Waves of Sorrow

By Julie Visser

Kept in seclusion by her father until all memory of her was forgotten, Linet has become a fearful woman of introspection and independence. When she is suddenly whisked away to claim a future she had once dreamed of but now doesn't want, she must quickly become someone she doesn't recognize in an effort to endure what she now is. Hidden as a babe to escape his father's wrath, Muireach has emerged from his humbled beginnings to claim his birthright of Igden. His past has been forgotten and his future more than secured. Yet, with the fulfillment of the king's edict, circumstances which he has ignored for the whole of his life have emerged to threaten everything he holds dear. A father's betrayal, a mother's death, a brother's scheme... She was the daughter secretly shunned, and he the son who had never been wanted. Now, as their paths merge and they begin to travel the road upon which they have both been cruelly thrust, can they together learn to entrust their uncertain future to the God of Igden's wayward priest? Or will the waves of sorrow which have so long threatened to overpower them both, finally prevail?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Covenant Books, Inc.
• Release date: Aug 30, 2018
• ISBN: 9781643003757

Book preview

Chapter One

It’s your duty to care for her, not lock her within her chamber for an eternity!

From beneath her veil and hidden deep within the dark folds of her hooded cloak, Linet’s eyes remained fixed on the ground that moved swiftly beneath Sidus’s powerful hooves, absently admiring the soft brilliance of the moss upon which he tread. Tears stung her eyes as with strength, Eadgar’s voice returned.

Nearly two weeks had passed since she had overheard the conversation between her father and brother, yet still their words swirled about within her; festering. Eadgar had been angry, an emotion so foreign for him that she had been stunned when she had heard it. Indeed, she had halted so swiftly outside the door of the chamber that, had she not reached out to steady herself against the wall of the alcove as she passed by, she would have toppled to the ground from the continued force of her forward movement. She herself understood such anger better than most since her father’s temper often found root within her own hot head, but Eadgar was ever soft-spoken and levelheaded. Never before had she heard him so upset.

I have five children, you fool, while you are not yet even wed. You’re unfit to even attempt giving me such advice! I know well how to care for her; she lacks nothing.

Her father’s rebuke had been harsh; his voice filled with just as much fury as Eadgar’s. Yet anger from him was no surprise, for the war duke of Camden’s quick temper was legendary. Even now, as they made their way northward toward her future, she could feel his anger pulsating on the still morning air, despite the rows of soldiers that separated him from where she rode. Those who surrounded her must also have sensed it, for they travelled in complete silence, unwilling to bring the quick temper of the king’s war duke down upon their heads. Then again, she mused silently, perhaps they kept their peace simply because they were riding in the presence of a woman they were sworn to protect but hadn’t known existed until the king’s missive had arrived.

Nay father, she does lack. There are needs which go beyond physical necessities that are far more important than mere sustenance. By now, she ought to have children to tend and a husband to care for her; yet instead, she sits alone within her chamber day after day, waiting for someone to somehow discover her. You’ve kept her a prisoner here.

Linet closed her eyes as the pain of her brother’s words washed over her yet again. She tried to shove aside the emotions they evoked, attempting instead to concentrate on the gentle sway of the horse beneath her, the sounds of life within the forest around her, and the fresh scent of the morning’s rain wafting on the air.

Absently, she ran her hand along the scar which stretched across Sidus’s whither and down his left forelock. His skin quivered beneath her hand, and he jumped sideways, tossing his head in response to her touch and displacing those riding on either side of her. Despite today’s solemnity, she couldn’t hold back her smile, and her heart swelled as she patted him firmly on the shoulder. She was herself sore from the strenuous length of their journey, but although she had worried that her horse would be equally as sore as she, the damage done him by his injury seemed to have had no lasting effect on his endurance. For eight days they had been traveling, swiftly and with only a few hours rest each evening, yet it appeared as though he could have traveled much farther beyond their intended destination, which they would reach at some point today.

Despite her efforts to shove aside her thoughts, Linet felt them begin to creep back as the conversation she so desperately wished to forget again rose to the fore. Frustrated by her continued attempts to hold them at bay, she at last gave in to their insistence and, with resignation, allowed the conversation to grip her fully.

