Chapter Eleven

V elaria sensed the tension in Savas though he merely inclined his head. He gripped her hand, and answered, ‘I would be glad to meet her.'

‘Rochelle came to help with the birth of Eleanor,' Robert said. ‘I know this will come as a happy surprise to her.'

At the thought of meeting his mother, Velaria was starting to wish she had worn a nicer gown or had a moment to fix her hair. But there was no time at all before they were escorted upstairs into the solar, where a young woman held an infant in her arms and an older woman sat beside them. Both had dark hair, though the older woman's held strands of silver. The moment the matron saw Savas, she rose from her chair and hurried forward.

Joy broke over her expression, and she reached out to frame his face with her hands before she pulled him into a fierce embrace. ‘Morwenna told me you were here.' She drew back and studied him, saying, ‘I am so happy to see you at last, my son. I cannot believe how many years it's been.'

There was a visible change in Savas's expression, as if he'd never expected to meet his mother for the first time. Though he kept a light smile of welcome on his face, Velaria didn't miss the shock and the deeper emotion behind his gaze.

For a moment, she felt rather like an intruder. Though she wanted her husband to enjoy this reunion moment, she was uncertain of her own place. But before she could take another step back, a hand pressed against her shoulder, moving her forward. It was Robert, and he said, ‘Brian has also brought his wife, Velaria of Ardennes, to meet you both.'

‘His wife?' A smile broke over the younger woman's face. ‘Brian, I'm so happy for you both.' She came forward and embraced Velaria with one arm while holding her daughter. ‘I am his sister, Morwenna.' She transferred the infant into Velaria's arms and said, ‘And this is our mother, Lady Rochelle of Banmouth.'

Lady Rochelle smiled. ‘I am very glad to meet you, Velaria. I know of your family, and I believe I met your grandfather a time or two, years ago.'

Velaria murmured her reply, but her attention was caught by the baby, who was now grabbing her hair with her fist.

‘This is your niece, Eleanor,' Morwenna said. ‘She was born only two moons ago.'

A softness crept within Velaria to feel the babe in her arms. The sudden surge of yearning startled her, even though she'd held young children before. For so long, she'd lived one day to the next, simply trying to survive. But now she had a husband and the chance to bear a child of their own. She traced the edge of Eleanor's cheek, marvelling at its softness. Unable to stop herself, she kissed the baby's forehead.

Brian brought her over to sit with the women near the fire. He regarded his mother and said, ‘I need to know everything about you and my father. Please tell me whatever you can.'

Lady Rochelle's expression grew solemn, but she nodded. ‘I had no choice in our union, you must understand. John was a demanding king. He sent my husband, Edmund, off to fight, and then he forced me to share his bed.' She closed her eyes a moment and said, ‘When Morwenna was born, I did not know whether she was Edmund's daughter or John's.'

Velaria saw the concern on Brian's face, but he waited for his mother to continue.

‘My husband allowed me to keep Morwenna for a time. After the king sent for me a second time, there was no doubt that you were John's son. As punishment, my husband forced me to send you and Morwenna away. I was not allowed to keep you, nor was I allowed to tell the king.' She turned away to stare at the fire, her emotions welling up as tears in her eyes. ‘I grieved the loss of both of you, despite everything. You were innocent of my sins.

‘But I am so very grateful to have found both of you again. And now, more than ever.' She turned back to Brian and said, ‘Will you come and visit my estate at Banmouth?' Her expression turned pained, and she simply said, ‘I would like you to meet your younger half brother.'

He reached out and took her hand in his. ‘We would be glad to.'

Brian went to speak with Robert, and Morwenna returned to retrieve her baby. ‘Will you walk with me, Velaria? I'd like to know you better.'

She gave over the infant and agreed. Morwenna murmured to Robert where they were going, and she gave the baby to a nursemaid before they left the solar. At first, the young woman led her down the stairs and back outside.

‘It seems impossible to imagine my little brother being married,' Morwenna said. ‘When was your wedding?'

‘Hardly more than a sennight ago,' Velaria admitted.

‘And he did not invite his own family?' His sister appeared aghast. ‘Why not?'

