They were a silent procession, each man ill at ease. Rafe was uncomfortable in the knowledge that whatever it was that Rand wanted, he had a certain amount of leverage. Rand knew that Adele thought him to be Finan. Still, he had the same information concerning Rand, but was it really worth anything? After all, what use was the deception to Rand now that Adele was here where Rafe could protect her? Surely the threat of exposure could mean nothing to him now. It mattered not whether Adele knew he was Lord Targhe’s son, as Rafe was hardly likely to let Rand get close to her and into a position where the deception would be of help to him.
Rafe took another look at Rand. The last time he had seen him Rand had been an eleven year old boy. Strange that even though sixteen years had passed since that day, he would have known him anywhere. He seemed just the same; taller and older, but still recognisable as his old playfellow. Bitterly Rafe reflected on this last thought
Playfellow.
How much his playfellow had Rand really been? They had lived together, played together, trained together: himself, Rand, Finan, Leofric, and Evoric. They had been friends, or so he had thought.
The truth was not so comfortable. Rand had left Valrek with his father, and nine days later Lord Targhe had attacked Calis. Rand had fought at his father’s side. Rafe knew that he would never forget how it had felt to draw up in battle, and see the face of a friend among those of his foes. Nor would he forget the bitterness that had welled up within his heart as he had kneeled beside Evoric. Bitterness against the House of Berron as well as that of Targhe, that their argument had caused him loss.
They arrived outside Leofric’s quarters and filed inside. It was not a large tent and, as Leofric spent most of his time with Finan, it was deserted without even the warmth of a fire. Rafe made his way to the nearest chair and slumped into it. He hadn’t rested in all his journey from Gradock, being far too fearful for Adele’s safety and all too aware that he was being followed. Now, without the desperation and anxiety pumping through his veins, he was incredibly tired. For a moment he closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the chair.
“What do you want, Rand? Other than Adele, for she is already taken.”
Rand seated himself comfortably before answering.
“To end this foolishness.”
“Speak plainly, Rand, I am tired.”
“I wish to finish the feud between our families once and for all,” responded Rand. “’Tis ridiculous and has gone on long enough.”
“I think that a feud to which a great many people have lost their lives, is a little more than foolish or ridiculous,” interposed Finan quietly.
Rand lifted his hand in a placating gesture.
“You are right: those dead deserve better than that.” He looked again at Rafe. “They deserve that their lives should mean something, they should be the means to end this.” Rafe was silent for a moment.
“You expect me to believe that?” He asked at length. “You betrayed me, Rand, you betrayed us all!” Rafe paused trying to swallow the bitterness that threatened to choke him. “You even betrayed Evoric!”
“Enough! Never say that! You have no idea what I did and why I did it! Do not dare to use Evoric against me, he was my friend as well as yours.”
“Some friend!” responded Rafe bitingly.
Rand leapt forward with a bellow and was met by an enthusiastic Rafe, they struggled dangerously together in the centre of the tent until Leofric and Finan pulled them apart.
“I do not care what you want, Rand,” panted Rafe. “I care not what right you think you have in regard to Adele, but I swear that if you ever go near her again, I will kill you.”
Rand wrenched himself from Finan’s hold and sat back down in his seat.
“I suggest you be a little more careful with your ultimata, Finn!”
Rafe struggled furiously, but Leofric maintained his hold.
“Be still, Rafe!”
His friend’s voice seemed to penetrate the fog of rage around Rafe’s brain, and he stopped his struggling. Leofric waited until he felt Rafe cease in his struggles before releasing him and turning to Rand.
“Why should we believe that you mean peace when you threaten us?”
“You have little choice,” replied Rand.
“I think you will find we have every choice.” Finan’s voice was calm.
“If it had not been for us you would be dead, and Lady Adele would have fallen into the hands of your enemies.”
Every one turned to look at Bron in surprise, having entirely forgotten his presence.
“And how did you reach that conclusion?” demanded Rafe.
“That first night you camped, if it had not been for our rescuing you from your assailants, you would have fallen.”
