“He is happy for Kress. We should all be.”
William didn’t say anything more. He simply nodded, watching as Christopher finished off his wine before rising from his seat and heading out to bring Achilles back to Farringdon to face The Marshal. As William watched the enormous Earl of Hereford and Worcester head out into the night, he reflected on what the man had said– it was very true that William had some of the greatest knights in England sworn to him, something he was enormously proud of.
Men of breeding, training, and honor helped him keep control of a country that could easily be in chaos were it not for his guiding hand in most instances. Men like Kress de Rhydian were part of that control, and guidance, and Kress in particular had a gift of wisdom and talent that would be sorely missed.
Did William blame the man for falling in love with the lady? Nay, he didn’t. Kress was human, like the rest of them. William didn’t blame him, but he did look forward to the day when he would see Kress again. He looked forward to the day when Kress felt comfortable enough to bring his wife back into the country where she was raised, where men would only know her as Catherine, Lady de Rhydian, and not Cadelyn of Vendotia. Perhaps someday, they would both return, but until that time, it was as Christopher had said– it was safer this way.
A little anonymity, in their case, was a very good thing.
It was the only thing.
EPILOGUE
Near Seton Castle
East of Edinburgh, Scotland
1209 A.D.
When he foundher, he was going to spank her.
Well, maybe not spank her, but she was in for an earful.
She had waited until he’d gone into Edinburgh before making her move, but he’d returned sooner than expected and the terrified nurse tending his one-year-old son had been the one to tell him that his errant wife had gone into town, to church. She thought Catherine had gone to pray, but Kress knew better.
She’d gone into town to collect her money from the clerics of St. Martin’s.
Loping along the road into the village of Seton, Kress headed towards the village of Tranent, not far from Seton Castle. The castle was a powerful bastion along the coastline east of Edinburgh that had been gift from William the Rough (later known as William the Lion) for a particular job Kress had done for him a couple of years ago that had ridded him of a particularly problematic enemy. It would have been a difficultjob for most, but not for a man who still considered himself an Executioner Knight. For him, the task of eliminating an enemy was something he’d been born to do.
Kress had lived up to his nickname.
But he was involved in more than simply assassinations and dirty work. He was also engaged in the king’s politics. There was a political alliance brewing between Scotland and France, and Kress had returned to Seton to tell his wife of his involvement in it only to discover that she had gone into town. Now, he was also going into town to corral her and force her to return home. Given that he was going to be away from Seton for an unknown length of time, he didn’t want to worry about his wife who liked to wander like she did in the days of Castle Rising.
He wanted her home where she belonged.
Fortunately, he didn’t have to go all the way in to town, for he met his wife on the road as she was heading back to their fortress. Goliath was with her, the faithful beast they had learned to love, but there was also a knight with her, a young Scotsman who had trained at Berwick Castle before pledging his service to Scotland and Scotland’s king. Half-Scots and half-English, Sir Kerr de Vaux caught sight of his liege as the man headed in their direction and clearly resisted the urge to run the opposite direction. Even as Kress came near to their small party, Kerr rolled his eyes and looked away, unable to meet Kress’ gaze.
But Kress was unforgiving.
“So she pulled you into this, did she?” he said, looking at the knight who refused to look at him. “I thought you had better sense than that.”
Kerr scratched his neck, unhappily. “I had no choice, my lord,” he said in a faint Scots accent. “She was coming with or without me. I couldna let her go alone.”
“You will not speak as if I am not here,” Catherine said, looking straight at her husband. “You were away and I wanted to go into town.”
He frowned at her, struggling with his temper. “You waited until I was gone before deciding you needed to go into town,” he said, holding up a finger to silence her when she opened her mouth to argue. “Do not deny it, for I know it is true. Kerr, leave us. I will deal with you when I get back to the fortress.”
Happily, Kerr spurred his horse onward, thundering back down the road beneath the clear and sunny skies that summers in Scotland often brought. It was a beautiful day, with a soft sea breeze blowing in from the north. But beneath that lovely sky, a battle of sorts was about to happen. When Kerr was out of earshot, Kress shook his head reproachfully at his wandering wife.
“Why did you force him into your scheme?” he demanded softly. “Cadie…”
Catherine gasped at the use of her real name outside of the privacy of their bedchamber. They had agreed to never use her name where anyone could overhear the truth of her identity. In Scotland, she was Catherine, Lady de Rhydian, for Cadelyn of Vendotia had ceased to exist.
That persona had died the day they’d fled Longton.
Gone.
But Kress knew her fears and he calmed her. “Cadie, no one is around to hear. Focus on what I am to tell you. Kerr is responsible for you when I am away and you put him in a very bad position. It is not fair to him.”