She hesitated, uncertain of how much Savas wanted to reveal. ‘We married in haste.' To soothe his sister, she added, ‘Yet, I cannot imagine marrying any other man.'

That seemed to pacify Morwenna, but she said, ‘I know my brother. And he appears troubled about something. Did something happen?'

Velaria chose her words carefully. ‘He wants to confront his father, King John.'

‘He shouldn't,' Morwenna advised. ‘John is not a man who cares about us. He only gave Robert command of Dunbough to help subdue the rebellion rising in the north.' She shook her head. ‘It took a long time for him to gain the trust of his men here. They despise King John, but they will fight for Robert.'

Her words only underscored the danger, and Velaria was beginning to think it was better if Savas never confronted John.

They walked inside the inner bailey, where men were training with swords and spears. Velaria averted her gaze, not wanting the memory of fighting to interfere. Even so, she could tell that the soldiers were organised and well trained. A row of shields rested against a wooden platform where their captain was giving them instructions.

‘Tell me how you met my brother,' Morwenna started to say.

But before she could answer, her attention was caught by a blur of motion. Her nephew, Nicholas, broke free from an older woman as he ran towards his mother. Without thinking, Velaria darted forward and caught the child before he could reach the fighters sparring with one another. Out of raw instinct, she seized a shield, and seconds later, a blade embedded in the wood where the boy had been standing.

A cry of horror spilled from Morwenna's lips as she took her son from Velaria's arms. ‘Nicholas, you could have been killed.'

‘Lady Morwenna, it's sorry I am,' the soldier said as he withdrew his blade from the shield. ‘Hamish disarmed me, and I lost my sword. Forgive me, I beg of you.'

But Morwenna only gripped her son in her arms, shaking her head as she clutched the boy and regarded Velaria. ‘You saved my son's life.'

She stood, still holding the shield. For a moment, she almost couldn't believe what had happened. And yet, she was grateful for her fighting instincts that had saved the boy.

Tears flowed down Morwenna's face, and she said, ‘Thank God.' She clutched her child and turned back. ‘I don't know how you reached him so fast, but I will always be grateful. Anything you ever need from us, it will be yours.'

Velaria lowered the shield, but her heart was still pounding. It didn't seem to matter how long it had been since her time in the arena. She could never let go of her fighting instincts. For the last few months, she'd set aside her weapons, trying to blot out the past. But now, she was starting to realise that it would always be a part of her.

And perhaps that was a good thing.

One month later

Brian reached across the bed, but only empty sheets remained. He turned and saw Velaria standing before the window, reaching for her clothes.

‘You're awake early,' he remarked, enjoying the view of her bare skin. He pushed aside the coverlet and came up behind her to kiss her nape. The scent of her skin aroused him instantly, and he wrapped his arms around her.

‘I'm going to train this morning,' she said, reaching for a pair of men's trews. ‘Will you join me?'

Ever since their arrival at Dunbough, she had returned to her fighting, as if it filled an empty place within her. Her body was still lean, but she had regained some of her muscles, and he couldn't help but slide his hand over her firm skin, admiring her. She caught his hand, and her smile turned sensual. In the past few weeks, she'd begun to trust him, and despite all the nights when he'd shared her bed, he could never get enough.

He took her in his arms and nuzzled her neck. ‘I would very much like to join with you.'

Velaria's expression turned soft. ‘That's not what I said.' But she dropped the trews and her hand moved down his naked body in a silent caress.

He gritted his teeth when she explored his skin with her fingertips, her blue eyes holding him captive. He did the same, finding the sensitive skin of her breasts, the dip of her waist, and the firm curve of her backside.

‘I want a child of our own,' she whispered, just as her hand moved to his erection.

‘So do I.'

And although they were still waiting for his audience with the king, and they had to make decisions about where to live—the thought of his wife growing round with a baby brought an ache within him. He wanted to be a father to their child in the way he'd never had a true father.

He moved his hand between her legs and dipped a finger inside her slick heat. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as he aroused her body.