For a second the tent was silent and then Rafe turned to meet Rand’s eyes.
“Is that true?”
“Do you really doubt it?”
No he didn’t, he wished he could but it fitted far too well. It was why Rand had never harassed them afterwards but only followed; he had not been the one to attack them in the first place. Rafe had known it, had known that somewhere something was strange. He should not have been able to hold his assailants off long enough to escape, and those assailants must then surely have followed and captured them. They would have done precisely that had not Rand engaged them, and allowed Rafe and the ladies to escape. It was that which had puzzled him, and Rand’s explanation made everything clear.
“How did you know where Adele was?” he asked abruptly.
“It took me years to find her, she was seven before I did.”
Rafe noticed that he had not really answered the question put to him, but allowed the matter to drop.
“You should not have been able to find her at all, no matter how long or hard you tried,” replied Rafe roughly.
“If I had wanted to kill her I would have done so long ago, and there would have been nought you could do about it,” stated Rand. “That is not what this is about.”
Rafe knew it was true but somehow could not bring himself to admit it. Every time he tried all he could see was Evoric, the destruction wrought on Calis, and Rand seated upon a chestnut mount beside his father. Nausea swept over him.
“Then what is this about? What do you want, Rand?” asked Leofric.
“I told you; I want peace.”
“Why?”
Rand seemed taken aback.
“Do you not think it is time this ended?”
“It matters not what I think,” replied Leofric. “Why do you wish for peace? As I recall it was not so important to you once.”
“It is important to me now,” replied Rand stiffly.
“That is what troubles me.” Leofric’s face was uncharacteristically sombre. Without his habitual smile he seemed cold and unfriendly. “What difficulties have you gotten yourself into that you suddenly need a friend on this side of the border?”
“I suppose you would not believe that no such trouble exists?”
Leofric shook his head.
“Nevertheless you will find that it is true; my only wish is to bring comfort to Adele.”
“She has no need of your comfort!” interjected Rafe furiously.
“She is my cousin,” responded Rand with heat, “and she may be pleased to find that she has family.”
“She has no need of you; my family has been hers these sixteen years.”
“Yes, I have seen how much of a family you have been to her!”
“That is enough!” reprimanded Leofric, pushing the still standing Rafe back into his seat even as he clenched his fists as if ready to do battle with Rand again. “Considering that your family slaughtered hers, Rand, I think this is hardly a subject on which you could be considered to have freedom of speech. Rafe has safeguarded Adele and provided for her for sixteen years. He took on a responsibility that was not his own, and which he would never have needed to assume if it had not been for you and your family’s actions. I think it wou
ld be as well if you remembered that.”
“How could I forget it?” replied Rand bitterly. “Every moment of every day I am reminded of the things my family has done.”
“Do not try to distance yourself from it!” Rafe’s knuckles showed white as he gripped the arms of his chair. “You were there! You fought against us, Rand, your friends whom you had lived with in brotherhood! You forsook us!”
“I was a boy of eleven, Rafe,” answered Rand, “I knew nothing of what my father planned. All I knew was that he stood before me, demanding my allegiance, allegiance that I had to give, surely you must see that? T’was not until later that I found what my father had done, and even then there was nought I could do.”
“You could have come back to us.” It was Finan who answered him, his voice low and his gaze steady. Rand seemed surprised by his words, as though it had never crossed his mind that they would accept him back.
“And desert my mother and sister?” his voice was rough. “Leave them to the madman that my father had become? Do you think I could have lived with that? And what of the men? They had no choice but to obey my father’s command. They were put in harm’s way on account of his hatred, I had to do what I could for them. However, do not think that it was easy for me. I was torn by conflicting loyalties, and suffered agonies of which you know nothing.”
All were silent as he finished speaking, trying to sort through the various feelings and suspicions brought to the surface by his speech. Rafe wished to believe all that he had said but could not overcome, in just a few moments, the hurt and mistrust of sixteen years. Finan was perhaps the most divided as he remembered Evoric. It was Leofric who held the enviable position of most detachment: he too had loved Evoric, but then he had held Rand in the same affection.
