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  "Nay. They took the candles from my room soon after darkness fell."

  Catalin's hands paused. He studied her. Why had she stopped?

  "Hm. Lean forward and I'll knead your neck and shoulder muscles." As she scooted to the end of the tub, he saw the questioning look she flashed at Ranald.

  "There is more here than ye are tellin', Raik. Best spill it all." Ranald face was a quiet mask as he sat back on his haunches.

  Raik heaved a gusty sigh, relieving his tension. Ranald might help him make sense of it.

  "Women were allowed to visit my room throughout the day. The guard insisted the door stayed wide open. He stood where he could see within. He had no need at first, for I was hurting too much to pay heed to my tarse."

  "So when did the visits start?" Ranald's face looked as puzzled as he felt himself.

  "When my fevers broke. Late each day, old Maud brought my evening meal. At nightfall, she delivered wine, cheese and hot bread afore I settled to go to sleep. About four nights ago, I began having dreams of the most wondrous sort. Flashes of colors floated about the room so beautiful anyone would pay their last coin to have clothing made like them. They twisted and clung around a woman.

  "Never have I held such passion in my arms. Her body was perfect. I judged she was tall. Willowy." He stopped and frowned. "Not like Muriele. With more flesh on her body. Her arms were especially firm."

  He rolled his shoulders to remind Catalin to resume her pleasant massage on the base of his neck.

  "Did she talk to you? Could you not tell from her voice?"

  "Nay. Only a word now and again. Very low. Our bed sport was most lively and pillows and sheets ended on the floor. I awoke each morn to a perfectly made bed. Someone had straightened the covers."

  "Are ye sure ye didna dream the woman?" Ranald grinned down at him.

  "Nay. It was no dream. I said I awoke to a perfectly made bed. Except for my pillow. I clutched it in my arms, my face against it. It held the scent of lilies. The bed linens smelled of the sun's freshness."

  The soothing hands on his neck near clutched him. He sat up, splashing water out over the tub's rims and faced her.

  "Do ye have an idea who she was, Catalin?"

  "Nay. I but feared you had dreams of a woman who was not there. Mayhap 'twas a succubus..." She grabbed a small glob of soap and gently started to wash his hair.

  Raik laughed. "'Nay. 'Twas no female demon who swived me in my sleep."

  "Ha! Likely, they laced yer wine with white poppy to aid yer sleep. That would account for the vivid colors." Ranald nodded. "And the dreams of perfect bed sport."

  "Nay. I didn't imagine the scent on my pillow. And this past night, when Maud brought my nighttime wine and cheese, I inspected each little thing afore I ate it. I poured the wine in my basin. 'Twas then I knew they had put something in it. I emptied it into the piss pot and went to bed.

  "As usual, she came to me in the middle of the night. I pretended the sounds of a man sleeping deeply. Tossed about. Even snored a little. I waited until she slid between the sheets and wrapped herself around me. Then I tried to drag her to the window. There was just enough moonlight that I could see her face."

  "Who was she?" Catalin stopped all pretense of washing his hair and stretched around to stare at his face.

  "I dinna know. She screamed. Soon after, something crashed into the back of my head. The next I knew, I awoke fully dressed on the forest floor. Sword and all. Storm was tied to a nearby branch."

  "I canna believe Warin would treat ye so shabbily." Ranald's lips had thinned to a white line, his eyes heated with anger.

  "Not so shabbily," Raik felt he had to add. "A flask of water rested against my side. He left men to guard me, too."

  "How do ye know that?" Ranald's voice was harsh.

  "The dead louts. Two of them. With arrows in their chests that I didn't place there. After I awoke and started to make my way here, I heard horse's hooves leaving."

  "Well, now, I hope this will end these terrible games you and Warin play," Catalin scolded as she poured rinse water over Raik's head and shoulders. "Grown men are worse than children. Always looking for trouble."

  Broccin stood and stretched, then spied ale and cups waiting atop a table across the room. Going over to it, he filled three of the cups and waited.

  "Best ye get out of the water, lad. Ye dinna want yer ballocks shriveled to dried fruit."