‘Come here,' she whispered. She fitted him to her wet entrance, and he slid home. Velaria's expression transformed with desire, and she raised her leg over his hip. He palmed her bottom and lifted her hip, striding to the wall.

Velaria squeezed him inside as he claimed her body in slow, deep thrusts. By now, he understood what she needed, and he bent to take her nipple in his mouth, suckling her as he entered and withdrew.

‘Savas,' she whispered in a husky voice.

He claimed her mouth in a hard kiss, and she began to move in counterpoint to his thrusts, her body slick with her own arousal. He seized her by the waist and took her against the wall, until he was trembling with the force of his need.

‘Now,' she pleaded. And with her command, he thrust in a swift rhythm, revelling in the way she arched against him, crying out until he spilled himself within her depths. His body was still rigid, even after he'd found his release, and she trembled with aftershocks. But he couldn't move if he'd wanted to.

‘We could stay here,' he suggested. ‘No one would miss us for a few hours.'

She laughed softly and said, ‘I wish we could.' After a slight pause, she added, ‘Uncle Ewan sent word that the king's armies have arrived upon the Hook Peninsula. They're travelling north. Many of the noblemen have joined in a rebellion, and the king has come with thousands of men.'

At that, his smile faded. For even if she didn't want to admit it, the danger had now intensified. Although a messenger could ride faster than an army, it meant that the king's forces were only a day or two away if they'd travelled the same path.

He was torn between wanting to face his father—and wanting to hide Velaria away. During the past few weeks, he'd found contentment with his family. Morwenna had welcomed Velaria as a sister, and Robert had returned to the role of his older brother.

He didn't know if he wanted to confront John any more—especially after Rochelle's story of how he'd been conceived. It sounded as if the monarch was a man who only considered his own needs. But Brian needed to ensure that there was no threat to Velaria after Lord Marwood's death. And that meant an audience was unavoidable.

‘What do you want to do?' he asked as he withdrew from her body and lowered her down.

Velaria drew her arms around him, and he held her close. ‘I know you want to meet your father. Should we go together?'

‘You should stay here, in case the king heard about Lord Marwood's death,' he said. ‘It's safer.'

She didn't argue as she reached for her clothing. But as he studied his wife, he realised that his audience with the king was no longer about trying to build a future by gaining John's acknowledgement. It was about protecting his loved ones at all costs.

For now, he had something to lose.

Three days later

A small group of Robert's soldiers came to watch while Velaria sparred with Brian. Somehow, during the past few months, her aversion to fighting had shifted. Now it was no longer about herself—it was about protecting others. And she found that she was enjoying the training with her husband.

But during the fight, her thoughts drifted towards their future. Savas had mentioned visiting Lord Staunton and his wife after his audience with the king. She agreed with returning to England, and she wanted to live closer to her own family. Especially if one day soon they conceived a child.

Her sword struck his, and they circled one another for a moment. She studied his movements, anticipating his attack. When he raised his blade, she was ready to defend herself, and then she fell into the familiar pattern of parrying his blows and returning with her own strikes.

It was almost like a dance between them, predicting one motion, then the next. But in his eyes, she saw the challenge and warmed to it. Just as he struck again, she leapt out of the way, laughing.

But then their sparring was interrupted by the sudden sound of horses approaching. She turned and saw a group of soldiers at the gates.

Savas kept his sword unsheathed. In a low voice, he said, ‘Go inside the keep.'

Velaria started towards the stairs when the soldiers entered. She overheard Lord Dunbough speaking to the men, but she kept her back to them, trying not to draw attention to herself.

Just as she reached the top of the stairs, a voice called out, ‘That's her.'

‘You are mistaken,' Robert said calmly. ‘If the king wishes to know my loyalty, let him come and speak with me himself. All of us are his faithful subjects.'

Velaria hesitated on the parapets, wondering whether it was better to disappear or risk a glance at her accuser. But when she dared to turn around, she saw him—the witness who had been among those who had attacked Mairead and herself. From his attire, he also appeared to be a nobleman.

A slow smile spread over his face, as if he anticipated justice. ‘I've been tracking her for weeks now. And she will answer for Baron Marwood's death.'