Leofric was the only one of those present who had not beheld the horrors of Calis, and therefore the bitterness that the others felt had not been seared upon his mind in the same way.
“You said earlier that you had followed Adele because you wanted to be sure she was safe on the journey to Valrek.” It was Finan who spoke. “Is she still in danger from your father?”
“My father has been dead these four years.”
“Then who?”
Rand wrinkled his brow.
“The truth is that I do not know exactly. My father and I were acknowledged by all of Mercia to have differing opinions on most things, especially the events that had taken place at Calis. King Aethelbald’s son Penda and I had become friends. He was the only person who knew that I visited Adele, no one else. One day he came to me to tell me that he had overheard his father discussing the fact that a thurl from Wessex wished to allege himself with Mercia in much the same way my father had. I do not know who the lord is, Penda could not find out, but he wishes to kill Rafe. I believe he means to harm Adele too.”
“The men who attacked us at the first camp?” asked Rafe.
“I believe so.”
Rafe was silent for a moment.
“Someone from Wessex wishes me dead?”
Rand nodded.
“Then the only thing we can do is form a truce.” At Leofric’s words all looked toward him in much surprise. “It seems that we all wish to keep Lady Adele safe, and that we cannot trust anyone else on either side of the border.”
Rafe nodded bemusedly in agreement, but when he turned to Rand it was with a lingering frown.
“You will set up camp outside my perimeters, and you and your men will continue to leave your weapons whenever you wish to enter in among us.”
“If that is what you wish.”
“It is; if you truly do have Adele’s safety at heart, then you will understand that it is my wish to keep her away from risk that prompts me to ask this.”
“Very well; is that all?”
“We also have another problem,” interjected Leofric.
“What is that?”
“A small matter of ‘Finn’ and ‘Randwulf’.” Leofric quirked an eyebrow in Finan’s direction. “And of course, not forgetting, ‘Lord Rafe’.”
Rafe groaned and ran a weary hand across his forehead.
“I had forgotten about that,” he admitted. “Although Rand and I are in something of a predicament, there is no need for her to think that Finan is Lord Rafe. It would be best if he kept out of her way.”
Finan lifted a hand, his face losing some of its colour.
“Finan, you did not surely?”
“No, I did not!” replied Finan stung. “But you did inform Druce that he was to call me Lord Rafe while we are here. I had not time to stop him!”
Rafe clutched at his hair distractedly.
“There must be some way around this!”
“There was a way around it,” replied Finan evenly. “I should have told you that I would have no part in this foolish scheme of yours.”
“Finan surely you would not have left me so entirely?”
“Yes, I would,” answered Finan unmoved. “If I had known then what I know now, I would never have embroiled myself in this mess. Do you have any idea of the things I have been through? With Lord Merrodon trying to force my hand so that I might settle in his favour, and Lord Coughly refusing even to try and negotiate? All of this I had to keep from Fricka. Now, to crown all, I find myself playing bridegroom, a part I am singularly ill fit to play, to your bride!”
Rafe looked a little surprised as these activities were listed to him.
“’Tis perhaps not the best scheme I have ever had, I own,” he admitted, looking a little sheepish. Then he smiled. “You had best not let me catch you playing the bridegroom to Adele, Finan!”
Finan choked over the words that flooded to his lips.
“He does have a point though, Rafe. Had you better not tell Lady Adele the truth?” suggested Leofric.
Rafe’s eyes snapped into a rather cold focus.
“Perhaps it would be best if you left the care of my bride to me, Fricka?” he asked softly.
Leofric realised that he had overstepped his place, and gave an apologetic grin.
“Very well, but allow me to say this.” His eyes twinkled as he let out a low whistle. “You are a fortunate dog!”
Rafe shook his head. Leofric was the only person he knew who could have him laughing after he had just incensed him greatly.
“I have one other question,” broke in Finan. “Lady Adele said that you had been captured by Lord Gradock.”
“She was correct.”