  "Help him out, please," Catalin asked Ranald's squire. She eyed the neatly folded, colorful garments the squire had selected. "Ranald said you were to visit Muriele, Raik. How did you find her?"

  "She is well. Her hair grows. Sun turns it to spun gold." He felt a pang, for he had not thought of Muriele after he arrived at Seton.

  "Did she accept yer suit?" Ranald stared at him and quietly awaited his answer.

  "Your suit?" Catalin swung around quite gracefully for an increasing woman. "Oops!" She giggled and turned her back to him.

  Raik grabbed a drying cloth from the squire's hand, feeling his face flush. Were she to tell of it, a shriveled cock wouldn't heighten his reputation.

  "Ye distract the man, Catalin. What suit, Ranald?" Broccin asked.

  Raik sighed, knowing the laird wouldn't be satisfied until he answered.

  "I asked Muriele to wed with me. She denied me. That is all there was to it."

  Raik finished dressing with the squire's help. His headache had quieted to a softer throbbing, thanks be to whatever concoction Ranald had added to the wine. He felt better already. Hot water and Catalin's expert kneading of his stiff muscles had relaxed his sore body.

  All he needed now was the steaming food servants were carrying into the room. Soon the table was near groaning from the weight of platters and bowls.

  He spied the lamb shanks. 'Twas his favorite, for cook coated the lamb with honey mixed with crushed mint leaves and other spices. His mouth watered, reminding him he had not eaten since the cheese the night before. Smoked haddock, quail pies and roasted fowl rounded out the meats. Peas and beans, loaves of white bread, plum tarts and cheeses completed the meal.

  Jugs of ale kept cold in the well within the keep stood at each end.

  He sighed with pleasure when he speared a juicy shank and dropped it on his wooden plate. For a while, everyone was content to eat while the food still had its warmth. After they had satisfied their hunger, Catalin left to be with her son. The men sat back, stretching and belching, something they couldna do with Catalin there.

  "Laird, I thought yer face would split holding back yer wind with Catalin at the table." Raik grinned at Broccin.

  "Aye. 'Tis only while she is carryin'. Says it makes her ill."

  Ranald sprawled back against the wall, his legs outstretched.

  "Now we can talk freely, Raik. What are yer plans?"

  "Find the woman! Ye know I have never sired a bastard. Always, I have withdrawn afore I spent my seed."

  "Aye." Ranald studied Raik's face. Understanding flashed through him. He drew his legs in, sat upright and leaned his arms on his thighs. "Hm, until now, eh? Ye didna pull away?" His brows shot upward.

  "Not by choice. They must have added an aphrodisiac with the poppy. I was near bursting with lust. I tried to hold my seed. Her legs clamped me too tightly. I couldna free my cock until I spilled within her." He pressed his lips together, thinking on it.

  "She was strong, then?"

  "Oh, aye. Strong. Never have I swived a woman who met me thrust for thrust with equal passion."

  Surely, she was not wed. No man who had ever rested between her legs would allow another to know that same wonder. Anger sizzled in him that he had no idea who she was.

  "Somehow, I will find reason to return to Seton. And when I do..."

  CHAPTER 16

  Over the next fortnight, Letia tried to calm her mind by filling her days as she had before Raik of Scotland had been an unusual guest at Seton Castle. By the time night fell, mind and body were equally ready for rest.

  In
their sleeping chamber, Warin propped his sword against the side of the fireplace. "I watched the young slingers this day. Sybilla's girl has a good, strong aim." His eyes twinkled as he added a square of peat to the dying fire.

  "You saw?"

  "Aye."

  "She is angry because that handsome horse trainer will not allow her to help groom his horse. I scolded her for it."

  "He near jumped into my arms when her stone hit. He wanted to do more than scold her. He did not fancy that whelp on his arse."

  Letia bent her head as Maud helped pull her green woolen kirtle over it. She became tangled in the cream smock beneath, and while she fought it back down around her body, the floor seemed to tip. She steadied her feet. When her head slid free, she blinked and grasped the end bedpost. Bile surged to her mouth. Had she eaten too quickly this eve? Swallowing, she stood very still, willing the feeling to go.

  "What is it, lovey?" Maud's gaze studied her face.

