Thornbear (Book 1) (26 page)

“Isn’t it? Do you realize that I knew before I found this dress? This was just the most blatant evidence. Your every word and action has screamed the truth for all to see.” Turning, she snatched up the piece of ribbon from where it lay on the floor. “This isn’t your sister’s, by the way.

“Who else knows?” she continued. “Was that why you attacked young Master Draper? Had you discovered his previous dilly-dallying’s with your leman?”

“That’s a lie!” said Gram, raising his voice.

“Ah! There’s the rowdy tough who beat a young man so badly he thought you might kill him.”

“That isn’t how it was,” protested Gram.

“That’s exactly how it was! Only a bully and a coward would beat a man after he’s down. That poor boy never had a chance! You beat him half-to-death to cover your own guilt!” she accused.

“That’s not true,” said Gram, tears starting in his eyes. Inwardly though, he felt keenly the kernel of truth behind the words. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Stop thinking with your privates! I didn’t raise you to be some randy, lust-addled, half-wit fighting in the streets over some slut!”

“No!” shouted Gram. “Don’t you dare speak of Alyssa that way!” He was trembling now.

“Or what?” challenged Rose. “You’ll strike me down? Is that how you solve all your problems now?”

“No.” Gram clamped his mouth shut, trying to control himself. It felt as though his chest might explode.

Rose watched him, her own face red, and then she took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” she told him. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so hurt in my life.”

“I wasn’t trying to hurt you, Mother.”

“Well, you did! I’ve never been so disappointed, no—disgusted. Do you think your father would have wanted you to behave this way?”

“No.”

“Who taught you to fight like that?” she asked then, but she spoke again before he could reply. “Never mind, I already know the answer to that. I heard you address Cyhan out there. That’s plain enough.

“I’d have the brute strung up for it if I had my way,” she muttered. “Unfortunately, that’s not an option,” she added, talking now to herself before looking at her son once again. “Is that what you want? Do you think that’s what your father wants?”

“That doesn’t matter,” said Gram softly.

“What?”

“I said, ‘That doesn’t matter’!” he repeated loudly. “I am not Dorian Thornbear and I won’t ever be. It isn’t his life to live, it’s mine! I don’t care what you want, or what he wanted. I want to be
me,
Gram Thornbear!” The words sounded blasphemous to his own ears, but he felt them earnestly, down to the bottom of his soul.

Lady Rose Thornbear went still, staring at her son with wide eyes. After a moment it became too much and she turned away to stare out the small narrow window.

Gram watched her, his anger fading to be replaced by an unnamed dread. His mother’s shoulders were moving, though no sound came from her. He had said what shouldn’t have been said, and now he couldn’t take it back.

“Fine,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.

“Mother…”

“You’re right,” she continued in a quiet voice. “It’s your life, and I have no right to try and live it for you.”

He took a step forward, trying to close the gap, to bridge the distance that was growing between them.

“This is my fault. I’ve tried too hard to protect you, to keep you from the things that would hurt you. Your father wouldn’t have wanted this. He was sick at heart, near the end, but he would have trained you. I chose to interpret his words to suit myself. I didn’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t lose me, Mother.”

“I already have,” she said in a small voice. “Where is your father? Where are your grandfathers? Have you noticed that all the men in our family are dead?” She rose and left the room, returning only moments later. When Gram saw her face it tore at his heart, her eyes were red and her face streaked with tears. Worse, in her hands she held the replica of Thorn that he and Matthew had hung on her wall.

“This is what killed them,” she said. “Every single one of them, my father, your father, your father’s father; they all died fighting.” She thrust the weapon into his hands. “Take it. It’s yours. You’ll start training tomorrow.”

Gram’s cheeks were wet as he took the sword, the sword he had already stolen, though she didn’t know it. “I won’t die. There are no wars these days…”

“There are always wars,” she told him. “Men find ways to make them, for good or ill. One day you will find your own war.”