Finan looked confused and it was Leofric who continued, his voice filled with surprise.
“But… how did you manage to escape?”
“I did not,” Rafe answered. “Lord Gradock let me go.”
Leofric spluttered incoherently, and some seconds elapsed whilst Finan slapped him on the back.
“Lord Gradock let you go? Lord Gradock?” asked Finan. “The man loathes and detests you; why would he let you go?”
“I should have made it plain that it was the new Lord Gradock.”
“Great goodness, Bertolf?” exclaimed Rand.
The room was suddenly silent and Rand, seeing the exchanged looks of the others, began to experience the uncomfortable sensation of ignorance.
“Bertolf is dead, ‘tis his brother Daegmund who rules as Lord Gradock.”
“And he…?” began Leofric.
Rafe shook his head, his eyes travelling for an infinitesimal second to where Rand stood. The gesture was slight, but Leofric saw it immediately and ceased his line of questioning.
“I think we have discussed the most pressing of the circumstances that face us.” Rafe turned to Rand. “It would be best if you went back to your men, you need to set up camp before nightfall.”
“But I wish to speak to Adele before I go!”
“You have said all that you need for today, she is very tired and so is Eda. I will not have them disturbed further.”
Rand knew that it was a perfectly reasonable sentiment, but still felt that a few
words with Adele would have settled his mind considerably. Who knew what Rafe might say to them while he was not there to hear. Rafe knew the source of Rand’s reluctance and shrugged.
“Do not worry that I shall try to poison their minds against you. For one thing it would not work, and I would only succeed in looking foolish. For another, I shall not have time: I also need to rest.”
Rand nodded grudgingly.
“Then I suppose there is nought for it but to retire to my own camp.”
He stood, glanced around the room, and gave a nod before disappearing thought the tent flap.
He left the tent in silence. Rafe had again closed his eyes and leant his head back against the chair. Finan had moved into the seat Rand had vacated, and his face was studiously devoid of expression. It fell to Leofric to pass the first comment in the conversation that must necessarily follow Rand’s departure.
“He was shorter than I remember him,” he remarked casually.
Rafe gave a shout of laughter, and Finan lifted his eyes heavenward, shaking his head.
“Had he been a veritable Goliath he would have seemed shorter than you remember.”
Leofric took this allusion to his lack of stature in childhood in good part. It was easy to when adolescence had brought him the inches he had so coveted when growing up amongst his much older friends. After a few moments Rafe’s smile faded, and they all fell back into an uncomfortable silence.
There was so much to be said, or maybe that was wrong and there was actually nothing to say. What help could there be in sharing the bitter thoughts in their minds? Rafe closed his eyes. Suppose he believed all that Rand had told him, did it make that much difference? If he could forgive, would he ever be able to forget?
His stomach heaved.
No, he would never be able to forget. Perhaps it would even be wrong to do so.
“His story seems plausible to me, Rafe,” mused Leofric. “However only you know if it fits his actions in following you.”
Rafe paused thoughtfully for a moment.
“It fits.” His voice was almost begrudging but after a moment he spoke again, his natural honesty needing to see fair play. “The truth is it fits too well for him to be lying.”
“What do you say, Finan?” asked Leofric gently.
Finan was silent, continuing to stare at the hands he held clasped so tightly together in front of him that they were by turns white and red. He knew what they were asking, after all; Evoric had been his brother. He wished he could give them that which they so evidently wanted. They always made their decisions as a unit, and Rafe would not wish to do anything without first hearing his and Leofric’s thoughts. Rafe always said that together they could see the situation clearer, without the prejudices that just one experienced.
“I am sorry; I cannot give you an opinion.” He looked up to find two pairs of anxious eyes upon him. “Whatever I say, I cannot but be swayed by personal feelings. I think then, that it would be best if I say nothing.”
“If that is how you feel, Finan, you know I will not force you,” answered Rafe. “I do not need to tell you how much your help will be missed, but I understand that for you it is much harder than the rest of us. I know how much you miss Evoric.”
Finan swallowed rather convulsively, and looked down again at his clenched hands. How much did he miss Evoric?