  "Mayhap bending over with too much food in my belly has unsettled it?"

  "Pfft! Not likely. You did not eat as much as Sybilla's girl."

  Warin slipped his arm around her waist and eased her over to sit on the bed.

  "How can I help you, wife? Do you feel ill?"

  "Hmm." Maud tilted her head and studied Letia's face again. "Of late, have you had other times ye felt this way?"

  "Aye. After our noon meal when I tended Freki." She stopped and thought longer. "I thought 'twas the look of the slops all mixed together that did it. For the last sennight, though I grow hungry enough, I have not enjoyed my evening meals."

  Maud went across the room and broke off the end of a small loaf of bread. When she returned and handed it to Letia, her smile near reached her ears.

  "Eat. This will settle your stomach."

  Letia nibbled at the crusty end of the bread.

  "Is it?" Warin's brows rose, his eyes hopeful.

  "Nay. How could I be breeding? I have no trouble of a morn. Only when the sun seeks to hide."

  "Aye. You are. Your time of the moon has long passed. You have been so busy seeing to storing food for the winter months that you did not note it. Some women are as likely to be sick of a night as they are in the morn." Maud said.

  Warin murmured softly. His face brightened with hope as he cupped her face and kissed between her brows.

  "Beloved," he whispered, "I am deeply happy. This child is my heir, be it a boy or girl. I will send missives to kings Stephen and David at first light."

  Letia near banged her head against Warin's when shouts rang out from the great hall below.

  "Watch out! Don't let him reach the stairwell!"

  "Where did he come from?"

  Swords shrieked from their scabbards. Heavy booted footsteps made a clatter as men chased someone up the stone stairs, their sword hilts banged against the curved walls.

  Warin sprang to fetch his sword beside the fireplace.

  "Stay," he commanded as he whisked Letia behind him.

  His sword at the ready, his feet braced and a protective snarl on his lips, he watched the door.

  Something crashed against the sturdy oak, followed by loud, violent scratching. Letia knew no man's hand could make such a noise.

  Freki's arrogant bark was clearly an impatient, demanding summons. From the sounds of it, the men must be falling over their feet in their haste to get out of the beast's way.

  "Saints! 'Tis the hairy beast." Maud shoved between Warin and Letia, making an extra shield with her own frail body.

  "Let him in." Letia, her dizziness under control, started laughing. "I guess he has decided where he wants to spend his night."

  Warin's fist tightened on his sword's hilt. A wry smile covered his lips.

  "Stay back. Just in case he decides to bite the hand that feeds him."

  He lifted the door latch. When the door burst open, he jumped back. Freki, a startled look on his face, tottered on his back legs then came down on all four paws.

  Leofwan and Giles stood paces behind the dog, weapons at the ready, their eyes fixed on the animal.

  Freki ignored them. And Maud. His head turned back and forth, as he examined the room. His gaze stopped to study Warin from head to toe then sought Letia. His nose wrinkled and twitched as he sniffed the air. He nodded at their familiar scent. His tail wagged so forcefully his hips wriggled back and forth. His tongue lolled as he sauntered further into the room. At the far corner, he plopped down on his stomach and faced the door where men stood jostling each other, red-faced and sweating from the chase.

  The beast took a casual glance at the warriors then ignored them as if they were no longer there. He had put the humans in their place. With a huge yawn that showed his tongue and the roof of his mouth, he relaxed and licked his outstretched paws, sighed and closed his eyes.

  Tension left Warin's body. He looked down at Letia and shrugged.

  "With a guard such as him, we should sleep soundly." He cleared his throat and whispered, "He did eat a hearty meal this day, did he not?"

  Letia giggled for the first time in many months.

  o0o

  Warin awoke afore first light streaked the sky the next morn. Before he slipped out of the bed, he pressed his pillow and body-warmed covers against Letia's back. Slowly, so as not to awake her, he slid from the bed. Freki stirred, his head lifted high watching him. Warin put his finger to his lips gesturing for silence then squelched a chuckle.

  How foolish! Freki would not know what he meant. Surprisingly, the beast nodded, lowered his head and proceeded to sleep.

