Chapter Six

T he great hall came alive in the evenings with knights, ladies, townsmen, and serving women, talking and laughing. Alyce leaned forward slightly to peer down the length of the head table trying to catch a glimpse of Aelwin, Cynwulf's right-hand man. She wondered if he knew what had Cynwulf sending messengers off secretly during the day and acting so strangely. She sighed and leaned back again when all she could see was the back of his head as he spoke with the woman seated to his other side.

She would make herself addlebrained if she continued to speculate about each and every person under the command of her brother, suspicious they were all part of some secret she knew nothing about.

Three rows of tables ran parallel to each other down the length of the hall at right angles to the raised dais where Alyce sat. Hawk's men filled more than half the seats along the table directly in front of where Hawk and the burly Viking sat, at the opposite end of her table. Alyce knew Cynwulf would never be so discourteous as to seat a favored knight of the king at a lower table, but he did have the gall to seat Hawk and his companion on the far end of the table with Alyce, several middling lords and ladies, and the residing priest separating them from the lord of Hawkspur.

"You are unusually quiet tonight, sister."

Cynwulf's words startled Alyce, pulling her from her thoughts. She stabbed her dirk into another piece of eel soaked in a savory sauce as she smiled stiffly at her brother. "There is enough chatter without mine added to the din."

She was finding it difficult to keep her jittering nerves calm, and she did not want to cause a scene with so many others around. If she spoke, she was afraid she might start yelling at Cynwulf in her frustration, like a raging beast ready to pounce. He had managed to avoid her since the king's knight arrived, being in her presence only when surrounded by others. She took a deep breath and reminded herself not to overreact to Cynwulf's evasiveness.

Cynwulf relaxed back in his chair as though nothing was amiss at Hawkspur. "You have that expression you get when you are thinking too hard. What is churning in that head of yours?"

Alyce slowly chewed her food, stalling for time. The dining hall was not the place to discuss delicate situations, but she must talk to her brother soon about what was really on her mind. For the moment, she hedged. "I am just thinking about all that needs to be done. Autumn will be upon us before we know it. I must start preparing the stores for the coming winter."

Cynwulf cocked a questioning eyebrow. "You are concerned we will not have enough to see us through?"

"I have concerns. Let us meet in the morning and I can discuss the progress and the plan with you," Alyce suggested, thinking she had found an excuse to get her brother alone. And then she would make him explain what he'd been doing in the stables.

"Let us discuss it now," Cynwulf responded. "I cannot seem to find a moment to spare during the day."

"Now? Very well. Shall we retire to your solar?" Alyce pushed her chair back, but he grabbed her wrist and motioned for her to stay seated.

"It will be rude if the lord of the castle leaves the table before others have had a chance to finish their meal. We can discuss it here." Cynwulf looked around the room with a half-smile on his lips. "Besides, everyone here is more interested in their drink than talk of harvests."

"I am merely concerned that if we do not plan accordingly, we may find ourselves in a dire situation come winter." She lowered her voice and turned her face away from the main tables. "What happens if we do not have enough men available to work the fields and bring in the crops? Conflict will bring more hardship to the village, yet King Edward seems bent on war with the Prince of Wales." She darted a glance at Cynwulf as she said the last, looking for a reaction.

Her worry of being shorthanded in the fields was real, even if overshadowed by her concern about the secrets Cynwulf kept from her. As the lady of the manor, she'd proved even more adept at inventories and planning than her uncle. Calculating, tallying, and forecasting seemed second nature to her.

"Do I worry overly much? Is all this talk of war exaggerated?" Alyce asked when Cynwulf did not react to her statement of the hardships of war. "We do not want to be caught unaware and unable to sustain Hawkspur through the winter."

"I would venture a guess your worries have more to do with the king's knight sitting at the end of the table than with your duties as chatelaine."

Alyce darted a quick glance to the far end of the table. "Tell me why he is here, Cynwulf. The presence of Sir Grogan and his knights will only serve to unsettle everyone at Hawkspur. Do you think the king really believes someone here is plotting against us to take Hawkspur Castle and give it to the Welsh rebels?"

"Do not concern yourself. Everything will be fine. Sir Grogan will tire of his search when there is nothing to find and leave soon enough," Cynwulf muttered.

"Do you really believe this, Cynwulf? The king does not send his enforcers unannounced without good reason." Alyce eyed her brother carefully, looking for any sign of uneasiness.

Cynwulf stiffened, then patted Alyce's hand. "You need a diversion, sister."

