“Aye. There were rumors always that you would return and tales of the ring entrusted to my father’s care. I don’t know when Royce heard them, but he waited until my mother was rounding with Percy before he acted upon them. My father was seized in the night, dragged away by Gaultier and his men. Perhaps they thought my father would be more likely to confess what he knew because of my mother’s state, but he did not.” She swallowed, recalling her mother’s terror well enough. “He never returned home. We next saw him when his head was hung from the gates, as a lesson to all who chose to defy Sir Royce’s requests for information. I was nine summers of age and will never forget the sight.” She shuddered. “He was left there to rot all the winter long, denied even a decent burial.”
“I am sorry, Anna…”
She did not give him the time to complete whatever he might have said. “Royce then taunted my mother. Perhaps he feared to meddle with a woman so close to her time. Perhaps he has some conscience. The fact was that Percy was unanticipated. My mother thought herself past the time of bearing children, but she ripened all the same. My father was so happy when she shared the news. He wanted a son, to carry on the tradition of smith in the village, but he never saw Percy.” Bartholomew closed his hand around hers. “Royce used to comment as he passed through the village, insinuating that my mother did not carry my father’s child. She knew he was not done with her. He came one night and vowed to leave her to raise her children if she surrendered the ring to him, but she knew it was a lie.” She flicked a look at Bartholomew. “She knew he was not a man to keep his word.”
He frowned, considering that.
“She made those months count. She told me every tale she knew, over and over again, and before her labor began, she gave me the ring and bade me hide it where no one could find it.” She swallowed. “Gaultier came for my mother as soon as the babe cried. He dragged her to the keep and his men cut down all who protested. My mother was sobbing when last I saw her alive. Sobbing and still bleeding. I was left with Percy, still wet from her womb and wailing for her milk.”
She could feel Bartholomew’s anger rising and carried on. “And so this is the justice offered by this baron. He had my mother’s head displayed, on the post opposite that of my father, leaving it there until the crows had picked the flesh clean. He said they were together in Hell. He taunted me, as he had taunted my mother, biding his time, watching. The tanner’s wife nursed Percy and I might as well have been his mother.” Anna kept her head bowed. “Until two years ago, when Royce decided my time had come.”
Bartholomew caught his breath. “You should have given him the ring and saved yourself.”
“But it would not have saved me!” Anna protested. “He is wicked and filled with greed. He is not a man who upholds his vows. He would have taken it and destroyed the chance of you ever being able to prove your identity. I would have suffered the same fate, if not worse. The villagers would have lost hope forever. Nay, there was naught to be won by capitulation.” She took a breath. “Truly, his conviction that I knew the location of the ring might have been the sole thing that saved me.”
“Because it was required to challenge him,” Bartholomew mused. He squeezed her fingers. “And what of Kendrick? Does he enter this tale?”
“He does.” Anna smiled, though it was a sad smile. “He crept into the keep, intent upon saving me. He confronted Gaultier and was slaughtered for his audacity. Right before my eyes, they cut him down, then cast him aside like so much offal. He was so good!” She shuddered, welcoming the tension that she felt within Bartholomew. “But I had the key, for Kendrick had given it to me before he was caught. When they finally left me, I managed to flee.”
“And they pursued you.” His voice was grim.
“And burned the forest in vengeance. It was my fault that all suffered so badly, for I defied Sir Royce and he did not approve.”
“But he thought you dead? Until yesterday?”
Anna nodded. “I believe so. I hid in the forest, joining the other outcasts after my escape. I retrieved the ring and began to wear it, for no one would seek it from me.”
Bartholomew stared down at her, concern in his eyes. “But then you lost the babe Kendrick had given you, the one that would have been his living memory. Truly, Anna, your determination is fierce.”
Anna took a deep breath, knowing she had to tell him all of the truth. “Perhaps so, but maybe less than you think.”
He arched a brow.
“Kendra was not Kendrick’s child,” she admitted, her words husky. “We were friends and comrades, but never lovers.”
He frowned at her, not comprehending.
“Royce gave me to Gaultier, in a last effort to compel me to talk. I was a maiden when captured, but not for long after that.” She swallowed at the fury in Bartholomew’s expression. “Kendra was Gaultier’s child.” Her throat was tight. “It was not her fault that she had been wrought in violence, and I did not want the others to know of my shame. I gave her that name apurpose. Only Father Ignatius knows the truth, and now you.”
Bartholomew stood up and paced the bank of the stream, agitated anew. He grimaced and crouched down before her to capture her hand once again in his. “I think Percy knows it.”
“He knows I despise Gaultier, but not why.” She shook her head. “He is only a boy. He does not need to know all of the wickedness of which men are capable.” Anna swallowed. “Not yet.” She tightened her grip upon his hand. “Bartholomew, you and your company already show him what it means to be a knight and a man of merit as well. I would have him learn more of your kind. You must reclaim Haynesdale, and I will help you to do it. I consider you my rightful baron. Command me to kill Royce and I will do it, regardless of the price to myself.”
Bartholomew reached out and wiped the tears from her cheeks with his fingertips. “I never thought to see you cry, much less twice in as many days,” he whispered with a smile. “Fierce Anna.”
Her throat was tight, but she could not ask him again.
He eyed her solemnly. “You know that I cannot do what you ask of me. I cannot command such a deed of any person, especially not you.”
“I know that you will not ride into Haynesdale and slaughter Sir Royce, though he roundly deserves as much, and I know that you will not take the ring and seize the holding as your own. I suppose that is the price of being a man of honor.” She lifted her gaze to his. “Do you not desire the holding?”
“I do want it,” Bartholomew spoke with passion. “I want to be baron more than anything else in all the world. But I cannot be the same as Royce, Anna. I cannot let my desire dismiss my morality. There must be a way, and I pledge to you that I will spend all my days and nights endeavoring to find it, but villainy is not the solution.”
“I said I would kill him for you,” she reminded him.
“Aye, I have no doubt that you would.” He touched her cheek with a fingertip and she was surprised to see a twinkle light his eyes. “Your valor is one of the traits I most admire about you, Anna.”
She found herself smiling in turn. “And truth be told, your honor is the trait I most admire about you.”