Somehow it was difficult to measure. Evoric’s loss had made such an impact on his life, on all of their lives. Finan had never been able to forget that, at its heart, the war to which he had lost his brother had been fought over a woman. He had kept clear of women ever since. He disliked the ease with which they caused trouble; between each other, between vying suitors, and even upon occasion between kingdoms. The thought that they could bring two men who had hitherto lived in perfect harmony and accord to murderous hatred, was one he found difficult to pardon.
He knew Calis had embittered Rafe against not only the family of Targhe but also the House of Berron, and against Lady Adele too. She had been forced upon him, a responsibility that was not really his, not that he had minded that part of it. Rafe would have done anything to help someone in need, it wasn’t that which he resented. It was that Adele was a constant reminder of Evoric’s death. He would not have been so unjust as to blame her for it, but it didn’t change the fact that every time he had thought of her it had brought back the pain of loss.
As for Leofric, even though he was only a boy at the time and didn’t understand all of that which was happening, he had known that his friends were distressed and that Evoric had gone into battle but not returned. He had spent his days trying to cheer them; behaving in the most foolish and sometimes dangerous manner, just to jolt them into some sort of action. He had hidden his own sadness from them as much as he could, not wishing to burden them with anything more.
However, it only occurred to him now to wonder what the impact had been on Rand’s life. To know your father had murdered an entire family for the sake of an old feud was bad enough, to then find that one of your best friends had lost his life fighting against the side that you yourself had fought on, must have been a punishing blow. Added to that Rand had needed to stay subject to the man that had started it all, a man whom he had lost all respect and liking for. He had been too young to do anything but leave, yet could not abandon his sister and mother to a madman, even if he could have left the pride of a noble name and lands.
Leofric stepped forward and placed a comforting hand on his friends shoulder. He didn’t know what Finan’s thoughts had been, but he had seen the troubled expression on his face.
“What did happen at Gradock, Rafe?” he asked, attempting to turn the conversation to less emotive lines.
“Daegmund had succeeded his father as Lord of Gradock, and so I was safe.”
“I do not see how that made much difference. Daegmund is known to have more than his fair share of the Gradock temper, not to mention the Gradock pride.”
Rafe struggled uncomfortably within himself as he listened to Leofric’s words. Daegmund had been fair; confusing perhaps, but fair. There were many men that Rafe could have named who, presented with the same circumstances, would have killed him without a second thought. Daegmund had been reasonable and, despite ample opportunity, had stuck to the somewhat unconventional code by which he lived.
“Daegmund is not so very like the rest of the Gradock family, Fricka. His actions were in the interests of peace.”
“Peace? What Gradock ever wanted peace?” asked Finan.
“People cannot help the name they are born to, Finan,” replied Rafe, “it does not define them.”
“Whether their name is Gradock or Targhe,” interposed Leofric.
Rafe’s brow creased and the troubled looked on his face deepened.
“That is not the same, Fricka.”
“’Tis close enough!” replied Leofric.
“He is right.”
Both men turned in surprise to Finan.
“Rand may be a Targhe, but that does not mean that he is the same as his father.” Finan’s pale eyes met those of his friends. “His reasons for his behaviour were honourable.”
Before Rafe could answer there was a commotion at the tent opening.
“Lord Rafe!”
All three men turned to stare at the small figure that rushed through the aperture of the tent and into Rafe’s arms.
“What is it, Druce?” asked Lord Rafe. “What has happened?”
Druce gulped as Rafe held him away a little.
“Lady Adele said that you had been captured!”
Rafe’s fingers stiffened convulsively, digging into Druce’s shoulders.
“Druce, you did not tell Lady Adele that I was Lord Rafe, did you?”
Druce’s face took on a warm flush of indignation.
“No, Master! You told me that while at Merrodon I was to call Master Finan, Lord Rafe.”
Rafe looked relieved for a moment before a frown settled on his brow.
>
“Well I am here now, Druce, and everything can go back to normal, but not with Lady Adele and Lady Eda. To them I am still Finan and that is how you will address me to them.”