There. He was at it again, changing the topic. Always had he known how to soothe her ruffled feathers through distraction. Not this time. She narrowed her eyes at Cynwulf and demanded, "Tell me now what it is you hide from me."

Cynwulf sighed and brought his cup close to his lips, effectively hiding his mouth while he spoke. "I hide nothing from you, but I will admit the king's men make for additional stress."

"Cynwulf," Alyce chided in a low voice, holding her own cup to hover in front of her face. "None know you better than I, and I know there is more to it than what you say. I heard you in the barn just this morn whispering to someone. Since then I have been imagining conspiracies around every corner."

She reached out her hand to lay it over her brother's where it rested against the arm of his chair. His face remained impassive, but she saw his eyes narrow ever so slightly as his brow furrowed. It was a familiar expression; one he had made since he was a boy. It was the look of guilt mixed with the hope that he could still hide whatever he had done.

"Tell me true," she pleaded in a whisper as she grabbed his hand in both of hers, "is it all a misunderstanding, and I am finding treachery where there is nothing?"

"Not now, not here," Cynwulf said through tight lips, a false smile plastered on his face. He turned his hand to grab hers and relaxed the muscles in his face. "Please, dear sister! Your overactive imagination will gain you nothing but frustration. You need not worry about me; it is I who should be worried about you. You have become obstinate and cannot even begin to see the merits of taking another husband. You are young and beautiful, and any man would be a fool to not want you."

Alyce released her brother's hand and sat back in her chair. She would let him have his way for now, allowing him to change the topic. "You, dear brother, are touting the finer qualities of every eligible bachelor you meet as a potential husband when you know I have no desire to marry. You cannot convince me that a barren widow can make a prized bride no matter my young age. Tell me, why is it so important to you that I take a husband?"

"You cannot possibly be contented with your duties as chatelaine being all you have for the rest of your life," Cynwulf reasoned. "Do you not want something more?"

Alyce hated it when he avoided her questions by asking his own. "I tire of this topic. If this is another one of your attempts to marry me to some aging lord with a brood of children, you had best put it out of your head."

"Luc Montworth has requested to enter formal negotiations for your hand, and he is neither old nor decrepit," Cynwulf chided. "And I know of no brood to his credit. He is also widowed and already has his heir from his first marriage. He has proven himself worthy once more in the eyes of the other lords and I believe his lordship is to be restored soon by the king."

"Montworth may have his own sons already, but he is too boisterous for my taste. If you honestly believe there is anything about him I would find appealing then you do not know me well." Alyce turned to Cynwulf. "Can you tell me in all seriousness you find him to be a likable man?"

Cynwulf gave a small snort of laughter. "In truth, I do not care for him overly much, but he has wealth to provide for you and strength to protect you.'

"I do not need those things. I have Hawkspur and I have you, dear brother. I never want to leave Hawkspur, and I never want to be without you."

"A brother is not the same as a husband. Don't you want someone to grow old with?"

Alice sighed. "I will grow old contentedly as auntie to your children."

"You need a husband, Alyce."

Alyce shot an annoyed glance at her brother. "I had one, and I am through discussing this with you."

"But you are so alone, and time is running out to find a husband and still make a family."

Alyce's eyes widened before she quickly looked away to hide the pain inflicted by his uncharacteristically cruel words.

"I am unable to have a family, Cynwulf. You know this," she said in a hoarse whisper.

"Perhaps with another man and more time, you will prove fertile."

Alyce turned her gaze to her brother again. His sharp blue eyes showed only concern, but he could hurt her more easily than anyone. He loved her enough to push her, for her own good he always claimed, but she was tired of it. Cynwulf's refusal to accept that she was barren was misguided if he thought to help her, and it would be truly unfair of him to betroth her to any man of title, or with a potential for title. Men needed heirs and the duty of a wife was to provide many; she could not fulfill that duty.

"The proof of the truth is in front of us every day," Alyce said evenly.

Cynwulf's head turned to look out over the great hall, and Alyce knew he was looking at the small boy playing with a wooden block by the buttery door as his mother sauntered along the tables filling cups with ale. Alyce need not follow his gaze to see the familiar white-blond hair of the toddler.

Or the green of his eyes.

Or the dimple in his chin.

"Geoffrey was with her one foolish time, and he regretted it for the rest of his days. She may say the child is his, but the likelihood is just as great that he belongs to any one of the men in this hall, including me."

"Your vulgar insinuations may be true, but I care not to hear them." A familiar lump of humiliation caught in Alyce's throat.

