The Dragon and the Rose: Part 2: the Confrontation

By Diane C. Hundertmark

Richard D'Cygnet has made his decisions. He reached out and grasped the power of the kingship of Westfeld. Now he must face the consequences and repercussions of what he has chosen. The challenge is to stay alive through it all.

There is still the Magic he must learn to control. Oh, and a Dragon he must work out a relationship with; and there is his Queen, his Love, the Rose of Westfeld. Never mind facing his envious stepfather, Aldric King of Calmora and Albon, as his equal.

Richard has faced the "Turning Point" in his life, but it is yet to be seen if he will survive the confrontations to come, in this thrilling conclusion to The Dragon and The Rose.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Nov 30, 2001
• ISBN: 9781475921250

Diane C. Hundertmark

The author was born and raised in Providence, Rhode Island. One of her first jobs after graduating from Katherine Gibbs School of Business was at the Providence Public Library, which provided an excellent opportunity for her to devour their wonderful collection of Fantasy and Science Fiction. She went on to study Anthropology at Rhode Island College. Still fascinated by differences in cultures, their mythologies, and beliefs, she weaves much of that into her writing. Now still has the encouragement of her daughter.

Book preview

Contents

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 1 6

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

APPENDIX

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Getting my first novel published was an adventure. However, I’ve found out the real trick is not getting the first book out, it is getting the second, and the third, and…

So, to all my fans who sent pestering emails, to all my friends who politely asked about my progress, and to Lou who graciously offered to help edit this second novel—My Deepest Thanks.

I have also learned that while writing and the creative process is an internal and almost dream state for me, the support and love of my husband and daughter are the most precious and valuable commodities to the process of preparing and sending my work out to the publisher. Thank You with all My Love.

CHAPTER 1

JOURNEY

***

All day it had drizzled and misted out of a dreary gray sky, cold and raw. He was chilled and sodden, and now the balky gray remount was refusing to cross the swirling ford swollen with the rain.

Bloody stupid animal! he cursed urging the stallion forward, Blast it! I’m soaked and so are you Bloody.

The horse kicked out and jumped aside planting his forefeet firmly in the muddy bank. With a growl Richard furiously whirled the horse around in a circle to face the ford a measure or so away. Yanking hard against the bit, it tried to bolt. Richard wrestled to gain control, cursing the farmer who’d not let the stud out for exercise for the weeks he’d had it.

Across the ford he could see Owen hunched over resting on the pommel of his saddle. His large placid black gelding had plodded across without a twitch of an ear.

This cursed creature. Blast if I’ll wade through that! Curse you horse…you will cross!

Richard drew his sword and soundly whacked the gray’s rump with the flat of the blade. With a snort and a jump the horse found itself down the bank, the water swirling around its forelegs. Squealing it reared just as Richard dug his heels in and brought the flat of the sword down once more.

Owen gave a small grin watching the gray splash, kick, and scramble out of the river. It snorted and pulled at the bit.

Looking at Richard as he steadied the plunging, fractious animal he commented, You’d gotten just as wet wading for all the splashing, My Lord.

Richard gave him a hard cold look and snarling wordlessly sheathed his sword. He turned the gray toward White Bridge’s northern gate, and urged the horse into a tight controlled gallop. The stallion continued to fight Richard for several strides.

Blast it! I’m worn, tired, soaked, and I get this…idiot farmer what does he say? Richard mimicked the farmers squeaky tones, ’fraid My Lord it’d get my cart horse, good quiet mare.’ Stupid fool! He might have gotten a foal as well as my coin, and I ‘d have a ho.

The horse bucked and kicked, and Richard grunted as the dull pain in his hands flared again. Owen drew along side, and the gray flattened its ears. Richard reached up and whacked its neck.

Stop it! Bloody stupid horse, he growled.

Owen quickly moved the black away putting space between them, and shook his head. Richard was in as foul a mood as he’d ever seen him.

