Chapter Eight

CHAPTER EIGHT

"W here in the hell have you been? Lord Exmoor has been looking for you since last night."

It was dawn. Tay had just returned to Blackchurch, quite alone, because Athdara had been gone when he awoke. In the predawn morning, he'd thundered his way back to Blackchurch only to run into Bowen, who seemed surprised to see him. They met up on the street of the trainer village, just to the east of the burned-out remains of the old church and near the cloister. Tay, who had slept heavily at the old lodge, had a bit of a headache and was in no mood for criticism or concern.

"I was not aware I could not leave when my training was finished and return before it began," he said, frowning. "If you must know, I went in search of the woman who ran yesterday after clubbing me in the heir-maker."

"Why?" Bowen said. "She returned this morning."

Tay's eyebrows lifted. "She did?"

Bowen nodded. "She was with the group this morning," he said. "She is out on the field right now."

Tay struggled not to look too relieved or surprised. He tried to remain perfectly neutral. When he'd awoken to find her gone, he had to admit that he felt foolish, as if he'd been lied to and duped. He thought that she had planned to run off all along, but instead, she'd come back to Blackchurch just as she said she would and was waiting for him to continue her training. Perhaps that meant she was truly serious about all of this, and when he realized that, he didn't feel so angry or duped. But he had to admit that he had been disappointed not to travel back with her.

Damn him… he'd been looking forward to the trip, just the two of them. More conversation, more balm to heal what he'd thought was his broken heart. For two years, he thought it had been broken. But with the arrival of Athdara, maybe it hadn't been broken so much as slightly bruised. That kind of thought had never happened before.

Something very concerning was happening to him.

And perhaps even slightly wonderful.

"Very well," he said. "Today, they'll run. Have them run around the lake at least five times. These days are about endurance, so let them endure. Tomorrow, we'll have them do more activity to strengthen their upper bodies, and then we'll have them run again. You know how these things are done, Bowen. Get them moving. I am off to see Lord Exmoor."

Bowen nodded smartly and was off, heading to the field where the recruits who had survived yesterday were now waiting for their instructions. Tay rushed toward his cottage, one of many that had been confiscated those years ago. Literally, the entire village of Eastmoor had been absorbed by Blackchurch, so it looked like any other village anywhere in England.

Except elite trainers and other Blackchurch-related personnel lived there.

Tay's cottage was one of the larger ones. It was attached to the cottages on either side of it, as all of the cottages were, a line of Medieval architecture along Eastmoor's main street. It was a mix of wattle and daub as well as brick, some whitewashed, some not. Tay's cottage was three-storied, with a kitchen and common room and a small annex on the ground floor, and then a narrow flight of stairs built into the wall that led to three chambers upstairs. There was also a second, even smaller flight of stairs that led to another room on the third floor.

The door to Tay's cottage was unlocked. It was always unlocked, as were all of the cottages along the road, because only a madman would try to enter one of them, much less attempt to rob a trainer. Tay rushed into the cottage with its old eating area and hearth, one he'd never used, and a table with chairs that he had hardly used except to throw things upon it, like shoes or tunics or swords.

Upstairs were his bed and his wardrobe as well as a basin with cold water, always available, where he quickly washed his face and hands. Stripping off his tunic, he used a cake of hard white soap and washed his neck and, very quickly, his hair. After dunking his head in the water, he rinsed off the soap and used a stale towel that smelled a little of mold, one he'd used many times, to dry off. Grabbing a fresh tunic, he pulled it over his head as he rushed out of his cottage.

The sun was steadily rising over the green Devon landscape as he made his way toward Exford Castle. It occurred to him that he hadn't washed for St. Denis, but rather because he would be seeing Athdara later on, and he didn't want to look like an animal. Or smell like one, either. He had to laugh at himself, feeling rather ridiculous for caring what she thought, but he'd had two solid conversations with the woman, and that had been enough to cement his interest in her. Regardless of her situation, or his, there was attraction there that could not be denied.

That was the truth of it.

He wasn't sure what "more" he wanted from her. He couldn't articulate that particular thought. But he was a determined man that morning, determined to speak with St. Denis and explain the situation with Athdara de Ghent and his solution to it. But he also wanted to discuss what her true intention was and the barriers she would be facing. He wasn't sure how much St. Denis knew, but Tay was in a tricky position—he was well known to be very hard on any women recruits. Now, he was going to advocate for one.

