The Conquest by Jude Deveraux
Zared dismounted and left the horse some distance from the glade. Then, knife in hand, she crept back to where she'd left the man.
Dead, she thought when she saw him stretched on the ground. He was already dead, and she was too late to save him.
Tearle heard her coming from some distance off, knowing by the lightness of her step that it was she. He had to prevent himself from smiling. So much for the cruel, inhuman monsters his brother spoke of. This Peregrine, at least, had a much softer side to her. Whatever he did, he must not frighten her away. He must seem helpless and keep her near him as long as possible, he decided.
He moved just a bit and gave a groan of pain.
Zared jumped at the sound, then gave a sigh of relief that he was still alive. Cautiously she moved forward, creeping nearer to him. With her knife at the ready she nudged him with her foot. He gave another little groan.
"A priest," he murmured. "Get me a priest."
Zared lost her caution at that. She had to save him. She went to her knees beside him, slit his tunic away, and examined his wound. She had hit his ribs, but she couldn't tell how deep her knife had gone. There wasn't much flesh over his ribs, just skin and muscle, but he seemed to have lost an extraordinary amount of blood.
She glanced at his face and saw that his eyes were closed and that he wore a pained expression. Were Howard men so weak that they died from such slight wounds? She'd seen her brothers hurt that way and continue fighting for a full day before the wound was dressed. Yet the man was calling for a priest because of a mere cut.
She cut away more of his tunic and sliced a long strip of his linen shirt away. She wadded a piece of his shirt against the wound, then tried to wrap the linen strip around his big body.
He was an inert weight, and lifting him was impossible. She could have as easily lifted a dead horse. She leaned across him and tugged. She put her arms about his neck and tried to lift him. She heaved against him with her shoulders, but he just lay there, oblivious even to her presence.
"Wake up!" she commanded.
He stirred but didn't open his eyes.
Zared gave him a few sharp smacks on his cheeks, and at last he opened his eyes. "I am trying to get this bandage about you. You must lift yourself up."
"You must help me," Tearle said in a hoarse whisper.
She gave him a look of disgust, then leaned over him and helped to pull him up. He was very weak and ended in clasping her to him, his body heavily against hers. Zared had difficulty reaching around him to pull the bandage about his ribs, and holding him up was straining her back, but she managed to dress the wound.
"Lie down now," she said. The man really did seem to be quite stupid. She had to tell him the simplest things. She eased him back to the ground, but he had to have Zared's help all the way, and she had to peel his arms from around her body when he was lying flat once again.
"You will be all right now," she said. "The wound is not deep. Stay here and rest. Your brother will come soon. He is never far from Peregrine lands." She started to rise, but he caught her hand.
"You would leave me? I will die here alone."
"You won't die," she said in disgust. Perhaps the Howard had been sent away as a child not because he was evil but because he was such a weakling that his family was embarrassed by him.
"Wine," he whispered. "There is a bottle of wine on my horse."
Zared gritted her teeth. Her brothers were no doubt frantically searching for her, yet she was playing nursemaid to a sniveling Howard. Reluctantly she went to the horse, removed the hard leather bottle, and handed it to him. But he was too weak to sit up without Zared's support; he couldn't even hold the bottle to his lips.
This is the enemy? Zared thought. This cowardly, weak, trembling, oversized child is something to fear?
She took the wine bottle from his lips. "I must go," she said. "I will leave the bottle here and—"
"Stay," he said, clasping her hand in his. "Please stay with me. I am frightened."
Zared rolled her eyes skyward. She was sitting on the ground, and he was leaning against her as though he could not support himself.
"I will die if you do not stay."
"You won't die," she snapped. "You ought to at least try to have some courage. The bleeding's stopped, and besides, I have to leave. My brothers will be searching for me, and it's best if they don't find me… here."
"Ah. You mean with a Howard. Do you know that I am a Howard?"
"We know much about the Howards. You are our enemy."
He sighed and leaned limply against her. "Surely I am not your enemy."
"If you are a Howard, you are indeed the enemy of all the Peregrines."
"Yet you returned for me."
"I came back to prevent a war. Had you died, your brother would have attacked my brothers." She tried to move out from under him, but he had her trapped by his weight.
"You returned only because of your brothers?"
"Why else?" she asked, genuinely confused.
He lifted her hand to his lips. "Perhaps you know all of us, but it seems we do not know all about the Peregrines. We did not know the youngest was a daughter and a lovely young woman." He kissed first one fingertip and then another. "Did you not perhaps return because of our kiss?"
It took a moment for the words to sink in, but then Zared began to laugh. Still laughing, she squirmed out from under him, stood, and looked down at him. "You think I care for a kiss? You think a kiss from a Howard could make me forget my four brothers your family has killed? You think me shallow enough to betray my family for anything a Howard could give me? I could slit your throat now, but your death would mean open war, and that I do not want."
Her laughter was changing to anger. "You Howards are less than nothing to me. Did I not show you what I thought of your kiss?" She nodded toward the bloody bandage on his side.
