“Let’s get them back to the castle.” Gaultier turned toward two of his Breton knights standing near the victims. “Guenole, you and Yann take Xabi to his room. Get him settled. I’ll see you tomorrow in the lists.Trugarez.Noz vat.Thank you andgood night.”
While his men carried Xabi up the cobblestone path tole Château de Montmarinat the top of the hill, Gaultier knelt beside Cardin and slid his arms under his brother’s broad shoulders. With Koneg lifting Cardin’s feet, the two of them hauled the bulky brute home.
****
“You bastard. Youpromisedme that you’d stay in the castle. That I wouldn’t have to come peel your bloody ass off some vomit-strewn table in a tavern. Lugh’s balls, Basati! I was in Dolssa’s bed!” Spittle flew as an enraged Gaultier struggled to control his fury while removing Cardin’s blood-soaked tunic.
“Désolé,mon frère. I’m sorry.” Cardin hung his head in shame. “I needed the silver to pay Baroja. And I won a hundred pounds tonight. Enough to clear my debt. But Xabi and I were robbed behind the Drunken Crow.”
With Gaultier’s help, Cardin removed his boots, then rose unsteadily to unbuckle his leather belt.
The sheath was empty. Frantic, he patted the waistband of his breeches, searching for the missing knife. “Bastards stole my dagger, too. The one with the head of the wolf.”
Gaultier took the leather belt with the empty sheath from him and laid it on the wooden table beside the bed. “You can borrow one of mine.” He swung Cardin’s legs up on the bed and gently eased his injured head back onto the pillow. “The healer said you’d need to rest for a day or two. So you’re staying in bed. And I’m posting guards outside the door to make sure you do.”
Pulling himself up to his full, towering height, Gaultier smoothed his long dark hair and straightened the surcoat which covered his chainmail armor.
In the incandescent light from the candle on the bedside table, Cardin gazed at the five ermine symbols over the black lion and golden-horned ram. The royal coat of arms of King Guillemin and the Breton kingdom of Finistère which he and Gaultier loyally served.
Le Château de Beaufort.
La Bretagne.
Home.
Cardin clamped his eyes shut, his throat constricting in a smothering wave of guilt and grief.
Charlotte. I miss you so much I can’t breathe.
Lukaz. The son I abandoned at birth.
I’m a royal knight of Beaufort. Yet I live in disgrace, dishonor, and despair.
Lugh’s balls, I need a mug of mead!
Gaultier’s deep baritone permeated Cardin’s pain. “Two days for you to heal. For our knights to load the horses and supplies. Now that we’ve achieved our king’s goals, and the Alliance with Aquitaine is secure, you and I are leaving Biarritz, little brother.”
Having removed his armor, Gaultier sighed as he plopped down on the bed to pull off his heavy boots. “Mamanis gravely ill. She’s called us home. Her Yuletide wish is to have us there at her side. And so,mon frère—you can’t refuse this time. Even if I have to drag you, kicking and screaming, the entire length of France—we’re returning to Bretagne. You and I are going back to Brocéliande.”
Chapter 7
A Wounded Little Wolf
Laudine removed the stems from the dried rosemary, sage, calendula, and yarrow for Ulla to grind with a mortar and pestle as the two priestesses prepared herbal remedies in the corner of the castle kitchen ofle Château de Landuc. “Thank you for writing the letter to Gaultier as my healer. Although I hate to deceive my sons, feigning a grave illness was the only way I could think of to convince Cardin to come home. The letter you sent should have arrived in Aquitaine by now. But it will take at least six to eight weeks for Gaultier and Cardin to travel home fromle Château de Montmarinin Biarritz. I’m hoping they’ll arrive in late August. I’ll keep them here throughout the Yuletide season. And try to reunite father and son.”
Ulla smiled and nodded, mixing the ground yarrow into beeswax to create a curative salve for wounds.
“Bastien and Gabrielle have taken excellent care of Lukaz these past six years since Cardin abandoned him and left for Biarritz. Lukaz has lived with his aunt and uncle since birth—they’ve been the boy’s parents, raising him like their own son. Lukaz’ maternal grandparents passed away shortly after his mother Charlotte’s death. He doesn’t understand why his Papa never comes home to visit and never writes any letters, like the fathers of the other young squires do atle Château de Beaufort.”Laudine poured steaming water over elderberry leaves, steeping them in a bowl to prepare an herbal elixir.
“Gabrielle and Bastien have told Lukaz that his Papa—the noble Sir Cardin de Landuc—is the finest archer among the royal knights sent by King Guillemin to defend the valuable province of Aquitaine. Lukaz knows that his Papa’s nickname is Basati—the Basque Wolf—and he’s proud that Gabrielle calls him Little Wolf, after his father. He even wants to become a castle archer, just like his Papa. That’s why Esclados and I are giving him a new bow and quiver of arrows when he arrives here on the summer solstice.”
Laudine strained the elderberry leaves and poured the liquid into a labeled jar. She smiled at Ulla’s raised eyebrow and inquisitive expression. “Yes, Bastien is bringing Lukaz here to spend the summer with us while he goes with his sons Gunnar and Haldar tola Joyeuse Garde,to train with Lancelot’s knights. Normally, Lukaz stays home atle Château de Beaufortwith his Aunt Gabrielle, since he’s too young for the training to become a squire. But now that she has the new babe Ylva to care for, in addition to her three-year-old son Vidar, I thought Lukaz would prefer spending the summer here with us, his paternal grandparents.” She wedged a cork stopper into the bottle of elderberry tincture. “Esclados has a magnificent new foal from his stables that he selected as a destrier for Lukaz to ride when he’s old enough. In the meantime, Lukaz can learn equestrian skills by riding palfreys with Quentin, our Master of Horse. And I’m hoping that you might help him learn the basics of archery. You’re highly skilled with the bow and arrow, Ulla. Would you be willing to teach my grandson?”
Hesitation and fear glimmered in Ulla’s apprehensive gaze.
Laudine knew that the gifted healer always avoided babes, new mothers, and young children. Being near them was too painful a reminder of the infant son Ulla had lost three years ago. But Laudine—in her vast experience as a mother and infinite wisdom as a Priestess of the Goddess Dana—knew that helping Lukaz might be the best way for Ulla to heal herself.
Ulla inhaled deeply, as if summoning courage. Raising her expressive green eyes to search Laudine’s face, she ducked her chin in solemn, reluctant agreement.
