Brides With Blades Read online

  “Do you really believe that?”

  “I do.”

  “She will not try to escape this marriage before it can be completed?”

  “I dunna believe so. Tae do that would bring ye shame, and Penny wouldna knowingly bring ye shame.”

  William accepted that. His daughter was honorable above all else. But she was also stubborn and disobedient, as the current situation displayed.

  “She should be here, with you,” he said, some displeasure in his tone. “I told her to retire early because tomorrow we meet her future husband.”

  Jordan was aware of the directive. “English,” she said, somewhat admonishingly, “ye have raised her with yer own sense of duty. She is a young and beautiful woman, that is true, but inside that lovely façade beats her father’s heart. She is the daughter of The Wolfe and ye canna deny her what comes naturally. I told ye she wouldna shirk her duties; therefore, she has taken the night watch. If ye want her tae come tae bed, then ye must go out and bring her in.”

  William knew that but it did not nothing to ease his mounting frustration. With a growl, he raked his fingers through his graying dark hair, a gesture of aggravation.

  “Why is it that all of the women in my family seem intent to disobey me?” he asked. “Nothing on this journey is going as I had planned. I did not want you to come, yet you are here. Because Kieran and his sons came, Jemma had to come. Now I have womenfolk tagging along where there should be none.”

  Jordan’s voice was soft. “Jemma is here tae ease Kevin.”

  William frowned. “Kevin is a grown man,” he said. “He must come to accept that the woman he wants is meant for another and nothing his mother can do will change it. You know I have nothing but respect for Kevin and his abilities as both man and knight, but Penelope is not meant for him. He will have to find a wife elsewhere.”

  Jordan sighed faintly, lowering her gaze and looking at the smoldering fire. She felt very sorry for her cousin’s son; Jemma was her closest kin, more of a sister to her than a cousin. They had grown up together and had married Englishmen who had served together. Therefore, she was particularly sympathetic to Jemma’s son’s sorrow.

  “He has been in love with her since she was a bairn,” she murmured. “Ye canna change how the man feels.”

  William’s frown deepened. “And you do not approve of my offering Penny in marriage to another?” he asked, his jaw ticking. “Is that why you have truly come? To make sure I know of your disapproval with this match?”

  Jordan’s eyes moved to him again. “There is no disapproval to be had,” she said. “I support whatever decision ye make and well ye know it. But Jemma is here tae comfort Kevin, who also happens to be riding escort intae Wales tae deliver the woman he loves tae another man, and I am here tae make sure Penelope behaves herself. Do ye disagree with my logic?”

  He calmed somewhat, though it was reluctant. “Nay,” he grumbled, turning away. “You are the only one who has any chance of controlling her. I never could.”

  “That is because ye spoiled her, English,” Jordan said softly. “Ye love her too much. I know this marriage was a difficult decision for ye. I know ye dunna want tae let her go.”

  He was less agitated now, now leaning towards depression. “She is my baby,” he murmured. “Of course I do not want to let her go yet I know I must. This marital contract… she is worthy of it. I would not have pledged her had I not thought so.”

  Jordan rose from her stool and went to him, putting her arms around her big, strong husband who, with the years, had seen his emotions run rampant with his children. He was such a good father, doting and wise and kind, but he was deep and irrevocably emotionally invested in all of his children. The mighty Wolf of the Border had one weakness and one weakness only; his outlook on life was directly related to his children, and mostly to his wife. He couldn’t do without any of them, yet it was inevitable that he had to. Children grew up, and parents grew old. He hated that fact of life.

  “I know,” Jordan said softly. “Now, go out and find her and bring her back. She must sleep for a time. She will meet her future husband tomorrow and must look her best.”

  “She will hate you for saying so.”

  Jordan grinned, giving him a hug before letting him go. “Find her, English. Be swift about it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because there is every chance that Kevin is with her, trying to talk her into running off with him.”

