Rise of the Defender (6 page)

     “You could use him, Chris,” he said softly.
“Lioncross will do well with your men-at-arms establishing themselves here.
Your presence will be known to all.

     “I need no one with me in London, even you,”
Christopher replied. “Richard asked this task of me and me alone.”

     “What Richard asked was for you to keep an
eye on his brother and report back to him,” David hissed. “For all purposes, Christopher,
you are a spy, a royal plant. Should John discover this, he will execute you as
an enemy of the crown.”

     Christopher snorted. “He cannot. He has not
the authority.”

     “You saw how he has established himself in
London,” David persisted, at a loss to understand his brother’s attitude. “He
has done everything but declared himself king. He rules England, not Richard.”

     Christopher’s eyes flashed at his brother. “Richard
is our king,” he said slowly. “Whatever I do in London, I do it for our
sovereign lord. John has no power over me. My orders come directly from
Richard.”

     David shook his head faintly, not knowing
what else to say. “As you say, Lion’s Claw. I can only hope that you are not
the one to be gored.”

     Christopher looked at his brother a long
moment. Then he smiled. “You worry like an old woman, little brother.”

     David shrugged. “I do not know why I even
bother. You always do what you want to, anyway.”

     Christopher’s jocularity faded. “Not in
this case,” he glanced at Lioncross. “To obtain this mighty fortress, I must do
something I most definitely do not want to do.”

     “Marry Lady Dustin?” David smiled.  “Why
not, Chris? Jesus Christ, she’s beautiful. Big tits, too.”

     Christopher cocked an eyebrow. “Does she? I
didn’t notice. In fact, I can’t seem to get pass all that hair. She’s got
enough hair for three women.”

     David nodded seductively.  “Think about it,
Chris, all of that hair flowing over you as she mounts you.”

     Christopher waved his brother off. “I get
the picture. She’s so damn small that I will probably tear her asunder. Not the
most auspicious way to begin a marriage.”

     David laughed heartily and Christopher
joined him for a few moments, chuckling at Dustin’s expense.

     “On second thought, Chris, maybe I will
stay here,” David snickered. “’Twill be a pleasure to watch after my brother's
wife, the poor lonely woman.”

     Christopher s amusement vanished. “You will
not touch her. Is that clear?”

     David was taken aback by the tone and by
the deadly flicker in his brother’s eye. He was suddenly very curious about the
sudden burst of husbandly protectiveness. The only person Christopher was
passionate about was Richard, and himself. Strange that his new bride would
provoke that kind of a response.

     “Aye, verily,” he said. “It was only a
jest.”

     Christopher was embarrassed for his
outburst and looked away, wondering why in the hell he had done it. He was a
reasonable man and deduced that he was naturally protective of Lady Dustin for
obvious reasons.  Firstly, she was his chattel. Secondly, she was a weaker
female and fell under the category of knightly chivalry. Any other reason
disturbed him too much.

     “You could always take her to London with
you and keep an eye on her yourself,” David suggested, goading his brother to
see what other responses he could get. “John would go mad for such a lovely
woman.”

     Christopher shook his head. “I’d spend all
of my time fighting the prince off her,” he said, but in faith, did not think
the suggestion to be a bad one. After all, he could keep an eye on her and get
to know her better. There was no knowing how long he would be staying in
London, and if he left Dustin here, he would be just as much a stranger upon
his return.

     As he mulled over the possibilities, there
was a shout from high atop the wall. Riders had been sighted and were rapidly
approaching the village. There were only three, riding fast for Lioncross.

     The gates were open and Christopher
positioned himself dead center, his huge serrated broadsword in his left hand.
David and Edward joined him, a grim welcoming party for the intruders.

     As Christopher watched the three knights
approach, he was aware of his protective feelings towards Lioncross, as well.
He hadn’t been at the fortress for an hour and already he was ready and willing
to die for it. It was his, already under his skin. It took him a moment to
realize he had finally come home.

     The riders reined their great destriers to
within several feet of the drawbridge, the horses dancing and kicking up dust. Christopher
waited, ready to spring into action and cut off a head should it be so required.
He was as coiled as a spring.

     The rider in the middle suddenly began to
laugh, a curiously familiar laugh. Ripping off his helmet, he continued to
laugh heartily.

     “So the rumors were true, Lion’s Claw,” he said,
dismounting his steed.

     Christopher went limp with relief. He knew
the face and he knew the man. “Leeton de Shera,” he hissed. “How in the hell
did you find me?”

     Leeton just laughed as he approached and
the other two knights tore off their helmets as well, joining in the laughter.

     “Christ on his Mighty Throne,” Christopher
muttered a curse, gazing at the others. “You brought the devil twins with you. 
Max and Anthony De Velt.”

     The De Velt twins were mirror images of
each other, of average height but built like the mighty mountains of the north,
with long dark hair and brown-eyes. Leeton, however, was as blond as Christopher
and more so; even his eyelashes and eyebrows were white. He was tall and well-built,
and had been Christopher’s close friend since they had fostered together in
Derby. He had not chosen to crusade with Richard, instead, remaining as Captain
for the Earl of Derby. Christopher wondered what he was doing so far from his
fortress.

     “Why aren’t you at Derby?” Christopher
demanded, taking Leeton’s outstretched hand and shaking it.

     Leeton shrugged. “I still am, on occasion.  But
no longer as captain.”

     Christopher grew serious. Leeton was by far
one of the best knights he had ever seen and he was puzzled as well as
concerned.

     “Why not?” he asked.

     Leeton’s face grew sad, soft, as he
released Christopher’s hand. “Do you remember the earl’s daughter, Rachel?”

     Christopher nodded. “Of course, Leeton I
knew her well.”

