Chapter Eighteen

T he ride to Llanbadarn Gaerog was long, cold, and grueling. The wind, rain, and endless hours in the saddle were exhausting, but Galiena felt a twinge of pride when she was able to stand on her own accord after dismounting just outside the gates of the walled city. Her legs were shaking, and her fingers were stiff from clutching the reins, and often the mane of the horse, to stay astride. They'd galloped and trotted much of the distance, but she was determined not to be the reason they did not make it to the king and queen by nightfall. Or the reason The Executioner caught up to them— if he was behind them.

She wasn't expecting it when Red wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her off the ground in a quick hug. She looked up at him as he set her down, the broad smile of approval on his face warming her chilled bones. "Three days on a horse and you've mastered it. You can ride with my company of soldiers any time."

She couldn't stop the wide grin that spread across her face or the way her heart swelled from his praise. She was also a bit embarrassed by his accolades and tried to deflect the attention. "It is because of your patience and tolerance that I am here."

"We still have obstacles ahead," Red said, taking Metal's reins. They had stopped on the edge of town where the lane was crowded with villagers, merchants, and soldiers in matching tabards adorned with the king's herald of three golden lions on a background of red. The sun was nearly set, and torches were being lit at the tavern doors. "We will have to wait with the throngs of others wanting an audience with the king, even with Hawk's letter."

"What happens if he won't see us?" It had never occurred to her that they would travel all this way and be refused an opportunity to speak with the king and queen.

"I won't let that happen," Red said with determination, then turned to his soldiers behind him. "Bard, come with us to see the king. Ox, Wolf, and Dane, see if you can find lodging and a place for the horses." The men nodded and horses were handed off. "Stay diligent. He may be here already," he added in a warning voice.

Taking Galiena's hand, Red led her through the gates to the city and into the throngs of people, Bard following closely behind. The castle was visible on the hill at the end of the wide lane that cut through the city straight to the gates of the massive fortress. The structure was daunting, with more fortified walls, a moat, and two massive towers flanking a heavy gate. As they drew closer, she could see the sharp points of a steel portcullis pulled high over the gate opening, which was lined with guards.

"State your business," one of the guards grumbled as they approached.

Red presented the letter from Hawk. "We seek an audience with the king on behalf of Sir Grogan, Lord of Hawkspur."

"No swords on either of you?" the guard asked.

"No swords," Red confirmed. He and Bard had left their swords with the other men, but Galiena suspected that Red still carried the knife in his boot and that Bard was likely equally armed.

The guards looked Red and Bard up and down, then commanded, "Open your cloaks."

Both men did as requested but Galiena stood still, uncertain if she should open her cloak to prove she was not armed. Perhaps they did not think a woman capable of carrying a sword.

"What about her?" another guard asked, tipping his chin in her direction. "How do we know she isn't carrying anything?"

Galiena felt Red tense at her side and saw he was about to speak, but before he could say anything they might all regret, she stepped forward and held up the sides of her cloak. "I am unarmed. No need for concern." As the guard stepped aside to allow them to pass, Galiena could hear a low rumble emitting from Red, as though he were growling at the man.

"Thank you, kind sirs," Bard said in a loud, jovial voice. She was sure he did it to mask his friend's displeasure lest the guards change their minds about letting them pass. When they were through the gates and making their way into the castle yard, Bard said, "You're not helping your reputation as a berserker , Viking. A little more tact would go a long way in convincing people you are not a barbarian."

Red bared his teeth and growled at his friend in response, but Galiena could see the crinkles around his eyes that showed he was not as miffed as he sounded. She smiled at him then, amused by the spectacle of him with his fur cloak over broad shoulders, towering height, flaming red mane, and boisterous voice. He was a frightening warrior to behold, yet all she could see was the protective, kind man who treated her with the same care as a fragile treasure.

"What are you smirking at?" he asked, turning his playful scowl in her direction.

"You," she said. "If I didn't know you, I would think you terrifying."

Red stopped walking to grab her hand and pull her back to him, spinning her so that she faced him. "But you're not afraid of me." It sounded more like a question than a statement.

Galiena looked up at him, surprised to see the question in his expression. He was a formidable force, but it softened her heart to know he had insecurities that required coddling. "No, Red," she said in a soothing tone. "I am not afraid of you."