  William rolled his eyes as he dutifully quit the tent. He knew his wife wasn’t far wrong with what she had said and he couldn’t help the sense of urgency that suddenly gripped him.

  Kevin Hage was much like his wise and powerful father; if he wanted something, he would not give up.

  *

  “The moonlight is so bright that it is nearly day.”

  Penelope was gazing up at the moon, listening to the knight beside her speak of it. It was white and brilliant against the dark expanse of sky, and she nodded at his assessment.

  “It nearly hurts my eyes to look at it,” she said. Then, she looked at the landscape surrounding them, the silver-cast fields and distant trees. “It makes everything ghostly and glowing. This whole land seems very surreal. Can you feel it?”

  Sir Kevin Hage wasn’t looking at the landscape; he was looking at Penelope. She was all he ever looked at, and had since he had been a youth and had spent hours upon hours with Penelope as she had trained alongside the young men of Castle Questing.

  Even at a young age she had been smart, determined, and tough, and as William and Kieran and Paris’ sons had fostered together, Penelope, the youngest of William’s nine children, had been allowed to tag along. Kevin, only eight years older than she was, found himself taking her under his wing. He and Penelope had been through a lot together, suffering both hardship and triumph, and over the years Kevin’s sense of brotherly protectiveness turned into something else.

  Now, he couldn’t remember when he hadn’t loved her and this journey into Wales was difficult for him. He tried not to think about what lay at the end of the voyage but now, as it would end tomorrow when Penelope was presented to the Welsh prince known as The Serpent, he realized this would be his last night alone with her. It tore at him like nothing he had ever known and he wanted to make this a night they would both remember forever; he simply wasn’t sure how to do it without crossing lines and violating trust. There were things he wanted to say and things he wanted to do, now eight years in the making. Trouble was, he didn’t want to get slugged for either effort, so he struggled to focus on a benign and meaningless conversation instead.

  “Aye,” he said, tearing his gaze away from her and looking out over the glistening gray land. “I feel it. It is Wales, a place wrought of demons and wild men.”

  Penelope looked at him; Kevin was an enormous man, like his father, with broad shoulders and big arms, but he had his mother’s coloring in his green eyes and dark hair. He was quite handsome, and he most definitely had his father’s temperament, rather calm and sedate.

  “I have never heard of demons in Wales,” she said. “But I have heard of mysterious creatures and of strange magic. Uncle Paris once told me that the Northmen brought their magic with them and left it here long ago. He told me a story once about a Welsh enchantress who could change form at will.”

  Kevin snorted. “Uncle Paris likes to tell stories.”

  “You do not believe in magic, Kevin?”

  Kevin fought off a grin as he looked at her. He didn’t want to seem condescending. “I believe in what I can see or taste or feel. If there is magic in this world, I have yet to truly see it.”

  Penelope clawed a hand at him. “Be still, else I will turn you into a fish and throw you into the marsh over near those trees.”

  His grin broke through. “So you think yourself a witch, do you?”

  Penelope lowered the hand and giggled. “Nay, I am not a witch,” she said, her smile fading as she gazed upon the silvery landscape of the unfamiliar country. “If I was, then I would cast a spell so that I would not have to marry The Serpent. Why is he called The Serpent, anyway? Can no one tell me this?”

  It was difficult for Kevin to bite his tongue. “He is said to be a great warrior and a great commander,” he said, feeling his heart tug with sorrow. “He is called The Serpent because his strike is deadly. He was at Llandeilo in the battle where we lost your brother, James. We were told he masterminded the battle. It was a vicious fight, to be sure.”

  Penelope looked at him, sadness in her expression as she remembered that terrible time. “James died in Papa’s arms,” she murmured. “Papa has not yet recovered from it.”

  Kevin nodded faintly. “Nor I,” he said. “James was a good friend. I miss him every day.”

  Penelope thought on her tall, blond brother a moment. “That is why Papa has brokered this marriage,” she said, sounding as if she were trying to talk herself into the favor of the situation. “He does not want to lose another son in battle against the Welsh. I understand his logic although it does not make me happy to be the peace offering. Why could he not offer your sister, Rose? Why must it be me?”

