Chapter Thirteen

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

T hey were known as Executioner Knights.

Roi recognized them as they trotted up the road, heading for Lioncross' enormous gatehouse. There were three of them, traveling alone, but with men such as that, it was perfectly safe. They were perfectly capable of defending themselves against terrible odds. They could have probably taken on an entire army and emerged the victors.

Men who achieved the position of Executioner Knight did not do it because they were weak.

It was because they were the best.

In truth, these men were second-generation Executioner Knights. Their fathers had been some of the first men that William Marshal, Earl of Pembroke and the man known as England's greatest knight, recruited when he formed a circle of spies, assassins, and warriors that comprised the most elite group in all of England. Marshal used the men to keep England balanced.

They shadowed kings, killed enemies, fought off invasions—anything to keep their country strong. Their dedication was to the country above all, but they'd come into being during the time of King Richard but wholly during the reign of King John. After John's demise and the ascension of Henry III, they continued their duties even after William Marshal passed away. They were subsequently commanded by Marshal sons, and were now under the command of Anselm Marshal, a man who was in poor health and the last of his family. Rumor had it that command of the Executioner Knights would fall to Christopher de Lohr, one of the most respected men in all of England.

And a man who had been an Executioner Knight for more than sixty years.

Christopher had mostly been a warlord, though he'd worked closely with William Marshal as the man manipulated the politics and players of England. Peter, Christopher's son, had been a great Executioner Knight, now mostly retired due to his age, while Christin's husband, Sherry, and even Christin herself had been spies during their younger years. Truth be told, Roi had been involved with them in his younger years as well, as had Curtis. Douglas and Westley had avoided the service because Christopher had other duties for them, but Myles de Lohr—the great middle brother—was a fully fledged Executioner Knight, and the main reason he wasn't at the wedding was because he was off on a mission.

Wherever there was need in England, the Executioner Knights—and the de Lohrs—answered the call.

These days, the sons of the original Executioner Knights were taking charge, and the three knights now taking a turn off the road and heading in their direction were the offspring of two of the original knights. Roi recognized Magnus of Loxbeare, his brother Aeron of Loxbeare, and Tiegh de Dere. Breaking away from the group of men organizing the next game, he waved them over.

Tiegh was the first man off his horse, grinning as he embraced Roi. He was tall and sinewy, with his mother's blond hair and his father's features. Tiegh was a likeable man, much like his father had been, amiable in every way but also deadly in every way. Next to him, Aeron reined his horse around and bailed off, moving to embrace Roi and congratulate him. He, too, was the congenial sort. But the last man to relay his greeting was Magnus, who was like his father in every way—surly, bad tempered, not particularly fun to be around, but a more professional and dedicated knight had never existed.

And he particularly liked Roi.

"Roi," Magnus said with satisfaction, reaching out to grasp him with both hands. "My deepest condolences on your son. Please know how heartbroken my entire family is on his passing."

Roi forced a smile. "Thank you," he said. "It has been difficult, of course, but for today, I have put my mourning aside. My mother says that Beckett would be happy that I have remarried, so I am focusing on the good. And today is very good."

Magnus grinned. "Is it?" he said. "Good. Then please accept my heartiest congratulations, old man. My father sends his regrets that he was unable to attend. He has sent us instead."

"I am sorry he was unable to come," Roi said. "I hope he is not in ill health?"

Magnus and Aeron passed glances. "He's not well," Magnus finally said. "In fact, he sent me with a message for your father. Where is he?"

Roi pointed back to the collection of men several feet away. "Over there," he said. "Shall I fetch him?"

Magnus shook his head, his dark eyes seeking out Christopher amongst the crowd. "Nay," he said. "I will find him."

Roi put his hand on the man's arm as he started to walk toward the group. "I am sorry for your father, Magnus," he said, looking to Aeron. "I am sorry for both of you. Maxton of Loxbeare is a great man. That is how I will always remember him and men like him, no matter how old they become or how failing their health. They will always be those men I grew up admiring."

Aeron smiled weakly. "He always liked you a great deal," he said. "Truthfully, he wanted to come very much, but my mother would not let him."

Roi understood that. He understood aging parents and the dynamics of such things. "May I ask what is wrong with Maxton?" he said. "Is it something to be cured?"

Aeron shook his head. "Nay," he said quietly. "Apoplexy. A few months ago, he awoke one morning and could not move one side of his body. The physics tell us that he will not improve. It is simply a matter of time until… Suffice it to say he will not improve."

Roi sighed sadly, putting his hand over his heart in a show of grief for the health of Maxton of Loxbeare. "I do not think my father knows," he said. "He's not said a word to me about it."

