Medieval 02 - Forbidden

Winterlance,” Erik said, “married or no.”
    Amber simply smiled, shook her head, and said, “You have done a grand job preparing Sea Home.”
    “Thank you. Talking to knights who came back from the Holy Land gave me many ideas.”
    “Not to mention the Normans,” Duncan said. “They are masters of motte and bailey construction.”
    “Aye. I don’t intend to lose my land to the Norman usurpers.”
    “Are you expecting trouble soon?”
    “Why do you ask?” Erik said sharply.
    “Your laborers have the look of a long, hard summer behind them.”
    Erik watched Duncan for the space of several breaths. There was nothing about Duncan’s posture or eyes that suggested a man asking questions for a hidden purpose.
    Far from it. Duncan was one of the most open men Erik had ever encountered. He would have staked a great deal on Duncan’s basic honesty.
    In fact, Erik already had.
    Leaving Duncan with Amber had been a calculated risk, even with Egbert’s constant presence. But in all the days of enforced closeness, Amber had learned nothing that suggested Duncan was a Norman wolf disguised as a nameless Saxon sheep.
    “Of all my father’s holdings, Sea Home is the most vulnerable to Norman interference,” Erik said bluntly. “My cousins also covet it.”
    “Because it guards the sea approach to the Disputed Lands?” Duncan asked.
    “Does it?” Erik asked gently. “Your eyes see very far in this stew of rain and cloud.”
    Amber gave Erik a wary look. Whenever he took that special, gentle tone of voice, wise men looked for a place to hide.
    “There would be no other reason to have a keep here at the edge of unproductive salt fens,” Duncan said. “There is no narrowing of the sea, no cliffs, no river passage, no natural ramparts, nothing to use against an enemy but what you build yourself.”
    “Apparently strategy was part of your learning in the time that you don’t remember,” Erik said.
    “All leaders should know how to choose the time and the place of their battles.”
    “Were you such a man?” Erik asked softly. “Did you lead others rather than follow?”
    Afraid not to speak, afraid to speak, Amber held her breath and waited for Duncan’s answer.
    “I think…yes,” Duncan said.
    “You don’t sound certain,” Erik retorted.
    “It’s difficult to be certain without memory,” Duncan said crisply.
    “If you remember, tell me. I have use for men who can lead others.”
    “Defending Stone Ring Keep?”
    “Aye,” Erik said. “The Norsemen covet it as much as they covet Winterlance.”
    “And Sea Home is coveted by Normans.”
    “So is Stone Ring Keep.”
    A chill came over Amber. The challenge in Erik’s voice was subtle, but unmistakable. Memories of her conversation with Erik on the night that Duncan had been found echoed through her.
    Then the rumor is true? A Norman granted his Saxon enemy the right to rule Stone Ring Keep ?
    Aye. But Duncan is no longer Dominic’s enemy. The Scots Hammer swore fealty to Dominic at the point of a sword .
    “Your father is lucky to have a strong son,” Duncan said matter-of-factly. “It’s the nature of men to fight for honor, God, and land.”
    “Especially land like Sea Home,” Erik agreed. “It’s the richest of my father’s holdings. The pastures fatten many cattle and sheep. The sea yields fresh fish all year. The croplands are fertile. Waterfowl abound in the fens and deer are thick in the forests.”
    Duncan heard the clear love of land in Erik’s voice and knew a swift stroke of jealousy.
    “It would be a fine thing to have land,” Duncan said softly.
    “Oh, no,” groaned Erik in mock despair. “Not another lout in armor pining to take Sea Home from me!”
    “Sea Home? Nay,” Duncan said, smiling. “The land around Stone Ring Keep is more to my liking. Higher, rockier, wilder.”
    Amber closed her eyes and prayed that Erik would see in Duncan only what she was seeing—a man speaking the truth among people he considered his friends.
    “I prefer the salt wind and the cry of sea eagles,” Erik said.
    “You have them, and Stone Ring Keep besides,” Duncan said.
    “So long as I hold them, yes. In the Disputed Lands, a man’s future is only as long as his sword arm.”
    Duncan laughed. “The gleam in your eye says you don’t regret being tested.”
    “You have the same gleam in yours,” Erik retorted.
    Amber opened her eyes and let out her breath in relief. Erik was teasing Duncan as he would a