Dragonblade Trilogy - 03 - The Savage Curtain (21 page)

She gazed up at him openly. “Why?
Because I am the daughter of your enemy?”

He almost looked amused. “Nay,”
he took her hand and brought it to his lips. “Because you are a lovely,
delicate woman and things involving war should not trouble you. I would have
you worry over things like the evening meal or the latest fashion, not rebels
or a burning city.  I do not want you to worry over anything serious and
deadly.”

“So you would rather have me live
in ignorance?”

He gave her a lop-sided grin. “I
would rather protect you.  You should not be burdened with the realities of
war.”

She watched him kiss her hand
gently; she could see that he was being sincere. “Although I appreciate your
desire to protect me, the truth is that war is our reality,” she told him
softly. “It is what brought us together. It is what constitutes our life. You
must not worry about protecting me; I have seen much in life. I understand the
realities of it.”

His smile faded. “But that was
before you married me. As your husband, I should like to shield you from
unsavory things. I do not want you to have a care in this world other than me
and our life together.  Does that make any sense?”

She put her hand up, touching his
freshly shaved cheek. “Of course it does,” she murmured. “But you cannot put me
in a glass house for the rest of my life. It is my nature to want to help, to
do what I can for you and those I care about. I would feel useless and bored if
my only care was what to prepare for supper or what dress I will wear
tomorrow.  Will you not let me be a true partner to you and not simply a wife
in name and body only?”

He gazed into her pale blue eyes,
feeling her sincerity, seeing a stronger, deeper side to this woman he had
married.   There was a good deal of strength in the petite little body. It made
him love her all the more. 

“I never thought to have a wife
at all much less one who wants to do more than simply carry my name,” he
murmured, kissing her fingers again. “Where should we begin?”

She smiled, rubbing her hand
against his smooth cheek.  “You can tell me who you have in the vault. If I
know him, perhaps I can tell you what I know of him. Perhaps it will help you.”

“You would betray one of your
kinsmen?”

“I would help my husband. I told
you; my loyalty became yours when we married.”

Time will tell
, Stephen thought. But he would
give her the benefit of the doubt until she proved otherwise.  His heart told
him to trust her even if his head was still reluctant.

“Kynan Lott MacKenzie,” he
finally said.

Joselyn’s pale blue eyes widened
and her mouth popped open again. “Ky?”

“He is your cousin, I believe.”

“How
did you know that?” she demanded softly.

“He
told me.”

Her mouth was still hanging
agape; she was struggling with her surprise.  Stephen watched her carefully,
analyzing her reaction.  An unbridled response would tell him a good deal about
the loyalties in her heart; Scots or her English husband.  He prayed it was the
latter; anything less would devastate him.

Joselyn closed her mouth and
blinked away her surprised expression. “Aye, he is my cousin,” she concurred.
“His mother and my mother were sisters. I saw much of him as I was growing up.”

She spoke without hesitation or
reserve which made him feel better. He did not get the sense she was hiding
anything so he moved forward.

“Tell me what you know of him,”
he asked.

She tucked her hand into his
enormous elbow and, pensively, they resumed their walk. “He is older than me,”
she said. “He was my aunt’s only child and a brother of sorts to me.”

He shook his head. “That is not
what I meant.  I meant tell me what you know of him as a fighting man.”

She shrugged. “All I know is what
I heard from my father,” she told him. “Ky commanded about five hundred
MacKenzie and McCulloch, men who my father used to attack the English on a
regular basis. If you know anything about the Clan McCulloch, then you know
they are aggressive and without fear. They will attack with rabid fury and were
the most aggressive of my father’s men. If I remember correctly, they were at
the battle of Halidon.”

His brow furrowed. “How would you
know that?”         

“I heard my father talking about
them.”

Stephen fell silent, digesting
what she had told him.
Five hundred men.
  Since the rebels had been
quite aggressive since Berwick surrendered to the English, it was possible that
Kynan’s men were involved. But MacKenzie had not confessed to that, not even
when Stephen had threatened to take his insubordination out on Joselyn.  In
fact, Kynan hadn’t been particularly helpful with anything.  Either the man was
particularly clever or he truly didn’t know anything, which Stephen found
difficult to believe.

“Do you think he has been leading
the rebel attacks?” Joselyn’s soft voice interrupted his thoughts.

He looked down at her. “It is
possible that he has some responsibility for them. But he was bottled up in the
vault during the siege yesterday and therefore had no direct involvement in
that particular incident.”

Joselyn’s brow furrowed as they
made their way to the northeast turret. Stephen could see Ian in the distance,
standing tall and lanky near the dark tower, and he was distracted.  But
Joselyn’s thoughts were still on her cousin, down in the depths of Berwick’s
vault.  Kynan was no fool; he was a seasoned soldier. Her father had told her
that the man was quite cunning. 

“Have you asked him what he
knows?” she asked.

Stephen’s focus shifted off of
Ian and back to Kynan as he thought of the two days of interrogation and the
sparse information it had brought forth in spite of their best tactics.

“Aye.”

“Has he told you anything
useful?”

“I would not worry about that if
I were you.”

It was his way of telling her
that it was none of her affair; she had figured that out quickly.  But she
persisted.

“Would you like me to find out if
he knows anything more?” she asked, so soft he barely heard her.

He came to a halt and peered at
her as if she had lost her mind. “What?” It was all he could think to say.

She faced him with waning
confidence; the look his eye was not one of agreement. “I asked if you would
like for me to find out,” she offered again. “He might tell me things he would
not tell you.”

Stephen stared at her a moment
before his brow furrowed in disbelief. “Jo-Jo, although I appreciate your
offer, my answer is a resounding nay,” he told her, almost sternly. “I would
not be so unscrupulous as to use my own wife for subversive means.”

