Medieval 02 - Forbidden

sheath.
    “Sir?” Egbert prompted.
    “Go back to your post.”
    Egbert hesitated, then turned and sped away, wondering what had caused Duncan’s expression to be as bleak as a stone carving of hell.
    Motionless, Duncan watched Dominic le Sabre canter up to Stone Ring Keep, his Glendruid wife at his side.
    “Was there any difficulty?” Dominic asked.
    Duncan shook his head.
    “For a man who has just secured his own keep without bloodletting, you look quite grim,” Dominic said, dismounting.
    “Not my keep, lord. Yours.”
    “No longer. As of this moment I give you Stone Ring Keep outright, without let or hindrance. You are lord here, Duncan, not my tenant-in-chief.”
    Smiling, Dominic watched understanding sink slowly into Duncan. Born a bastard with no name, no estate, no prospects other than his strong right arm and a burning need for land of his own…and now Duncan had that land.
    Dominic understood the complex emotions exploding in Duncan, for Dominic, too, had been born a bastard with no prospects other than his skill with a sword.
    And he, too, had won wealth and land because of that skill.
    “My own keep,” Duncan said oddly.
    He glanced around the keep as though it were new to him. In a sense, it was. He had never looked at it as his own before.
    “It hardly seems real,” Duncan said softly. “To go from a man with no name to this, all in a day…”
    A lifetime’s dream had come true. It was as solid as the cobbles beneath his feet, the weight of a sword by his side, and the smell of food from the kitchen in the bailey.
    Stone Ring Keep was his and his alone, held in fief for no other man. The keep and all its lands and people were Duncan’s as long as he could hold them with his sword and his wisdom. He was no longer Duncan of Maxwell.
    He was Duncan, Lord of Stone Ring.
    “’Tis a great gift you have given me,” Duncan said, turning back to Dominic.
    “’Tis a great gift you have given me,” Dominic countered softly, dismounting.
    “I? What have I given you save a long ride and doubts of my worthiness?”
    “You have given me what I crave above all else. Peace for Blackthorne.”
    “Peace?”
    “You returned alone to Stone Ring Keep. Had you wished it, you could have drawn up the bridge and told me to go forthwith to hell and take my knights with me.”
    “I would never—” Duncan began.
    “I know,” Dominic interrupted. “Beyond all doubt, beyond all temptation, you are a man of your word. And your word was given to me.”
    Duncan let out a long breath, feeling as though a huge weight had slipped from his shoulders.
    “With you on my north,” Dominic said, “I will never need to fear for the safety of my Carlysle estates.”
    “You have my oath on it.”
    “And you have mine, Duncan of Stone Ring. If you ever need help to defend what is yours, send word to Blackthorne. The Glendruid Wolf will come to fight by your side.”
    Clasping sword hand to sword hand, the two men sealed their vows as equals.
    “I fear that I won’t be long in claiming your aid,” Duncan said. “As soon as Amber gets to Winterlance, Erik will be on his way with more knights than I have men-at-arms.”
    “Amber?”
    “Aye,” Duncan said bleakly. “The witch will waste no time crying the word of your coming and my true name throughout the countryside.”
    “Turn around, Duncan. Tell me what you see.”
    Puzzled, Duncan turned—and saw Amber riding up to Stone Ring Keep, surrounded by the keep’s men-at-arms.
    Relief and rage warred within Duncan. He waited until the small party was across the bridge and through the gate. Then his gauntleted hand clamped around Whitefoot’s reins, bringing the mare to a stop.
    “Go about your tasks,” Duncan told the men curtly.
    The men-at-arms left without a backward look. Their speedy departure said more clearly than words that they would be quite pleased not to be within sight or sound of Duncan when he looked so fierce.
    Even Amber, braced for Duncan’s rage, knew a chill when he looked up at her with eyes as hard as agates.
    “Why did you come here?” he demanded.
    “Where else would a wife be but with her husband?”
    Duncan became utterly still.
    “Or had you forgotten we are wed?” Amber asked with a bittersweet smile.
    “I have forgotten nothing, witch .”
    The chill she had felt returned doubly, becoming fingernails of ice along her spine.
    “Then, husband, release Whitefoot so that a groom may see to her comfort.”
    Duncan