  Kevin had asked himself that same question a dozen times although he knew the answer. “Because you are the daughter of The Wolfe,” he said simply. “Rose is the daughter of a mere knight. It would not have the same impact.”

  Penelope knew that. She grunted unhappily. “But Rose wants to remarry after James died last year,” she said. “She would make a much more willing bride than I do.”

  Kevin was silent, his gaze moving out over the marsh to the north. “Do you not want children and a family of your own someday?”

  He should not have asked it because the answer, either way, would hurt him. Still, he had foolishly asked. Penelope’s lips twisted wryly.

  “I would not know how to be a good wife,” she said. “I have never had an interest in such things. Katheryn and Evelyn did, but not me. Never me.”

  Kevin glanced at her, studying her glorious beauty in the moonlight and thinking of William and Jordan’s two other daughters. Katheryn, the eldest, was in Jordan’s image, blond and lovely, while Evelyn, the second daughter, took after the Scots side of the family with her pale skin and red hair. Penelope, however, was all William; she had his dark brown hair and hazel-gold eyes, giving her a most striking countenance.

  It was widely accepted that Penelope was the most beautiful out of all of The Wolfe’s daughters except for the unfortunate habit she had of dressing, and generally acting, like a knight. It was that lifestyle that her mother had been fearful of, but one Kevin understood completely. He wondered if The Serpent would understand, too. After a moment’s reflection of a marriage to the woman he loved that would never be, he sighed sadly and looked away.

  “Your marriage will be more prestigious than your sisters’,” he said, trying to sound positive when all he really wanted to do was beg her not to do it. “Katheryn married my older brother and Evelyn married Hector, but neither one of them will marry a warlord with such great stature. It is something you should be proud of.”

  Penelope opened her mouth to speak but something in the distance caught her attention. There seemed to be something moving in the shadows of the marsh, something she couldn’t quite make out. It seemed to flicker and roll, and just as she narrowed her eyes to get a better look at it, it quickly vanished. Thinking it was a trick of the moonlight, she returned her attention to Kevin only to see her father strolling up in the darkness.

  “Greetings, Papa,” she said as William approached. “All is well.”

  William came upon the pair, glancing at Kevin to see if he could determine the course of the conversation and the mood in the air, but Kevin met his gaze steadily. There was nothing in his expression suggesting anything other than a normal situation and William was relieved.

  “That is good to know,” he said, pausing as his gaze moved out over the ghostly landscape. It was indeed still and quiet. After a moment, he looked at his daughter. “Leave the night watch to Kevin. You must get some sleep. You have an important day ahead of you.”

  Penelope frowned. “I will retire soon,” she said, trying to ignore her father now that she knew why he had come. “A few more hours and I will come to bed.”

  “Nay,” William said, more firmly. “You will come now. Kevin can handle the north perimeter. Scott and Troy are off to the west while the rest of the knights are spread out. You are not needed.”

  Penelope’s frown deepened. “Papa, truly, I am not tired in the least,” she insisted. “I do not want….”

  She was cut off by an unearthly howl that came from the direction of the marsh. It was so loud that it literally reverberated off of the trees, tents, or anything else that happened to provide a measure of sound resistance. Penelope whirled in the direction of the marsh, as did Kevin and William. Penelope was armed, as was Kevin, and the broadswords came out.

  It had been a terrible and shattering sound, one that sent hearts to racing with apprehension. In this vast and unfamiliar land, it was an unwelcome and unsettling noise. They stood there, watching and waiting, as the entire camp began to stir.

  “What was that?” Penelope asked, rather breathlessly.

  William was characteristically calm, his one good eye scrutinizing the moonlit lands. He slowly shook his head.

  “I do not know,” he said. “A creature of some kind, I suppose. Hopefully the fires will keep it away.”