You’ve kept her a prisoner here had been Eadgar’s angry declaration, and she had been stunned by his admission. Did her brother truly believe that her father held her captive, or had he simply been gripped by anger and spoken irrationally? After hearing those words, she had silently slid into the shadows of the alcove across the passageway and pulled the cowl of her cloak farther around both her face and the veil which concealed it, effectively immersing herself in darkness as she strained to overhear the conversation coming from beyond the heavy door. She needn’t have worried, for the ensuing argument carried well down the passageway in both directions.

Her father’s voice had turned threatening. I have reasons for doing what I’ve done, and I don’t have to answer for them to you. Regardless of what you think of my methods as a father, you had no right to speak of her to Alfred!

I shouldn’t have needed to! Her brother’s retort had been equally as harsh. She’s no longer a child. She’s a woman, which you would know if you paid attention to her. Even Alfred believed that she had perished along with our mother. Someone had to do something, but no one else knew she was here!

Linet had frozen when she heard those words. Far more accurately, her heart had frozen within her as the truth of her father’s deception was fully revealed. No one knew of her existence? Her temper had flared magnificently at the revelation, causing her to fight with difficulty to maintain her control. Closing her eyes, she had willed herself to calm, studiously ignoring the things which she had heard and searching within herself for a quiet place in which to retreat. Breathing deeply, she had forced her body to relax before allowing her eyes to open so that she might listen on.

I’ve done what I’ve done because I love her. She’s all I have left of your mother, and I cannot give her up; I will not give her up! Her father was bellowing by then, his voice booming. You had no right to send her away!

Send her away? Linet’s stomach had flopped heavily. What had Eadgar done?

Aye, you loved our mother, but you’ve taken this too far. Keeping her here is hurting her. You’re well over two score and a duke of war; a soldier for the king. What would happen to her if you didn’t return from your next battle? What’s more, what if something happened to us both? Who would care for her? Roger would receive Camden, yet not even he knows she’s here, and he’s her brother! Would you truly leave it up to Mildryd to make certain she remains safe?

A long silence reigned as her father stewed. Fearing that she had lost the conversation, Linet moved forward to stand with her ear pressed against the door.

Linet may not be your mother, but she’s all I have left of her. I can’t give her up. A gusty sigh had followed and then, But I cede your point, although I still don’t agree with how you went about providing a solution without first consulting me. Was it truly necessary to send her to the farthest edge of the kingdom?

It was Eadgar’s turn to sigh heavily. You would never have consented had I spoken to you. It was never my intention to send her so far away, but Igden is right for her, and Alfred needed an alliance.

And you’ve met the man so I can be assured he’s honorable, aye? Her father’s voice had held a steely edge that bordered on a threat, and there was a great deal of hesitation before Eadgar reluctantly gave his admission.

I learned of him from the soldiers he sent to Edington, but nay, I’ve not yet met him.

You what? Walter had roared so loudly that Linet jumped. You cursed fool! You pledged my daughter to a man you’ve never met? His mother is a Scot, and his name alone savage. How do you know the man himself is not the same? Yet you would willingly send Linet to him, to live out the rest of her life?

But I—

Don’t even bother to answer! I have no need for you here so hie yourself right on back to Alfred and his conniving court. Her father’s voice had dripped with sarcasm.

If you would just—

Get. Out!

Linet had scurried back to the alcove and hidden unnoticed in the shadows as Eadgar had burst through the door and disappeared down the passageway. She had then made her own way in the opposite direction, though far more slowly than he as she had struggled to process all that she had heard. Pain had constricted within her breast—the sharpness of an emotion she had never before known and at the time couldn’t place. She had borne her way through it with difficulty and even now, struggled to identify just what it was she had felt.

Only moments after she had gained her chamber, her father had summoned her; or rather, he had summoned Allyson so that she might relay to Linet his message. It had been simple and direct: they would leave in two days’ time for Harpens Point and her wedding with Muireach of Igden. She had questioned Allyson thoroughly, but he had given her no further information and was in such a temper that she had advised not requesting more.