The journey had started well. They had set out just after dawn. That was after Kay had convinced Richard resting for the four hours would do more for getting them to White Bridge with speed then dashing off with none.

Owen grinned, and looked askew at his friend and King. It hadn’t taken much convincing, but he wondered just how must rest there had been in those four hours.

They had reached Green Sparrow and the Singing Bird before dawn the following morning, having traveled straight through the night.

Straight through the heart of the Verdentfeld at night, Owen muttered to himself.

Reaching the inn, Richard had agreed to stop for a few hours to rest and eat. Owen laughed out loud.

Richard glared at him yelling, What is so Blasted funny?

Just remembering Martha’s very odd look when we walked into the inn together.

Richard tried to growl a complaint, but Martha’s face, eyes wide mouth open like a fish, as she’d blushed looking from one to the other, flashed in his mind. He choked on the growl and laughed tightly.

Odd? True can’t think of another word to describe it. After a moments silence he added, Thank you Owen, and slowed the gray to a long swinging trot.

Owen matched his horse’s pace to Richard’s and eyed him, Thank me? For what?

For dragging me out of my self inflicted gloom. How far? he nodded at the dark line ahead that was White Bridge.

Two, three marks…in this? Owen looked at the sky, Well it’s stopped drizzling and raining.

Aye only the mist in the air.

Less than a half a candle mark?

Not a moment too soon. I’d guess it’s near sunset.

.and the gates close, Owen finished.

They exchanged glances and urged the horses back to a hard gallop.

How the Blazes could you be this stubborn and stupid, Richard complained to himself. The first and second days had gone well. In fact they had reached the last farm in the middle of the night instead of dawn as he had thought they would. It was there things had unraveled.

He had worked on soothing the idiot farmer’s ruffled feelings at being roused at such an indecent hour with soft words and promises of more coin. Owen had gone to get the remounts saddled. That was when the gray had bit Owen, and the farmer had dropped his golden news about not having let the horse out more than once or twice.

Richard glanced at Owen. The bandage on Owen’s left forearm was half hidden under his gauntlet. He growled silently. The farmer’s fat wife had bound it up, and Richard had ranted at the man.

The night had been clear and dry with only high clouds. They should have left. But he’d been tired. Only six hours sleep if that in three days,with two of them days of hard riding. Too tired to deal with a stallion that’d been boxed up for eight weeks or so.

They slept in the barn, and with the dawn came the gray damp sky and the drizzle. Owen had hinted maybe they should head right for the main gate.

But. no, you Bloody fool you insist on heading north and crossing the River Cryee to enter the city by one of the lesser gates. So no word would be forwarded to Aldric before you reached the castle. This is what your devious folly has gotten you, a mad dash at sunset to beat being locked out. A wild ride on an idiot creature that bolted and shied at every puddle and rivulet…soaked…stiff…and cold!

The gate loomed ahead, and the unpleasant sound of the evening bells rang out. Owen let out a yell and they kicked the horses for the last bit of speed.

* * *

Henry pulled the hood of his cloak up higher and leaned on the cold damp stone of the gate wall. He cursed again the lunacy of his choice of volunteering for gate duty to avoid having to dance attention on Ardon.

Worthless bit of Princely fluff, he muttered.

Henry struggled to understand how Michael D’Bries had stayed sane. He cringed to think of Ardon as Emperor of Kananur in a few years. Obviously any leadership qualities Cybalus the First possessed had gone to his bastard daughter and down through her to Richard, because for sure Ardon had none and his father Cybalus the Second was often called a fool. He glanced up at the sky and squinted, just at the bells in the temple tolled sunset.

How in Blazes can the clerics tell. To me it’s only slightly darker then it’s been all Blasted day, he said aloud turning to the guard nearby.

Aye My Lord. I’ve never been able to figure it out.

Henry waved to the two guards below, Close the gate!