     “I married her,” Leeton replied quietly,
but Christopher could read the tremendous grief in his friend's eyes. “Two
years ago. Last year, she bore me a son. She died three hours later.”

     Christopher was stunned. Aye, he had known
the fair Rachel, and he knew Leeton had always been sweet on her. For them to
marry was not a surprise, but he was deeply saddened by Rachel’s death. He
could see that Leeton was still having trouble coming to terms with it.

     “Please accept my condolences,” he said
softly. “But your son was healthy?”

     “Aye, Richard is magnificent,” Leeton
nodded. “He lives with the earl and his wife. I, however, cannot bear to stay
at the keep because it was where I met my wife and where she died. So I have
spent a great deal of time in Worcester, and in Nottingham, on errands for the
earl. I see Richard when I can.”

     Christopher sighed heavily, feeling the
man’s anguish. “If I had a son, I would not let him out of my sight,” he murmured.
“How can you be apart from him?”

     Leeton cleared his throat and lowered his
gaze. “He is the image of Rachel, Chris,” he said softly. “Every time I look at
him, I see her, and my grief is fresh.”

     Christopher understood. With silent
sympathy, he clapped his friend on the shoulder and the two of them turned back
to the others, now engaged in lively conversation with Edward and David.

     “Chris, what’s this I hear that you are to
be married?” Max asked loudly.

     Christopher nodded coolly. “Unfortunately, in
order to gain this magnificent keep, I have to marry the heiress,” he said. “I
have only met her today, and today we will be married. You will all attend the
ceremony, of course.”

     “You are getting married?” Leeton was
shocked. “Jesus, Chris, what a hell of a surprise. How on earth did this
happen?”

     Christopher didn’t want to go into that at
the moment. He gave Leeton a wry smirk. “By decree of our illustrious Richard,”
he said, rather grandiose. “He commands and I obey.”

     Leeton could see the reluctance, the humor,
and it was difficult not to tease Christopher because of it.

     “Your devotion to our king is indeed
limitless,” he said dryly. “So what does this woman look like? Twisted and old?
Medusa in the flesh?”

     Before Christopher could answer, David’s
gaze suddenly moved to the keep and he found himself following his brother’s focus.
On a second floor window overlooking the bailey, a small figure in blue silk and
flowing blond hair stood watching the knights. When Dustin noticed she had been
sighted, she abruptly disappeared back into the castle.

     “That,” Christopher said, “is she.”

     None of the knights said a word, looking up
at the window as if she were still standing there. The De Velt’ twin's mouths
were hanging open. All jesting faded as the shock of the lady’s appearance
settled.

     “
That
is Medusa in the flesh?” Leeton
asked in disbelief. “God, Chris, you failed to mention she was absolutely
beautiful. I feel like an arse.”

     Christopher shrugged noncommittally. “The
fact that she is easy on the eyes will only make the marriage a bit more
palatable,” he said. “But I have come to see that she is exceedingly stubborn and
disrespectful.”

     “Who cares? The two traits can be changed.”
Leeton insisted. “You cannot do a thing about her looks, but her manners can be
molded. She can make you a fine wife.”

     Christopher shrugged carelessly again, his
only answer. The conversation turned back to the king, the prince, and the
crusade, and Christopher whole-heartedly joined in. But in the back of his
mind, the small woman with the incredible hair kept appearing and try as he
might, he could not shake her.

CHAPTER
THREE

     Jeffrey returned with the priest four hours
later, Christopher was sure, just to spite him. The big German barely
acknowledged him and when he did, it was usually curt and bordering on rude.
David and Edward were furious about it but Christopher waved them off. The man
was as good as gone, anyway, and he banished him from the castle and from the
wedding in a show of complete control, daring the surly bastard to challenge
him. Jeffrey retreated without a word, but Christopher didn’t trust the man.

     It was well after dark when Christopher and
the other knights assembled in the great hall of Lioncross. It was a cavernous
place with vaulted ceilings and an enormous fireplace with a great lion’s head
carved into it. The servants had put fresh rushes on the floor and two banks of
expensive tallow candles burned brightly. Lady Mary had even insisted that
precious frankincense be burned in honor of her daughter’s wedding, the pungent
scent mingling with the heavy smell of smoke.

     Christopher stood in his armor, having not
even bothered to bathe or shave. This ceremony was simply a formality and meant
nothing to him other than the fact that Lioncross Abbey would legally be his.
He was eager to count the wealth in the coffers and get started on improving
the structure. He stood, waiting impatiently, for his bride and her mother to
appear.

     David stood beside him, but Edward and the
other knights were hitting the fine French wine pretty hard, beginning to get
rather loud and boisterous. Edward was a lively sort and could drink with the
best of them, and Christopher enjoyed the man greatly.

     Christopher watched him gulping from his
goblet, laughing with Leeton. He and Edward had fought with Richard for three
years and he had come to think of the man as his second brother. He was tall
and dashingly handsome with his dark hair and golden eyes, and he could fight
with the best of them. His father, Robert, was the Earl of Wolverhampton and
Edward would inherit the title upon the man’s death.

     Robert de Wolfe was still in the Holy Land
with Richard. He and Edward had gone together to fight with Richard, but Edward
left with Christopher. Robert and another knight by the name of Royce
Culbertson had become the very best of friends, Royce having been with Richard
since the beginning of the crusade and marrying a Saracen woman the very first
year. Royce had sent his wife and baby daughter home to England the very next
year, and the child was now three years old. Much to Edward’s horror, Robert
and Royce had drawn up a marriage contract between their two children, and
Edward had come home to visit his betrothed, who was exactly twenty-four years
younger than him.  Edward had protested the ridiculous match but his father
insisted.