Linet studied what she could see of her father from where she sat atop Sidus. Everything she had believed of the last eleven years had been a lie. Well, perhaps not the entire eleven years, for surely things hadn’t started out with such dubious intentions, but somewhere along the way, they had evolved into what they were. So much pain could have been prevented if her father had been able to see her as his daughter instead of the last connection which remained between himself and his beloved Elena.

Once upon a time, he had been happy. It had certainly been before her mother’s death because she hadn’t seen him since, back when Linet had been happy as well and always excited to see him, although she never would have dared to tell him so. He had sometimes teased her gently then, always gently because she had been so timid, but he, unlike many others, was also quiet, and she had always believed that he understood her better than most. She had known then that he had loved her, for above all that she could recall of her father, she remembered well his eyes. No matter what, when he had looked at her hiding behind her mother’s skirts, those solemn dark-blue eyes had always whispered I love you, and it was the belief of what she had seen within them that had kept her so contentedly ensconced within her chambers as an apparent prisoner.

But Linet hadn’t seen her father’s eyes in eleven years.

As she had remained alone within that chamber for all those years, hoping for the day to come when her life would change, she had never truly understood what the reality of that change would entail. Now, as her past began its descent into her future, she found that the new emotions developing within her were overwhelming. The time she had spent alone hadn’t prepared her for life among others, but although the thought of her new life was petrifying, she remained steadfastly hopeful that from somewhere she would be able to muster the courage to interact with those around her. However, she wasn’t entirely certain she possessed what it was she so desperately needed.

She reached out and laid a hand against Sidus’s shoulder. Life was so much like his spots, she mused silently as she traced a finger around the white marks splashed haphazardly across the bulk of his dark body. The dark exemplified her reality while the white was akin to the dreams she had indulged in of her future and nary the two shall merge. She fingered the ridge of the gray scar which cut a great swath through the splash of color. His skin quivered as she ran her hand down its long length.

Unless pain first comes. Her hand stilled. Perhaps with pain, reality could mate with a dream, although the ensuing shades would be naught but whispers of what was once longed for.

Painfully, she shifted her thoughts from her unknown future and misplaced dreams. There was no changing any of it now. The king’s orders had been given, and there was none else with the authority to gainsay them. In truth, it was marriage she had always wished for, but this was never how it was supposed to have been—being wed at her advanced age and against her father’s will to someone she had never met and who knew nothing of who she was. The problem she faced with the force of it was that she had no desire to run a household; absolutely no desire to sit idly day after day, to command servants, sew, or oversee a daily menu as was to be expected of her. She instead needed movement, to be beneath the sun with the wind in her hair, to smell daily the musty scent of straw, sweat, and leather. It was this which she knew, and years ago, when she had at last realized that she would never marry, she hadn’t sought to hone a desire to learn anything beyond what she enjoyed.

Unsure of how to raise his young daughter, after her mother’s death, her father had decided it would be far easier to educate her alongside Eadgar under his tutor Master Odom, despite the aging scholar’s sputtering protests. Ladies, Master Odom had peered down at her with great distain, have no reason to learn the things which I teach, and to attempt doing so is a waste of time. They can’t possibly retain such knowledge.

Her father’s reply had been simple and his voice filled with fury. I ordered you to teach her, so teach her you most certainly shall. You will not be held accountable for what she’s capable of retaining so long as you do as I’ve ordered! That had been the end of the dispute, though Master Odom had made it no secret that he believed what he was doing a waste of time.

Yet none of what she had learned under Master Odom had been about the inner workings of a keep; how then was she going to run a household if she had no idea how to do so? Despondency threatened to take hold, but Linet pulled herself upright and strengthened her resolve. She attempted to again focus her mind on the present, away from the painful memories of her past and the uncertainty of her near future. She would give herself time to dwell on them later. Taking long, even breaths, she stilled her shaking hands. Although she was bluffing, and well she knew it, she at least appeared to have the courage she wished for.