Lord, the guard pointed down the road, Two men Lord riding like Evil itself were after them!

Henry’s gaze followed the man’s gesture. Sure enough here came two riders, low over their horses necks, galloping hard. One of them yelled. What, Henry had no idea but he could fully understand their desire to get inside the walls.

Hold the gates, he called to his men, Poor sodden fools, he muttered.

The guard next to him barely caught the words, Aye, he said, their cloaks hang heavy. I’d gather they’re soaked through My Lord.

Henry nodded and watched as the two reined the barreling horses to a stop before the gate.

Who are you, he called down, that you come riding like.

The words stopped as the larger of the two men, the one on the huge black charger threw back his hood and grinned up at him.

Owen! Lord’s Blood! he peered at the other man who was dealing with the plunging gray, Richard? Come in!

They trotted under the gateway as Henry jogged down from the wall.

Robert’s been at the main gate nearly every day watching for you for a week. Why in Blazes this gate? Henry stepped aside from the prancing gray.

You don’t want to know, Richard answered giving the horse a sound whack. Stand you Bloody fool of a horse!

Henry grabbed the bridle and looked up at him, Where did you get this vicious creature?

Owen laughed, From King Aldric’s stables.

Henry, is the King here in White Bridge still? Richard asked pushing back the hood of his cloak, Or has he.

He’s here at the Castle. Guests from Kananur arrived a week or so ago, he said jerking the bit as the gray tried to bite.

Kananur? Richard frowned, Who?

Henry grinned, The Bloody heir and one of your uncles.

Richard stared at him, One of my uncles? He shrugged, Henry can you get word to Robert to tell him to meet me in my room later tonight?

Henry nodded, Sure. He’ll be thrilled to have a place to hide out. from having to entertain the fool Prince Ardon. Your room is one of the few that has not been taken over for the guests, he released the bridle skipping out of range. You should have someone to go with you to the castle gate. you look like a. Henry shook his head, .like a Blasted brigand. Alec! He waved at one of the men, Mount up and go with Sir Richard, Henry looked up at Richard, I’d not want your mother’s wrath on me if some nervous twit of a guard puts an arrow in you.

Thanks Henry, Richard turned toward the castle as Alec drew along side. Trotting down the streets of White Bridge he turned to Owen, Go wait for me or my message at the Silver Fox.

Owen nodded, Take care. he paused looking beyond to Alec who suddenly became intensely interested in his horses mane, Watch you back, Sire, he whispered low.

Richard only nodded in return and watched as Owen headed down oneof the side streets.

* * *

They were waved through the castle gate, the guard calling out a hail to Alec and giving a glare to Richard.

Guess I do look rather rough, he smirked to Alec.

That, Sir Richard is a mild description of what you look like, Alec tossed the reins of his horse to a stable lad and grabbed the gray who was snapping at the other poor lad.

Richard grunted low as he swung out of the saddle holding on as he stretched his legs, Lord’s Blood!

Alec eyed him, How long a ride? still holding the horse tight.

Since dawn and this Blasted horse has been like this all day. it should be dead on it’s feet…I am.

Alec chuckled, Got your legs back?

Richard pushed straight, Yes

I’ll see to this idiot, Richard…go dry and thaw out.

Alec headed for the stables as Richard stiffly walked toward the keep.

Stepping into the entry hall, he could hear the voices and shouts coming from the great hall beyond where the evening meal was being served. A fire was burning in the guardroom. Richard looked down at his sodden clothes and decided to dry a bit before going to the hall.

Thaw those feet…or you might fall on your face half way to the dais, he mumbled.

The guards standing by the outer door had stood ready to challenge him until he’d gotten very close and they recognized him with surprised expressions. The two in the guardroom had a similar reaction.

Richard spread his cloak on a bench and looked down at what he was wearing. Surely the fact that the hunting leathers were of Westfeld cut was not enough to cause this. He looked at them both as he pulled off his gauntlets.