  He slipped a cloak around his shoulders and eased from the room. No matter what time he chose to rise, his squire Edulf and Leofwan were there in his solar afore him. It puzzled him that they knew when he would awaken.

  The young squire tended a wooden rack standing close to the fireplace where he warmed Warin's clothing.

  "Just in time, sire. It looks to be a cold day today." Edulf helped him to don his breeches quickly along with a blue wool tunic.

  "Ah," Warin sighed with pleasure when the heated fabric slid down his body. Once his squire had finished lacing his boots, he nodded.

  "Thank you. After you break your fast, you may bring Leofwan and I our own."

  The young man nodded and left the room. Warin beckoned his old friend to sit with him at the table. Leofwan was the only one who knew of his plans between kings David and Stephen, and he wanted to get his thoughts in order before he wrote his missives.

  His important papers were in a locked chest on the mantle. He brought it over to the table, talking as he did so.

  "What I have seen of Sir Raik shows him to be an honorable man." Taking a key, he opened the chest and removed several scrolls then sat and readied the parchments in front of him. "Though he has oft pricked my temper, never has he done harm to Seton. This border raiding seems bred into a Scot, do you not think?"

  Leofwan hunched his shoulders and straddled a chair. "Aye. He has made a game of it since the Treaty of Durham. The border is to the south of us now. For truth, they can no longer be deemed border raids."

  Warin nodded. "It has been five years and more that Northumbria has lived under King David's control. Though it does not protect us from Maud and Stephen's feuding and the local barons from trying to wrest more land.

  "David wants Anglo-Norman tenants. Still, treaties do not last forever. We must gain both kings' agreements.

  "Laird Douglas, where Raik fostered, was most open in telling me of Raik's mother Joneta. She is sister to Broccin of Raptor Castle. Though it was kept a secret, he hinted Stephen knew Raik's sire. Before I set my plans in motion, I needed to know who he is. As should Raik."

  Leofwan folded his left arm across the chair's back and scraped his chin against it, as if soothing an itch there. He looked down at the floor then back up at Warin before speaking.

  "So ye plan to ask, then?"

  "Already did."

  Warin laughed at the look of surprise on his old friend's face. He
delighted in teasing him a bit longer and withheld the man's name.

  "I watched Sir Raik closely while he, uh, visited with us," Leofwan paused. "He was always respectful in his speech with those who tended him. His bearing and grace are that of one well born. As for a warrior's skills, he is the Black Raptor's right hand."

  Warin quirked a brow at him. "Are you going to give a long list of his attributes and the reasons I should not worry after I cease to take breath? Or do you want to know who sired him?"

  "Pft! Ye will tell me in yer own time."

  Leofwan tilted forward, holding the chair's back as he would a saddle's pommel.

  "'Tis no other than Stephen's friend, Symon de Mortimer."

  Leofwan's head jerked up and the chair righted. His back straightened when the chair's four legs met the floor.

  "From old King Henry's court? Is he not the man who wed the d'Aunay's only child?"

  "Aye. Mere months afore Raik was born. Old de Mortimer pressed the issue. 'Twas too wealthy a match to allow his son to follow his heart."

  "What does King Stephen propose?"

  "He is sending for Raik. Baron de Mortimer has legitimate sons but wants to claim him as his natural son. A nice way of saying 'bastard' is it not?"

  "Aye. How does this help our cause?"

  "I must let the kings know that Seton is to have an heir and ensure my lady will be secure. If de Mortimer acknowledges his son, I pray the kings will have no objection to him as Baron of Seton and husband to her."

  "'Tis good news." Leofwan nodded his head, his expression solemn.

  Warin forced his lips to smile. "It is good news. We could not do better. Sir Raik and the might of the Black Raptor will protect Lady Letia and Seton from the likes of Julian and the greedy wolves roaming from castle to castle. I would not rest gently in my grave if I did not secure a protector for all here."

  He flinched when sadness flitted across Leofwan's face. He had not meant to trouble his old friend. Friend? They were more akin to brothers than that. 'Twas Leofwan who assured him when he feared what he had asked of Letia was more than she could stand. 'Twas he, too, who soothed other fears.