"He does not know," Magnus said. "No one really does. My mother did not want anyone to know, but my father is growing worse, so she has given me permission to tell your father. As I said, I come with a message for him."

Roi swept his arm in the direction of the group of men, and both Magnus and Aeron continued on to find Christopher. That left Roi standing with Tiegh, and he looked at the man, distress on his features.

"Please tell me that your father and mother are faring better," he said.

Tiegh nodded. "My father is in good health, thank you," he said. "My mother also. They spend their time with their grandchildren these days. My sisters have fifteen children between them, so the keep is full of screaming children. My father also wanted to come when he received the missive from your father about your marriage, but traveling is difficult for him these days. He is old, Roi. I volunteered to come instead because I wanted to see you and meet your new wife."

Roi smiled weakly. "And you shall meet her," he said. "I will go with you to take the horses over to the stables because she is in the keep with her parents. Her father is the Earl of Cheltenham, you know. She is the heiress, which means someday, the title will be mine."

He meant to boast because Tiegh was one of those people who boasted about anything and everything, so Roi wanted to gain the upper hand. But there was humor to it, especially when Tiegh appeared absolutely appalled at the prospect.

"To the devil with you, de Lohr," he scoffed. "I shall never bow down to you, even if you are an earl."

Roi chuckled. "Careful, lad," he said. "I may have to flog you in public for that."

"You will have to catch me first."

Laughing, they took the horses, including the two left behind by Magnus and Aeron, and headed across the road. There were soldiers at the gatehouse to take the animals for them, but Roi continued inside with Tiegh, crossing the bailey just as Diara and Robin were coming from the entry.

"Ah," Roi said as they met the pair at the bottom of the stairs. "Lady de Lohr, this is my dear friend, Tiegh de Dere. He has just arrived at my father's summons. Tiegh, this is my wife and her father, Lord Cheltenham."

Tiegh greeted Robin first, as was protocol. "My lord," he said to Robin, then dipped his head to Diara. "Lady de Lohr. It is a pleasure to meet you both. My parents send their regrets for not having attended the wedding, but they also send their warmest felicitations."

Diara came off the steps, taking Roi's arm. "Thank you, Sir Tiegh," she said. "From where do you hail?"

"Berkshire, my lady," Tiegh said. "I was born there."

"That is lovely country," Diara said. "I traveled through there once when I was a child. Remember, Papa?"

She turned to her father, who nodded. "I do, indeed," he said. "We stayed at a hunting lodge belonging to Lord Marlborough before continuing on to London. Who are your parents, Sir Tiegh?"

"My father is Sir Achilles de Dere, Lord Caversham," Tiegh said. "My mother is the former Susanna de Tiegh of Aysgarth Castle."

"That is in the north," Robin said. "Have you spent much time there?"

Tiegh nodded. "Enough, my lord," he said. "Though it has been a while."

"Do you hunt?"

"Indeed I do, my lord."

"Do you like games?"

Tiegh cocked his head curiously. "Games, my lord?"

Robin came off the steps, indicating the gatehouse. "Come with me," he said. "There are games to be had in the field across the way. Tell me of the hunting you have done at Aysgarth. Mayhap I should take a trip to the north if it is good."

They walked away, speaking of hunting and travel. Robin was shockingly friendly with a simple knight. Roi and Diara watched them go for a moment before Roi moved to follow with Diara on his arm. But she wasn't moving, and he came to a halt, looking at her.

"Coming, my love?" he asked. "Two other friends have arrived along with Tiegh, so the coming game should be quite interesting."

Diara nodded, but her focus was on her father. "I will come," she said. "But… my father…"

Roi turned to watch Robin crossing the bailey with Tiegh. "What about him?"

Diara shook her head. "I wish I knew," she said, clearly puzzled. "I found him in your father's solar, Roi. I think… I think he was looking through your father's things. When I came in, I startled him, and he was not pleased with me."

Roi's brow furrowed. "Why should he want to go through my father's things?"

"I do not know," Diara said. "I do not know what he could hope to find. I do not think he stole anything, but he was definitely looking at your father's documents when I arrived. He said he was looking for maps, but something tells me that he was simply being curious about things that did not concern him."

Roi tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow, gently encouraging her to follow him. "I cannot imagine why he would do such a thing," he said. "I do not think my father has anything secretive or personal sitting out for all to see, but your father still should not have been rooting through his desk."

"He asked me if I was going to tell your father."

"Are you?"

"Nay," she said. "I told you. You can tell your father."

"If you think I should."

Diara sighed. "I'm not sure why I feel uncomfortable about it, but I feel that my father has not forgiven us for not marrying when he wanted us to marry," she said. "He can hold a grudge. I have seen it."