It’s your clothes and your hair, Sir Richard. You look a barbarian.

My? his hand went to his head.

Blast! As they’d been leaving Rose Coeur, Mora had laughingly commented he almost looked the proper Verdentfeld hunter, and all was needed was a braid or two like Osle. Kay had roared, and he had let her shove him down on the steps and braid a couple of feathers in his hair. He had tied the rest back at the nape of his neck with a leather strap. The braids and feathers hung loose and with a few days growth of beard. He rubbed his jaw.

Yes, I guess I do look odd, Richard pulled the leather strap off and reached for the braids.

No…leave them…your Westfeld now.

Standing before the fire he could feel the two men watching him as he rubbed his hair to almost dry and warmed himself. Neither said anything, but he knew they were eyeing the sword now hanging at his side. Unlike any they’d seen he knew. In a moment or two he felt thawed out enough to head for the hall. One jumped to his feet as Richard turned snatching up his cloak.

Should I announce you’re back…Sir Richard?

No, he looked at the man and smiled, It’s a surprise for the Queen.

He pinned his still damp cloak back on with the dragon pin and tossedit back over his shoulders.

* * *

Kay rolled over and peered out the window, Still dark, Blast, she muttered, and stretched her hand out to where Richard should be curled next to her. It’s no use, I’ll not get back to sleep, she sat up pulling the covers up around her.

Two nights, she’d tossed and turned, waking several times, to rise in the morning tired and grumpy.

Where is he now? she said to the dark, Is he at White Bridge? Has he seen Aldric? Are they meeting? Stop it you silly fool.

She had to think of something. She couldn’t go on like this.

Lord’s Blood knows how many more days and nights, she groaned, will I have to wait to know he’s safe! Blast it I need to sleep.

Kay flung back the covers, and cursed softly as she paced arms crossed over her breasts. Who would have thought that seven weeks would have been enough time for it to be so familiar, so much something needed, to have his warm presence next to her? But it had, and the bed was cold and empty without him. She woke dreaming of his arms around her, his breath soft in her ear, the feeling of him deep inside her. She shivered and cursed again.

There was no one to go and wake to talk to. Elena and Julia had left yesterday, as had the others who had not left when Richard rode out. Only her father stayed, saying he would not leave until Richard returned, and of course David. He stayed because Richard had asked him to

David? Kay whispered asking herself wordlessly, No, he’d be. She shook her head and crawled back in the bed, Well think about something besides what Richard may or may not be doing, Kay snapped at herself.

Not positive it would be of any help. It hadn’t the last two nights.

The others had sworn their oaths to Richard, none with the joy of Owen’s or the depth of meaning buried in David’s, but all had sworn honestly. Kay smiled remembering as each had stepped up, grasping Richard’s hands down on one knee. She had actually felt the truth of their oaths as she had rested a hand on each bowed head as they repeated the words to her.

They had all even willingly sealed their oaths with blood when Osle had asked for it. Drawing their daggers, making shallow cuts on their forearms, and letting their blood drip into the cup Mora held. Richard had watched with outright surprise, and later told her he strongly doubted if any of his stepfathers vassals would ever be willing to do the same at his coronation. When they all had finished, Mora had poured the blood on the holy fire, binding them all together.

Kay shook her head. She found it astounding as well. Not in a hundred years or more had Westfeld’s strength been so focused or so Mora and Osle had told her. Kay could almost feel it pulsing through the land. Tied and focused through Richard. She sobbed softly, wrapping her arms around her knees.

Dickon…please Goddess, bring him back safe.

The ache grew stronger and Kay could feel the tears welling in her eyes once again. Wiping them away she leapt from the bed, pulling her linen chemise over her head.

Blast it…I need to talk to someone…and you’re it…cousin.

* * *

Sitting up in a rush, he frowned savagely at the door and raked his fingers through his long jet-black hair.

