Chapter Nine

CHAPTER NINE

S he was used to exhaustion.

Athdara had run a full lap around Lake Cocytus as the sun rose, a distance of a few miles at least. It was an enormous lake. But considering how much she'd run since leaving Toxandria, it wasn't all that difficult.

At least bounty hunters weren't chasing her this time.

But the trainers were.

She hadn't seen Tay since returning to Blackchurch. Even in this morning's training session, there were four men who served him doing the training, but no Tay. His men were in various places around the lake, making sure the recruits were running as they were supposed to. The rule at Blackchurch was that if a man was ever carried away, unable to continue, he was finished, and that included a run around the lake. Any recruits who had twisted their ankles in holes in the fields, or injured a knee or a hip, were limping along as they ran. No one wanted to be carried off.

That, in particular, included Athdara.

She was long-legged, and running had always come easily to her, so she was one of the recruits in the lead as they made their way around the lake. The second lap was about the same time as the first, as she didn't slow down, but nearing the end of the lap, she put her foot in a rabbit hole. She stumbled but didn't break a leg, thankfully, and was able to pick up and keep going with only a little pain in her foot.

The third lap went a little slower because her foot was starting to swell. She could feel it in her shoe. The Leviathan's associates were spread out along the path, so one was always there to yell at her to get her going, which she did. Through the trees and over small hills the path went, the lake always on her right-hand side. It was a beautiful lake, truthfully, but she didn't pause to look at it. Today was a running day, so she ran.

And ran and ran.

It was after the nooning hour, and after her fourth lap, she neared the recruit field to see Tay standing near the end of it, where the path went around the lake. He was with a shorter man clad in robes. She was exhausted and in some pain with her swelling foot, but she didn't slow down as she approached them. In fact, she picked up speed. She nearly sprinted past them, but Tay called out to her as she blew by.

"My lady," he shouted. "Athdara, stop !"

She did, grinding to an unsteady halt. Her face was red with exertion, sweat covering her body, and her breathing was coming in heavy pants as she made her way back to Tay and the man in the earth-colored robes. She coughed a couple of times, trying to clear her lungs and catch her breath, her attention on Tay until she got a good look at the man beside him. He wasn't like any man she'd ever seen before, and her curious focus switched to him until Tay started talking.

"How early did you leave The Rook's Nest?" he asked.

She tore her gaze away from the other man and looked at him. "Well before dawn," she said. "I wanted to come back here on my own."

"But why?"

She lifted a well-shaped brow. "Because I did not want it to appear as if you were dragging me back," she said. "I said I would return, and I did. Under my own power and without a guard."

The woman had pride. Tay fought off a smirk. "I should have known," he said. "My apologies for humiliating you with the suggestion of an escort."

Athdara could see that he was being humorous, and her eyes glimmered with mirth. "You are forgiven," she said. "But much as you did not wish for Lord Exmoor to think that you chased me away, I did not want anyone to think you chased me back. I came back of my own will."

"I know."

"Did you tell him so?"

"He knows, but he'll still want to hear it from you."

She nodded firmly. "He will, but not now," she said. "If you do not mind, I must continue running. We are running all day, evidently."

Tay shook his head. "Nay," he said. "You are coming with me."

She looked at him curiously. "But why?"

He reached out and grasped her by the elbow, pulling her along. "Just come," he said. "I have something else in mind for you."

Athdara wasn't entirely sure what he meant, so her movements were hesitant. She wasn't going eagerly.

"But you said that I could continue to train," she said.

"And you shall."

"But where are we going?"

"To meet the other trainers."

She wasn't sure what he was talking about. Last night, he'd spoken of having him and his trainer friends educate her, and she thought that meant returning to her recruit group, but evidently, he had something different in mind.

With that thought, she followed.

"I did intend to ask permission to speak with Lord Exmoor today," she said. "I wanted to make sure he knew you did not chase me away."

Tay shook his head. "That would be appreciated," he said. "However, I saw him this morning, and we discussed the situation. We had a long discussion about you and your objectives."

She looked at him. "About me?" she said. "What was said?"