He smiled at her then with that wickedly handsome, lopsided grin that made her insides swirl.

"Shall I sing a ballad while the two of you swoon over each other?" Bard asked in a sweet voice that did nothing to hide his sarcasm. "Or should we get on with our business? Personally, I'd like to get this over with and go find a hot meal, a strong ale, and a willing woman."

"Bard!" Galiena said with feigned shocked at his bawdy talk. "Do you not have a sweetheart waiting for you at home?"

He gave an overly dramatic and sad shake of his head. "No, dear lady, I do not. But I am holding out hope I will be as lucky as Red and one day a beauty such as you will run into my arms to claim my heart."

Galiena opened her mouth to respond but could not think of what to say. Had she really stolen Red's heart? It hadn't been her intention when she chose him to aid in her escape, but she couldn't deny that she had forced herself into his arms before she even knew who he was, or the kind of man he might be. Now that she did know Red, part of her hoped she had stolen his heart. But the other part of her was afraid of what it would mean to love a man who spent his life wielding a sword, constantly facing death. To love a warrior meant accepting that he may not come home from one of his battles—many did not, and many women were widowed because of it. She'd already been widowed and knew the pain of it too well. Was she willing to endure it again? It would be easier, and safer for her heart, to avoid it altogether.

"Let's go," Red grumbled, pulling her out of her thoughts and back into his side. He led her toward a large stone building with a multitude of people milling around the outside, presumably waiting for an audience with the king and queen.

Galiena was disheartened, fearing they may not be able to get the opportunity to appear in front of the king before the evening was over. Red pushed through the crowd until he found the king's clerk to give him the letter from Hawk. The clerk took the missive, then directed them to stand with the rest of the petitioners in the castle yard.

And then they waited.

And waited.

As the evening grew colder and their stomachs began to growl, Red pulled a few coins from his pouch to give to Bard to fetch food and drink for them, which they ate standing up. The crowd was beginning to disperse, some leaving after having their time in front of the king, others for more interesting pursuits as the sound of musicians performing and the voices of revelers drifted over the castle walls.

After waiting for what felt like hours, the clerk finally summoned Red and Galiena. They were the last to be granted an audience for the evening and the hall was nearly empty except for the king, queen, a handful of guards and clerks, and three men dressed in the fine garb of nobility. The king and queen sat on a raised dais with the noblemen seated to the side of the king.

"Your Graces." Red bowed to the king, the queen, and then the other men of rank sitting in attendance. "Lord Mortimer, Lord Tibetot, My Lord." Galiena followed his lead and curtsied while bowing her head to each man in turn.

"I am Lord Burbek," the third man said with an arrogant sneer. "You are?"

"Viggo Algarssen," Red said stiffly, "of Hawkspur. Sir Grogan is my liege."

Galiena could hear the irritation in Red's voice, but the arrogant lord only nodded and said nothing more.

"Your Grace," Red said, turning his attention back to the king and queen. "May I present Galiena of Oswestry."

Galiena felt like she was going to be sick again. She was trying not to let the sight of the king and queen intimidate her, but she had no experience being in the presence of nobility. She'd never met a lord or lady before Red brought her to Hawkspur Castle, and now she was standing in front of King Edward and Queen Eleanor of England!

Up close, the king was an imposing figure, with his tall stature and regal posture. Even seated, he towered above his wife as he peered down his long, thin nose at the parchment in his hand. Holding it up, he said, "Sir Grogan insisted that we grant you audience posthaste and in private."

Galiena felt her skin prickle as the king lifted his hooded gaze from Sir Grogan's letter to look at her and Red. She found herself staring at the king's eyes, the blue of them startling and the drooping of his left eyelid unsettling. It did not seem possible that a man with King Edward's reputation could have a physical flaw, and Galiena tried not to fixate on it. Instead, she lowered her gaze and tried to peer sidelong at the queen who was regal, serene, and appeared pleasant—just as she remembered from when she'd observed her in the churchyard at Oswestry more than a twelvemonth prior.

"There are few men I give as much credence to as the Lord of Hawkspur," the king continued. "I will assume you have good reason to insist upon seeing us so urgently."