Roi shrugged. "Let him," he said. "I have what I want and there is nothing he can do about it, so if he intends to be petty, let him. I do not care."

Diara didn't say anything more, but she wasn't so sure that was a good thing. She knew her father and she knew he could be devious when the mood struck him. Devious about what, she didn't know, but perhaps she was simply being paranoid, since her last interaction with him at Cicadia saw her disobey the man. Not only disobey him, but lie to him as well.

Perhaps his behavior was just her overactive imagination.

Forcing thoughts of her father aside and smiling at her handsome husband, she held on to him tightly as they headed back to the field.

*

It was a strange, new world for Mathis.

He and Pryce had backed away from the group of de Lohr men, who were arguing about what game to proceed with next. In fact, they went to sit on the grass at the edge of the field. Pryce ended up lying down and dozing in the sun, while Mathis sat there and watched the happenings on the field and beyond. He could see the guests and women on the other side of the field, gathered together in conversation, waiting for the next game to begin. Because of the short time frame of the wedding, and the funeral that preceded it, not many people had been given the time to attend, but there were enough.

Bored by the view of the family and guests, and wishing he was anywhere but at Diara's wedding celebration, Mathis lay down and closed his eyes. When next he realized, a soft voice roused him.

"My lord?"

It took him a moment to realize he'd heard those words several times. At first, he thought he'd been dreaming them, but when he opened his eyes, a lovely young woman with dark eyes and dark hair was standing a few feet away with a basket in her hand.

He sat bolt upright.

"My lady?" he said, rolling to his knees. "How may I be of service?"

The young woman was dressed in blue, her long hair blowing gently in the breeze. She was also quite flushed, looking at him as if he had somehow startled her. She suddenly thrust the basket at him.

"I brought these for you, my lord," she said.

He looked at her curiously. "Me?" he said. Then he looked around as if making sure there was no one else she could have possibly meant. "Just… me?"

She nodded. "For you," she said. "I have been told you like sweets, and I made these myself."

Mathis was thoroughly perplexed. For lack of a better reaction, he reached out to take the basket from her. The moment it was in his grasp, she turned and began to run off.

"Wait!" he called after her. "My lady—please wait."

She came to an unsteady halt, turning to face him as if facing her worst nightmare. Mathis wasn't sure if she was just strange or awkward or both, but it was becoming comical. He walked up on her, trying to be gentle with the skittish creature.

"I do not even know your name," he said. "And who told you I like sweets?"

The young woman swallowed hard. "Diara told me."

"Ah," he said. "Are you a wedding guest?"

She shook her head. "Nay," she said. "She married my father."

Now, things were coming to make sense. Sort of. "You are Roi's daughter?"

She nodded. "One of them."

He smiled faintly. "I do not even know your name."

"I am Adalia."

"Lady Adalia," he said, rolling her name over his tongue. "That is a lovely name."

The red in her cheeks deepened, which was rather sweet, he thought. She was very young, however, and looked nothing like her red-haired father. Mathis knew that Roi had been married before, long ago, so he assumed the lass looked like her mother. But she didn't reply to his compliment, so he gestured to the basket.

"What did you bring me?" he said. "Moreover, did you bring this to distract me from the game? I'm opposing your father, you know. Did he send you to tempt me to keep me away from the field?"

He was teasing her, but she looked mortified. "Nay," she gasped. "I promise you that I would never do such a thing!"

He held up a hand to ease her. "I was jesting," he said. "I only meant that sweets and a lovely lady would accomplish the task. I would gladly be distracted."

Adalia calmed down a little when she realized he was gently humoring her. In fact, she actually smiled. "I could not be so clever, my lord," she said. "I would not know where to begin."

He smiled because she was. "I do not believe it," he said. "A lady as lovely as you? You must be very clever. You made these sweets, did you now? That proves you are quite clever."

He looked in the basket, which was covered by a cloth, pulling forth a small, round cake. Adalia craned her neck to see what he was poking at.

"They are oatcakes with currants and honey," she said. "My grandmother has citron trees, and I used that for the glaze on the top."

He didn't hesitate to take a big bite, chewing a couple of times before groaning in delight. "They are exquisite," he said, mouth full as he shoved the whole thing in. "Lady, you are masterful."

Adalia was back to flushing violently with his flattery. "I learned from a woman who came from France," she said. "While other girls were learning to dance and sing, I was learning to make sweets and breads and other things. I enjoy it."

Mathis' mouth was so full that he couldn't speak, so he held up a finger to beg patience while he finished chewing and swallowed.