Right now, she wanted nothing more than to enjoy the last leg of her journey without the pressure of the unknown weighing her down; to take pleasure in the strength of Sidus beneath her, to smell the pleasant aroma of the forest after the morning’s rain, and to hear the songs of the birds as they chirped from someplace in the distance. She hadn’t yet decided if she was headed away from her freedom or toward it, but right now, she chose not to care; whatever it was called, at least it was something new.

The castle rose imposingly from the cliff’s face, a great mass of turrets and towers piled atop one another; stone upon stone upon massive stone, each vying against the other for recognition. Several of them were new, Muireach noticed with disgust, new enough that they hadn’t been there nine years ago. Nothing at Harpens Point was done simply; on the contrary, everything was exaggerated and overdramatized. For whatever reason, his sire had an innate desire to lord his superior station over everything which moved the earth, right down to the conspicuous turrets adorning his castle, and Muireach found the brazen display of wealth sickening.

At the base of the cliff sprawled a village, which was no more remarkable than any other village which dotted the countryside. The homes were grouped just as tightly around one another with smoke drifting languidly into the sky from cottages and outdoor pits. A company of riders made their way toward the winding path at the base of the cliff, a path which would take them straight into the heart of Harpens Point. Men, women, and children had assembled along the road which led through the village, straining to catch a glimpse of the great war duke of Camden who rode at the head of the column. At his side was the king’s proxy, a small, thin man who was, no doubt, a very high-ranking official. A man Muireach should probably know and really wasn’t bothered enough to care that he didn’t. He had no political aspirations, no ambition for wealth or greater title. His only desire was to be left alone to inhabit his home in peace and obscurity.

The lord of Igden stood quietly in the midst of the forest, hidden deep within its dark shadows as he watched the company of men with avid awareness. The duke had arrived more swiftly than he had anticipated, though no doubt their haste was a result of his having chosen to travel without the accompaniment of caravan or wagon, typically a necessary commodity when transporting a member of the nobility. He hadn’t expected them to arrive for several days, full caravan in tow.

His betrothed rode among the men, surrounded by Camden’s soldiers and followed fore and aft by the king’s; at least threescore collectively. Muireach was curiously impressed with the man’s apparent need to secure her safety. Only a fool would dare to brave such a multitude of armory, and the king’s guardsmen alone would have easily sufficed. Of the girl, he caught only a glimpse, a flash of dark cloak as they exited the forest. She was a tiny thing, he noted with surprise as he eyed the massive form of Camden, barely the size of a large child. She rode astride a prancing speckled beast, which bore a thick nasty scar stretching across the shoulder and down to its forelock. How it could survive such an injury was beyond him.

He sighed and drew a hand through his hair in exasperation. Leave it to the king to send a child to wife for the sake of an alliance. If he had wanted a wife, he would have chosen one years ago; a woman who was strong, durable, intelligent, and well able to defend herself when the situation warranted such. The pampered daughter of the king’s duke, spoiled by the throes of wealth and illusion of beauty via trinkets and jewels, wasn’t in the least what he would have chosen had it been left for him to do so. The simple richness of Igden was found in the beauty of its land and largesse of its larder, not in wealth by coin or jewel.

Nay, Muireach had no desire for a wife, nor did he have a need for one, but if an alliance the king wanted, an alliance the king would get. He was not so great a fool that he would willingly defy him simply because he had no desire to be wed. Nor was he foolish enough to not recognize that an alliance with the king and his soldiers at Camden was desirable, ensuring Igden’s safety for years to come.

A wife, he scoffed to himself in disbelief. What would he do with a wife? He didn’t even have a place to accommodate one. Igden had been decimated by the Vikings, who had left his walls torn to the ground and a great heap of rubble where the keep had once stood. When he had arrived twelve years ago to claim his birthright, he had found little more than a village terrorized mercilessly by his sire’s heavily armed soldiers. After booting those soldiers back from whence they had come, he had begun the process of building his fortress, starting by securing the walls before turning his focus to the keep.