Tay caught a glimpse of Ming Tang on the lady's opposite side and gestured toward the man. "At the risk of being rude, let me first introduce you to one of the trainers here at Blackchurch," he said. "He also happens to be one of my closest friends. Lady Athdara de Ghent, daughter of the Duke of Toxandria, this is Ming Tang."

Athdara turned to the short but powerful man with the dark eyes. "It is an honor, my lord," she said. "Your name is most unusual."

Ming Tang smiled faintly at the tall, beautiful woman. " I am most unusual," he said. "At least, in England I am, but not where I am from."

"Where is that?"

He gestured in an eastward direction. "A land very far away," he said. "A beautiful and gracious land that speaks to its people and nurtures the chosen."

Athdara was listening with increasing fascination. "Are you one of the chosen?"

He grinned at her. "If Buddha wishes."

"Who is Buddha?"

"That is something to learn at another time," Tay answered for him. "Ming Tang teaches an ancient form of hand-to-hand combat and can outfight any knight I have ever seen. He can kill a man with great ease or command a battle with equal skill. I've never seen finer. But he is also a great healer with techniques he has brought from his home. He's a man of many talents."

Athdara nodded. "Then, like me, you are not from England," she said to Ming Tang. "Have you been here long?"

"Long enough."

"Do you like it here?" she said. "Or do you miss your home?"

The man nodded. "I am content here, but I do miss my familiar lands at times," he said. "It is normal to long for one's place of birth, as I'm sure you do."

"I do, very much."

Ming Tang smiled faintly. "I have traveled the world and gathered much knowledge to take back with me," he said. "My longing will not last forever. I shall return, someday, and teach what I have learned."

The glimmer in Athdara's eyes faded. "I shall return someday, also, but not to teach what I have learned," she said. "I return to render a lesson."

"So I have heard."

Athdara looked at him, perhaps a bit uncomfortable that he had been told her objectives, only to see understanding and approval in those dark depths. Tay had rather painted the man to be some kind of physic-warrior, but she saw more than that in him.

Ming Tang was an interesting soul, indeed.

She was so wrapped up in her impressions of Ming Tang that she failed to realize they were heading into the trainer village. It looked like any other village, with cottages and a well in the central town square, except for the fact that it was filled with everyone who served a purpose at Blackchurch. Athdara had never been this far inside the forbidden village, and she looked around with interest.

"No dogs, no children," she muttered. "I feel as if I am looking at something dead."

Tay glanced at her. "What are you looking at?"

She gestured to the village. "This," she said. "It was once a thriving town, wasn't it?"

Tay nodded. "Long ago, before the Lords of Exmoor claimed it."

"That's what I mean by dead," she said. "There are ghosts here. Ghosts of families, of a vibrant life. It seems like a rather sad place."

"I have often thought that," Ming Tang said. "This should be a village of merchants and peasants, all of them going about their lives, but instead it is a village of those who serve Lord Exmoor. It is… quiet."

Athdara looked at Tay. "And all of you live here?"

He nodded. "All of the trainers and those who serve them," he said. "I have six men who serve me personally, men you have seen training the recruits. Each trainer has anywhere from two to ten men serving him. They all live here."

Athdara turned to Ming Tang. "Do you have men who serve you?"

He shrugged. "I have two young men whom I have trained to assist in my teachings," he said. "I have taught them the Shaolin way."

"What is Shaolin?"

"It is where I was educated. It is my belief."

"A way to fight?"

Ming Tang nodded. "And more," he said. "It is a way of life, a way of being."

"Are the men who serve you from your country?"

He grinned. "Cut them and they bleed green, like the impossibly green fields of Devon," he said. "They are Norman."

"Yet you have taught them something different from what they have always known?"

"They are young, but that does not mean they are foolish," Ming Tang said. "They want to know more than what the wai teaches them."

She cocked her head. "What does wai mean?"

He waved a hand. "It means far away," he said. "People who are far away from my own people and do not think like those who live where I was born. You are wai ."

Athdara chuckled. "See? I am learning something already."

Ming Tang grinned at her. As those two engaged in conversation, Tay was watching closely. Mostly, he was watching Athdara. He was watching the way her mouth formed words and the way she spoke, which, as he had noticed at the first, was with a very slight lisp. It was rather charming. As he had also noticed from the first, her face had a way of lighting up when she was on a subject she found interesting, but more than that, it was the way her eyes glowed when she was listening intently. He had engaged in a few conversations with her, and he was coming to realize that no one listened like she did. She had a way of making him feel like he was the only man who had ever spoken to her.