Who in Blazes? he angrily yelled.

A soft mummer was all the response he got. Grumbling and cursing he crossed to the door, hurling back the bolt.

What in Blazes? David found himself glowering down at Kay, and his tone and expression changed at the pain reflected in her eyes, Kay, what’s? You can’t have heard any.

I’m only half without him…I’m so lonely.

He silently cursed Richard, even though he understood why he had to do and be exactly where he was. David pulled Kay into a hug, ignoring the fact he’d leapt from his bed naked and was standing here freezing.

He’s fine…you’d know otherwise. he smooth her hair.

How? Kay’s voice wavered and the tears were close.

I’m not…I just know you would feel it if any thing happened…look. he held her away, Kay let me get.

I need someone to talk to David…someone to hold me….I can’t sl…It’s so cold without him.

David stared at her puzzled and getting colder by the second, Kay? What are you asking?

Just come sit with me…please? her brown eyes imploring, I need someone.

David was truly surprised, Kay asking…not commanding.

Wait let me get dressed.

Kay looked down noticing for the first time his nakedness. She smiled inwardly, no need for any embarrassment. She knew every scar; every wound on his body had been tended and stitched by her hand alone.

Go ahead get dressed just come and sit.

Shivering David dove back into his room. Quickly yanking on a pair of pants and grabbing a shirt he joined Kay. Blast you Richard, for making her need you so much.

Let’s go…we’ll sit in your study before that huge fire and you can cry on my shoulder cousin, and added silently to himself, I’ll curse you for every hour of sleep I lose Richard!

CHAPTER 2

FIRST ENCOUNTER

So Your Majesty, you must tell me more about the Earl of Rankin’s youngest son? Warren is his name, correct? The young man who entertains his Most Royal Highness Prince Ardon so? Renard asked.

Aldric was barely listening and looked away from Renard hearing the door at the far end of the hall swing open with it’s distinctive creak.

Renard chuckled, Better than having a page announce. his words died in his mouth as he followed Aldric’s gaze and gave a low gasp.

For all the world it looked like Jullian’s ghost striding into the hall.

Richard, the name a soft exclamation from Aldric.

Renard studied intently the young man who was now crossing the hall with such wonderful and dangerous arrogant grace and confidence.

Richard held himself straight, and keeping his eyes focused solely on Aldric as he walked to the dais with the most confident and arrogant attitude he could conjure up from his weary frame. He could feel the eyes and hear the low murmurs as he traversed the hall. Conversations grew still as he neared the dais. Stepping up on it he stood directly across the table from Aldric.

Richard? You look. Aldric started.

Like a common brigand, Joanna finished in a bantering tone.

Richard rested his hands on the table and nodded, I’d kneel…Sire…but I doubt if I’d get back up, he gave a wry smile.

If you feel anything like you look…I’m surprised you were able to walk in here, Aldric laughed, Welcome back Richard. Now go…rest…eat, I’ll talk to you in the morning.

Richard shook his head and Aldric’s eyes narrowed.

I have news you must hear…father, he said low.

Father? Aldric stood and in a smooth motion vaulted the table turning Richard to face him. Every eye in the hall flitted nervously between watching them and looking away.

News? Aldric held Richard by his arms, his words low barely spoken, What news? Are you straight from Westfeld?

Yes…straight through from Rose Coeur, Richard kept his eyes steady on Aldric, his voice low and neutral.

A slight frown creased Aldric’s brow, This can’t wait till morning Richard? a hint of a growl creeping in but the volume low keeping the words just to them.

No, father it can’t. Richard shivered slightly and fervently hoped Aldric thought it was from fatigue and cold.

I need to do this now…while I’m ready, was all Richard could think.

Aldric quickly ran his gaze down his stepson, taking in the braids in his hair, the odd clothes, the dragon pin and dagger still worn, and the sword. Where in Lord’s Blood did he get that? He snapped a hard look on Richard.

