They could all feel it.
None more heavily than Kevin. This was his property now and the legacy of the House of de Lara, in a sense, was resting on him. He didn’t want to be the one who failed his forefathers.
More than that, he didn’t want to fail his brother. He’d done that enough over the years while his brother was serving as King John’s hated bodyguard. Kevin had failed him miserably back then and he was determined to show that the little brother of the past was no longer the embittered, shallow knight who had shunned his brother because the man had been doing his duty.
He had something to prove.
“We shall hold it,” Kevin said quietly as a servant poured him more ale. “My brother did not give me the hereditary title of Viscount Trelystan only for me to dishonor it.”
Gareth looked at him. “That was your brother’s birthright,” he said. “I never knew Sean well, as I came into The Marshal’s service when Sean spent all of his time with John, but it was quite generous of him to give it to you.”
Kevin nodded as he lifted his cup. “He is a generous man,” he said, swallowing the bitter ale. “He did not have to give me anything. I still am not sure why he did, but the Earldom of Bath and Glastonbury keeps him very busy. I suppose he wanted me to have the hereditary properties because I spent all my time there, anyway. I was already his garrison commander at Trelystan Castle when he granted me the title of Lord of the Trilaterals.”
“He gave you the title because you deserved it,” Gareth said. “You do not have to justify his decision to anyone. I have watched you do that for months and you must stop. All of this belongs to you now and you have done a remarkable job with it. The Trilaterals castles are well-organized and efficient, and you have brought law and order into Wales with your assumption of Wybren. The Welsh will see that soon enough. They will see that your presence here is a benefit and that your heart is true. Hopefully before they try to overrun us.”
He said the last sentence with some humor and Kevin smiled weakly. But he was uncomfortable with Gareth’s praise for many reasons, but mostly because he had always been a follower– sworn to William Marshal, or the de Lohr brothers, or to his brother. He’d never really had a command of his own until his brother made him the garrison commander of the Trilaterals castles. Trelystan, Hyssington, and Caradoc Castles had been his domain until Sean had given them to him. Now, they all belonged to Kevin and as Gareth said, even after all of these months, Kevin was still in disbelief.
But his focus, for the moment, was on Wybren.
“Hopefully,” he agreed, focusing on Gareth’s comment. “But I hesitate to move more men into Wales for fear the Welsh will think I am bolstering my army for some kind of military move. If they see me doing that, they will fear the worst and that will cause them to build their armies because they think I am going to attack them. Even so, I think we should start moving more men into Wales, gradually. You are right about overrunning us– I would be surprised if they did not try it at some point, soon.”
Both Gareth and Bannon nodded, in full agreement, but something near the hearth had Cal’s attention. He had been leaning back in his chair, one foot up on the table, but he spied something that made him sit up so fast that he splashed his ale on Bannon’s leg.
An angel had just made an appearance.
*
“So many men,Megsy!”
“I see them.”
“Saesnegmen!”
“Courage,merch. This is for your father, after all.”
Perhaps it was for her father, but that knowledge didn’t make Juliandra feel any less sick to her stomach.
The hall of Wybren was a vast place, with a steeply pitched roof and heavy wooden beams in the rafters. There were holes in the eaves to let the smoke evacuate from the enormous firepit in the center of the hall, one so big that a man could easily fall into it and there would be no hope. Big logs were propped up on top of one another, giving off a flame that was as tall as a man and then some. The hall was smoky, crowded, and warm.
And they were expecting Juliandra to sing.
Da, I hope you appreciate this!
The plan was to get close to Kevin de Lara. She’d spent the afternoon discussing the situation with Megsy and they had come to the conclusion that if she sang well enough, and presented a pretty enough picture, the Lord of Wybren might very well want to meet her.
That was the hope, anyway.
But that feat would take a good deal of courage, courage that Juliandra had been trying to summon for the better part of the afternoon. She simply wasn’t accustomed to singing in front of a crowd, so this was as fearful an experience as she could imagine. She had always been inordinately shy when it came to performing, not even singing in front of the priests at the parish she attended. She simply wasn’t an exhibitionist.
But now, she was going to have to be.
The moment she emerged from the servant’s alcove in the corner of the hall, it seemed to her that all eyes immediately turned in her direction. She was wearing a scarlet damask dress that was bright enough to catch the eye, even in dim light. It was her finest, because she had been certain that if she dressed well, the Lord of Wybren would want to meet with her. She had hoped to overwhelm him with her appearance, but she hadn’t made it that far thanks to the sentries at the gatehouse.
But she’d found another way.
Come what may, she was going to have a conversation with Kevin de Lara that night and as she stood at the edge of the room, with all eyes upon her, she knew it was time to act.
If she could only stop her knees from knocking.