He didn't want to come across like a fool.

Exford Castle gleamed in the early-morning sun, the eastern side of the stark gray walls lit up by the rays. The curtain wall and the keep itself were set deep in the red earth of Devon, making a sharp contrast in color as Tay passed through the gatehouse guarded by a few of the de Bottreaux soldiers. St. Denis didn't keep a big army, but there were soldiers, about five hundred of them, who manned the perimeter walls of Blackchurch as well as the castle and keep itself. They had their own encampment near the stables, which were close to the north gate.

The keep of Exford loomed in front of him, for the castle didn't have a very large bailey. It was quite small compared to some. The keep took up most of the space, a large, square building that had five floors, including the belowground vault. Tay took the wooden stairs to the entry on the first floor, admitted by a soldier who stood at the door simply to make sure no one uninvited entered the keep.

The keep itself was dark and cool, the entry lit by light from windows in one of the two chambers on the floor, including an enormous solar used by St. Denis. Tay hadn't taken two steps into the entry when he was met by St. Sebastian.

The tall, red-haired de Bottreaux brother grinned at him. "S-so you are alive," he said, reaching out to clap Tay on the arm. "W-we've been looking for you."

Tay smiled at the man he genuinely liked. "So I heard," he said. "Where is your father?"

St. Sebastian gestured toward the solar. "I-in there," he said, lowering his voice. "H-he wants to t-talk to you about the de Ghent lass."

Tay nodded, already knowing the subject, already prepared for what was to come. "I am prepared, Sebo," he said quietly. "Is his mood good?"

"G-good enough."

"Is he alone?"

"M-Ming Tang and Aamir are with him now."

Tay thanked St. Sebastian and continued on into the solar.

The chamber that St. Denis claimed as his solar was the same room that generations of his family had used as well, meaning it was packed with possessions that his ancestors had claimed over the decades. Great pieces of carved furniture lined the walls, from tables to cabinets, and the dusty floor was covered with fine hides. Tapestries hung from the ceiling, pushed aside to admit light and air into the chamber, and a hearth that could fit three men easily burned brightly.

Everything smelled like leather and smoke.

This was the heart of the de Bottreaux empire, and Tay had been here many times. The moment he entered the solar, he could see the players in the room. He could see St. Denis standing next to an enormous table that had been brought all the way from Rome in a merchant caravan. It was made of some exotic wood that could not be found in England, and some ancestor purchased it as a prize to show off to envious visitors. Over the years, the surface of it had become worn and scratched and pitted from all of the business that had been conducted upon its surface, but the table was legendary. Sometimes Tay wondered if that table wasn't where the Lords of Exmoor gained their power. It was part of the family as much as St. Denis or his sons.

Over near one of the lancet windows that faced west stood Ming Tang. He'd been speaking to St. Denis when Tay entered, and farther down the wall, near another lancet window, sat Aamir. Tall and handsome, with flowing black locks, a dark beard, and equally dark eyes, Aamir ibn Rashad was a warm and compassionate individual. Considering his father was a great warlord, that was saying something. Aamir was born to battle, bred in battle, and steeped in battle, yet one would never know from his behavior. Sometimes the man came across like a father confessor or a priest, wise and gentle in ways that men usually weren't.

But he could cut a man's heart out and never break a sweat.

"Ah," St. Denis said when he saw Tay enter the chamber. "We have been speaking of you, Tay. I realize you have a group to train this morning, but I was hoping for a few words with you regarding Athdara de Ghent. Were you told?"

Tay nodded. "I was, my lord," he said. "Would you permit me to speak first on the matter?"

St. Denis nodded. "I wish you would," he said. "What happened yesterday? I was told she ran off."

Tay glanced at Ming Tang, and then Aamir, before continuing. "It is not as it sounds," he said. "I was told that you had requested I not… chase her from Blackchurch. I suppose that is being kind about it."

St. Denis snorted. "Kind, indeed," he said. "But let us be truthful, Tay. I know you do not believe women should be warriors. In fact, I agree with you, which is why I depend on you to weed out the women who do not have the courage to live a man's life. I have never questioned you on that. But in Lady Athdara's case, I simply requested that you give the woman a fair chance without trying to humiliate or terrify her."