She stepped away from him and gave him a look of contempt. "I would feel a kiss that was from a man, but not from a spineless weakling such as you. Oliver Howard is no doubt greatly ashamed of his youngest brother—and well he should be."
She crossed to the horse and mounted. "I will free your horse at the edge of the forest, for I do not want my brothers to see me on a Howard animal. I will not tell them of your men's skulking treachery or of your touching me. My brothers have killed men for less."
She gave him one last look. "Even the Howards do not deserve such a half-man as you."
Tearle was on his feet by the time she'd turned the horse, but she was out of the glade before he could catch the bridle.
Rage gave color to his pale face. Half-man?! His brother should be ashamed of him? A spineless weakling?
He? He, Tearle Howard, a weakling? In France he had won tournaments since he was a boy. He beat all comers. Women threw themselves at him. Women begged him for his kisses, yet this… this boy-girl had said his kiss was not that of a man!
As though she knew one kiss from another. As though she were such a lady of sophistication that she knew anything about kisses—or anything else, for that matter. All she knew were swords and warfare and… and horses. She'd have to be a woman to know if a kiss came from a man or not. She'd have to—
Abruptly he stopped his silent tirade and began to chuckle. Perhaps he had appeared to be a little too helpless. But it had been nice having her lean across him in an attempt to lift him. When her chest had been against his he had felt a hard padding and guessed she must bind her breasts down in her attempt to appear a boy.
And what a futile attempt that was, he thought, for her every movement screamed that she was female. How anyone could believe her to be male was beyond his understanding.
A boy wouldn't have come back to see if his enemy was all right. Of course, Tearle wouldn't have kissed a boy and thus prompted the stabbing, but either way, a boy would not have returned.
He leaned against a tree and closed his eyes for a moment. What an intriguing girl she was, all passion and fury, yet softness underneath. She w
He moved away from the tree. He would probably never see her again, he thought.
He started walking. Maybe, he thought, he'd see his brother's men soon. If anyone knew what the Peregrine family planned, it was his brother. Oliver would no doubt be pleased when at last his young brother began to take an interest in the enemy family.
Zared stared out the small stone-cased window and watched the people on the grounds far below. Two days locked in the tower room with nothing but bread and water was her punishment for scaring her brothers half to death. Severn had yelled at her for a solid hour after she'd come limping back home. Rogan's anger had been worse, for he'd looked at her in such a way that she felt small enough to slide between the stones of the fireplace.
At least Severn's yelling had made lengthy excuses unnecessary. Zared had merely mumbled that she'd wanted to ride, Severn's stallion had thrown her, and she'd had to walk back. She much regretted the loss of Severn's horse, but only she knew how very much worse it could have been. All considered, two days locked away was a slight punishment. Her biggest fear was that her brothers wouldn't allow her to go to the tournament.
"If the Howards keep me from that pleasure," she muttered, "I will kill that whining, cowardly worth-nothing with my bare hands."
She jumped when she heard the door open behind her. Turning, she saw Liana enter with a cloth-covered basket. Zared repressed a smile, for Liana, underneath her efficient exterior, was as soft-hearted as a human could be. No doubt she feared that Zared would starve in two days without meat and wine.
"I have brought you something to eat," Liana said. "Not that you deserve it, for what you did endangered all of us."
"And I am most sorry," Zared said, reaching for the basket. "You are more than kind to bring me food when I do not deserve it." She moved to sit on the edge of the filthy bed.
"I couldn't let you starve," Liana said, taking a seat on the one chair in the room and looking about. "This place is not fit for humans."
Zared didn't think the room was so bad—a few fleas here and there, a few rats, but not unlivable. Speculatively she looked at Liana. She knew that Liana had power over whether or not she went to the tournament, for Rogan listened to his wife, and if Liana said Zared should not be allowed to go, then Rogan would forbid it.
"Do you not think it is time for me to have a husband?" Zared asked as she bit into a thick piece of pork.
Liana looked startled. "I have thought so, but I did not think you or your brothers gave much thought to the idea."
"I have been considering it lately," Zared said. "Perhaps I should have my own home, children. Perhaps I should get away from this." She waved her hand. "And the Howards."
"Oh, Zared, I could not agree more. Your life would change so much if you had your own family. Perhaps it would help your brothers get over their hatred of the Howards if they were allied with another family."
"Ah," Zared said. "Then you have someone in mind for me to marry?"
"No," Liana said slowly. "We are so isolated here that we see no one. But perhaps my stepmother would know of someone." She was quiet a moment.
"Perhaps Severn will meet someone at the tourney," Zared said, as though it didn't matter to her. "Or perhaps I could look the men over there."
Liana didn't say anything, and when Zared looked at her she was smiling.
"I see," Liana said. "Perhaps if you, say, went to the tournament as Severn's squire, you could find yourself a husband?"
Soft-hearted, true, Zared thought, but awfully clever. "Liana, please. Please allow me to go. I have never been anywhere in my life but here. I should like to meet some people who are not my relatives or hired by my family."