It was the way she gave him her attention that made him want to give her all of his.

As she spoke to Ming Tang about his journey to England, which only involved the methods of transportation and not the actual adventure, Tay had a chance to look her over and noticed that she was limping slightly. She was essentially wearing the same clothes that he had first met her in, those terrible pauper's clothes, which were nothing more than breeches, the tunic, a heavy belt, and a robe-like garment that covered her from her neck to her ankles.

It was no doubt not the most comfortable thing to run in, and she probably should have taken it off, but Tay suspected that she was more than likely afraid that it would have been stolen. In only the few conversations he'd had with her, he knew how much of a fight it had been from her home to this side of Devon. He knew the difficulties she had faced, which probably included a fear of people in general. All she'd known was strife and hardship. He didn't know what kinds of possessions she had, or if she even had any at all. Did she have a change of clothes or even a comb? It was a great mystery. All he knew was that she was wearing the same clothing that he had first seen on her. To see such a beautiful woman in anything other than an elegant dress and jewels for every day of the week was a genuine crime, in his opinion.

He wanted to change that.

But such help would have to wait.

Tay had already decided that he was going to offer Athdara a room in his residence, mostly because he didn't want her staying in the communal-type cottages where the assistants were lodged. He knew his own men, like Bowen, and that they were good men, but some of the other trainers had men with questionable reputations, and he didn't want her exposed to a dangerous situation.

Or so he told himself.

But the truth was that he was rationalizing the fact that he wanted her to be near him. Considering he was most definitely interested in her, it was inappropriate for him to want her to stay in his cottage, and he was well aware of that. But he also didn't want her out of his sight, which was an interesting dilemma.

A touchy situation was growing… touchier.

Before he could do anything with her, however, they had a meeting to attend. The longhouse of Eastmoor was toward the southern end of the village, set back from the road and with an adjacent empty lot where a corral had been built and horses were occasionally kept. The longhouse was built in a Saxon manner, complete with steeply pitched roof, heavy thatching, and a low doorway.

Tay led Athdara and Ming Tang into the longhouse even as they continued their conversation, but once they were inside, Athdara shut her mouth.

Several men were inside, most of them gazing back at her.

"My lady, I want to introduce you to the trainers of Blackchurch," Tay said, moving for the table in the center of the long, dusty chamber. There was wine upon the table, and he grabbed for it. "It is rare when you will have more than two or three trainers gathered together, so consider yourself fortunate to see all of us in one sitting. But they are here for a reason."

Athdara was still standing back by the door, her eyes wide at the sight of so many big, powerful men in the room. There was no light inside the hall except for what was coming in through the windows, which hardly illuminated such a big place. That made the men standing there look like wraiths, mostly shadowed.

It was deeply unnerving.

"I do not understand," she said after a moment. "Why have I been brought here?"

Tay went over to her, handed her the cup of wine he'd picked up, and pulled her over toward the table.

"Because I told you that my trainer friends and I were going to help you regain your father's duchy," he said. "I am going to explain precisely how."

"Allow me to speak, Tay."

The voice came from the far end, and everyone turned to see St. Denis entering the hall through a side door with another man trailing after him. He moved quickly, with purpose, heading into the chamber and straight for Athdara. As he drew near, he smiled warmly at her, reaching out to take her hand. He held it tightly.

"I am very glad to see that you returned," he said. "I saw you heading to the longhouse with Tay and Ming Tang from the keep, and I wanted to be part of this gathering. As you are the daughter of the man who once saved my life, this will be an important discussion."

"I still do not understand," Athdara said, feeling scrutinized with all of these unfamiliar men around her. "Why am I being discussed?"

"Because you came to me for assistance," St. Denis said. "The night you arrived, you were weary and emotional. You told me that you wished to be trained so that you could regain your father's duchy, but that is a much larger task than we both realized. It took Tay to discover your true intentions, and that is what we must discuss."

