassian back before the fist could make contact. As Addax dragged his brother away, Alexander faced Cassian.

"I came here on behalf of Brielle," he said through clenched teeth, trying very hard to keep his temper. "That woman is in tears right now, distraught because the man she loved, the man she thought was dead, has suddenly reappeared. You'd better have a damned good explanation for this or I will let de Lohr run you into the ground and leave your bones for the birds. Now… for Brielle's sake, would you mind telling me where you have been for the past seven years and why you disappeared in the first place?"

Cassian looked at him, then. "I am not trying to be difficult," he said. "But you were correct when you said I do not owe you an explanation. But I will tell Brielle."

Alexander sighed heavily. "If you try to speak to her now, all you are going to get in return are hysterics and anger," he said. Then he thumped the man in the chest. "Cass, it's me . It's Sherry. You and I were like brothers, once. Talk to me as if I were your brother. Tell me what happened and I swear to you I will not judge you for it, but at least give me something to tell Brielle."

Cassian knew Alexander. He knew the man's heart, the man's soul. He knew that Alexander was one of the most trustworthy, decent men he'd ever known. Truth be told, this moment was far calmer than he imagined it would be with the exception of Essien trying to punch him. But the one thing he realized as he looked at Alexander was that seeing the man again, even seven years later, brought back the pain of his father's death.

His jaw began to tick.

"I do not know if I can," he said hoarsely. "You remind me of everything I ran from, Sherry. You remind me of that world I left behind and I do not know if I am strong enough to face it again."

Alexander could hear the emotion in his voice, but it only served to confuse him. "Face what ?" he hissed. "What did we do that would cause you to disappear and let those who loved you believe you to be dead? What are you punishing us for?"

Cassian could only shake his head. "You did nothing," he said. "No one did anything. It was me, Sherry."

"What did you do?"

With his jaw tense, Cassian simply turned away and headed back into that big tent. He didn't tell Alexander to follow him, but that was exactly what Alexander did. He followed Cassian into a tent that, when he first entered it and saw all of the riches he was taken aback by what he saw. Furs, chests, gold, expensive weapons… it was a veritable treasure trove of things better left to a king or a prince.

His eyes widened.

"Christ," Alexander muttered, looking around. "Is all of this yours?"

Cassian threw himself down on a leather-bound lounge that looked as if it belonged to a Roman emperor. "Aye."

Astonished, Alexander came further into the tent. "It looks like Caligula lives here," he said. "Cass… where did you get all of this?"

"I earned it," Cassian said, laying back on the lounge as if already exhausted by the conversation. "Five years on the tournament circuit has made me a rich man. Does that shock you?"

Alexander tore his eyes off a set of golden chalices set with precious stones that looked like they belonged to a king. He looked at Cassian.

"I don't think anything you do can shock me anymore," he said. "But I want to know what happened. Will you please tell me?"

Cassian turned his head away. "I don't suppose you'll just go away and pretend you did not see me."

"I will not."

Cassian didn't say anything for a moment. He simply kept his head turned, looking at the wall of the tent and thinking that it was easier this way. He couldn't seem to look at Alexander and see the disappointment and judgment in his eyes, no matter how much Alexander said that he wasn't judging him. Of course he was; they all were. He'd been trying not to imagine what Brielle must be thinking of him but he couldn't seem to get her out of his mind. The expression on her face when she realized it was him haunted him.

But what he saw beyond her expression was the child in her arms and the one at her feet.

Beautiful sons.

The realization cut through him like a dagger.

"Brielle has children," he finally said. "I am happy for her. Is her husband good to her?"

Alexander looked at him as if he'd lost his mind. "She doesn't have a husband, you idiot," he said, unable to contain himself. "You are the man she was betrothed to, the only man she has ever loved. Did you truly think she could just go off and marry someone else? You must be mad."

Cassian looked at him in surprise. "But I saw her with two boys," he said. "One was very young and the other was mayhap six or seven years of age."

In that moment, Alexander saw a way to force Cassian into facing what he seemed to have such trouble facing. The Cassian before him was a man he didn't recognize, an enormous warrior who looked like a barbarian. He was rippled with muscles, scarred and rough. Certainly not the young knight who had been so eager to please. Yes, it would be a manipulative move on his part, but he wasn't going to let this go on any longer. He wanted Cassian to talk and he wanted Brielle to stop weeping over the man she'd lost seven years ago.