But his plans had changed drastically several years ago. Actually, he brooded darkly as he folded his arms across his chest and stared at the castle which rose before him, the change had come on a single day nine years ago. On that day, his sire’s attempt to destroy everything he desired had resurfaced, and he had vowed then never to return to this dreadful place. To him, the castle which rose before his eyes was merely the place of his birth. Never had his father been anyone more than the man who had sired him and never once had he ever called Harpens Point home. On that day those nine years ago, the work on Igden’s keep had ceased, and he had instead, turned his attentions to further fortifying and securing Igden’s walls. His keep had remained as it was, mostly built and forgotten.

Abruptly, Muireach turned his back on the castle and made his way deeper into the forest.

Chapter Two

Linet woke slowly, opening her eyes to find that she was in the same small chamber she had been shown to the day before. With a groan, she rolled to her back and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, but they were gritty and focused with difficulty. It had been days since she had slept in the comfort of a bed, and she wanted nothing more than to roll again to her side, pull the covers over her head, and let sleep claim her once more.

The night had been far too short and the weeks of travel exhausting. But thankfully, her arrival at Harpens Point had been blissfully uneventful. When Linet had slid from Sidus’s back within Harpens Point’s courtyard, she had felt an overwhelming sense of exhaustion sweep over her. Unable to focus on anything beyond keeping herself upright, she had filed into position behind her father, following him into the hall with her face downcast and the cowl of her cloak pulled up for added comfort, even though it was her ever-present veil that had concealed her features. Her father had continued to ignore her and turned to speak with the man who had met them just within the doorway, but when an older woman had approached with the promise of a place to rest, Linet had followed her without question, leaving her father to continue his conversation alone.

She had been led toward a staircase near the back of the hall, and as she had followed her escort, Linet had noticed a woman at the end of it who was watching her intently. She stood near the doorway to the stairwell, regal and tall and dressed in a simple gown the color of cream. Her golden hair was pulled loosely back from her face, threaded with pearls and wound about her head, the excess cascading in shimmering waves down her back and across her shoulders.

Confident her cowl would conceal her adequately, Linet had held the woman’s gaze as well as she could beneath the cover of her veil, startled by her arresting appearance. Her young round face was beautiful with her skin creamy white and her magnificent eyes, an intense aquamarine blue. A young boy stood at her side, perhaps six years old. He was tall, slender, and fair, with his mother’s golden hair and strikingly brilliant eyes. Yet the woman had watched Linet far too closely for comfort, and she had dropped her gaze as she neared, passing by in silence and disappearing into the stairwell behind her escort as she was led to the chamber provided. It had housed little more than a bed, but that had been enough, and she had fallen blissfully and immediately into sleep.

Now, as Linet lay upon that same bed which she had been granted, she took quick stock of her surroundings. The room was far smaller than her chamber in Camden and was occupied by only her trunk in one corner and a small table with a basin pushed into another. With a sigh, she shoved aside the covers and swung her feet to the floor, shivering as the cool air permeated her thin clothing. She would have loved to enjoy the warmth of the bed for a bit longer but was unaccustomed to sleeping late and suspected she had slept long past dawn already.

The water in the basin was cold, but nevertheless, she did her best to remove her travel grime using the coarse lump of soap which had been provided, shivering as the chill air breathed across her damp skin. Her task complete, she crossed to the trunk in search of warmth and wondered how anything presentable could possibly have been formed in the two days between Eadgar’s arrival and their departure from Camden. But then, she was small, and surely there had been something lying about that had been altered to fit her slight frame.

The light within the chamber was dim, and Linet struggled to see into the trunk beyond her own shadow which fell across it. Reaching her hands inside, she began to rummage. The top was filled with linens, and she hastily slipped a sleek undergarment over her head; seeking warmth as quickly as possible, though the thin fabric did little to ward off the chill.

It wasn’t until she plunged into the trunk a second time that she felt the woolen undertunic. She pulled the magnificently soft fabric from her chest with shaking hands, turning to what light the torch afforded her so that she might examine it. The garment was soft and tinted the color of wheat; its weave loose but thick with the sleeves clinging tightly the length of the arm to the wrist. She fingered the soft fabric with wonder, but tears quickly pooled. She laid it on the bed gently before turning away, working to conceal her pain as she took a deep shuttering breath. Shivering, she returned to the trunk and began to remove yet more of its contents.

