Chapter Three

G arrick's anguished cry was echoed by his brother. He reined in his destrier one-handed. It reared up on its hind legs. In a fluid motion, he swung his legs over the saddle, landed on his feet, and broke into a dead run.

As he took the steps to the platform two at a time, anger and fear pumped through him, enabling him to wield his broadsword one-handed. He could hear Dunstan clamoring up behind him. His only brother now that Roderick—he couldn't finish the thought—shook his head to fight against the white-hot rage burning deep within him.

The second his boots hit the platform, he cut through the knotted rope in one smooth slice. Dear God, first Father, now my brother? Tilting his head back, closing his eyes, Garrick's already frayed emotions snapped. His eyes opened to a vision of death washed in crimson. The stench of it clung to the unwashed body cradled in his brother's arms.

Pain lanced clear through to his soul. He could not bring himself to look upon the contorted face of his youngest brother. For the first time in his life, he grew weak headed, the thought of his brother gasping for air…the strength of the rope…

He pushed the grim thought aside. His mind clung to the past, not willing to let go of the well-remembered vision of a young adoring face with laughing gray eyes. He held fast to the memory, tucking it away. It was all he had left.

Acute agony left a gaping wound in Garrick's already bleeding soul. He'd avenge his brother, as he'd not been able to avenge their father. Throwing his head back, he bellowed the ancient Saxon battle cry that had echoed through the hills for centuries.

He vaulted from his high perch and hit the ground running. Eyeing a group of surprised onlookers, he grabbed the only well-dressed man among them. Holding the tip of his sword to the wildly pulsating skin at the base of the man's throat, Garrick demanded, "Where is he?"

The poor man shook with terror as he bravely asked, "Who?"

Garrick pressed the tip of his blade with enough finesse to prick the man's skin, until a drop of blood welled up. "Owen of Sedgeworth, Lord of this Keep. By all that is holy, if you do not tell me, I'll kill you where you stand!"

Garrick heard the commotion behind him, but ignored it, focusing on the man beneath his blade.

Shakily pointing, the man blurted out, "My Lord Owen is in the great hall breaking his fast."

Garrick lowered his blade sprinting toward the timbered building, bellowing Owen's name.

"Wait," Dunstan called out. "It's not him! It's not Roderick!"

Garrick held his sword to an overweight, richly dressed man's belly. His mind registered the fact that the man's family and an entire household of servants watched. The pain of Roderick's death blocked it out.

Keeping tight control of his battered emotions, he concentrated on the Lord of the Keep. He could grieve later. He would have revenge now. "If I do not get the answers I seek, I'll run you through."

"Garrick." The tone of command in Dunstan's voice cleared the red haze engulfing him. He looked blindly toward the sound of his brother's voice.

A sobbing woman fell to her knees in front of Dunstan. "Please, milord, don't let that man kill my husband!" Pointing an accusing finger at Garrick, she continued, "My husband is a good man, a fair man."

"Fair?" Garrick shouted, "Do you call hanging an innocent man fair?"

"As overlord of these people and the land surrounding it, I deliver justice daily," Owen said. "I caught Delbert stealing my prized stallion and two of my brood mares!" His face visibly tightened with anger. "He has stolen from me for the last time."

Garrick slowly turned to face his brother. "Delbert?"

At Dunstan's calmly controlled look, Garrick froze and looked behind him, knowing something was not as it should be. Owen's guard had surrounded him without him realizing it. One face stood out among them. Though MacInness gave no outward sign of recognition, Garrick read it in the man's fierce gaze.

Unanswered questions churned within him. Had MacInness changed his mind, or would he still aid their cause to free his brother? But a more important question had his stomach flipping over: Had he let his emotions rage out of control, feeding his thirst for revenge?

Damn my mother's people and their unwanted curse—a Viking's bloodlust—a Berserker, one so caught up in the killing that he is blinded to it…

God's blood! Had he almost exacted revenge without cause? His gaze quickly scanned the room. He almost killed the man who stood before him… an innocent man. Garrick's blood froze and his stomach bottomed out. A quick glance at Dunstan and Garrick knew what his brother was thinking. A shared memory of father pitted against son mirrored their pain. Once again it was the younger brother silently questioning the elder with a look of agony. God, would he never be freed from the past?

Pushing those memories aside, Garrick watched the Lady of Sedgeworth, kneeling before his brother. Her face lined with pain. He remembered well the look. It had been on their mother's face the day she had stood waving good-bye to their father. Had she known it would be for the last time?

He watched Dunstan help the woman to her feet and pry the linen square from her tightly clenched hands in order to dry her eyes. Gratitude replaced the look of fear in her eyes. Lady Haldana graced his brother with a smile that lit up her rather pale features transforming her to a woman of rare beauty, not unlike their mother. Had his brother been reminded of their mother as well?

A movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. As the guard closed in on him, Garrick noted all of the warriors had their hands on the hilt of their swords. Would MacInness tip his hand now, or would Garrick be taken prisoner as well for show?

Owen cleared his throat to speak, and Garrick decided to let the other lord think the warriors surrounding Garrick intimidated him. He sheathed his sword and with it his Viking's rage. The sound of steel brushing against leather broke the silence. Brother looked to brother; their bond unbreakable.

Ignoring the ten grim-faced warriors surrounding him, he spoke quietly, "I am Garrick of Merewood." He turned and nodded in his brother's direction, "My brother, Dunstan. We have been summoned here with news that our brother was to hang this day. Mayhap we were misinformed."