Liana's face showed her agony of indecision. "It's so dangerous for you. The Howards—"
"Bah!" Zared said, standing up. "The Howards! Those spineless cowards! They aren't worth considering."
"What do you know of the Howards to call them cowards? What happened when you rode away on Severn's horse? There was blood on your hose but no cut on your leg."
"Must have been the horse's from when it fell," Zared said quickly.
"I'm not sure I'm hearing all of the truth."
"What else could there be? Do you think I was captured by the Howards?" Zared gave a little laugh. "They captured me, but out of the goodness of their hearts they released me. Very amusing idea."
"I've seen you use a knife," Liana said softly. "Perhaps you could have escaped were you captured."
Zared walked across the room, grabbed a chunk of bread, and filled her mouth. "This is delicious bread. When I'm married I hope I can be half the housewife you are. That is, if I can find a husband, or, rather, if Severn can find one for me. I'm sure he will pick a good husband for me."
"All right, keep your secrets," Liana said. She'd lived with the Peregrines long enough to know that they revealed nothing about themselves unless they had to. She sighed in resignation. "Severn will no doubt choose a man who is best able to help fight the Howards, some man with years of war experience." She looked at Zared. "You need less war and more love."
"Love?" Zared said with a snort. "I have my brothers, I have God, I need no more love."
Liana looked up at her pretty young sister-in-law. She was sure Zared would someday love a man. if she knew nothing else about the Peregrines, she knew they were people of passion: They hated with passion, fought with passion, loved with passion. Zared seemed to think it didn't matter who she married, but were she bound to a man she couldn't respect, or worse, one she held in contempt, she would hate him until, if the man had any sense, he would fear for his life.
Liana also knew that all she had to do was tell Rogan that Zared should not go to the tournament and Zared would not be allowed to go, but something held Liana back. Zared would be safer at home, true, but what if Zared's passion should turn to hate: more hate for the Howards, who prevented her from leaving her home-prison, and possibly hate for Liana as well.
"You will stay near Severn?" Liana asked softly, wondering if she'd ever see Zared alive again.
"Yes, oh, yes," Zared said, her face filled with joy.
"How I wish I could go with you! I'd order some gowns for you, greens and blues. You could be quite pretty if your hair weren't always in a snarl. Oh, Zared, a tournament is so lovely. You give your favor to a man, and he—"
"I'd rather fight," Zared said. "I'd rather mount a horse, hold a lance, and knock a man off his horse. I would not like to sit and watch."
"No, I guess you wouldn't." Liana put her hands on her big belly. She was too soon due with her second child to be able to leave. Perhaps it was better if she didn't see her husband's young sister acting as a squire, mucking out stables, currying horses, running between combatants to deliver fresh lances.
Liana stood. "I do not feel it is the best thing to do, but perhaps you will be safe enough. Perhaps Severn is right and Oliver Howard will not dare attack while the king is there. I will tell Severn he has his squire." She started for the door.
"Liana," Zared said. "When you met Oliver Howard, what was he like? Is he a very great fighter?"
Liana smiled. "Not at all. He's much older than your brothers and gone to fat. But then he does not have to fight, for he's very rich and can hire as many men as he needs."
"And what of his brother?"
"Brother? I heard nothing of a brother. I'm afraid I don't know the Howards as well as your family does. Zared, what do you know of a brother?"
"Nothing. Nothing at all. It's just that…" She looked at Liana. "I have not seen much of the world and know only of my brothers. They are such fine men." She smiled proudly. "They are strong and handsome. No one could beat them on a battlefield. Are they such unusual men? Or are there many men like them?"
Liana took a while to answer
"And protect his family from enemies."
"Yes, that's important too, but…" She didn't know how to explain to this girl that there was another way of life besides what she'd known. All her life Zared had lived in a private war with another family. She'd been raised as a boy to protect her. She knew nothing of sitting in the sunshine with a handsome young man while he played a lute and sang to her. She'd never had a man kiss her hand and tell her how lovely the sunlight in her hair was. Zared had never giggled with the maids or flirted with a boy, or done any of the things other girls did. Zared knew swords and horses and could sing all the vulgar songs with the men. But she didn't know satin from brocade or ermine from sable. Worst of all, she knew no men except her brothers.
"You'll find no husband like your brothers," Liana said softly.
"Then I shall never marry," she said with all the confidence of youth. "I shall remain a virgin until my death."
That made Liana laugh and the baby kick. A Peregrine remain a virgin? That was a good one. She knew, much better than her brothers did, that when Zared discovered sexual feelings she was going to be impossible to restrain. If Severn did not keep close watch on her at the tournament and she met some splendid man who took her fancy…
Liana did not like to think of the possible consequences, for Zared's brothers would kill any man who touched their little sister. "I am sure I am making a mistake in allowing you to go."
"I will be good," Zared said. "I will obey Severn and stay near him, and I will get into no trouble. I swear it, Liana. You have my word as a Peregrine."
Liana smiled and sighed at the same time. "Peregrines were born to be in trouble. I'm sure both you and your brother will get into a dreadful mess. Swear to me that you will not allow Severn to kill anyone and you will not come home with child."