The top was filled with the sleek undergarments and below them, yet more of the soft woolen undertunics of varying shades. Last of all, she reached down and pulled out a magnificent gown of fine Italian silk. It was deep green with long tapered sleeves that were tightly fitted at the shoulder but opened wide at the wrist. Pale silver thread was embroidered into soft patterns that swirled about and intricately entwined themselves along the bodice and hem before circling its girth to meet together below the ties that would lace the gown in the back.

The tears which before had only threatened began to spill down Linet’s cheeks as she held the garment, though only for a moment before she lay it reverently upon the bed and returned to the trunk. It was filled with yet more of the same: beautiful silken gowns the quality of which far exceeded anything formed upon these secluded isles.

Linet removed a coverlet from the bed and wrapped it around herself for warmth, then sat on the edge of it and stared at the gown. Memories flooded her: this same gown swishing before her eyes as it hugged her mother’s small frame; the silken feel beneath her fingers as she clung to it and the comfort which had so enveloped her when hiding behind it. Silvery tinkles of her mother’s laughter filled the small chamber, and she closed her eyes against the wracking pain which engulfed her.

How could her father have been so callous? Her mother had been her world. As a child, Linet had been fearful and had lived in constant terror of everything, unable to function beyond the folds of her mother’s skirt. Her death had been devastating, for she had been Linet’s only source of comfort.

In a way, Linet understood the why of what her father had done, or at least, his mental reasoning behind it. The daughter of the king’s only war duke must be dressed in only the finest. A woman’s image is, as Master Odom had so often reminded her, the only thing which she has at her disposal. It would be an affront to her father’s grand image if she were showcased in anything less than the finest, and what she had worn for the past eleven years would never have sufficed.

But the pain.

Linet groaned as it ripped through her. Did he not know that wearing her mother’s gowns would cause her intense heartache? Though she had been gone for eleven years, her mother’s death had been difficult for her to overcome, and she had discovered that it was much easier to bear by pushing the pain aside and ignoring it rather than facing it head on. Yet, as Linet sat upon the bed and stared at what she was expected to don, the full weight of that pain, the emotions which she had once thought so carefully contained, surged forth to overwhelm her.

Curled beneath the coverlet, she sat in the darkness of the chamber for what seemed like hours before she stirred, moving to the trunk to find in the bottom a small vial and comb. Pulling one of the soft woolen undertunics over her head for warmth, she sat wrapped within the coverlet and began to work the contents of the vial into her tangled mass of curls.

As her hands worked, the movements began to give her some measure of control, and she carefully worked to resecure the wayward emotions which surged through her so violently.

It wasn’t until she heard a loud rap on the door that Linet remembered she had bolted it the night before. Whether it was this chamber alone or all of Harpens Point she wasn’t sure, but as she had entered, an aura of unease had grown quickly within her. When the woman had left her alone in the unfamiliar confines of this room, Linet had hesitated only briefly before shoving the bolt home.

Her tangled curls were now tamed and covered demurely by a simple silken veil that matched the dress she wore. Although she was not yet recovered from having chosen to slip the gown upon her slight frame, she had decided that she would not be exiting the chamber without wearing clothing and so, would have no choice but to become used to the idea of wearing them, even if for only a short while. And she had rested more easily with the pleasant thought that her father’s second wife would not now be granted care of yet more of her mother’s possessions.

As Linet moved forward to answer the door, she pulled the veil well over her face, relaxing as she felt its security envelop her. Hung in this way, so long as she kept her face downcast, she was bathed completely in shadows. Allyson had always positioned it so, and should her father have stumbled upon her as she had traversed the passages of Camden, he would never have known it was she. Even though her subterfuge served her no purpose this day, the security the veil had so often afforded her in the past was a necessary comfort which for now she was unable to forego.

