That was clear when he put her in the gatehouse chamber.
She had prepared quickly for the journey, washing up and running her fingers through her hair to comb it, and then had spent the rest of the time sitting by the window, watching people come and go. It had been somewhat interesting as she realized that Wybren Castle was very much like any other city. People came to do business at the castle and then they would return home again, much like any other business in any other town. The only difference was that anyone coming into the fortress was carefully examined, from top to bottom, by a well-armed group of soldiers.
The English were being terribly vigilant.
But, then again, they had to be.
As she watched the comings and goings, unfamiliar thoughts crept upon her that she had been unable to chase away. Thoughts that revolved around the handsome English knight now in command of Wybren. Try as she might, thoughts of Kevin came to her whether she wanted them to or not.
There was something about him that she couldn’t seem to shake.
Juliandra had never been one to pay attention to men, because the only men she ever came into contact with were those her father did business with or the local warlords who were solicitous towards her father because he was wealthy.
Her father, however, did not approve of warmongering, surprising for a man who had spent his entire life on the Marches, and he didn’t like the brash warriors who would come to his home, eat his food, and only speak of violence. Aeron had been one of those, and he had come repeatedly, but not for the fine food and drink.
He had come for another reason.
Gethin had realized early on that Aeron had been interested in his daughter. That had started a few years ago when her womanly curves began to fill out, and when Aeron finally offered for her hand, Gethin had made an excuse as to why his daughter could not be married. Bad fits, he’d told the man, much to Juliandra’s chagrin. But Aeron had been persistent in spite of the threat of “bad fits” and Gethin was forced to tell him that he did not want his daughter married to a warrior.
Still, that had not discouraged Aeron.
He had been relentless in his pursuit of her, more relentless the older she became. Because he had been pursuing her for so long, Aeron saw her as his property. He made sure everyone knew that she was meant for him, which resulted in an astonishing lack of suitors.
It had become an odd standoff– Aeron expecting Gethin to agree at some point and Gethin determined not to. Now that both Gethin and Juliandra were prisoners of the English, Juliandra was certain that Aeron would be made aware of what had happened because Megsy had returned to The Neath and Juliandra knew the old maid would not keep her mouth shut. Somehow, word would get back to Aeron and Juliandra was concerned about his reaction. She didn’t want the man creating trouble for her, for she had made a deal for her father’s freedom and she didn’t want Aeron to jeopardize that.
She was certain that Aeron wouldn’t see it that way.
An hour of reflection and contemplation had ended when a knock on her door roused her from her thoughts. Yanking the door opened, she was greeted by a fully armed knight in Kevin and when they’d first laid eyes on each other, Juliandra had felt a jolt. It was quick, like a lightning strike, and it had the same effect– her entire body was tingling from it. If Kevin felt it, he didn’t let on, and he hardly said a word to her as he led her down to the bailey where the escort awaited. He helped her mount alittle palfrey before the entire escort encircled her and moved from the gates.
And that was where she currently found herself.
The ride south had been intensely quiet. Kevin was riding just ahead of her and another knight was riding point. The remaining knight was just behind her, for she could feel the weight of his stare. There was a storm off to the west, with rain and thunder rippling through the sky. It was the only sound to be heard among quiet knights and one quiet lady.
Riding in silence was starting to make Juliandra nervous.
“This time of year brings strong storms,” she commented, loud enough for Kevin to hear her. “I can remember a storm several years ago that nearly destroyed our village. Our pretty little brook became a roaring torrent of water and washed away several cottages.”
Kevin turned his head slightly, though he was wearing a great helm, which made movement difficult. But she saw him nod and return his attention to the road ahead. Undeterred, she spurred her little horse alongside his warhorse.
“You said you wanted to ask me questions,” she said. “Why not start now? We shall not arrive in Pool for another hour and conversation makes travel go more quickly.”
His helmed head turned to her again. “It also gives any outlaws waiting in the trees a beacon by which to strike,” he said. “We remain silent on a march, my lady.”
She frowned. “Is this a march?” she asked. “Are we going into battle and I was not aware? I thought we were only going into town.”
She heard him sigh heavily. “We are not on a battle march,” he said quietly. “But in case you have not realized it, we are enemies in an enemy land. We would make a fine target for a band of marauding Welsh.”
Juliandra looked around at the emerald-green landscape, the impossibly blue sky. “Those are the exact men you wish to know about, are they not?”
He didn’t answer her for a moment. Even though the helm was facing forward, Juliandra sensed that he was contemplating that question.
His response wasn’t long in coming.
“Then tell me who we may expect in this area, should a marauding band attack us,” he said.
Finally, she thought with relief.The sooner I can give him answers, the sooner I can free my father!
“These are the lands of a man named Glynn ap Hywel,” she said. “His home of Pentre Gwyn is not far from here.”