"It shows," he said. "These are delicious. But may I ask why you chose to bring them to me? Did I do something to earn them?"

Adalia's smile faded and she began to grow nervous. "N-nay," she stammered. "You… you have done nothing. I… I simply thought… Good day to you, my lord."

With that, she raced off before Mathis could stop her. He watched her run to the other side of the field where the women were gathered, but he lost sight of her as she hid amongst the crowd. He was rather sorry he chased her off. Another hand abruptly appeared and plundered a sweet from his basket. He looked over to see Pryce standing next to him.

"Who was that?" Pryce asked, sticking a cake in his mouth and chewing. "God's Bones, these are good. Did she bring them?"

Mathis nodded. "She did," he said. "That is Roi's daughter, Adalia, but I am at a loss to know why she brought them to me."

Pryce tried to take another cake, but Mathis smacked his hand away and took his basket, heading over toward the other side of the field. He wasn't done with Lady Adalia, not in the least, but as he skirted the field, he saw Cheltenham and a man he didn't recognize approaching the field from across the road. Trailing behind them, he could see Roi and Diara.

He felt a little stab to his heart at the sight.

It was the stab of resignation, of acceptance. There was no longer a chance for him, so he accepted that. As much as he could, anyway. Most importantly, Diara seemed to be truly enamored with the man she'd married, and he would not begrudge her for her happiness. He was glad for her. In the end, that she was happy was all that mattered to him.

Taking a deep breath, he headed in Roi and Diara's direction.

They were talking and laughing about something as he approached, and he felt rather awkward for breaking into their moment, but he had something on his mind that required Roi's opinion. Diara was giggling about something, but when she saw Mathis, she held up a hand to him in greeting.

"Good morning to you," she called. "I am very sorry you are on the losing team of men. Mayhap if you ask nicely, Roi will allow you to be on his team."

Mathis smiled weakly. "I do not want to get in the middle of Roi and his brothers, who seem to want to disable him," he said. Then he looked at Roi. "Did they manage to injure you?"

Roi shook his head. "They did not," he said. "But the day is still young."

"And they are quite determined."

Roi snorted. "Nothing has changed since we were children," he said. "But… it is enjoyable. It has been ages since we have played out in the open like this, like children."

Mathis nodded. "For me also," he said. "But speaking of children, I've come about one of yours."

Roi looked at him curiously. "Oh?" he said. "Which one?"

Mathis held up the basket. "Adalia," he said. "She brought these cakes to me and then ran off when I asked her why. I did not mean to offend her. I only asked her why she gave them to me."

Roi passed a knowing expression to Diara, who nodded her head when she realized what had happened.

"Do not be troubled," Diara said to Mathis. "It is my fault."

Mathis cocked his head curiously. "Your fault?"

"Aye," Diara said. "You see, last night, Adalia asked who you were. She must think you are very handsome, but she was mortified when I suggested an introduction. She is a very shy lass, Mathis. Very sweet but very shy. I told her that you were fond of sweets, so I believe that bringing you those cakes was her way of introducing herself. She was trying to do something nice for you."

The light of understanding went on in Mathis' eyes. "I see," he said, looking to the basket. "They are quite delicious. As I said, I did not mean to offend her by asking her why she brought them to me."

Diara watched him closely. "Would you be interested in a formal introduction?" she asked. "Lady Adalia is a de Lohr, after all. She's very pretty and clearly talented."

Mathis could have throttled her. She was asking in front of the young woman's father, so if Mathis refused, he risked Roi's anger. He was only just dealing with a broken heart over Diara marrying another man and had no interest in entertaining his own romantic prospects at the moment, but he supposed it would do no good for him to lament that which he had lost for the rest of his life. Diara was gone, and he had accepted that.

Besides… Adalia was quite lovely.

It wouldn't kill him if they were formally introduced.

"Only with Roi's permission," he finally said. "I will do nothing without his permission."

Diara looked at Roi, who was looking at Mathis as if mulling the whole thing over. "Let me think on it," he said. "Mathis, you and I must speak before I do anything."

"Of course, Roi."

"She is my eldest daughter, after all."

"A fine woman."

"How old are you?"

"I have seen thirty years and five."

Roi grunted. "She has seen seventeen," he said. "She is still quite young."

"She is a woman," Diara said firmly. "You said yourself that you should be seeking a husband for her. Mathis is a most worthy candidate."

Roi looked at her with some exasperation. "I know the man," he said irritably. "Let me at least get used to the idea before you marry my daughter off tomorrow."

Diara laughed softly. "I apologize, my love," she said, properly contrite. "I will say no more about it."

"Thank you."

"Until tomorrow."

