Westley shook his head. “I do not know,” he said. “I found them in the bailey, below the wall walk. Amaro had her sitting against the wall, but she did not say anything, and neither did he.”
Curtis’ focus returned to Melusine for a moment. He’d had qualms about Amaro guarding her from the first, and her sudden change in behavior seemed to confirm his suspicions. He had enough trouble with Amaro and male prisoners, but now… now, he had female prisoners. One was to be his wife.
He didn’t like the future of trouble he was sensing.
That was something he didn’t need.
“Papa,” he said after a moment. “When you return to Lioncross, will you take Amaro with you?”
Christopher’s brow furrowed. “Why?”
“Because I do not want him here.”
“Can you tell me why?”
Curtis sighed sharply. “Youknowwhy,” he said, lowering his voice. “I realize the Conde de Zidacos is a valuable ally, but his son has a wicked streak in him, and most especially with women. I will have enough trouble building trust between the lady and me without worrying about a knight who can be… unpredictable.”
Christopher knew that. The Conde de Zidacos knew it, as well. He was hoping that spending time with the English might show his son another facet of the world and help him mature past the petty, vindictive knight he’d been. Amaro was such a paradox with his strong sword yet unpredictable ways, as Curtis had said. Christopher had hoped that he, as the father of six sons himself, would be able to mold the man.
But that hadn’t happened.
Yet.
“Not now,” he said. “Keep him here with you a little while longer. You may need his sword if the Welsh decide to launch a counterattack, so I do not want to remove him yet.”
Curtis didn’t like that answer. “Then leave Roi with me.”
“I need Roi.”
“You have Sherry.”
Christopher shook his head. “I am comfortable with the way my command is structured now,” he said. “It works well.”
“But…”
Christopher held up a hand to silence him. “Just keep Amaro for a while longer, at least until we know the Welsh aren’t going to attack immediately,” he said. “Then we will speak again on the matter.”
Curtis was vastly unhappy. “If he cannot behave himself, you should send him back to his father,” he said. “He was his father’s problem until the man dumped him on you. Heknewhe was an issue.”
Christopher shot him a quelling look. “You are not telling me something I do not already know,” he said. “And I do not wish to speak of this any longer.”
The conversation was shut down, but Curtis had a lot more to say on the subject. He wouldn’t disobey his father. Still, it left him frustrated. He needed some air. Therefore, he went over to Elle, who was still in a clutch with Melusine, and took her by the wrist.
“Come,” he said, sounding disgruntled. “Show me Brython.”
Elle was still holding on to Melusine as Curtis pulled her toward the tent opening. “If you wish,” she said. “But are we not waiting for the priest?”
“My father will send us word when he arrives,” Curtis answered as he walked past his father, unable to look at him. “Meanwhile, you will show me my new garrison.”
Elle went with him, grasping Melusine’s hand and forcing her to follow. Christopher let them go, returning to the table that held business matters for him, including Curtis’ account of the battle that the man had given him that morning. He knew his son was upset with him and he knew why, but much like Curtis with his future wife and her brother, Christopher walked a fine line between Amaro and his father.
He had for years.
In truth, he’d done to Curtis what Amaro’s father had done to him—dumped an unruly and unethical son onto someone else. Christopher had made it seem as if it was an honor for Amaro to serve Curtis, when the truth was that Christopher simply didn’t want the man in his ranks. Now, Curtis was increasingly vocal about not wanting him in his.
Christopher was starting to wonder if the de Laraga alliance was worth it.
In the days and months to come, he would remember that thought.