Her mouth twisted with the
rejection, thinking on how to explain what it was she was suggesting. “I know
you would not,” she said quickly. “You are wise and moral man. But if there is
a chance my cousin will confide in me what he knows about the rebel activities,
then will you not at least consider it?”

“No,” he said flatly, noticing
that Ian had seen him in the distance and lifted an arm to him. “Come along; I
still have rounds to make.”

“Stephen, wait,” she grabbed hold
of his arm and dug her heels in. “I am not trying to anger you, truly, but
please consider what I am saying. If there is a chance I can get information
for you that will save lives, I am willing to do that. Berwick cannot take
another siege; she is already shattered.”

He came to a halt but his jaw was
ticking faintly as he looked at her. “Sweetheart, I appreciate your offer. I
sincerely do. But I will not involve you in things that do not concern you.”

“Do not
concern
me?” she
repeated, incensed. “Of course they concern me. Every time you lift your sword
for a battle, it concerns me.  Every time an innocent person dies as the result
of men who do not know when they are defeated, it concerns me.  Many men died
as a result of this latest siege. If I can help you prevent another occurrence,
you should at least let me try.”

“Is
this what you meant by offering to help?
Her lovely brow scrunched up and she half shrugged, half nodded. “Aye, I
suppose it was. I have been offering to help you since practically the hour we
were married. This is something I believe I can truly help you with.  I know
Kynan will talk to me.”

He grunted and turned away from
her, unwilling to agree with her.  But Joselyn remained fixed in place as he
walked away, feeling her anguish rise, unable to fathom why he was being so
stubborn.

“Do you not understand, husband?”
she called after him. “It is your life I am trying to save.”

Her words were nearly shouted. 
Stephen came to an unsteady halt, sighed heavily, and turned around to face
her.  She was about twenty feet away, standing there with tears in her eyes. He
could see them.  With another sigh, this one of regret, he retraced his steps,
watching her wipe away the errant tears before he came too close.  He was
staunchly, absolutely against what she was suggesting. He did not want her
involved in the dirty dealings of war and politics. But her offer was both
noble and brave.  It impressed him.  By the time he reached her, he couldn’t
think of anything else to do but reach out and pull her against him.  She threw
her arms around his waist and squeezed him tightly.

“Jo-Jo,” he murmured into the top
of her head, kissing it. “Sweetheart, you are very courageous and selfless to
make such an offer. I understand you are trying to help. But I would keep you
as far away from war and politics as I can. I do not want you involved in such
things. Do you not understand that I am trying to protect you?”

She looked up at him, her pale
blue eyes watery. “And do you not understand that I am fearful that the next
raid might bring about your death? You are the Guardian Protector of Berwick,
Stephen. It would be a great victory for the Scots to kill you and I simply
cannot stomach the thought.”

He smiled gently at her. “They
are not going to kill me.”

She shook her head and shoved her
face into his chest. “You cannot know that.  You cannot know the errant arrow
or hidden dagger that would claim your life.”

He held her close. “That is
true,” he agreed softly. “But I have managed to stay alive for thirty-seven
years and have become quite good at it.”

She didn’t like his attempt at
humor. “All my life,” she murmured against his tunic. “All my life I have been
haunted with sorrow and bad fortune. I never even imagined I would ever marry
much less marry a man who has accepted me as I am. I know happiness now that I
never dreamed possible.” She lifted her head to look at him. “If I lost you
there would be nothing left to live for. I would throw myself from the
battlements and never doubt for a moment that it was the right thing to do. I
could not live without you by my side.”

The smile had faded from his face
as he gazed deep into her pure blue eyes.  He gently cupped her face in his
enormous hands, studying her, feeling her passion and sincerity that touched
him deeply.

“You would do me a greater honor
by continuing to live your life in dignity and wisdom,” he murmured. “For
everyone to see that Pembury’s wife was a lady of strength and honor would do
me the greatest glory. I could ask for no better legacy.”

As he watched, her eyes filled
with tears and her lower lip trembled.  “I would not want to live without you.”

He kissed her nose. “But you
would. I would ask this of you as a fitting tribute to our love.”

“Will you please let me help
you?”

“I am deeply appreciative of your
offer but again I must decline.”

She began to cry softly and he
rocked her gently, cradling her against him.   The sun was almost completely
down and the city below was alive with cooking fires.  He let his gaze settle
on the city a moment as he held his wife, immersing himself in her warmth and
softness. She was such a sweet, delightful creature and he was very sorry she
was upset.  But he would not, under any circumstances, grant her request, as
difficult as it had been for him to deny her.

Soft footsteps came from behind
him and he turned slightly to see Ian standing there, uncertain.  The young
knight cleared his throat softly.

“My lord,” he said timidly,
eyeing Lady Pembury buried in her husband’s arms. “The posts have reported in.
Will you hear the information?”

Stephen nodded, preparing to
gently release his wife when she suddenly pulled free, turning her back on the
men so she could compose herself.

“Go ahead,” she said. “I shall
wait here for you and enjoy the views of the city.”         

Stephen’s gaze lingered on her.
“I will be a brief moment.”

She nodded, wiping at her eyes.  
As she took a few deep breaths for calm and focused on the city below, Stephen
and Ian moved several feet away, locked in quiet discussion.  The more they
inched away, the more Joselyn inched in the other direction. She kept turning
around to glance at her husband to see if he had noticed.   He was quite a
distance away, listening seriously to Ian’s report.  When he turned his back on
her completely, Joselyn silently made her way back towards the gatehouse.  It
did not matter if he had denied her or not; she knew she had to do as she must.