Roi rolled his eyes, sighing heavily as he turned to Mathis. "When are you returning home?"

Mathis instinctively turned to the crowd in the near distance, seeking out Robin as he spoke to a couple of men he was acquainted with but didn't really know.

"I am not certain," he said. "As soon as Cheltenham decides we must leave, but I have no idea when that will be. It could be tomorrow or it could be in a week. He's been fickle as of late, so I have no way of knowing."

Diara looked at him. Something he said stuck in her mind— he's been fickle as of late . That reminded her of finding her father in the hall.

"Mathis," she said slowly. "Has my father been acting strangely? Is that what you mean by fickle?"

Mathis shrugged. "Your father has his moments," he said. "The past week or two has seen him more short-tempered than usual. Ever since you and Roi departed Cicadia and Cirencester arrived."

Diara looked at him sharply. "Cirencester?" she said with surprise. "What did he want?"

Mathis shrugged. "Evidently, Beckett's funeral procession passed through his lands on the way to the marches," he said. "Since he was coming from Selbourne, the fastest route was through Cirencester. I do not know the details of the conversation, but I do know that he came to pay his respects for the loss of your betrothed to your father."

Diara grew tense, uncharacteristic for her. "There has to be more to it than that," she said. "Riggs Fairford has never done anything without an ulterior motive. What did he want? Money for allowing Beckett to pass through his lands?"

Mathis shook his head. "I do not know," he said. "But his visit must have done some good because after he left, your father was much happier and far more congenial than he'd been since he received the news that Beckett had died. After that, your father was eager to come when he received your wedding invitation."

Roi had been watching the exchange. Mostly, he'd been watching his wife nearly become irate over the visit of Cirencester. He patted the hand that was still clutching his elbow.

"See?" he said. "Your father has forgiven us our hasty departure."

Diara wasn't convinced in the least. "Then why was he in your father's solar, poking around?"

Mathis heard her. "What was he doing?" he asked.

Roi waved him off as if it wasn't a serious issue, but Diara answered. "When everyone was down here at the field, I found my father in Lord Hereford's solar, reading through his things," she said. "I thought it very strange that he should do so."

"I am sure he was simply being nosy," Roi said. "What harm can he do?"

Diara's gaze found her father near the field speaking with more men. "I do not know, but I do not like it," she said. "I told you that he can hold a grudge. What you did in his solar… he will not easily forgive that. I worry that he is… Oh, I do not know what I worry about. But I do not like Cirencester's visit."

"Why not?"

She shrugged. "Because I do not like the man," she said. "He's devious and immoral. He wanted me to marry his son, but my father would not allow it. Even he knows that Cirencester is not the most noble of families."

"Yet he accepted a visit from the man," Roi said. "And according to Mathis, the visit helped him a great deal."

"Possibly."

Roi could see that she wasn't convinced. He patted her hand again. "Stop worrying over your father," he said. "He will soon forget any imagined grudge. Right now, there are more games to play and more than I plan to win, so let us get on with it. Mathis?"

"My lord?"

"Let me introduce you to my daughter."

That seemed to switch Diara's focus from her father to Adalia, and she smiled weakly. "I thought you needed time to adjust to it?" she said.

Roi winked at her. "I have had plenty of time," he said. "Mathis, I hear your family comes from the north and lives in a castle that used to be inhabited by the kings of old."

Mathis nodded. "That is true," he said. "The ancient kingdom of Elmet. My family is descended from those kings."

"Is your father still alive?"

Mathis nodded. "He is," he said. "And before you ask, I am his only son. I will inherit Kongenhus Castle."

Roi's brow lifted. "Kongenhus," he repeated. "I do believe I've heard of it. Near Kendal?"

Mathis nodded. "It is."

"I always thought the name was strange."

"It means King's House in the old language."

"Have you learned enough?" Diara asked, interrupting them as she looked at Roi. "The man is descended from kings. Is he worthy of an introduction now?"

Roi snorted. "Mayhap," he said. "Mayhap not. Every father has the right to be selective when it comes to his daughter."

Diara assured him that Mathis was a fine prospect as they walked away, off to find Adalia. Mathis followed behind them, mulling over Diara's words to Roi. She had asked if the fact Mathis was descended from kings meant he was worthy of a de Lohr bride. Bitterly, he mused that it hadn't been good enough for Cheltenham. He'd lost the only bride he'd ever wanted, no matter whom he was related to.

But it was a new world now. He needed to embrace it. He wasn't entirely sure marrying the daughter of the man who married his only love would be a good match, for him emotionally, that was, but socially and politically, it would be an excellent one.

A new world, indeed.

And Mathis had to find his way in it.