“Sir Jareth de Leybourne. I am Chester’s nephew.”
That brought recognition from Zeus, and perhaps a hasty salutation. “Welcome to Aphrodite’s Feast, my lord,” he saidpleasantly. “I apologize that I was not on duty when you arrived yesterday. I have the night watch, and most of the day, so I just happened to be sleeping when you arrived.”
Jareth nodded. “I know,” he said. “I spoke to a couple of your men—Heracles and Orpheus. They explained where you were.”
“Good,” Zeus said. “Is there anything I can tell you? Would you like me to show you about?”
“Lady Desdra already did,” Jareth said. “When I spoke to your men, they told me a little about their backgrounds, and since we are to work closely together from now on, I will tell you what I told them—I am a member of a group known as the Guard of Six. We are the personal guards of King Henry. I serve the king directly and my home is Westminster Palace. My mother was Chester’s younger sister, but my father is from the House of de Leybourne. We are the direct descendants of King Mark of Cornwall. I trained at Corfe Castle and Warwick Castle, and I served as a master trainer at Warwick before I served Henry. I have seen years of battle, including the wars between Henry and Simon de Montfort. That makes me an elite knight, highly trained and experienced, and quite worthy as your liege. Better you should know at the start who, and what, I am. Do you have any questions?”
Zeus shook his head. “Nay, my lord,” he said. “Thank you for telling me.”
Jareth nodded. “I should like to meet all of The Guardians at some point soon, so can you please arrange a time for everyone to gather?” he said. “I am going to be here for the foreseeable future, so any time should be convenient. You arrange it and I will attend.”
“Very good, my lord.”
“Thank you,” Jareth said. “Now, have you seen any strange men wandering around here this morning?”
Zeus pointed toward the feasting room. “There are a few I do not recognize in there,” he said. “There are still others down by the river, I think.”
Jareth strained to look from the front door, down toward the river, but he couldn’t see much. “I’ll find them,” he said. “By the way, I’ve brought five knights with me. They are all part of Henry’s guard. And Hugh de Winter has been lurking around here, too.”
“Aye, my lord.”
With that, Jareth headed into the chilly morning in search of some of his friends. Zeus watched him as he headed outside, making his way across the road and over toward the riverbank. On the avenue, the gold- and silversmiths were starting to open their stalls, all of them with heavily armed men to protect their valuable wares. It seemed like just another normal morning, and one he had to admit he was glad to see. The new liege didn’t seem like an arrogant ass, after all. That was a good start.
Little did he know just how sour that morning was about to turn.
*
It had beena long time since he’d been to Bristol.
Ciaran arrived in town as the sun cleared the eastern horizon and began its ascent. He’d left Ridlaw in the middle of the night, riding beneath a moon that sat low in the sky and provided a silvery glow by which to travel. It had been cold and damp, and he hated travel, but this was necessary.
He needed to see his daughter.
His life had been one big mess since the death of his son. Benedict had always played the fatherly role, which sounded strange, but given that Ciaran had no real desire to be a parent to either of his children, Benedict had stepped into a necessaryrole. Ciaran was well aware that Benedict and Desdra were close, and he well remembered when Benedict had nearly killed him for giving Desdra over to Chester de Long. Ciaran had always resented his son for the fact that the man tried to parent him, and while he was naturally melancholy that his son had been murdered, he wasn’t devastated by it. That meant there was no one around to make him feel guilty about the life he led.
And there was no one standing between him and Desdra.
The outskirts of Bristol were busy at this time in the morning as the farmers either headed out to their fields or were bringing in cartloads of produce to sell. Bristol had a market every seventh day, and it’d had a royal license for one for many years, so farmers heading into town weren’t going to sell their wares at market, but rather door to door, with private clients that they had sold to for years.
The fish market, however, was a different story. Because Bristol was so close to the sea, fishermen went out every morning and returned shortly thereafter to sell their daily catches. The fishmongers were alive and well that morning as Ciaran entered the city. He thought the whole city smelled like the ocean, anyway, and it certainly smelled like fish down by the river. In fact, that was where he was going—to the river—because that was where Aphrodite’s Feast was, where he assumed his daughter was.
And he was prepared to do battle with her.
He left his horse at a livery downriver from The Feast, mostly because he wanted to walk the rest of the way so he wouldn’t be obvious riding on horseback. A man on foot was often overlooked in a big city, whereas a horse could draw attention. The streets were still fairly empty at this hour as he approached Aphrodite’s Feast from the east. The way the building was constructed had it facing the river, but there was a big bend inthe river just to the east of it, so the rear of the building was exposed to the road that ran along the river.
Ciaran found himself looking up at that enormous, gray-stoned building.
As he drew near, he could see some men gathered down on the riverbank. He assumed they were customers of The Feast and paid them no mind. There was a short walkway off the road and then the stairs that led to the elaborate entry door, a great stone arch with a door that God himself could not penetrate. There were two men standing at the door, big men with weapons, and Ciaran was prepared for them. He knew who they were, as he’d been to Aphrodite’s Feast several times, usually to gamble but sometimes to seek female companionship. This time, it was different. He paused before entering, speaking to the man on the left.
“I have come to see Desdra le Daire,” he said. “I am her father. Will you send for her, please?”
The man didn’t reply. He looked to another man, standing a few feet away in the foyer, and this man stepped forward. He’d heard Ciaran’s request.
And he recognized him.
“Le Daire,” he greeted Ciaran. “Do you remember me?”