Tay nodded, seeing Ming Tang smirk out of the corner of his eye. "In my defense, I did indeed acquiesce to your wishes," he said. "I did not harass or intimidate her. In fact, I used her as an example to the others in an exercise yesterday morning. A test of endurance."

"How did you accomplish this test?"

"Two men face one another, each striking the other in turn until one of them surrenders," Tay said. "I have done it a hundred times before. The purpose is to test the determination and endurance of the recruits, as you know. I chose the lady to face off against me, and we drew straws. I went first."

St. Denis visibly winced. "What did you do to her?"

Tay shook his head. "Nothing," he said. "I swung my club at her knees, but she jumped over it. My turn was over, and it was her turn to swing at me. Cleverly, she swung at my manhood to disable me."

"Did she?"

"She did."

Somewhere back in the chamber, Aamir burst into soft laughter, but Tay didn't turn around to look at him. He was focused on St. Denis, who closed his eyes in horror at the thought of a club plowing into a man's testicles.

"Christ," he muttered. "How ghastly. But if she disabled you, why did she run?"

Tay shrugged. "As she explained it to me, she could not stomach what she had done," he said. "My lord, I have been gone since yesterday evening because I tracked the lady down and convinced her to return. I knew you would think I had chased her away, so based on that, she has agreed to return to prove that I did not chase her off. She ran of her own accord. And… I spoke to her at length, my lord. I believe we have a problem."

St. Denis was quite interested in what his Leviathan had to say. "Oh?" he said. "What problem?"

Tay wasn't quite sure where to start. "She told me that her father was your friend," he said. "In fact, she told me the whole story. Did she tell you why, exactly, she has come here?"

St. Denis nodded. "Aye," he said, somewhat subdued. "She wants to regain the duchy of Toxandria from her uncle, who murdered her father and brother in order to steal it."

Tay nodded. "Indeed, she wants to regain it," he said. "But her expectations… Did she reveal them to you?"

St. Denis reflected on the conversation he'd had with her. "She said that she wanted to learn to fight and to command men," he said. "It is her intention to raise an army to avenge her father."

"But did she tell you how she intends to do it?"

St. Denis shook his head. "We did not discuss it," he said. "To be truthful, when she arrived here, she was upset and exhausted. She told me she wanted to train, and I agreed. I have waived the usual fee for her training because she is my old friend's daughter, but we did not discuss how she intends to exact her revenge. Why are you asking, Tay? Did she ask if Blackchurch would help her raise an army?"

Tay waggled his head back and forth. "Nay, nothing like that," he said. "She understands that we do not take sides in political battles, but she has a problem. She intends to hire a mercenary army with the promise of riches once Breda Castle and Toxandria belong to her."

"Why is that a problem?"

"Because she does not consider that she might not regain her ancestral home," Tay said plainly. "She believes it will be a simple thing to promise mercenaries money. She does not consider what will happen if they fail at their objective and there is no way to pay the mercenaries. My lord, her views are na?ve and foolish. She is going to get herself killed, or worse."

St. Denis sighed faintly, digesting what Tay was telling him. "I should have suspected that," he muttered. "I suppose I was blinded by the news that her father was killed and she wanted help in avenging his death. I should have asked what her plans were, but alas, I did not. I simply agreed to train her."

Tay lifted his big shoulders. "Train her for what?" he said. "Disappointment? Death? She has no money and no means other than determination and big dreams."

St. Denis eyed him with some regret. "So this will be a futile effort," he said. "This is my mistake, Tay. For that, I apologize. You did what I should have done—you got to the heart of what she is intending."

"Mayhap so, but I thought you should know."

"And I do," St. Denis said softly. Then he scratched his head in a feeble gesture. "But I cannot go back on my word to her. Her father saved my life in battle. I owe him whatever I can provide for him. But I also cannot allow his daughter to march so willingly towards her death, for all of her noble intentions, so I am in a difficult position."

Tay watched the man for a moment, hesitant to say what was on his mind, but he'd come this far. He was going to finish it.

"I have an idea, if you will," he said. "May I?"

St. Denis nodded eagerly. "I wish you would."