“I won’t…”

Rose pressed her finger to his lips. “Hush. I’ve made up my mind, and I’ll say no more, but to give you one piece of wisdom, the knowledge that your father learned before he died. War is death, whether it kills you or not. Kill or be killed, whether you die or whether you slay your enemies by the thousands, it leaves you dead inside. Every life you take will lay a price on your soul, so weigh it carefully. Never pay it unless the gain is worth the loss.”

“I will make you proud, Mother.”

She seemed to curl in on herself, even as his arms went around her, trying to comfort her. “I am already proud, a proud daughter, a proud widow, and a proud mother. Pride is all I have, and as I enter the autumn of my life it is a poor substitute for family.”

They cried together, until she pushed him away. “I’m done,” she said then. “No more weeping, if you are to be a knight, then be the best.” She left him standing alone.

He heard Carissa’s voice in the other room, “Momma, what’s wrong?”

His grandmother entered and hugged him. “I told her it would come to this.”

“I’m sorry, Nana,” he replied. “I think I’ve broken her heart.”

“Shhh,” she soothed. “Women’s hearts are not so weak as that. She will mend.”

Chapter 24

Gram joined the other young men on the training field the next day.

Robert Lethy was the first to greet him when he approached, “Hello Gram.”

“I’m sorry, Robert,” was all Gram could say.

“It’s alright,” said Robert, ever forgiving.

Perry simply offered his hand, which Gram shook wordlessly. They had already made their peace.

He had apologized to everyone that had been involved in the incident at the ball, but he had yet to speak to Sir Cyhan directly.

“Gram will be joining us from today onward,” announced Cyhan. His announcement elicited curious looks from the others but he ignored them. “Step aside with me for a moment,” he added, pointing at Gram.

They walked a short distance apart from the others.

“Please forgive me, Zaihair,” said Gram.

“For what?”

“For fighting at the ball, for injuring your squires. I’ve dishonored your…”

“Shut up,” said Cyhan, interrupting him. “You will only address me as ‘zaihair’ when we train in private. As for apologizing, I will tell you when you must do so.”

“But, the other day…?”

“Your fights with other men are none of my concern, boy.”

“I was wrong to start a fight in the hall, though,” insisted Gram.

“I’m not your father, nor your judge. It’s for your mother and the Count to decide the right and wrong of your actions. I only intervened when it was necessary, to prevent you killing that young fool,” said Cyhan.

“We’ve settled our differences.”

“Good, you aren’t ready to kill yet.”

“Begging your pardon, sir, but what?” Gram was thoroughly confused.

“Did you think I stopped you to protect my squire? He made his choice when he insulted you. I would hate to lose him but I’m not here to coddle idiots. I stopped you because it would have set your progress back, or even ruined you. Like your father, you’re tender hearted. Killing him would have damaged your resolve, your heart.”

“So you wouldn’t have cared?”

Cyhan grimaced, “I told you, boy. Most fight with their bodies, some with their minds, and a few, the crazy ones, like you, with their hearts. Killing someone in anger at this stage would have damaged you—here!” He struck Gram’s chest with his palm. “When you’re ready, when you have defeated yourself, then you can make your own choices about whether or not to kill.”

“And you don’t care who I kill?”

“I trust you to make your own decisions. I have my own oaths, people I’ve sworn to obey and protect. If you find yourself at cross-purposes with me, then you have a problem, for I am the one person you will probably never be able to beat.”

Gram thought about his words. “Why not?”

“Because I’m your teacher. That’s why you folded up when I cuffed you the other day. You’re already good enough that you’d be a hard fight—if I was a stranger. Soon you’ll be better than that, but raising your hand against the one that taught you is next to impossible. Could you strike your mother?”

“Never!”

“Exactly. And that is why you won’t ever be able to beat me, but I’ll damn well make sure you’re a match for anyone else,” said the old knight.

“Is there anyone you can’t beat?” asked Gram.

“Not any longer,” said Cyhan.

“What about your teacher?”

“He’s dead.” The knight turned away then, and began walking back to the others.

“What happened to him?”

“No more questions.”

***

Gram had another surprise waiting for him when he returned home later in the day.