Druce looked confused.
“If that is what you wish, Lord Rafe.”
“That is what I most fervently wish, for now,” answered Rafe, rubbing a weary hand across his eyes.
Druce observed the action with a certain amount of anxiety in his face.
“Are you well, Master?” he asked presently. “For Lady Adele did say that you had been captured on Gradock lands; she cried!”
“I am fine, Druce, ‘tis only…” Rafe stopped suddenly. “What did you say?”
Druce’s brow puckered.
“That Lady Adele said that…”
“No, no; after that.”
“You mean that she cried?” the boy asked.
With Lord Rafe’s attention so firmly fixed upon him, Druce began to forget the fear that he had felt for his master’s safety and proceed to posture importantly.
“She cried ever such a lot, Master, and even before she cried she looked…” Druce’s voice trailed off, he having no words to describe the mix of emotions that had engrossed Adele in her silence.
“She was unhappy, Druce?” prompted Rafe.
“No… maybe a little?” he corrected himself. “At first she did not speak. Lady Eda was worried I think, she kept asking her if she wanted anything. And then later I heard them talking about you.”
“About me?” asked Rafe.
Druce leaned his head to one side.
“Maybe… Lady Eda was asking what she thought of Lord Rafe.”
“Great goodness!” Finan groaned, realising that they must have been referring to him.
If he had known that the few words that he had spoken were going to be of such interest to the ladies, to be studied later in great detail, he would not have said so much. Not that he could accurately remember that which he had said.
“What did Lady Adele say?” asked Rafe.
Druce pressed both his hands over his mouth, hiding the smile that sprung to his lips.
“She said you were taller.”
Rafe smiled; it seemed such a typical thing for Adele to have said.
“And then what happened?”
“Then Lady Eda said that she was asking whether Lady Adele had liked you.”
“Lord Rafe,” corrected Rafe.
Druce looked momentarily confused and then continued on.
“And then Lady Adele said she could not tell anything from a few moments conversation, but that she already knew she was going to like you… I mean Lord Rafe.”
It was Rafe’s turn to look astonished.
“Did she say how?”
“She said she could tell by your letters,” pronounced Druce triumphantly.
“I thought you said she did not know it was you who wrote to her?” reminded Finan.
“She did not, she could not!”
“Then perhaps the child misheard.”
“I am little, not stupid!” answered Druce, pulling himself to his full height and looking very indignant. “I managed to hear the rest right, did I not?”
Leofric began to laugh.
“What ails you?” asked Finan with a touch of gruffness.
“Nothing, ‘tis merely that I like your choice of spy, Rafe!”
Rafe laughed and looked down at Druce fondly.
“Go then, Druce, we shall resume this highly interesting conversation later, but for now…” Rafe smiled apologetically across to Leofric. “I am afraid I shall have to commandeer your bed, Fricka, I believe mine is already occupied.”
“Would you care for something to eat, Master? Or drink?” asked Druce anxiously.
Rafe shook his head.
“Later, now I just need to sleep.”
Rafe made his way to the palette and Druce, darting in front of him, pulled back the covering of furs and rug. Rafe laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder, giving him a slight smile as he removed his cloak and cast himself on the bed. Druce carefully covered him, tucking the covers around his master’s weary form, before moving to set a fire in the centre of the tent.
“We shall leave you then, Rafe, you seem to be in capable hands,” smiled Leofric.
Rafe gave a grunt that left its meaning open to interpretation, and Leofric and Finan left the tent.
“Take good care of him, Druce.”
“Yes, Master Finan.”
The little boy was intent upon his task and did not look up. A few moments later he had a good blaze going, and he moved to where Rafe had discarded his cloak. Pulling up a chair nearer the fire, he spread the cloak to dry.
“What would I do without you to look after me, Druce?” asked Rafe’s sleepy voice.
“Catch cold,” replied Druce promptly.
Finan and Leofric, some yards distant from the tent, heard Rafe laugh and smiled.
Chapter Nineteen