  Penelope looked at her father with some fear in her expression. “A creature?” she repeated. “I have never heard any creature make that kind of noise.”

  William wasn’t inclined to get worked up about it; the man was not easily spooked. He had learned long ago not to get agitated over things he could not control.

  “If it shows itself, then we shall know what it is,” he said, his gaze lingering on the marshy area a moment longer before returning to his daughter. “Meanwhile, you will come with me and get some sleep. If you resist me, know that I will carry you over my shoulder.”

  Penelope still had her sword up in front of her, defensively. The otherworldly howl still had the hair on the back of her neck on end. Before she could respond to her father, she could see a pair of men making their way towards them from the darkness of the camp. The first face she could make out was Kieran, looking as if he had just awoken from a deep sleep. He slept heavily and long these days, an old man whose health had seen better times. Next to him came another familiar face, a big and handsome man with graying blond hair. Penelope fixed on him.

  “Did you hear that noise, Uncle Paris?” she asked eagerly. “Could that be the creatures you have told me lurk in these lands? The ones that followed the Northmen here those centuries ago?”

  Sir Paris de Norville scratched his head as he glanced at William; William and Paris had been the best of friends since their days as squires, having served in the north and fought against the Scots side by side for more years than they cared to remember. Closer than brothers, they could generally read each other’s minds. At the moment, Paris was fairly certain that William was unhappy with him for filling Penelope’s head with wild tales of Wales. He tried not to look too guilty.

  “It was an interesting sound, to be sure,” Paris said, avoiding her question. “We thought we heard it come from this direction.”

  William nodded. “I believe so.”

  “You did not see anything?”

  “Nay.”

  All eyes were trained on the marsh beneath the full moon. Paris pointed in the direction of the swampy and dark lands. “I saw a small lake to the north of the marsh when we rode in,” he said. “There is not much land in that direction. It all seems to be water.”

  Kieran came to stand next to his son as Paris and William tried to calm Penelope. She had been trained as a knight, that was true, but she tended to get excited due to her young and passionate nature. As Kieran and Kevin scanned the silvery landscape for any hint of what might have made such a terrible sound, it was Kevin who finally spotted the source. He pointed a big finger towards the north.

  “Father?” he said to Kieran, struggling to maintain a calm demeanor. “Do you see that?”

  Kieran, old as he was, still had sharp eyesight. He was starting to see what his son was pointing at and he didn’t like it one bit. At first, he wasn’t sure he was seeing clearly but as the thing began to move and its form became clearer in the moonlight, Kieran fought down a sense of shock. He could hardly believe his eyes.

  “Aye,” he muttered. “What in the hell is it?”

  “I do not know.”

  Kieran gazed at the sight a moment longer before turning to William, his expression grim. “How far is Rhydilian Castle from here?”

  By now, William, Paris, and Penelope were also straining to catch a glimpse of what had Kieran and Kevin’s attention. They all saw it at nearly the same time, a very large and horrific vision that seemed to displace entire mounds of earth and swamp as it moved. Water sloshed and trees were uprooted in its path. It was, in truth, a terrifying and startling sight, and quite difficult to comprehend.

  “Too far,” William growled. Still, he was on the move. “Too far but we have no choice. Rouse the camp and tell them to take only what they can carry on horseback. Leave everything else behind. Knights will hang back and form a line to give the others time to reach the castle. Kieran, Kevin; move.”

  He didn’t even wait for the men to swing into action, knowing that they would without question. As Penelope stood there, eyes wide and mouth agape, William grabbed her and pulled her away with him.

  The last thing Penelope heard as her father hurried her across the camp was another horrifying, unearthly howl, this one closer than the last. It was coming for them, this nightmare from the mysterious lands of the Welsh, looming closer and closer, perhaps attracted by the smell of human flesh. It was difficult to know why it came, only that it had, and all Penelope could think about was reaching her mother. She couldn’t even think about herself; all she knew was that she had to get her mother to safety.