He was tired, all the way down to his bones. The morning’s training had been physically exhausting. Sparring in heavy mail followed by a long run had tested his endurance, and then, after lunch, he had gone to face another session alone with Cyhan. Despite his teacher’s assurance that he didn’t need to apologize, Cyhan had made certain that Gram didn’t walk away without quite a few bruises.

Returning to his family’s apartments, he had hoped for a brief rest and perhaps a chance to wash before heading to the great hall. Instead he found that the front room had been rearranged. The smaller table had been removed and a larger one brought in. It appeared to be set for five.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“Momma wants to have a private dinner,” said Carissa as she finished helping one of the kitchen maids set the table.

They had done as much in the past, but only rarely. Rose preferred to eat amongst her peers. She had often lectured Gram on the importance of being seen, both to maintain social bonds and to reassure those who served them.

“There’s a fifth seat,” he pointed out. The fourth was likely for their grandmother, but the fifth was a mystery to him.

“We are having a guest,” answered his sister, giving him a sly smile.

Rose entered then, carrying a decanter. Setting it on the table she looked at him before making a face and sniffing. “Go clean up, you stink of rust and sweat.”

He gathered a fresh tunic and went to do as she asked. When he was returning some half an hour later, he found that his grandmother had just arrived and was standing in the hall. He hurried to open the door for her. “Do you know who is coming for dinner?” he asked.

Elise winked at him, “You’ll see in a few minutes.”

When the knock came a little later, he rushed to open the door. Alyssa stood outside. “It’s you,” he said in surprise.

She smiled nervously, “It’s me.”

“Do come in.”

She stepped inside, and Gram ushered her to a seat at the table, while Rose sent the maid to tell the kitchen that they were ready. They all sat then, and Rose nodded to Carissa. She stood and lifting the decanter set out already, began to pour.

“Would you like some wine?” his sister asked their guest.

“Please, thank you.”

Gram followed her example and took some as well, his eyes darting back and forth as he watched the women of his family.
What is this all about?
he wondered.

They began to chat then, small talk about the weather and similar nonsense. When the food came a short time later, Gram found himself relieved. Despite his mother’s best efforts, he had never learned to enjoy such empty conversations. He was grateful for something to do with his hands.

As they finished their food and the meal came to a close he began to feel a sense of trepidation. His mother was very traditional, and he knew that her true reason for the invitation would soon become clear. Once they had eaten, and only then, would she reveal her purpose.

“I have to thank you for caring for my son in my absence,” said Lady Rose after the empty platters were taken away. “In particular for stitching his wounds.”

“It was a small thing,” replied Alyssa. “Lady Thornbear would have done it if I hadn’t been there.”

Elise leaned forward, “Even so, it was neatly done. I like a woman that isn’t afraid to do what must be done.”

“I think he likes having scars,” put in Carissa.

They laughed at that, and then Gram spoke, directing his words to Alyssa, “I’d like to apologize for spoiling the ball, especially right after your song.”

“Anytime would have been a bad time,” said Rose, remonstrating him.

“Did you like my singing?” asked the young woman.

“It was amazing!” enthused Carissa. “You have the loveliest voice.”

“Thank you.”

“Your talent is rare and exceptional,” agreed Rose, “but I have a more important matter to discuss with you. May I speak frankly?”

Alyssa dipped her head respectfully, “I am honored to be invited into your home. Please ask me whatever you wish.”

“My son is in love with you.”

Gram choked on his wine and began coughing uncontrollably. Everyone ignored him, though. Elise and Carissa were watching his mother and Alyssa with keen eyes.

Alyssa remained still, showing no sign of shock, though she didn’t reply immediately. After a minute she blinked and it was then that Gram realized that she had not done so for almost a full minute.

“You’ll forgive me for startling you, I hope,” added Rose.

“He’s completely besotted,” agreed Carissa.

Gram glared at his sister, finally finding his voice, “I am not drunk.”

“That’s not what I mean,” said Carissa.

Elise shushed her, putting a hand on the girl’s arm, “Let them talk.”

“I didn’t expect that,” admitted Alyssa.