Fear pounded within her, but Velaria forced herself not to run. It would be an admission of guilt, so she stood and faced him.

‘You are wrong,' Robert said smoothly. ‘She is the granddaughter of the Earl of Ardennes and the daughter of Sir Ademar of Dolwyth. She is my sister by marriage.'

‘I watched her kill him,' the witness said. ‘And she will face the king's justice.'

A coldness seemed to encircle her, and Velaria felt frozen inside at the thought of what was to come. She didn't know whether it was better to run or stay and pretend they were wrong.

Savas was already on the stairs, his sword drawn to defend her. ‘You will leave my wife alone.'

‘We have orders to bring her into custody,' another soldier said. ‘She will stand trial before the king.'

Robert motioned for his own soldiers to come forward. ‘She is going nowhere with you.'

‘If you defy the king's orders, then His Excellency will know that you are traitors to the Crown. Your lands and title will be forfeit.'

At that, Velaria realised there was no longer a choice. If she dared to run now, the consequences would fall upon Robert and Morwenna. But if she gave herself up, there was a chance she could seek her own escape later.

Velaria slowly raised her hands in surrender and turned around. When Savas tried to intervene, she shook her head. ‘I will go with them. I won't risk anyone else's lives or Robert and Morwenna's lands until this is sorted out.' To her husband she said, ‘Go and speak with the king. Tell him what happened, and he may show mercy.'

‘I'm not letting them take you.'

He reached out to hold her, and she insisted, ‘Then follow them.' She was trying desperately not to show fear, but her mind was racing.

The men bound her hands in front of her and led her over to a horse. Velaria tried to remain brave and calm while they helped her mount, though she could see the fierce emotions on her husband's face. It was clear that Savas wanted nothing more than to charge forward and attack. But if he did, his own life would be forfeit before he'd ever had the chance to speak to his father.

She tried to shield herself from the fear, but she worried that the others would be harmed.

‘Where is His Grace now?' Savas dared to ask.

‘A few days south of here,' the soldier answered.

Robert's face had gone grave. ‘Then we will join your men and speak directly to the king.'

One of the soldiers shrugged. ‘Come if you wish, but we won't be waiting for you.' With that, they turned and rode out of the gates. Velaria turned back to look at her husband, and Savas was already giving orders for horses.

Although she was terrified of what would happen now, one matter was clear. He would not stop until he had brought her back home again.

They rode for hours without stopping. Brian was grateful for Robert's presence, and they had agreed that they would do nothing to endanger Velaria. He had told him the truth about the attack and how his wife had defended herself.

Yet, he didn't know if it would be enough to save her from the king's anger. Nor did he know whether John would even care who he was. For months now, he'd considered what to say to his father, hoping the man would acknowledge him as his son. And now, all he wanted was to protect his wife. She mattered more than all else.

They made camp nearby, and though he wanted to move closer to the soldiers who had taken Velaria, Robert warned him to stay back. ‘Don't give them an excuse to kill you.'

He knew the man was right, but neither did he want to leave her unprotected. ‘Velaria only defended herself. She shouldn't be in custody at all.'

‘And with any luck, the king will agree,' Robert said.

Brian didn't like the idea of his wife's fate resting upon a king's whims. Not when they could so easily change. He fully intended to rescue Velaria, even if it meant disappearing with her.

‘You need to consider what we can give that King John needs. Loyalty and a strong alliance,' Robert said. ‘Piers is the new Lord of Penrith and Tilmain. He will be glad to grant his support if we ask it of him.'

It had been years since he'd seen Robert's half brother, Piers, but he remembered the man as a strong fighter. ‘I would be glad of any help. We need to send word to Velaria's family and the MacEgans.' Sir Ademar would come, and he believed King Patrick would also send men after what she'd done to save Mairead.

Even as they continued tracking the king's men, it enraged Brian to think of his wife in their hands. His only consolation was that he had a bow and arrows. If any man dared to touch her, it would be the last move he ever made.

Then he turned to Robert and said, ‘I have another plan in mind. But I'll need your help.'