Athdara's gaze, wide and accusing, flew to Tay. "So you were probing me?" she said, aghast. "All that talk… you were interrogating me?"

Tay put up his hands in supplication, but before he could reply, St. Denis answered for him. "Of course he was not sent to interrogate you," he said. "But you were not entirely truthful with me, my lady. You told me that you wanted to learn to fight so that you could avenge your father, but you never told me how you intended to do it. I did not ask, but I suppose I should have. Mayhap you meant to keep that from me, but mayhap you did not. In any case, I understand that you plan to raise a mercenary army to attack Breda Castle and oust your uncle. Had I known this, we would have had a longer discussion before I agreed to train you. I am certain you do not know what trouble you can count on with a mercenary army."

Athdara was still furious, still feeling singled out and condemned. She pulled her hand from St. Denis' grip. "Mayhap I do not, but that is something I wish to learn at Blackchurch," she said. "All Toxandria females are trained with a sword. I know something of battle. I will admit I do not know as much as a seasoned man, but I am not entirely na?ve. I simply need to be taught the skills necessary to regain my father's duchy. I have passed your dreg training. I am now a recruit. I have earned this spot."

"Did ye?" an enormous man with red hair and a heavy Scots accent said. When everyone turned to look at him, he lifted those powerful shoulders. "I am asking what we're all thinking. A short while ago, Tay told us the situation. He told us how the lady came tae Blackchurch and what her objective is. But it sounds tae me as if she had some special consideration because of her relation tae you, m'laird."

No one said a word at what could be considered definite slander toward their liege. All of them had sworn fealty to the Earl of Exmoor, as that was how Blackchurch operated, and one simply did not go around insulting St. Denis. He was revered.

But in this case, no one could disagree with what the Scotsman said. They'd heard the story from Tay about an hour before when he sent word to all of them to meet him in the longhouse, and they heard the story of the duke's daughter and her desire to raise a mercenary army. Coming from Tay Munro, it had been an odd tale, and an even odder request for assistance, and they'd been discussing it when Tay returned with the woman in question. Understandably, they were skeptical. Now, they looked to St. Denis for his response, but he was simply staring at his brutally honest trainer.

After a moment, he smiled thinly.

"My lady," he said to Athdara, avoiding reacting to the Scotsman or the probing stares of his trainers. "I have been rude in not introducing you to the men who are critical to the function of the Blackchurch Guild. Without their hearts and souls and experience, we would be nothing. My family has sought men like this for generations, and there are thousands of warriors who have passed through our gates, better for having been trained by them. Because these men are so grand, they are given names that embody who they are and what they stand for. With Tay Munro, it is the Leviathan, a mythical creature of chaos and power, born and bred from ancient tales because Tay's lineage comes from an ancient land. All things ancient are in his blood. When we look at him, we see the myths that the world was built upon. That is why he is our Leviathan."

Athdara turned to look at Tay, whose expression remained neutral. He gazed at her steadily, with the confidence of a man who was secure in who, and what, he was. Before she could say a word, St. Denis pulled her toward the big Scotsman who had challenged her qualifications.

"This is Payne Mathison," St. Denis said. "He is a former pirate turned legitimate warrior. He is suspicious by nature, so his question is not an unusual one. He is called the Tempest, and there is no moniker more deserved. Everything about him is brutal, raw, and powerful, so do not cross the man. You will regret it."

Athdara dipped her head at the trainer who wasn't entirely unhandsome. But there was nothing friendly about him.

St. Denis moved to the next man. "This is Sir Sinclair de Reyne," he said, indicating a big, muscular knight with dark hair and piercing brown eyes. "He comes from one of the finest families in England, a man with a Norman pedigree, but his skills are well beyond that of an ordinary knight. We call him the Swordsman for reasons that any enemy will tell you are abundantly clear. Next to him is Sir Fox de Merest, whose father is the Earl of Keddington. He has served in His Majesty's ranks as a guard for the king, among others, and he has Saxon blood in him. That makes him more of a knight than most. We call him the Protector."

Athdara found herself looking at two of the biggest men she'd ever seen, both of them trained knights, both of them exceedingly Norman-looking. They had that dark, well- seasoned, high-bred look about them. They gazed back at her unemotionally as St. Denis moved to the next man.