The knock belonged to a young girl who swiftly but roughly secured the laces of her gown. It seemed to Linet that she pulled them much tighter than necessary so that she could scarcely breathe. As the servant worked, she muttered under her breath in a language she didn’t recognize, but she did her best to ignore those angry mutterings and worked instead to ease her body’s trembling. She wished her father hadn’t forbidden Allyson to accompany her, for she missed her young friend’s gentle touch and commanding presence. This girl’s demeanor wasn’t pleasant, and Linet hoped it wasn’t a sign of what was to become of her stay in Harpens Point, however brief.

When she had completed the task for which she had apparently been sent, the servant moved to the door but hesitated before exiting.

Lord Cairling, the girl spoke the name of the king’s proxy with great deference, wishes to return to the king’s side on the morrow and insists the ceremony take place before supper. You will be retrieved within the hour. The girl’s accent was heavy but no more difficult to interpret than Allyson’s, and she muttered something Linet didn’t recognize before she turned and disappeared through the door, shutting it loudly behind her.

Linet stared at the closed door in stunned silence. Before the evening meal? Had she truly slept for so long, or had she been waiting alone in this chamber for a small eternity? She had no way of knowing which was true, but when the import of the girl’s words in their entirety penetrated, she felt panic rise.

There was only one thing which could be termed the ceremony, and as she realized that her wedding would take place within the hour, she began silently attempting to convince herself that such a thing was a terrible idea, though how she could possibly avoid it, she didn’t know. She had expected that she would be given, at the least, a few days to adjust rather than only a few short moments and had hoped to deal with her nerves as the time neared.

Numbly, she returned to the bed. It wasn’t a pleasant passage of time, this second bout of waiting, and she found that as she sat alone in the semidarkness, there was nothing to haunt her but her thoughts and sad memories. She struggled to keep them down, but doing so was difficult.

Questions assailed her: what would her husband be like? Short or tall? Dark or fair? Attempting to guess was futile, so she did her best to shove such questions aside. But although it would serve her not at all to worry, she couldn’t seem to stop them from arising. Despite her efforts, the building of her list continued. Round or slender? Elegant or coarse? Kind and pleasant, or savage and cruel?

When at last a second knock sounded, Linet flew from the bed to answer it, relieved for any reprieve from her mind’s wanderings since the unknown was driving her mad. Opening the door revealed a second servant who silently led her up, down, and around passageways until she was thoroughly lost, eventually stopping at the door to yet another chamber. By now, her nerves were nearly unbearable, and her body filled with tension. Before she could bring herself to enter the chamber, she took a shaky breath, squared her shoulders, and, although her eyes were on her feet and her face hidden in shadows, stood to her full height. What she would find beyond the door she didn’t know, but at least she would enter with the illusion of confidence.

Prodded sharply by the servant’s insistent fingers, she filed silently into the room and the place which had been reserved for her, silken skirts swishing softly in the great quiet within. Her father stood to her left, tall and radiating power with energy exuding from every pore of his being, much as it had for the whole of their ride. To her right stood a second man who, although he wasn’t as broad as her father, was at least a few inches taller. Even as she stood to her full height, the top of her head barely reached to his chest. Radiating his own message of careful restraint, the man was dressed entirely in black: black tunic, black trousers and—she glanced at his feet to note with a wry smile— even black boots.

The three of them stood side by side in the middle of the chamber facing a priest who, when she had arrived in position, inclined his head to begin the ceremony. But when Linet heard his voice, she jumped, and her head jerked about to study him intently. The accent with which he spoke was the same as her mother’s had been and his voice was strangely familiar. It wasn’t nearly as heavy and was definitively masculine, but there was no mistaking it: this priest was of Italian birth.

She caught the eye of the priest when she jumped, causing him to look down at her, and as he looked down, he caught also a glimpse of her face, for she had tipped her head sharply to look at him. When he saw her, the breath in his lungs ceased, and he stumbled over his words, stared at her for a moment, and then looked quickly away to clear his throat before continuing.

Although she didn’t recognize the man, Linet was shaken by the familiarity of his voice and found herself unable to focus on what was being said. Whatever it was, it must have made sense to the others because they began speaking in turn, but when at last a question was directed at her, she found herself answering in the same manner as the dark stranger to her right. Her breathing became ragged, and the world seemed to slow. Could it truly be possible that this dark giant was to become, in only a few short moments, her husband?