"Vulgar or not, I speak the truth. I've sampled her myself. The child could even be mine."

Alyce scrunched her face in disgust. "That may be so, but five years of marriage did not produce a child for me, and one night with her produced a child nine months later with his same green eyes and dimpled chin."

"Other men have green eyes and dimples, and his features look similar to half the men in my regiment." Cynwulf turned to Alyce and gently captured her chin between his thumb and forefinger to make her look at him. "Geoffrey loved you, Alyce, and I know you loved him. You can find contentment again."

The muscles in Alyce's neck went rigid as unbidden anger filled her face with heat. "As what? A mistress? Or a wife to an old man? A barren woman cannot provide an heir and cannot provide a husband with what he needs most. Any man in his prime—including Montworth, who believes making you his brother-in-law will give him the respect he lacks—will tire of me as soon as he realizes I cannot provide him with more heirs and will deem me useless. I will be forced to endure the humiliation of more mistresses bearing my husband's bastards."

"A man can still love his wife while ridding himself of his baser needs elsewhere. You will be hard-pressed to find a man willing to forgo the services of another just because he has wed." Cynwulf tilted his head to the side and gave her a weak smile. "Do as the others do, Alyce, and look the other way. Many women are content and happy in their marriages. It just takes the willingness to be tolerant. A man's indiscretions do not indicate a lack of care for his wife. Men are different creatures from women, with different needs."

"If that is what you truly believe, I pity the woman you marry." Alyce took a deep breath to calm herself. "I tire of this conversation, brother. It seems to be the only topic we discuss these days."

She entwined her hands together tightly on her lap as a hollowness enveloped her chest. She would never be content as a tolerant wife. Once, her love for Geoffrey had felt boundless, and she felt loved in return. She trusted him and felt safe with him…until he betrayed her trust and broke her heart. She knew he had loved her, that he had regretted immensely his indiscretion, and though she could forgive, she could not forget all the promises broken by that one act. She could not go through the humiliation and hurt again. And she could not be as tolerant a wife as Cynwulf described.

"I want more," she whispered, her eyes meeting Cynwulf's. "And I hope you can give the woman you marry more than what you have just described to me."

She rose to her feet, unable to say another word, not even a courteous "good night", as she walked the length of the raised dais and took her leave of the hall.

*

Hawk watched Lady Alyce deep in discussion with her brother, the emotions on her face changing quicker than the sky over a roiling sea with each passing moment. She went from concerned to pleading to frustrated to complacent and back to concerned, then dejected, and finally angry as she rose from her seat and walked briskly across the dais and through the door leading to the spiral staircase and the chambers above.

Hawk wanted to follow her, to offer her—what? Solace? Reassurance? She would not want them from him, and he had no good reason to be the one to offer anything to her. He pushed the lady from his mind and turned his attention back to her brother.

Cynwulf played a dangerous game—whatever that may be—and Hawk did not want to see the gentle woman hurt by her brother's actions. He could not be certain exactly what Cynwulf planned, but he felt in his bones the man was up to something that would not bode well for Hawkspur or his sister.

Hawk determined that Cynwulf was either very daring or very careless. Only a man with incredible cunning or a complete idiot would dare ignore the demands of a king and treat his envoy as nothing more than a nuisance. For that is what the Lord of Hawkspur did when he seated Hawk and Red at the far end of the great table after avoiding him for the entirety of the day. Avoidance was the tactic of a coward and a fool, as far as Hawk was concerned.

He picked up the silver cup of wine before him and took a long, slow drink as he contemplated his next move. His gut told him Cynwulf planned something ominous, and likely traitorous. Now all that remained was to learn what he plotted and who was foolish enough to assist him.

The king had confided in Hawk that Cynwulf and Alyce had the same mother but not the same father, though the old lord Chetwynd raised him as his own blood. The rumor among those close to the family was that Cynwulf's mother had married Lord Chetwynd immediately upon returning from an extended stay in Wales, and Cynwulf was born less than six months later.

Which meant the lord of Hawkspur likely had Welsh blood running through his veins.

Hawk locked eyes on his prey at the other end of the table. Cynwulf sat quietly now, his watchful gaze moving slowly over the people drinking and laughing at the long tables before the dais. He pondered what could possibly make a man of his moderate but comfortable wealth and position get involved in something that would jeopardize his role as lord of Hawkspur. Even if Cynwulf had Welsh blood, he had been raised since a babe by an English family loyal to King Edward. He had inherited a castle from his uncle, who was one of King Edward's most trusted noblemen in the Welsh Marches. His loyalty to his adopted family and the king they served had to run deeper than any affinity he felt for the country of a father he probably did not even know.