"This is our Northman, Kristian Heldane," he said. "Of course, he is known to us as the Viking because that is his heritage. You and Kristian have something in common, because his father was also murdered by a jealous relative. Kristian is a prince to his people, but he cannot return home, so he resides here and teaches our recruits the ways of the Northmen. And the man by his right hand is also Norman, from an excellent and warring family. This is our Avenger, Sir Creston de Royans, and a more precise and exacting military strategist you will never find. I have a feeling you and Sir Creston will be spending some time together. You can learn a good deal from him."

Athdara's gaze lingered on the Viking, with his long blond hair and stunning blue eyes, and then de Royans, who could have been mistaken for a brother with his fair and comely looks. Truth be told, he was quite pretty in a masculine sort of way. He even smiled faintly at her, something none of the others had done, but St. Denis turned her to the remaining men before she could smile in return. Not that she really wanted to, but it seemed the polite thing to do.

"And these men, my lady, are mayhap the most interesting," he said. He indicated a tall, dark-haired man who was long and lean but well built. "This is Cruz Mediana de Aragon, a knight from the Holy Order of Santiago. He is an expert with negotiation and politics, known to us as the Conquistador. The man standing a few feet away arrived with me. He is my advisor and greatly valued by those of us at Blackchurch. He returned with my sons from King Richard's crusade, his father being a great Egyptian warlord who encouraged his son to live amongst the savages and learn their ways. We are the savages, by the way. Meet Aamir ibn Rashad, the warrior we call the North Star, because he is strong and constant. Last but not least, of course, is Ming Tang."

Athdara was finally given the opportunity to speak. "We have met," she said. "He told me that he is a monk from far to the east."

"A former monk," St. Denis clarified. "He is from the land of the dragon, and because of that, we call him the Dragon. No warrior is his equal when it comes to fighting with hands and feet. He is a legend. And now, dear lady, you have met the trainers of Blackchurch. These are the most important men in the world of battle because they train the future. They train others to go out into the world and think like they do. These are men who have shaped countries and empires with their knowledge and skills. Do you understand this?"

Athdara nodded solemnly. "I do, my lord," she said. "That is what my father said, why he had the greatest respect for the Blackchurch Guild. I came here because my father intended to send my older brother here to train, but that was not meant to be. When our home was stolen and my family murdered, I was left the guardian of my baby brother, who is the rightful Duke of Toxandria. I had but one thought, and that was to train at Blackchurch, to help restore my family's honor and avenge the death of my father and older brother."

St. Denis nodded. "A noble intention, my lady," he said. "And these men shall train you. But—"

Athdara interrupted him. She could see the doubt in the faces of the men around her, and it was something that fed both her desperation and her pride. "Tell these men that the only thing you did for me is waive the usual training fee," she said. "Tell them that I still had to sleep with the dregs. I still had to train with them. I still had to pass every test in order to become a recruit, so tell them that you simply did not give me a place among men who had earned theirs. Tell them that I earned everything."

"She earned everything," Tay said. He had been listening to the introductions, and finally the desperation in Athdara's tone. He glanced at her as he spoke to his fellow trainers. "I get the recruits that come straight from the dregs. Trust me when I tell you that she has earned her place. I would not have asked you to take your valuable time with her had I not thought so. I think all of you know me well enough to know that I do not advocate for women. In fact, I go out of my way to fail them. But in Lady Athdara's case, she is worthy. She went up against me in an exercise and used her wits to subdue me."

That was something most of the trainers hadn't heard, so there were several expressions of surprise.

"So she has proven herself," Fox said, eyeing Athdara. "But I would say there is a difference between proving her skills and being worthy of Blackchurch. Not all who prove themselves are worthy, Tay."

That was true. Tay looked at his friend. "You've been asked to give her a short amount of your time," he said. He looked at the rest of them. "All of you have been asked to give her just a short amount of your time because although she is strong and smart, she is na?ve. She lacks experience. That is what she needs from all of you."