Tay planted his bulk in the nearest chair. "She cannot train five years here only to face the ultimate defeat when she tries to raise an army," he said. "Truthfully, I do not even know if five years will teach her all she needs to know. What she needs takes years of discipline and training and experience. I was thinking that, mayhap, we can simply train her personally. Me, Ming Tang, Aamir, Kristian, Fox, and the rest of the trainers. We can do concentrated instruction and teach her what we can, simply so she understands what she is facing. Mayhap she won't be ready to take the field, but at least she will understand the basics of what she intends to face."

St. Denis was listening intently. "But why?" he said. "If she is not going to take the field, why train her at all?"

"Because if we do not, she'll go find someone who will," Tay said. "Someone who takes advantage of her or trains her improperly. One way or the other, she is determined to fight for her father's legacy. It would be better if we helped her, since her father was your friend."

St. Denis still didn't understand. "But we would be wasting our time," he said. "It seems to me that training her would simply encourage her na?ve dreams."

Tay held up a hand for patience. "I am coming to that," he said. "My lord, you said that her father saved your life in battle."

St. Denis nodded firmly. "He did," he said. "In a battle against his sons in the Vexin many years ago."

"But there were other warlords in that battle," Tay said. "Warlords fighting with you. Warlords from Flanders or Burgundy, men who not only know you, but know her father."

St. Denis' brow furrowed as he considered Tay's words. "There were others," he said. "I can think of several."

"Men who were allied with the Duke of Toxandria?"

"Of course."

"Men who might still feel loyalty to him, even now?"

St. Denis' eyes widened as he realized what Tay was driving at. "Of course," he hissed. "Men allied with Anton de Ghent who may not know what has happened to him."

Tay could see the light of understanding in the man's eyes. "They may not know that his brother murdered him and stole his duchy," he said. "Men who might be very willing to help his daughter regain the duchy because it is the right thing to do. Men who value an alliance and friendship with Toxandria with Lady Athdara in command. Men, like you, who feel loyalty and brotherhood with Anton de Ghent and would be willing to go to battle for him, to avenge a terrible wrong. At least if we train her, she'll not go making the request looking like a fool. She'll know of fighting and strategy and warfare. She'll be an intelligent representative for the duke's legacy."

St. Denis loved the idea. "There are several men that I can think of," he said. "Anton was well liked. Tay, you and the others train the woman. I will send the necessary missives to men who fought alongside us those years ago. I will find someone to help her regain that duchy."

Tay was feeling much better than he had when he first entered the chamber. St. Denis clearly understood now what was at stake. Who was at stake.

It was Athdara's life.

"Excellent idea, my lord," he said. "I am going to remove her from the group of recruits and house her in the village. I will speak with the other trainers, and we will set up a regimen that suits the lady's particular needs."

St. Denis was already moving back to the table that contained parchment and his writing kit, among other things. He began rifling through the rolls and rolls of parchment in stacks, clearly looking for something.

"I am glad you brought this to my attention," he said. "I feel foolish that I did not press her more about her intentions, but now that we know what they are, we will help her more than she can imagine."

"Indeed, my lord."

St. Denis found what he was looking for and yanked it out of the pile, rolling it open. "Since you have discovered all of this and have evidently started a rapport with the lady, I will make her your ward," he said. "Make sure she is housed and clothed, trained and well tended."

Tay hadn't been expecting that level of responsibility and wasn't sure he wanted it. "But, my lord, I—"

"Consider it your penitence for all of the women you persecuted under the guise of training," St. Denis said, casting Tay a long look. "You've been cruel to the female sex long enough. Now, I am asking you to be kind to Lady Athdara to make up for all of your past sins. Train her as you would train any other worthy recruit, but more so. Will you do this?"

Initially, Tay didn't want to. He didn't want the added responsibility. But the more he thought on it, the more he wasn't entirely upset about it. Perhaps it would be a good thing, because, God only knew, he wasn't sure he'd be happy if another man had charge of her. Still, he had to make a show of his indifference, or the others would be able to tell he wasn't entirely averse to the directive. That would only lead to questions he had no idea how to answer.

"Very well, my lord," he said, averting his gaze and sounding unhappy. "If that is your wish."

St. Denis' gaze lingered on him for a moment before returning to the document in his hands. "Gather your trainers and explain the situation," he said. "You may decide the training schedule. It will give us time to receive a reply from one or more of the warlords I will be contacting."