Owen's stance relaxed and he waved his guard aside. They moved to flank MacInness, and he saw a brief glint of triumph in the Scot's eyes.

A soft sound from behind Garrick distracted him while the familiar wisp of wildflowers beckoned to his already heightened senses. Breathing deeply, he spun around and felt the heart stop in his chest. Auburn tendrils curled against cream-colored skin. His hands itched to reach out and capture an errant curl, trace the line of her jaw. Would her hair feel soft, her skin feel of silk?

The woman was too beautiful to be real. He blinked, but she did not vanish. Her full lips were parted as if to speak. The wood sprite's eyes were wide, but was it fear he saw in their warm brown depths?

She flushed, her skin resembling a ripe, sweet peach. He wanted to press his lips to hers. Pinpricks of awareness blossomed into a fiery arc that flashed back and forth between them.

Their gazes locked and held. His, clear and bright with challenge, bore into hers, wary and dark with uncertainty. She captivated him.

Her gaze turned from rapt to haunted, and it was then he recognized the depth of his own pain mirrored back at him. His aching heart reached out to hers, and their tattered souls connected, joining them with invisible strands of hope. As his eyes focused, he saw fiery curls cascading down her back as the vision tilted her head up to look at him.

"You came!" Her voice was low, husky.

His mind reeled. Who was she? How did she know him?

Whoever she was, she was definitely a temptation he could ill afford. There were debts to be paid, and a lady to find, before he could give into the weakness that suddenly burned within him.

The lady of the keep called out to the young woman, "Jillian!"

Stunned, he stared down at her. "Lady Jillian?" He agreed to marry her? Desire's heat intensified as he imagined sealing sacred vows with the exquisite beauty standing before him.

Lady Haldana's voice turned shrill. Snapping back to attention, he wondered what the lass had done to cause the elder lady such displeasure. He was not left to wonder long.

"You will see to the preparation of our midday repast. When you are through, you may continue with your duties." With the wave of a milk-white hand, the lady of the keep dismissed her.

Without another word, Lady Jillian turned to do as she was bid. Left with no other choice but to follow their plan, he cleared his throat, and his mind. Turning to Owen, he asked, "May we have a word with you in private?"

The man studied Garrick and his brother before agreeing, "This way."

When MacInness moved to follow, Owen shook his head. "I can handle this alone."

Garrick watched the tall Scot and his men file out of the hall and a thought occurred to him as he remembered the daughters of the keep. Turning back around, he saw a knowing smile simultaneously light the five rather pretty faces that now surrounded him and his brother. "You're Roderick's brothers?" the shortest one asked.

"Oh, doesn't he look just like them?"

"That one is so handsome," another added.

"They are all so handsome."

Garrick's head began to swim.

"I rather like the quiet one, then again—"

"Silence!" Owen's tone held a warning note, but his daughters completely ignored him. "See to your mother," he ordered them. This time they obeyed, though not without muttered protestations.

"Garrick, Dunstan, if you would join me in my chamber, we can speak privately there."

Garrick followed only to stop at the sound of high-pitched feminine laughter. Turning around, he realized his brother hadn't moved. Dunstan stood surrounded by the five fair daughters of the keep. In that moment, Garrick envied his brothers and decided there would be no marriages of convenience for them. Once he had secured their future and rebuilt their family's fortune by marrying the well-propertied Lady Jillian, they could marry whomever they wished, whenever they wished.

Duty sharpened his voice, edging it with steel. "Dunstan."

His younger brother gave a heart-melting smile to all of the lovely ladies before following.

A glance over his shoulder confirmed his suspicion. Five adoring pairs of eyes stared at them as their confident strides ate up the distance between the great hall and the massive staircase.

*

Lady Haldana smiled at her daughters. "I'm pleased to note you all have the good sense the Lord granted you, recognizing men worthy of your stature in life." She paused, staring after the men. "Now if I could only convince your thick-headed father of young Roderick's value."

Tapping her fingers to her lips, she added, "His brothers would be ideal sons-in-law. Although Roderick's not wealthy enough, in these troubled times, a strong warrior must also be considered."

Walking toward the circle of young women, she added, "Mayhap, your father could be persuaded to let Roderick's indiscretion be forgotten." She narrowed her gaze at them, "If in the bargain we gain two powerful husbands."

Lady Haldana motioned her daughters toward the long oak table. When they finally seated themselves after the flutter of feminine primping, she began, "Now, you all know how unreasonable your father can be. As I see it, none of my darlings are ready to admit who encouraged Roderick, are they?" Silence.

"Then I am forced to either agree with your father or bargain with him. Whom shall I suggest to him as brides for Garrick and Dunstan?

*

Shocked by Lady Haldana's announcement, Jillian's breath whooshed out. She clamped her hands over her mouth. Haldana would beat her if she caught her eavesdropping.

"She cannot get away with it. Garrick and I made a bargain!" She nearly choked on the words.

Thinking back to their first meeting, she frowned. Now that he was within the keep's walls, would he still need her help? Could she trust him to keep his word?

Her stomach roiled. If she could not help him, she could not expect Garrick to keep his bargain with her. Clenching her hands into tight fists, she resolved to take matters into her own hands and free Roderick now, before Garrick had a chance to fall prey to the machinations of the lady of the keep.