"As a favor to me," St. Denis said, imploring his dubious group. "She has made it this far, so as a favor to me, I am asking you to take the time to train her. It will not be the full training, but a short and concentrated session. The lady needs to learn military tactics and leadership. She needs to learn weapons and how armies think. How they move. How certain weapons affect certain things. How factors like weather and terrain can decide battles. I am asking you to use your knowledge to educate her because I have already taken care of the army that will help her regain her ancestral home. She simply needs to know what they will be doing and how they will be doing it. I will not send them a foolish, untrained woman to inspire their loyalty."

Athdara looked at him in surprise. "Army?" she repeated. "What army?"

St. Denis turned to her. "Tay had a good idea," he said. "I must say that I am ashamed I did not think of it myself, but he suggested I send word to the warlords your father fought with back during the days in the Vexin. There were many great warlords who admired your father and loved him like a brother, warlords who, I am certain, will help you achieve your objective. You do not have to hire mercenaries, Athdara. Your father's old friends will be willing to help, I am sure. But you must understand what they are doing and how they are doing it. That is where Blackchurch comes in. You will be educated in warfare, lady, and educated by the best. I will not send a novice into battle. Your father deserves nothing less than the very best you can give him."

Athdara stared at the man for a moment as his words sank in. When she realized that he was summoning an army on her behalf and that genuine help was on the horizon, a lump formed in her throat.

"My God," she breathed. "You would do this? Rally his old allies?"

St. Denis nodded. "It will be done before the end of the day," he assured her. "The missives will go out to four great warlords, men with armies in Flanders and Burgundy. There is even one from Calais. I remember that he had fields and fields of grapevines, and his family made very fine wines. I am certain they will all be devastated to hear what has happened to your father if they haven't heard already. They will want to help when the situation is explained to them."

Athdara was still blinking away tears. "I wish I knew their names," she said. "My father never much spoke of his past in battle, mostly because he said it hurt him to remember friends lost. He spoke of you often, and of another lord in Arras who died several years ago. I did not know the names of anyone else."

"You do not need to," St. Denis said. "You sought my help. That is enough."

Athdara was overcome. She simply nodded, smiling at the man when he realized he'd made her emotional. She chuckled, embarrassed, as she wiped at the tears that had pooled in her eyes.

"Thank you," she whispered. "There is no way I can repay you for this kindness, but I thank you most sincerely."

St. Denis patted her hand before turning to his trainers, who now knew the entire situation and in what direction it was heading. He pointed to Athdara.

"Train her," he commanded. "Right now, she is the most important recruit at Blackchurch, and you will teach her what you can for the time she is here."

No one seemed to react overtly, but inside, most of them were twitching with impatience. They didn't like the privileged, and most especially not a woman who'd had special treatment. They were all men who had earned their way in life, and they expected those they trained to do the same. To be worthy.

Hopefully, Tay was correct and she was worthy. Time would tell.

"How much time do we have, my lord?" Fox asked.

St. Denis thought on that. "I do not expect to hear any response from any of my missives for at least three months," he said. "You have that time. Tay is in charge of the lady's training, so he will tell you when you are needed and for how long. Consider this a personal favor to me, good lords. When next you are paid, there will be something extra in it for your efforts."

A pay bonus was never a bad thing. The trainers started glancing at one another, to see how others were reacting, and most of them simply shrugged in resignation. This was something they were going to do, and they were to be paid for it. No one could complain much.

Without any further questions or concerns, St. Denis headed out of the hall, with Aamir following behind. A few of the others began to trickle out, but Fox and Sinclair and Ming Tang remained behind. Sinclair de Reyne, or "Sin," as he was known, rubbed his hands together as he faced Tay.

"This sounds like a challenge," he said, glancing at the lady. "But mostly, I am eager to hear how she forced you to submit during an exercise."

Tay closed his eyes and hung his head. "Nay, you do not."

Sinclair fought off a grin as he looked to Athdara. "My lady?" he said. "Will you tell me what you did to subdue our Leviathan?"

Athdara's gaze drifted over the man with the mischievous gleam to his eye. "You are the trainer known as the Swordsman?"

"I am, my lady."

"If I were to subdue you, would you want me to tell your friends how I did it?"

Fox burst into soft laughter as Sinclair shook his head. "Nay, my lady, I would not," he said. Then he thrust up his chin. "I can see that I shall get nowhere with her. I must say that I am grossly insulted, too, but I will keep that to myself, lest she best me in a fight and Tay comes around asking foolish questions."