His best friend's expression shifted. ‘I'm listening.'

The journey to the king's encampment lasted several days, but Velaria could hardly remember how many, since the days and nights blended together. No one left her alone for a single moment, and her hands were always bound.

They'd given her a little food and water, but it was barely enough to survive. She suspected they'd done it on purpose, to weaken her and make it impossible to attempt an escape without becoming dizzy.

When they reached the encampment, tents had been hastily set up, as far as she could see. Never in her life had she seen so many soldiers—there must have been thousands. Although there were several hearths outside and wagons of food, it was clear that the king was moving swiftly north. And with so many soldiers, she didn't know if it was possible to slip away without being seen.

The men brought her to be imprisoned with several other captives. Velaria had thought about trying to steal a blade, but it was impossible with her hands bound. They tossed her within an underground pit, and as she struck the bottom, she rolled to keep from being injured. It appeared that the original house had burned, and the area below ground was now being used as a makeshift prison. The top of the pit appeared to be the height of two men.

From the small number of prisoners, she wondered how long they would stay here—or whether the king meant to have them killed quickly. She studied her surroundings and noticed that the other prisoners appeared to be Norman, not Irish. But as the only female prisoner, she didn't know if they were a threat.

It was likely better to feign helplessness than reveal her fighting skills. She lowered her shoulders, and it wasn't hard to conjure up silent tears. All she had to do was think of Savas and the fate that awaited her.

She should have known that the king's men would hunt her after she'd defended herself from the baron. Women were supposed to be meek and subservient, never a threat. But after she'd been touched against her will in Constantinople, she'd sworn it would never happen again. Not to her and not to Mairead.

She could feel the men staring, although she didn't know if they would actually try to harm her. With her head lowered, she let her hair hide her face while she turned back to them. She saw at least four men, but only one seemed curious enough to get closer.

‘What did you do to earn such a punishment, sweet girl?' He spoke in the Norman language, and she pretended not to understand him. Instead, she shrank away, drawing her knees up as he approached.

‘Did the king grow tired of you? Did you refuse him?' he asked in a voice filled with false compassion.

Velaria ignored the man until he took another step forward. Then she stood and faced him down. ‘Leave me alone.'

She was already considering what to do if he made another move—whether to strike him and run to the other side or whether to attempt to climb up from the enclosure. Near the top of the walls, it was only mud, so she doubted if she could get high enough to escape.

But before the man could say another word, another prisoner was shoved down into the enclosure.

He rolled away, and a familiar voice above them said, ‘You'll await the king's justice for what you've done.'

In that moment, Velaria lifted her head to see who had spoken, and she recognised Robert of Dunbough standing above the pit. Her heartbeat quickened, and when she turned back to the new prisoner, there was no doubt of who he was... Savas.

It took everything in her not to run to her husband and embrace him hard. But at least he was here, and she was no longer alone. His very presence soothed her, and when he staggered to his feet, he didn't look at her. Instead, he spoke in the Byzantine tongue, broken words that only they could understand between them.

‘I have a blade. Stay near me,' he said. ‘Robert will go to the king.'

Velaria understood then, that this was his way of guarding her. She didn't speak, didn't let anyone know that she'd understood him. Instead, she huddled in the corner, as if she were utterly unable to defend herself.

This time, the tears upon her cheeks were silent tears of joy. Savas was here, and a flood of grateful emotions poured through her—thankfulness, hope, and an intense love of this man. There was no way to know whether they would escape this enclosure or find a means of gaining the king's favour. But for now, his presence was enough.

They waited for hours until darkness descended, a clouded night where the air smelled of impending rain. Velaria's back ached, but she didn't dare move. Only the flickering light of torches illuminated the space. Savas sat in front of her in silent defence, and it took an effort not to embrace him. She remained behind him, and only after the other prisoners fell asleep did she reach out in the darkness. She held his hand, stroking his palm with her thumb.

‘I'm glad you're here,' she whispered, as softly as she dared.

‘I will always come for you,' he answered, squeezing her hand. ‘No matter what happens.'

And she inwardly vowed that somehow, they would find a way to free themselves.