Does your news include an explanation of that new fancy trinket of yours and your ridiculous get up? the growl more evident.

Yes…and more…but for your ears alone.

Twice now, Aldric thought, twice he’s addressed me as father and twice as…as nothing, no title. His frown deepened.

Go, await me in my study, raising his voice to carry the hall, Go, I’ll join you shortly, Sir Richard, his look emphasizing the last two words to Richard.

Richard nodded and turned giving a slight bow to the others seated at the table.

Richard! Joanna said sharply. He looks like a…Lord’s Blood knows what.

He looked up at her and coolly said, Yes Your Majesty?

My uncle and Prince Ardon, he thought, his eyes gliding over the two men seated at the table with his mother.

I’ll have food and drink brought to the study, Joanna paused, Come here…and greet me properly you…you bedraggled ruffian, she added with a light laugh.

I’m soaked and. he looked down at his damp and mud splattered clothes, you’ll.

And I’m your mother.

Richard shrugged and palms on the table leaned over giving her a light kiss on her cheek, Why.

What have you done to your hands! she reached for them.

Nothing…blisters from the rain and a Blo…a stupid horse. Why do you insist on this always? he pulled his hands away.

She reached up and pulled one of the braids hard, Because you are my son and I love you well.

Ow! he yipped.

Then don’t wear these foolish looking things. Go and wait for your Stepfather

* * *

As his nephew left the hall Renard noticed the murmurs rise back to their normal level, though he was sure the focus of most conversations had changed. He had watched the interaction between Richard and Joanna with amusement. A young man who gave in with reluctance to his mother’s desire to coddle him and did it only to appease her.

The exchange between Aldric and Richard had been even more interesting. Cool with a visible underlying tension. Unable to hear the words, he relied on their postures of tight control and the hint of rivaling each other for position. Richard’s attire and appearance tonight evidently not expected, and from Aldric’s cold appraisal an explanation was due. Also evident was the clear indication Aldric was not pleased Richard felt what ever news he carried could not wait for his stepfather’s pleasure to receive it.

* * *

Richard slouched against the wall of the corridor a few paces from the door to the study, bent over rubbing his thighs to loosen the tightening muscles. At sound of his name he looked up to see Chris approaching, a serving maid behind her with a tray.

Dickon! she ran the last few steps and tried to hug him.

Chris…No, he hopped out of range and held her away with one hand, I’m.

I don’t care. I’m glad you’re back, she pushed his hand aside and hugged him wrinkling her nose, You smell like a pond or a wet horse, and look like a thief.

He laughed and kissed her cheek, I feel like a pond.

Come in and eat, I’ve brought hot tea as well as mulled wine, Chris pushed the door open and took the tray from the maid, Thank you Lara,

Richard scooped the tray from Chris and set it on the table, Thank you poppet. Now go and let me wait for. he brushed a wayward lock of her hair back.

Richard! she grabbed his hand, What have you done?

Nothing…look. he sighed.

As happy as he was to see Chris, he wanted her gone when Aldric came.

Chris, I’m fine…I’ll explain later, he gently pushed her toward the door, I’ve things I need to tell…father.

Chris let him herd her out the door. Things…to tell father she thought. As children whenever Richard had said that phrase it usually meant he and Robert had fallen into some mischief, and Dickon in his boyhood wisdom had decided it was better to own up then have Aldric find out from some other source. Whatever these ‘things’ were Chris was very sure it was much more than she wanted to know right now.

Richard? she spun to look at him, I’ll…I’ll wait for you in your room, Chris smiled, It’ll give me a place to be, and mother won’t pester me to entertain our pompous cousin Ardon. I’ll tell her I want to tend to these, She held up his hands.

Richard raised his brows, Henry hinted at that too when I saw him at the gate. Is Ardon so bad?

Chris simply nodded and wrinkled her nose.