She glanced at him sidelong, her mouth agape. He was older than she had expected by a fair amount, and so, because he stood opposite her father, she had assumed he was serving a similar purpose, for she had never attended a wedding to know otherwise. But when her father moved away and they two were left to face the priest alone, she began to tremble. Eadgar was a fool, she decided numbly, by having sent her to wed such a giant.

The king’s proxy stepped forward—small, thin, and balding—and produced a large piece of parchment upon which had been sprawled the full extent of the contract. Linet did her best to close her ears to the offers but found she had no choice but to listen. Belying his size, the man’s voice resonated with great clarity as he slowly and loudly read the conditions of her sale.

The terms surprised her. Her father had given far too much for her, and she found it unsettling. She had been well-schooled by Master Odom and understood well the extent of what her father had granted to this lord of Igden. She knew also that he had likely nearly doubled the man’s wealth today. A single item would have sufficed, yet her father had given many, including within that sum a parcel of land with the title Dulith, of which she had never heard. Numbly, she listened as the Lord Cairling read:

I, Alfred, the King of Wessex, the King of East Anglia, the King of Mercia, and the King of Northumbria, via Morton of Cairling as proxy, do hereby declare that as a display of my acceptance and approval of this union and in recognition of the procured land of Dulith by Igden, do bestow on Muireach the title of Baron, to be effected this twenty-third day of October…

Linet heard no more. She was again in shock; her mind slowing to a numbing pace. The man to her right had gone also still, and she heard a whispered exclamation from somewhere behind her. If this man became a baron, then at the wedding’s conclusion, she would be a baroness. This was not what she wanted! It would be difficult enough to be the wife of a lord; to become, instead, the wife of a baron would be doubly unpleasant. Panic rose within her, but she hastily shoved her emotions aside, into that place within her mind that she had so recently discovered and which, as of late, was becoming rather full.

The wedding continued without her. Again, the priest spoke, this time in Latin, but she found that her mind had no desire to translate. Instead, she let the words which he said roll off of her without comprehension as she took deep, even breaths to maintain what little composure she retained.

She recited her vows dutifully as the priest gave them to her, heard the man on her right do the same, and then the contract was procured to be signed, first by her husband, and then, she briefly stilled her own trembling hand so that she might write her name in the ornate letters Master Odom had insisted she use. Then, her father moved forward, as did the king’s proxy, and last of all, a man she assumed must be the baron of Harpens Point.

The deed was done, the parchment left on a table for the ink to dry, and the room cleared quickly until it was bereft of all, save herself and the baron of Igden.

Chapter Three

They stood silently for several minutes, and Linet remained still with her gaze on her feet as Muireach turned to face her. She was taller than she had appeared atop that massive beast, but still she was small, the top of her head barely reaching his chest. She gave the appearance of confidence with her shoulders squared and back straight, yet her head was bowed, and her hands clasped so tightly in front of her that together, they belied her feigned courage. He could see nothing else of her. Doing her best to look everywhere except at him, she was careful to keep her face downcast and bathed in shadows. Narrowing his eyes, Muireach wondered what was being concealed beneath her veil. A disfigurement, most likely, which would explain the generosity of the king and of her father as they, without a doubt, attempted to incentivize him so that when at last her face was revealed, he would not cry foul.

Oh, how his sire would gloat and Iona preen when they discovered that his wife was disfigured, but then again, perhaps not. His sire was furious. Muireach had heard his exclamation when he had been given his elevated status, and it was far more likely they would intend for the girl to pay dearly for what had been done this day. Muireach looked over at his newly made wife with pity. The next few months may very well be a nightmare.

A meal has been prepared, he spoke at last, his voice loud in the silence of the empty room. The last thing he wanted was to take a meal with his sire, but at the least, he ought to appear congenial while the king’s war duke was in attendance.

Linet paused for a moment before her head shifted to nod slowly. I suppose food is necessary. Her voice was small