The one that left her pregnant.

In fact, he could feel himself becoming angrier and angrier as he thought on it.

"Cassian, I want you to listen to me very carefully," he said, fists resting on his hips. "I do not know what kind of game you are playing here, but it stops now. You ran off seven years ago for reasons unknown to us and left a mess in your wake. For a knight who had always been responsible and dedicated, we thought you had been murdered when you'd traveled north to Pelinom. Your mother, who had just lost her husband, thinks she also lost her youngest son. Do you have any idea how devastated your mother was? Chris has been to see that poor woman since then and she is not the same."

Cassian sat up on his lounge, facing Alexander with a mixture of concern and remorse. "You do not understand…"

Alexander cut him off. "You're absolutely correct," he snapped. "I do not understand. I never considered you a coward until now, but what you did was cowardly. You have sullied the de Velt name with unfathomable and ignoble actions. Worse still, you left behind a woman who loved you so much that she cried every day for three years. Every single day. Those of us around Brielle had to watch her die, day by day, minute by minute, because she thought you were dead. You asked me if her husband was good to her? He was not. The man she was betrothed to, the man who was her husband in her heart and soul, treated her like the dirt beneath his feet. He stepped on her and beat her and gutted her and left her alone and bleeding. But the worst thing of all is that he left her pregnant. Three months after you vanished, Brie discovered she was pregnant with your child. That older boy you saw today? That is your son, Cassian."

Cassian turned positively ashen. His eyes widened and his mouth popped open. "Oh… God," he breathed. "She… she what ?"

Alexander couldn't manage to drum up any sympathy for him. "You heard me," he said, his voice tight. "She gave birth to your son. If you do not believe me, just look at his eyes. They are just like yours– brown and green. When I think of you running off and leaving that boy fatherless, I swear to God that I want to kill you, Cassian. What you did to Brielle and what you did to Max is beyond my comprehension. You are, in no way, noble in my eyes or anyone else's. Therefore, I hope you had a very good reason for running away because your actions have cost you everything. It cost you the people who love you the most. It cost you your son. I hope you can live with that."

Cassian was still looking at him with astonishment. He blinked and tears splattered on his cheeks. "Max?"

Alexander nodded, calming somewhat when he saw the genuine emotion on Cassian's face. "Your father's name was Jax," he said. "Brie wanted to honor your father by naming your son Maxim– he goes by Max. Max and Jax, as it were. He is bright and courageous and compassionate. You do not deserve him."

Cassian put his hands on his face, closing his eyes as the tears streamed. He lowered his head, struggling to compose himself as Alexander's words rolled around in his head.

Your son.

He could hardly believe it.

"Sherry," he said hoarsely, his hands coming away from his face. "Will you do something for me?"

"Probably not, but tell me what you want."

"Will you bring Brielle to me?"

"I will not. If you want to see her, you will go to her."

Cassian nodded, taking a deep breath and wiping his face. "I understand," he said. "But I do not want to go into the de Lohr encampment, for obvious reasons. There is a tavern to the east of the castle called The Crown and The Sword. Will you take her there and I will go to her?"

Alexander sighed sharply. "Why?" he said. "If you are just going to demand to see the boy and not tell her where you've been for seven years, I will not do it."

Cassian shook his head. "I will tell her everything, I swear it," he said. "I will not ask to see the boy, at least not right away. Will you please do this, Sherry?"

Alexander wasn't so sure, but if Cassian was going to tell Brielle everything and give her a sense of closure with the situation, then he couldn't in good conscience refuse.

But he wasn't happy about it.

"Very well," he said. "I will try to get her over there in an hour. If you do not show up, know that I will hunt you down, cut your body into pieces, and throw you in the river. Given my background, I believe you know that it is not an idle threat."

Cassian did. Alexander was one of the best assassins the world had ever seen. "I know," he said steadily. "I will be there."

Alexander's dark eyes glittered. "You'd better."

With that, he turned and headed from the tent, leaving Cassian shaken to the bone. Cassian hadn't wanted to face any of this until Alexander mentioned the child.

His son.

Max.

Now, something in him was compelled to face this. If he'd only known about the child before he headed north to Pelinom on that fateful day, he wouldn't have disappeared. He would have paid his respects to his father and returned to Lioncross to marry Brielle no matter what her father said.

The moment Alexander told him about the boy was the moment Cassian stopped running.

Or so he hoped.