Richard’s eyes widened as a thought struck him, Chris, Robert will or should be waiting for me in my room. he said with a hint of query.

Then we’ll wait together, Chris kissed him lightly, Robert has been a good watch dog, Dickon, and I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll see you later.

Closing the door behind her, Richard tried to plan what he wanted to say to Aldric. But all he could think of was how much he wanted to be back in Rose Coeur with Kay. Stripping off the still damp long sleeved leather jerkin, he spread it over the back of a chair.

Might as well eat and finish drying out, he muttered to himself.

He settled in a chair before the fire with a plate of food and a mug of the hot tea. Thoughts of her in his arms, the scent of roses and spice filled his mind.

* * *

So that bedraggled drowned rat was my cousin Richard? Ardon dragged his jeweled silk tunic over his head and tossed it on the bed, Well I can see the family resemblance, even through all that dirt and grime. He turned to look at Renard who was standing just inside the door, Those Blasted green eyes everyone in your family has!

Renard frowned at Ardon, Bedraggled, yes, but evidently our source was right. Richard came with information for Aldric…and straight from Westfeld from all indications.

Richard, the unacknowledged Prince. Not very impressive looking if you ask me…though he did strut through the hall like he owned it. He’s supposed to be this great warrior…looked more a common.

Don’t be deceived, My Prince, by his appearance. The results of four or five days hard riding…and the family resemblance? Renard sat in one of the less ornate chairs Ardon had the servants dredge up for his rooms; He is the image of his father at his age…and that arrogant grace? That is his by birth, Jullian moved in the same way.

Ardon waved absently at Renard. All well and good, but our source. he laughed, the ever entertaining Warren D’Bourcy, hinted the news may not strictly be about Westfeld. It seems my dear cousin left with a companion and returns without one.

Renard shrugged, So, Your Highness, it means nothing. Why should Warren think it would be about that? How is he even sure the man didn’t return with Richard? Just because.

He checked. Richard came alone to the castle gate with only one of the guards from the city gate to get him through. If he’d not had that man with him…my dear cousin might have sprouted an arrow or two, Ardon chuckled and sat yanking off his boots, Did you notice Robert D’Bries was absent again? Big dumb lout. He missed the grand entrance of Richard. I wonder if.

Renard looked at Ardon seething inside. Fool boy…Bloody idiot. He’s sucked up everything that obnoxious Warren D’Bourcy has spilled…poison and lies. Can’t believe Jullian’s son would turn out as bad as he’s cast, but this Blasted idiot, who is your Prince remember that, believes every word.

.I wonder if he would have thrown himself at Richard’s feet. I also noticed that Christine went missing after dinner as well…my sweet…prickly tempered cousin.

Your Highness, I wouldn’t take everything D’Bourcy feeds to you as truth. It’s very obvious, he dislikes Richard.

You defend him, Ardon whined, You do that because he’s your dead brother’s son. You’ve heard what Warren has said about the worthless.

Yes, I have, and I’ve not been able to confirm any of it, none at all, Renard interrupted.

Ardon jumped to his feet and stormed to stand in front of Renard, My Lord Renard, We have put up with the last bit of impertinence from you! And don’t mention Our Father’s orders to you. We’ve decided, Warren D’Bourcy is a worthwhile source and we will cultivate him. His father is a strong ally of Aldric’s…and.

And you my foolish Prince, know nothing of the strength of that tie between Roger D’Bourcy and Aldric, Renard finished to himself.

.You know, D’Bourcy’s sister Renee is not an unpleasant creature. perhaps.

Fool, with the way you’ve loudly and blatantly plowed your way through the taverns and houses here in White Bridge with that odorous leach Warren, I doubt if many of the Lords would be overly willing to see their daughters married to you, Renard scowled mentally

He said in his best courtier’s tone, I’m sorry Your Highness, forgive an old man forgetfulness.

Ardon stared at him, Fine, My Lord now what do you think of Renee D’Bourcy?