“Why?”
“Because she is feisty and speaks her mind,” he said. “The woman rules her house and hold with an iron fist. No one goes against Lady St. Hèver and lives to tell the tale.”
Ellowyn wound her hands around his forearm, gazing sweetly up at him. “Am I feisty?”
“You are indeed.”
“Most men do not like that quality in a woman.”
“I am not most men.”
She laughed softly as they began to take the terrible steps. In fact, she held on to Brandt tightly as they mounted them. She was careful to watch her feet as she climbed.
“Brandt,” she said, picking up her skirts so she wouldn’t trip. “Do you think we can put some kind of a rope or rail along these stairs? I am always afraid I am going to break my neck on them.”
He looked at the steps, at the slope. “If it would make you comfortable.”
“It would.”
“Then it shall be done.”
Happy, she continued to hold on to him tightly as they proceeded up the steps. They were nearly to the top when a shout from below caught their attention. They turned to see Dylan waving a hand at them, taking the steps very quickly.
“What is it?” Brandt asked as the man drew close.
Dylan was focused intently on him. “Reports, my lord,” he said. “Our patrols are telling us that they have sighted an army about three leagues out. It is a big army, my lord, and unlikely that it is my brother.”
“Colors?”
“He could not see, but he thought green and yellow.”
Brandt knew who it was without another word. “De Nerra,” he muttered, somewhat agitated. “St. Hèver just brought six hundred men into the fold not two hours ago. Why did he not see this army on his tail?”
“Because Brennan came in from the westerly road,” Dylan said. “This army is coming in from the north, well-shielded in the vales.”
Brandt’s jaw ticked, irritated, but he accepted the explanation. Brennan was an excellent knight and very astute. He would not have missed something like this.Am I trying to find fault with the man now?Brandt shrugged off the thought.
“Then mobilize the men,” he commanded. “De Nerra has finally caught up to us. Lock down the castle. All men to their posts. Put St. Hèver’s men on the walls as well. Get everyone out of the bailey. And roll out the mangonels.”
Dylan was already on the move, calmly and efficiently. Ellowyn watched him go, apprehension in her heart as she turned to her husband.
“So he has come,” she said softly. “We have been so peaceful and happy the last few days… I had forgotten. I was hoping he would not come at all.”
Brandt patted her hand. “I did not forget and I knew he would come,” he said quietly. “It was simply a matter of when. If a man took my daughter, I would chase him down as well.”
She looked up at him, his handsome face in the sunlight. “If it is my father,” she said, “please let me speak with him. I will tell him we are married and that he will have to accept it.”
Brandt began to lead her up the last few steps to the top of the motte. His manner was very composed. “You are going to stay safely bottled up in the keep.”
She held on to him as he took her to the top before releasing him. “Please, Brandt,” she begged quietly. “My father will listen to me.”
Brandt cupped her sweet face and kissed her on the mouth. “For now, I want you in the keep,” he reiterated. “If your father starts a battle right away, I do not want to chance you getting injured. If I need you, or if there is the opportunity for you to speak with your father, I will come for you. Do you understand?”
She was unhappy but she nodded her head. “But I am sure that I can….”
He cut her off with another kiss and took her hand, nearly dragging her to the keep. “What did I tell you earlier when we discussed your father and his need to regain you, Wynny? What did I say?”
She pouted as he pulled her along. “I do not know.”