Cynwulf did not have to fight for Hawkspur, nor did he have to prove his worth to the king to become lord of Hawkspur. He was given Hawkspur because it was his family's castle. Marcher castle lords were not merely stewards of their castles because of the grace of the king; they owned their castles and could bequeath them to their families as they wished. It would take something as treacherous as an act of treason to lose ownership, and Hawk could not imagine Cynwulf would be so foolish as to jeopardize his family's castle.

If Hawk was lord of a castle such as this, he would do all in his power to keep it. He would use it to train knights to serve the king, thus fulfilling his duty to his king to provide an elite fighting force while having a soft bed to sleep in every night.

He shook his head before his imagination could get carried away with foolish thoughts. Hawkspur was not his, and he was not destined to be lord of anything more than a sword and a steed. He was the bastard son of a nobleman with no hope of gaining either land or fortune of any magnitude. He earned his way from the bite of his blade and not from the comfort of a fortress as a lord with a family at his side.

Best to focus on the task at hand and complete his mission, give the king what he wanted, then leave Hawkspur Castle and the Lady Alyce behind when his work was done.

It should not matter to him what happened to the lady after he left, but an unfamiliar twinge of regret niggled at him. He cringed, thinking of the harm it would cause to her reputation and what her future would look like if he proved her brother a traitor.

For tonight, he would let Cynwulf and his sister dismiss his presence, and on the morrow he would take command of the situation—something he should have done already but he had wanted to watch how the lord of Hawkspur reacted to his arrival. The tactic had paid off since Cynwulf did just as Hawk expected. It had only taken a few short hours for Cynwulf to arrange a covert meeting in the stable and send a messenger out through the postern gate, riding hard for the Welsh border.

The king had warned him Cynwulf was not above suspicion, and guilt had radiated off the man from the moment Hawk set eyes upon him. Cynwulf was also smart and calculating, and Hawk knew better than to underestimate him. Perhaps on the morrow he will have some answers. His best tracker, Hunter, had followed the messenger from Cynwulf's clandestine meeting in the stables earlier in the day with instructions to find out where he went and the names of everyone he spoke to or met along the way.

Cynwulf's loyalty to the king might be in question, but Hawk harbored no doubt that Lady Alyce and her brother were loyal to each other. Despite Lady Alyce leaving the hall earlier in an obvious state of agitation, brother and sister were close. The question was, were they close enough for Cynwulf to confide in Alyce? The woman seemed incapable of doing anything underhanded herself, but that did not mean she was not in her brother's confidence and aware of at least the broad details of his intentions.

"What is the plan?" Red asked in a low voice, interrupting Hawk's thoughts. He followed Hawk's gaze to where it rested on Cynwulf.

"To further ruffle the feathers of Lady Alyce," Hawk replied. "I believe he will protect his sister. Her agitation will add pressure to Cynwulf and propel him into action."

"And you think whatever action he takes will damn him further?"

"Aye, I do."

Finally, Cynwulf turned to look down the length of the table at Hawk. They locked eyes like two stags taking measure of each other, neither willing to be the first to blink or back down.

"He is a man not easily intimidated," Red observed, "and not one likely to act without thought first."

Cynwulf was forced to look away when another man approached him, clapping him jovially on the shoulder to capture his attention.

"I agree," Hawk said thoughtfully. "If it was only him, he would not buckle easily, but I believe he will not want to see his sister in distress."

Red pinched his bushy red eyebrows together and shot a warning glance at Hawk. "What is it you intend to do?"

Hawk turned to face his old friend. "You know I will not harm a woman. I intend to do nothing more than force my company upon her. The lady's nerves seem to be set on edge by my very presence, and the woman is horrible at hiding her thoughts and emotions. If she knows anything, Cynwulf will not want her near me."

"And if she knows naught?"

"Then she will be saved from her brother's fate." He felt a pang of guilt as he thought about what her future would be as the sister of a disgraced lord of the realm. But he could not think about that now.

Red raised his mug to salute Hawk. "To the mission."

"To the mission."

He knocked his cup of wine against Red's mug of ale, sloshing liquid onto the table, then took a large gulp.

"And what of the Lady Alyce?" Red asked.

"Lady Alyce's future will be the king's to decide if this mission ends as I suspect it will, and we will be gone, never to look back."

Red flashed a grin. "I wouldn't wager on that."