"Aye, I fear we bring worrisome information, perhaps better shared—as my lord Sir Grogan wrote—in private," Red responded, and Galiena lifted her gaze to see the king's response.

"Tell me the nature of this… information …and I will decide." The king's tone sounded bored, but the expression in his eyes showed his sudden alertness.

Red met his gaze with squared shoulders and without showing any intimidation. She felt a flush of pride that a man with his stature and courage was protective of her even in the presence of the king. "We suspect there is a threat to your family."

"Why do you say this?" the king demanded.

"A conversation was overheard, and a missive was intercepted."

"You have this missive?"

Red nodded, but Galiena could sense his unease.

"Lord Mortimer, Lord Tibetot, Lord Burbek," the king said to the noblemen, his attention still focused on Red. "You are dismissed."

The three lords pushed to their feet and stepped down from the dais. All three of the men looked at them with curiosity as they walked by but as Lord Burbek passed by, his gaze lingered, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand at attention. She guessed him to be a man in his forties; he had sandy blond hair, dark eyes, and an arrogant air. She had been in the presence of many wealthy merchants when she was young, but never had she been in the presence of lords—or a king and queen—and she was finding it very unnerving.

After the men had left, leaving only a clerk and some guards lingering in the back of the hall and at the main doors, the king commanded, "Tell me what was heard. And who overheard it."

"Galiena overheard the conversation and was able to obtain the missive."

The king turned his attention to her after Red's statement, and Galiena almost took a step backward, wanting to shrink from his scrutiny. Instead, she dug her fingernails into her palms and steadied herself, not wanting to disappoint or disgrace Red.

"Is that so?" King Edward asked. Galiena thought she detected a slight lisp as the king spoke; the reminder that he was still a man even if anointed by God, calmed her nerves.

"Yes, Your G-grace." Her cheeks flamed in embarrassment at her nervous stutter and the shaking of her voice. But then she felt Red's hand close over hers as he shifted closer to her, and some of her confidence was restored.

That is, until the king dropped his gaze to their joined hands and then pointedly looked into Red's face. He arched one eyebrow but did not say anything more about Red's possessive gesture. When he returned his attention to Galiena, he waved her forward with a large, slender hand. "You may come forward as well, Red, as it does not appear you are going to let her out of your grasp."

Galiena took a deep breath and forced her legs to move despite their shaking beneath her gown, which she now realized was covered with a filthy cloak caked with mud from the road. She felt the heat rising in her cheeks again, embarrassed that she was meeting the king and queen in this state. And just when she thought things couldn't get any worse, the queen spoke.

"Why do you blush, dear girl?" The queen's voice was gentle and not at all mocking.

Galiena looked closer at the queen, astonished to realize that the woman was old enough to be her mother even though she had a babe under one year of age. She was every bit as regal and beautiful as one would expect a queen to be, with chestnut hair, dark eyes, and rosy cheeks.

"I realized the state of my attire, Your Grace," Galiena admitted, not wanting to lie to the woman. "I meant no disrespect and apologize for the filthy state of my cloak, but we did feel it was urgent to come to you straightaway upon arriving."

"And why was that?" Queen Eleanor coaxed in a soothing voice. "What is it that you overheard?"

Galiena thought it much easier to speak to the queen than to King Edward, but what she had to say was not comfortable, and she feared they might think her story a fabrication. Taking a deep breath, she decided it best to just be out with it. "I overheard two men in Oswestry discussing a plot to kill your babe." As Galiena spoke the words, the remembered pain of losing a child overwhelmed her. Tears sprang to her eyes and clogged her throat. She hated to be the one to bring the queen the distressing news that her son's life was at risk, but she was grateful that she'd been given the opportunity, mother to mother, to save the child.

Apart from the smallest gasp, the queen kept her composure. The king leaned forward in his chair, narrowing his eyes at her.

"Who were these men?" King Edward demanded. "What did they say?"

Galiena looked to Red, who nodded almost imperceptibly at her and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. Turning back to the king, she met his intense gaze squarely and told him exactly what she'd overheard and witnessed in the alley and about the missive she took from the hiding place in the wall after it had been stolen from the men by young Tommy Cutpurse.

"One of the men is dead already," Red added before she could explain about being chased from the alley and running into Red's arms in the lane. "The other, we believe is on his way here. If he isn't here already. We fear he may be working with someone within the castle."