"Aye, my lord."

"You may go."

Tay headed out of the chamber and into the entryway, his mind fairly buzzing with the conversation. He was just passing through the door when he heard his name. Coming to a halt, he waited for Ming Tang to catch up to him.

"It seems that you have been given a special burden," Ming Tang said, a twinkle in his dark eyes. "I am sorry if this is unwelcome."

Tay was trying to keep up the impression that this was something he didn't want. "I cannot disobey Exmoor's directive," he said. "I will endure."

"Of course you will," Ming Tang said. "Come; I will go with you to summon the trainers, and then we shall go to the field. I've not yet met this woman. What is she like?"

They began to head out of the keep, down the wooden steps and to the red earth below. "A woman like any other," Tay said neutrally. "But she is intelligent and determined. Her intention to avenge her father is an honorable one."

"You made an impassioned plea for Lord Exmoor to help her."

"I thought that is what Lord Exmoor would want, since he knew the girl's father."

"That is extraordinarily astute," Ming Tang said. "You went after her when she ran away, spoke civilly to her, enough to know her intentions in this situation. That speaks of closer contact with women than you are known for."

There was something in his tone that suggested he was onto Tay. He viewed Athdara differently than most females, and Ming Tang could sense it. The man wasn't stupid. He was also one of Tay's closest friends, so perhaps a little confessional to him would be a good thing. He knew that Ming Tang wouldn't think less of him for finding interest in a woman. He might actually applaud him.

"Yesterday was not the first time I have met Athdara de Ghent," he said quietly.

Ming Tang, usually so good at controlling the emotions on his face, couldn't help his look of surprise. "Is this so?" he said. "Where did you meet her before?"

Tay came to a halt, facing Ming Tang and knowing his story was going to sound stupid before he even told it. "The night before, at The Black Cock," he said. "After you left, she entered, and we quite literally bumped into one another. She spilled my drink and was courteous enough to buy me a new one. We spoke. We spoke for quite some time, and I found her to be enchanting and delightful, so much so that I asked her to meet me again the next day. As it turned out, we did meet, but not at The Black Cock, as we had agreed. We met on the training field."

Ming Tang couldn't mask his shock. "You arranged to meet her after you first met her?"

"I did."

"And you did not know she was your new female recruit?"

"I did not. In fairness, I did not ask."

"She did not know you were to be her trainer?"

"She did not."

Ming Tang could see what had happened. Given the expression on Tay's face, it was clear.

"So you met a woman you were attracted to, only to find out she was a recruit," he said. "As we all know, few female recruits make it past you, so when you realized who she was, you were torn."

"Aye."

"Very torn."

" Very ."

"But you did not chase her away?"

"I swear, I did not."

Ming Tang shook his head at the irony of it all. "I am sorry for you, my friend," he said. "I know how you view women. I can only imagine that this must have been a blow."

Tay sighed sharply. "Not too terribly," he said, but he came to a halt and faced the shorter man. "What has me so frustrated is the fact that she intends to train here, hire a gang of mercenaries, and then go back to Toxandria to regain her father's duchy."

"Why should that frustrate you?"

"Because I cannot help her beyond training her."

The light of recognition went on in Ming Tang's eyes. "You want to go with her to Toxandria."

Tay rolled his eyes helplessly and started walking again. "Nay," he said sharply. "Aye. Damnation, I do not know what I want or what I am thinking. All I know… I feel the need to help her. That is as much as I can say right now."

A smile tugged at Ming Tang's lips. "That is because you are a compassionate man underneath that hard fa?ade," he said. "You pretend that you are not, but I know otherwise."

"Oh, do shut up."

Ming Tang chuckled. "I will," he said. "For now. But I will say one thing more."

"What?"

"I am most anxious to meet the lady who seems to have charmed the Leviathan."

Tay shook his head. "You know what eventually happened to the Leviathan, don't you?"

"What?"

"He was annihilated."

Ming Tang could see the recruits off to the west. Bowen was yelling at them, telling them to continue running around the lake. He kept an eye out for a woman but couldn't spot her. She was somewhere out there, that Leviathan tamer. But given Tay's last experience with a woman, he certainly hoped history wasn't doomed to repeat itself.

"Let us hope not, my friend," he said after a moment. "For your sake, let us hope not."