The little man smiled as he drew closer. “Aye. I’ve come as you…” His voice broke off as he looked up and met Valteri’s gaze.
The look of terror was one Valteri had become more than accustomed to.
“Holy Mother of God!” Edred clutched at the wooden cross about his neck. “’Tis true, Normans are the sons of Lucifer!”
Fighting back the urge to slap that look off the monk’s face, Valteri retrieved his helm and gloves from the ground. He approached the friar. “If we are the devil’s own, then I’d wager that the Saxons are his whore. After all, ’twas your faithless King Harold who took holy vows to support my brother. And no sooner had Edward died than your Harold seized the throne with more lies and treachery.” He raked the friar with a glare. “We are here under papal authority and with my brother, Bishop Odo, leading part of our army. So ’twould seem we represent your God, not your Satan, and that He, Himself, endorses our endeavors.”
Ignoring the man’s gaping, indignant stare, Valteri headed for the hall. So much for his useless daydreams of acceptance. The people of Ravenswood would always demand the presence of clergy, and as long as clergy remained, so, too, would rumors of his birth.
Damn Will for dragging him into this.
Valteri swung open the door with such force that it bounced off the far wall. His fury simmered deep in his gullet.
Even now, he could feel the sting of the brand as it sizzled against hisskull, hear the words of Brother Jerome echoing around him. A child no older than five, he’d screamed and cried for them to stop. Had fought against the chains holding him until he had permanently scarred his wrists.
Over and over, he’d stated his innocence.
Over and over, they’d condemned him, taking pleasure in the pain they’d heaped on an innocent child.
So be it.
He’d much rather be associated with the devil than a god who could allow such misery to be given in His name. At least the devil was honest about his treachery. He didn’t hide behind so-called works of charity that masked horrors far worse than any hell.
And yet all he had to do was look at Ariel and he could almost believe in God. Her goodness and beauty had to come from some truly divine source.
Valteri gripped his helm in his hand, and struggled against the urge to throw it into the wall. He must calm himself. The past was just that, the past. The future was all that mattered now.
What future?
Valteri paused, all his fury wilting beneath a bitter, stinging wave of regret and despair. He knew he couldn’t stay and pretend the past had never happened, that people would leave him and Ariel in peace.
Sooner or later, they’d all turn on him.
His only hope would be to take her away and live in isolation. To give up everything he’d ever known.
Ever fought for.
He closed his eyes, trying to imagine her on a farm, her back bowed by years of hard work, her gentle hands scarred and chafed.
Nay, he could no more subject her to that kind of life than he could end his own misery. She was a noble lady and she deserved all the privileges and wealth that title granted her.
Sighing in regret, he knew what must be done. Once William released him from his vows, he would seek another war.
CHAPTER9
Valteri splashed icy water on his face and scrubbed at the grime plastered there by his hard ride. No doubt dancing with Ariel and the children had added even more dirt, not to mention his rather pleasant fall with Ariel.
He smiled at the memory, until his anger surfaced.
Why had the friar chosenthatmoment to show himself? It’d been the first time in Valteri’s life that he’d truly enjoyed himself. That he’d forgotten who and what he was.
He never should have paid the Saxon peasant to find the odious brother and return him to his post.
As if sensing his ill-begotten mood, Cecile yowled and jumped from his washstand. Miscalculating the distance, she hit the edge and fell back against the floor.
“Here, now.” He scooped her up and placed her where she’d attempted to land. “Did you hurt yourself?”
She purred under his hand and gently nuzzled his fingers, her pink tongue roughly stroking his scarred knuckles.