"Who killed that first man?" the king asked.

"I believe the second man from the alley," Red said. "Probably once he realized the missive had been stolen." He said no more; he just inclined his head and said, "That's why we're here, sir, and that's why we insisted upon a private audience."

Galiena had expected Red to say more about The Executioner, and the men who followed them into the tavern the night before, but decided he must have good reason for omitting that information.

"Boris," the king said in a louder voice, directing his attention to one of the guards. When the man came to the king's side, Edward said, "Post more guards in the corridor of the nursery. And put two guards in the room with the nursemaid. I want extra guards for the prince at all times, and no one is to enter the nursery other than those approved by the queen until we know what this is about." Turning back to Red and Galiena, the king asked, "Where is the intercepted missive now?"

"I have it," Galiena admitted. "It's coded. As yet we haven't been able to translate what it says." She released Red's hand and then turned to the side as she reached her hand into the neckline of her chemise to reach the sleeve to extract it. She wished she would have thought about transferring it to her pouch for easier access before they had entered the hall. At last, she was able to work the rolled parchment out from its hiding place and present it to the king. She blushed again when she realized the king and queen had both just watched her wriggling like a fidgety child beneath her cloak to get the letter out of the secret pocket above her elbow.

The king unrolled the parchment and studied it for a long moment before handing it to the queen.

"Perhaps Ferrando can decipher this," Queen Eleanor said to the king, handing the parchment back to him. "He is clever as well as scholarly."

"That he is." The king motioned for one of his clerks, and murmured in a low voice, "Fetch the queen's cousin and let him know I request his attention." The clerk nodded and hurried from the hall.

"I trust you have known Galiena for some time and can vouch for her character?" the king asked Red, smoothing a hand over his beard as he studied them.

Galiena felt the blood drain from her face. She could count the number of days on one hand that she and Red had known each other. Would the king discount her story once he realized Red had met Galiena only days before?

"I can vouch for her," Red confirmed, his voice steady.

The king eyed them both intently for several breaths, then tilted his head and asked, "How did you get involved in this matter, Red?"

"I was in Oswestry when the incident happened. She came to me for protection." Galiena felt the tension in Red's grip as he tightened his hold on her hand. "She was fearful the men might have come looking for her or the boy who stole the missive. I escorted her to Hawkspur, then to here."

"And the boy who stole the missive?" the queen asked.

Turning to the queen, Red said, "Hunter is ensuring the safety of the boy."

The king nodded his satisfaction. Looking at Galiena, he asked, "Would you recognize the man you overheard in the alley?"

The king's eyes were an even lighter blue than Red's, but they were far colder when he focused his piercing gaze on her. She couldn't help but shiver in response. But Red's tightened grip on her hand warmed her and gave her the courage she needed to respond without hesitation. "I did not see anything more than the tip of his nose as his face was hidden by a hood, but I believe I would recognize his voice." She hoped that was true. The men had been speaking in harsh whispers and strained voices, which could sound very different than someone's normal speaking voice.

"You will stay in Llanbadarn." It was not a question from the king, but rather, a command.

"Aye," Red agreed. "I have four of Hawk's men with me, and we are at your disposal."

"Stay alert," the king said. "If you see anyone resembling this mysterious man from the alley, tell one of my guards immediately."

Red nodded. "Of course, sir."

"In the meantime, the queen's cousin is a scholarly man with… useful skills," the king said. "I will instruct him to work on deciphering this message. You are dismissed, but I want to see you back here tomorrow afternoon. I will have more questions by then."

Red nodded, then bowed again to the king and queen. Galiena curtseyed, then followed Red's lead of backing away from the dais until they reached the door to exit the hall.

Bard was waiting for them in the castle yard. "Well?" he asked when Red took Galiena's hand and started for the castle gate at a brisk pace.

"Later," Red said, his head turning from side to side as they crossed to the gate. "We can talk when we are away from here."

The hairs on the back of Galiena's neck stood up as Bard searched the castle walls, both men suddenly alert and tense.

"What is it?" Galiena asked Red in a hushed tone as she increased her speed to keep up with his long, determined strides.

"I've got a gnawing in my gut telling me something isn't right."