“But you have already given the king your forty days’ service. A year has not quite passed since then.” Seeing that Everard was done feeding, she held him up to her shoulder and lightly rubbed his back.
“One cannot easily refuse a king’s request.”Especially,he mused silently,when one has asked him to make it.
“Well, mayhap not easily, but it has been done. A knight who has fought as often and as well for him as you have ought to be able to beg leave.”
She knew, even as she spoke, that he was not one who would do that. If the king had claimed a need of Thayer’s services, Thayer would dutifully provide them. She suspected the king knew that all too well.
“Nay, I cannot. Fighting men are too sorely needed. The Scots seem to think us their larder. They cannot be allowed to plunder our land freely and unpunished. That would leave us appearing weak and tempt them to act even more brazenly.”
“I have not seen that punishing them does much to deter their brazen activities.”
Neither had he, but he was not about to say so. To invoke the need of king and country was the only way he knew of to get her to accept his leaving, reluctant though that acceptance might be. She would never ask him to shirk his duty to his liege and England. He felt guilty about using such an underhanded method of ensuring her compliance but, for the moment, he deemed it a necessary subterfuge.
“The raids do not just bring the quick death dealt by a sword or arrow. They steal needed food and cause the slow, sad death of hunger. The North cannot afford to lose supplies.”
“I know, I know.” She sighed and eased Everard off her shoulder. “Your glutton of a son has fallen asleep. Would you set him in his cradle for me? Edna will not return until she sees you leave.”
He obeyed her request without hesitation, gently taking the sleeping babe from her arms. She sagged against her pillows as she watched him settle Everard in his cradle, then return to sit on the edge of the bed. There were no more arguments she could offer to make him stay. To try would be to compromise his honor and sense of duty. That was not something she could do to Thayer.
When he took her hand in his and met her gaze, she studied him. There was not even the hint of reluctance in him, which disappointed but did not surprise her. She had married a warrior, a man who had spent most of his life wielding a sword. Presented with a chance to fight a just battle, he could not refuse.
It was the call of battle he harkened to. A part of her had hoped to dull the lure of that call, but clearly she had failed. He was known as a wild and glorious warrior. She had foolishly wished to tame that part of him, to bring forth the gentle side he showed her and the children. Thayer was a man whose blood stirred now and again with the need for the dangerous thrill of battle. If the need was strong enough, she would only push him away from her by trying to hold him back. She had to hide her fear and worry and send him off without tears or condemnation.
“You want to go and show the Scots the fury of the Red Devil, aye?” She managed a faint smile.
“Well, as Roger says, we meet enough of their fierce, flame-haired warriors. Never hurts to show them we have one or two of our own.”
“When do you leave?”
“In two days’ time,” he replied, inwardly grimacing over the cowardice that had kept him from telling her sooner.
“Two days?” she whispered, shock robbing her voice of all strength. “But…so soon? Can you not delay it a few more days? A week?”
She could not believe he was going so soon. Worse, she could not think of how to explain why that troubled her as much as it did. In a week she would be considered healed enough from the birth to make love, something she ached for. Despite being his wife for over a year, she found it hard to say that clearly.
Thayer inwardly groaned. He knew exactly what she could not say. Little else had been on his mind. After three months of not being able to make love to her, it was torture to even think of leaving her before he could love her just once more. Knowing he could face death made it all the harder. He would do it, however, and not simply because the battle he rode for would not wait for him.
In Gytha’s slim arms he could lose the strength to do what he had to do. She would never use the pleasure they shared to turn him to her will, but she could do so all unwittingly. To make love to her again would make him too painfully aware of all he risked losing. He did not dare take that chance.
“The Scots will not wait on me, dearling,” he said in a quiet voice, making no effort to hide his honest regret.
“Curse the Scots.”
“Many do.” It was a weak attempt at teasing, but he was pleased to see it pull a faint smile from her. “I will not be gone very long.” He lightly kissed her.
“How can you be certain of that?”
“These are raiders, not a war foray. They are coming to steal, not to fight. Oh, they will not shy from a battle, but ’tis not truly what they seek. Their main concern will be to get as much of their plunder back home as they can. Ours will be to reclaim all we can. Such things never take as long as a war.”
Although she did not wholly agree, she did not argue. There was some comfort to be found in seeing the confrontation as he did. If all the Scots wanted was plunder, they would be less dangerous, more interested in escaping than fighting. She promised herself that, until Thayer returned, she would pray that the Scots he met were the most cowardly reivers who had ever lived.
“There is a chill in the wind. That babe should be inside. So should you.”
Gytha spared a brief glance for a grumbling Edna before returning her full attention to Thayer. When she had stepped out of the keep, even Thayer had argued against it, but no one would deter her. She would watch Thayer ride off, as would his new son. Only briefly did she let herself think that it could be her last sight of him alive. He would come back to her. She had to believe that.
When Bek came over to kiss his new brother’s cheek in farewell, then hers, she forced herself to smile and return his kiss. She wanted to keep him from going. He was just a boy. She kept that wish to herself. Bek was Thayer’s page. It was all part of the boy’s training to be a knight. She would only mortify the poor boy if she tried to keep him safe at Riverfall. As she watched him stride away, she mused a little sadly that it was good practice for her. Some day she would need the same restraint with Everard and whatever other sons God might bless her with.
Watching Thayer approach her, she prayed for the same strength she had shown in bidding Bek farewell.