With that, he headed out, but there was humor in the air. He wasn't truly insulted. Fox, who still didn't seem all that sure about the lady, lingered for a moment, looking her over, before heading out after Sinclair. That left Ming Tang and Tay, both of whom turned to Athdara.

"Well," Tay said, "I suppose we should settle you in before you begin your training. Have you eaten yet today?"

Athdara shook her head. "I returned just as the recruits were taking the field, so I have not."

"Are you hungry?"

"Verily."

Tay looked to Ming Tang. "Will you come with us? I have not eaten either."

But Ming Tang shook his head. "Nay," he said. "I have some advanced recruits that I will be tending in a little while, so I have things to accomplish before that happens. Lady Athdara, I look forward to knowing you. It has been an honor, daughter of a duke."

Athdara smiled at the man with the genuinely polite manner. "It has been my honor as well," she said. "Will you tell me more of your home sometime? I should like to hear of its beauty."

Ming Tang bowed slightly. "I will be happy to tell you."

With that, he headed out of the hall, leaving Tay and Athdara to follow behind. Once they quit the longhouse, Ming Tang went one direction and they went in another.

Overhead, fat clouds were rolling in, and the smell of rain was on the air, but that wasn't unusual. Rain was a frequent companion in Devon.

"Where are we going?" Athdara asked, looking over her shoulder. "The training ground is back that way."

Tay pointed ahead. "We are going to eat something, and then we will collect your possessions from the cloister," he said. "I will settle you in the village, since you will not be training with the recruits. There is no reason for you to stay in the cloister with them."

"Where will I stay?"

"With me."

She came to a halt and looked at him. "With you?" she repeated, frowning. "What does that mean?"

He lifted a dark eyebrow. "It means you will be staying in my cottage," he said. "It is big, and there are plenty of chambers. There is no reason for you to go elsewhere when I have the room."

She didn't move, and her furrowed brow deepened. "I may have lived the life of a wanderer, sleeping in stables and cloisters with other men about, but it was not by choice. It was purely survival. It would be quite improper for me to stay in your cottage, unchaperoned, given the choice."

"Very well," he said. "Then you shall have a choice. The cloister or my cottage."

She sighed sharply. "I'll choose the stable."

"That was not a choice."

She threw up her hands. "What will everyone think when they hear I am lodging in your cottage?" she said. "They will think I am a harlot!"

She was becoming quite irate, and Tay understood why. She was absolutely correct, but he was reluctant to admit it. He didn't see anything wrong with her in one room and him in another, but that was foolish of him. He knew that. He was trying not to be offended by her resistance.

"Do not flatter yourself," he said. "It is purely for convenience. Lord Exmoor has made you my ward, and that means I am responsible for your protection, training, and safety. That is why you will stay with me, but if it is so horrific to you, I will find a female servant to be your attendant and chaperone so no one will think you are a whore. Will that be satisfactory?"

Now Athdara was offended. Flattering herself, was she? Big, handsome Tay evidently didn't have designs on her, and she didn't blame him. She was filthy and smelly and had been sleeping with men all around her. Why on earth would he find her attractive? Of course he didn't.

Somehow, she was vastly disappointed.

"Aye," she said glumly. "That is acceptable."

"Good," he said, eyeing her with exasperation. "I'll find a female servant on the morrow and be done with this idiocy."

Athdara threw a thumb over her shoulder, in the general direction of The Black Cock. "A dreg whom I've come to know got a job as a serving wench at The Black Cock," she said. "I am sure she would rather come here and be with me. She would make a good chaperone."

"Who?"

"The big woman I was with the night we met," Athdara said.

Tay remembered the woman. "Tall? With dark hair?"

"Aye."

"Fine," he said. "I will send someone to town and summon her."

"I can go just as easily," Athdara said. "I do not wish to put you to any trouble."

Tay rolled his eyes. Then he reached out and grabbed her hand. "Trouble," he muttered. "That is all you have been."

Athdara could have taken that as his aversion to her, but she didn't. Something in his warm, powerful grip told her that he was feeling anything but an aversion.

Truth be told, so was she.